A/N: So, I found some time to finish a chapter today, which means I did end up updating again this weekend! Yay!
This is the last chapter about 3x10! Next chapter begins 3x11! I hope you guys enjoy it!
Happy reading!
"If you're lonely,
And need a friend,
And troubles seem like,
They never end,
Just remember,
To keep the faith."
-"Anytime You Need a Friend" by Mariah Carey
The Molly's II opening was a disaster. Herrmann seemed to think it confirmed his theory that either he or Molly's was cursed. Sylvie felt bad for Cruz and Mouch and Newhouse. They'd put a lot of their own money into it and now it might all be a waste.
She helped clean up the mess and then afterward decided to enjoy the festival. Casey got a handful of the unsold "Santa Bites" and brought them along with them as they walked through all the other booths.
"These are really damn good," he says as he finishes his second one.
"Thank you," Sylvie replies, laughing at his enthusiasm.
"Why aren't you on the kitchen duty schedule at the house?" He asks.
"Because...because Harrison expected me to have his dinner on the table every night precisely when he got home and it made cooking feel like a burden. I like cooking, but I only want to do it when I say," she admits honestly. Casey essentially knows everything there is to know about her and Harrison. No reason to hold back now. "I never want to be at anyone's beck and call ever again."
He nods slowly, as if thinking deeply about her words. "I can understand that. If you ever want to cook for a crowd, you can cook for Severide, Shay, and I anytime you want. No expectations, no pressure."
A soft smile forms on her face as she answers him. She really is touched by the offer. He's leaving it up to her with an open ended offer. Cooking for three of her newest (and rapidly becoming closest) friends sounds much more appealing than cooking for the firehouse or just herself alone in her apartment. Cooking is more fun when it can be shared - for her anyway.
"I would like that," she replies. "I would like that a lot. We'll have to pick a night when Shay gets back to town."
"We will," he promises. "How's that going, by the way? You and Mills on 61 together?"
"Surprisingly well," she answers. "I keep expecting some sort of awkwardness or blow up, but...we're actually getting along great in close quarters." Her excitement overflows from her voice into her body language. She feels the pep in her step and wonders how obvious it is to an outsider. "I think that bodes well for date number three. Whenever we manage to make that happen."
She notices Matt glance at her in his peripherals and give her half of a grin.
"What?" She asks when he keeps his thoughts to himself.
"Nothing," he says with a shake of his head. "It's just nice to see you so happy, is all. You deserve a nice guy like Mills."
She blushes at his compliment and nods her head. "Thank you, Casey. I appreciate that."
He shrugs as they keep walking. "I just call it like I see it, that's all."
Comfortable silence envelopes them as they blindly follow the crowds. They're going nowhere in particular. They're simply trying to enjoy a day away from the Firehouse.
Sylvie gasps as a stretch of Christmas decor booths comes into view. Her eyes light up and she immediately grabs Matt's arm to drag him along behind her.
"I love handmade ornaments!" She exclaims. "Come on!"
The rest of the day goes much the same way. They explore the festivities and usually Sylvie yanks Matt along. He doesn't seem to mind if his amused smirk and dry chuckle are any indication. It's a pretty great day if she does say so herself.
It's one of the very best she's had in recent years in spite of the Molly's II fiasco, and a part of her can't help but think Matt Casey plays just as much a role in that as the festival. He's become a wonderful friend and confidant, and given her recent fresh start she appreciates that more than he likely knows.
When Matt shows up for shift the next day he passes Sylvie as she's climbing in the back of the ambo. He stops and watches in amusement as she drops a stack of trashy magazines on the gurney and glances around the app floor nervously.
She jumps when she spots Matt. "Jesus, why do people keep surprising me?"
He laughs and shakes his head. "Maybe you need to pay better attention to your surroundings. What are you doing?"
"Cruz is still being weird. He tried to give me some sort of lecture about Pete. I don't know. I'm giving him space by hiding out in the rig," she says with a tired sigh. "Are you headed in?"
He nods and adjusts the shoulder strap on his bag.
"If you see Pete will you let him know where I am? I don't want him wondering about me if a call comes in," she requests.
"Yeah, of course." He smirks and nods toward her magazines. "Enjoy your celebrity gossip."
"Oh, believe me, I will," she replies with a bright smile. "I've got enough trashy tabloids here to keep me occupied for the rest of shift, if I need it."
He shakes his head again and chuckles at her. "You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculous but also adorable," she amends with a finger pointed in his direction. "You know that's true."
Unfortunately, he does.
"No comment," he replies with a teasing eye roll. "I'll let your boyfriend know where to find you."
"He's not my boyfriend yet!" She yells frantically. "Don't jinx me! Go knock on wood or throw salt over your shoulder or—or something!"
"Uh, no. I'm not doing any of that. That's absurd."
"Fine. If Pete breaks up with me today then I'm blaming you."
He sighs in exasperation and makes a dramatic show of crossing the room to the Squad Table and knocking loudly.
"There. You happy?" He calls across the floor to her.
"Extremely! Thank you!" She answers before yanking the back ambo doors shut and sequestering herself.
He grins in amusement for his entire walk to the bunkroom. Sylvie Brett is something else. He passes Mills as he walks toward the locker room. Mills has a small wrapped package in his hands. Matt stops him briefly to let him know where to find Sylvie.
"Thanks, Lieutenant," he says as he hurries out of the room.
"Still not your lieutenant, Mills," Matt calls after his retreating back.
He changes, stows his stuff in his locker, and retreats to his quarters. He's not there ten minutes before Severide knocks on his door.
"Are Brett and Mills a thing?" He asks.
"That's a question for Brett or Mills," Matt answers.
"Because I thought she and Cruz were—"
"Definitely not. He asked. She said no. It's awkward. Probably don't bring it up around any of the involved parties," Casey warns him.
"Got it. Thanks for the heads up," Severide replies with a nod. "So, are you...are you good? About Mills and Brett, I mean? Cause last time you thought she was seeing someone you were kinda…"
"I was kinda what?" Casey challenged.
"Jealous. You were kinda jealous."
"That was a one time knee jerk reaction," he states with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm over it. Mills is a great guy, and Sylvie's a good friend. If he makes her happy then good for her. She deserves it. Especially after that Harrison asshole." He pauses and shuffles his papers before thinking about his and Brett's conversation the other day. Even now, it rankles him. "Did you know he expected her to have dinner on the table when he got home every night? And I got the impression he was a whiny little shit if she didn't deliver."
"That figures. We all know he was a fucking dick to her," Severide mutters angrily with an eyeroll. A crooked grin forms on his face and he chuckles. "Mills'll be good for her then. Sounds like someone should cook for her for once."
The bells went off with a call for Ambo and he and Severide traded knowing looks. Ambo getting a call before the morning briefing did not bode well for the rest of the day.
"Why do I get the feeling that it's gonna be a long day?" Severide asks him dryly.
Casey has no doubt that he's right. He mentally prepares himself for a hellish day. Better to be prepared than surprised.
Amazingly, their calls were light. It's the opposite of the foreboding feeling Casey had this morning. Squad is sent to check the building they were called to last shift. The City Building Department wants to condemn it but they want an opinion on it first. Cruz and Mouch busy themselves by trying to figure out what to do about Molly's II while Herrmann goes around trying to raise money at the Chaplain's request.
Around two hours later, Squad returns. Kelly tells him he found evidence of Arson and had to call in OFI and CPD. They led both directly to the husband. After that Herrmann and Cruz approach him with the idea of donating Molly's II to the Good Shepherd Soup Kitchen and given the lack of funds they raised Matt thought it was a fantastic idea. Truck 81 takes a ride to deliver their donation. It feels like a good gesture that is tailor made for the holidays.
As the truck pulls into 51, Matt can't wait to tell Sylvie. She'll love this story and it might even help her find a way to break the ice with Cruz. His disappointment is obvious when he turns from his truck to find Ambo 61 still hasn't returned from their run that morning.
It isn't too abnormal for a call to take a while. Maybe they had to get gas or stock up on supplies. Or it's entirely possible they went from one call directly to another. Maybe he missed out on some radio chatter somewhere.
"Anyone heard from Mills and Brett?" He asks his guys.
A chorus of 'no's went around his Truck crew. Stella even checked her phone on the off chance she'd gotten a text. He did the same. Neither of them have heard from Brett. He heads inside to check with Kelly and Squad. Maybe they came back and then had to turn around and leave again. But no, he'd gotten a negative on that thought too.
He's about to call Main to ask them to track 61 when Boden suddenly shouts for help from the bullpen.
They all come running. Donna's going into labor. The paramedics and their Ambo are out, but Stella has EMT training. They carry Donna to the Squad truck and Stella hops in with them. They take off for the hospital immediately, leaving Casey in charge of the house while Boden is gone. He tries to keep up with the action over the radio and through texts from different members of Squad.
By the time he gets an update that Baby Boden was delivered en route, it's been nearly five hours since Ambo left for their call. There's been nothing over the radio from them since. Even in extraordinary circumstances that's far too long.
The worry he'd been trying to hold at bay for the last hour or so is growing too large to hold back. He's tried to distract himself but his brain keeps circling back. The quiet just feels wrong. He sets aside his fresh cup of coffee and calls The Alarm Office. As he gets the latest information from them, he can feel his guys crowding around him. They're worried too. He's not alone.
The minute he's told they're supposedly still on scene at 815 South Nebraska his gut sinks. There's no way they've been on scene for five hours. The Alarm Office's computers have been down for most of the day and they haven't been able to check on 61's status. Well, if they aren't able to then he will.
"Truck 81, load up," Matt says as he pockets his phone and leads them all to the apparatus floor. "We're going for a ride."
"They've been gone a long time, Lieutenant," Cruz says worriedly as they jog toward their truck.
"I know," Matt says gruffly. He doesn't need the reminder. Anxiety is already eating at him as it is. He should have called to check on them sooner. How had he let himself get so distracted?
They arrive on the scene within a few minutes to find 61, with its lights on and doors open, but no Brett or Mills. There's even a patient on a gurney, passed out, and looking as if they were about to load him into the rig. He sends out a call over the radio first for Mills and then for Brett. He tries not to sound frantic as he asks for them a second time, but he knows he fails.
"Shit," he curses when he's met with silence yet again. He turns to Mouch with a heated glare. "Call Trudy, see if she can get Intelligence out here as soon as possible."
Cruz and Otis give him a look of alarm.
"You don't think…" Otis starts to ask. He seems to be in disbelief that he's having to ask because he has to try a second time. "You don't think they've been taken do you?"
"Neither one of them would leave the rig or a patient unattended," Herrmann says confidently as he watches Mouch call Trudy out of the corner of his eye. "What other explanation is there?"
"It's gotta be Lullo," Cruz sneers. "I knew Mills was gonna get her into trouble. She should have listened to me."
"Hey," Matt says loudly, turning his glare on Cruz. "Now is not the time. Cruz, check the patient. Herrmann, Otis, take a walk to the end of the alley. Make sure they're not just out of sight."
They all nod and do as they're told while Matt tries to listen in on Mouch's conversation. The minute he hears Mouch confirm that CPD and a member of Intelligence is on their way he marches back toward the Truck. Once he's out of sight of his crew he throws his halligan against the ground as hard as he possibly can.
If Cruz is right and it is Lullo, there's no goddamn telling what's happened to them. Fuck, 51 cannot suffer another loss like this. He can't suffer another loss like this. Not after Darden, Hallie, and Gabby. He'd just started to accept that maybe Brett was someone who might stick around for a while. He will not let that morning be the last time he'll ever see Mills or Brett alive.
"You okay, Lieutenant?" Mouch asks worriedly from behind him.
Casey turns, jerks his halligan up from the ground, and grits his teeth. "I'm fine. Nobody touches anything, and we need to keep everyone except for CPD out of the alley. That's an order."
"We're already on it," he assures him. "Trudy said Halstead is on his way."
He better be. They're gonna need all the help they can get from people they trust. He pulls out his phone and dials Mills. No answer. Next he tries Brett. He presses her contact on his screen so hard that he's afraid he might crack the glass.
"Come on, Sylvie," he mutters desperately. "Pick up the phone."
Voicemail.
"Fuck," he exclaims.
His first instinct that morning was right. It was going to be a hell of a day, but no amount of mental preparation could have saved him. He never once considered losing both his paramedics to be a possibility.
He should have known better. Somehow, someway, he should have seen this coming.