Chapter 34: Fireman
Clarke watched as Cally got ready for bed, flitting between the bedroom and the bathroom, asking him countless times if he needed anything. He was beginning to understand why she got so annoyed with him, except he wasn't wheelchair bound and hadn't been shot. "Cal, it is just my shoulder, I'll live. If I need anything I can get up and get it."
She paused, toying with the button on her pajamas, hating wearing the thick flannel ones, but fall seemed to have been short-lived, the nights turning bitter and cold, the old condo turning practically frosty after midnight. "Unless it required two hands," she quipped, knowing he was gently calling her on her mother hen act. "I know, it's just you took such good care of me, Jeff, I just want to return the favor."
"There isn't tit for tat with us, Cally, I love you, we aren't keeping score," he remarked, propping his good arm behind his head. "Now how many times do I gotta explain heat transfer to you, that you would be warmer if we sleep naked?"
"Nice try, Clarke, but we aren't trying to survive in the wilderness. Besides, I got some case files to read, figured I would go do that in the freezer of a living room and let you rest. You've got class in the morning."
"Bring your files to bed, I can sleep through anything, remember? But I was kind of hoping you would tell me what had you, Erin and Leslie squealing about by the bar." He kept his tone light and playful, but he was secretly excited about what plans had been made for his wedding.
Cailin flopped on the bed next to him scrunching her face and saying, "6pm wedding at Holy Family, reception at Molly's, you're a guy, what more do you need to know?" She smirked, "oh wait, I forgot you and Shay were planning the royal wedding why I was undercover."
"Be nice, beautiful," Clarke cautioned, scooting over for a kiss. "I know you had your reservations and I was trying to take some of the stress away. I didn't know Leslie was going to go overboard, okay?" he said, leaning against her.
Cally moved back, wrinkling her nose, "fine. I guess I could have been more into planning in the beginning, but you've been working and going to school, so I didn't want to burden you."
"Really, babe?" he said, shaking his head, "it is our wedding, our relationship, shouldn't we be the ones calling the shots?"
"Yes, and we are! I looked at all the stuff you and Shay had talked about and tried to flush out what was actually reasonable and us and affordable and came up with some things."
"Such as?" he prodded, trying to not be worried she still seemed to be holding so much close to the vest.
"Erin got us the hook up on dresses, the guys can wear their dress uniforms, we don't need to decorate the church because it is decorated for Christmas, Hermann put the ixnay on anything beyond tablecloths and flower arrangements at Molly's, Nadia has a friend that is a DJ, Katie Severide is doing the catering, Jay has a CI that owns a printing business, Mouse and I came up an invitation, Adam has a buddy from the academy that is now a photographer over at CSPU, Alvin and Hank are in charge of the cake," she paused, "fine, that one sorts of scares me, but whatever."
"More than a crime scene photographer taking our photos?" Clarke replied with a smirk.
She moved back closer to him, snuggling up to his good side, "it'll be fine, everyone will take pictures on their phone as it is. Cullen said he is going to take care of music at the church, though he did say we have to fill out the stupid FOCUS test, the diocese wouldn't let us skate on that."
He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight, giving her a look and saying, "why I am I not surprised there is a test? Good thing I am a good test-taker."
"That you are, Doctor Lieutenant," she replied, tipping her head up for a kiss.
Clarke gave her a knowing look, returning the kiss and saying, "though I might need to study up."
"You never did tell me how the talk went between you and Casey," Clarke said, deep in a bowl of oatmeal early the next morning, chasing his spoon around the bowl, trying to not be frustrated.
Cally rolled her eyes, taking a big drink of coffee before answering. "Considering how you rushed us out of the hospital, I am guessing he hightailed it back to Gabby's room after his showdown with the vending machine. So you tell me, cowboy, how do you think it went?"
"That bad?" Clarke asked, feeling bad for her, knowing how strong their friendship had been while they were growing up, not to mention knowing their connection was formed because she had reconnected with Casey after returning to Chicago. If it hadn't been for the other man, she would never have dropped off food that night at the firehouse.
Cally shrugged, "he's still pissed, about a lot. I don't blame him, he's had so much loss in his life…"
"So have you, Cailin!" Clarke countered.
"Not in the same way. Despite everything, I've always had an emotional safety net; I've always known people would be there for me. My family might be loud and big and crazy, but they are always there." Her shoulders slumped, "and I always counted Matt as part of that, but I guess maybe he didn't. I didn't realize I hurt him so much, Jeff. But we were eighteen, stupid kids and by the time Andy died, so much time has passed, I hadn't talked to him in years, other than a Christmas card or email here and there…it seemed like another lifetime ago, but I guess it wasn't, isn't, not to Matt at least."
Clarke reached across the table, squeezing her hand in his, "he'll get over it, Cally, and he just needs time. He was just scared for Gabby. I know what it feels like, to get that call…not knowing, you play all these scenarios out, trying to hope for the best, but preparing yourself for the worst."
She drew her hand back, "you think I don't know that, you think I wasn't thinking all those same things on that car ride over? That I didn't want to drop kick Sylvie across the waiting room until she finally got out that you were okay? I get that he was scared, but there is no excuse for him blaming you or digging up past transgressions. I spent plenty of time wandering around New York lost and broken; figuring I had done something wrong, that I was to blame for what went down, not just then, but for every bad thing that had happened to everybody I have ever loved. But I snapped out of it, enough to make it back here, to find you, to realize the sometimes bad shit just happens," she stopped, taking a breath and giving him a long, hard look, "that when you run out of sand, that is just it. Blame, anger, that isn't going to change anything. I hope he gets over it, Matthew Casey will always be family to me, but I am not going to just sit back and take it."
"I am not asking you to, Cailin, nobody is, you told him the truth and I meant what I said, after that it is on him. But I do think he will get over it, in time."
"Yeah, well, I hope you are right, but I don't think he is going to be my brides-man like Gabby suggested. Which means I am stealing Shay," she said, with a slightly sad smile, it growing more to a smirk as Clarke look wounded.
"How come you get Leslie, she's my fishing buddy!"
"Maybe we can work out visitation, cowboy, now would you hurry up and finishing chasing down that oatmeal so I can get you to class before Voight puts me in the back with Mouse on A/V duty?"
Cailin forced herself to put her head in the game, to not dwell on Matt's outburst, to not hen peck Jeff, despite wanting to call in favors with her brothers, to not let Voight have it when he informed them they were being reduced to security guards.
Until things went sideways and they found themselves ducking gun fire, in what turned into a full on bloodbath, a US attorney finally showing up to inform them that the truck had been carrying evidence in addition to cash. She barely had a chance to crash out next to Clarke for a couple of hours over the next few days, the stack of instructions from the doctor and PT the only clue to how his week had gone before she was back at again, chasing down some jerk wad named Oscar that Olinksy had a history with, which ended up with them in another shoot out, this time Halstead having to drop Oscar's brother. By the time the paperwork was wrapped up, or at least enough to punt it over to IA with two officer involved takedowns, it was late and Clarke had sent her another 'heading to bed' text.
She let out a big sigh, vowing to get home before he hit the hay the next night. "I gotta start getting out of here before Jeff forward's my mail!"
"Agreed," Erin said sorting through the stack of messages Nadia had given her before heading out. "Good thing your fireman has the patience of a saint."
"If I don't show my face when he is awake soon, it may wear out," she replied, leaning against her friend's desk, catching sight of a name written over and over again on the pink slips. "CI begging for a bone?" she asked, studying her friend carefully. Erin had been brushing the caller, and Nadia off for the past couple days; it was uncharacteristic, the detective usually quick to cut the cord on any needy CIs.
Erin's eyes grew stormy, her jaw set.
"Something like that." She cocked her head slightly, realizing for once she did actually have a female confident in her life. One that wasn't rushing home to kiss her kids goodnight, something that had always put a wall up between her and Jules. "Wanna catch a drink? Though I gotta stop by someplace first."
"Sure," Cally agreed, even though she really just wanted to curl up next to Clarke and see if she could catch up with him; there was something in her friend's expression that made her agree.
"We're stopping at a bar on the way to get a drink, really Erin?" Cally remarked as her friend pulled up to the curb.
"Just stay in here and don't let them ticket us, would ya, Callahan?"
She threw her badge up on the dash, watching as her friend strode into the mostly empty dive bar and had a terse conversation with the bartender. "Everything go okay in there?" she asked as Erin got back into the car, slamming the door. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Now how about that drink, Jay's up at this new place, think he is trying to sleep with the bartender."
Cally stiffened when she first heard Erin mentioning Jay, until she added the bit at the end about the bartender. "Good for him, maybe it will keep him from drooling over you."
"He does not drool," Erin protested, but a flush rose to her cheeks.
"Sure he doesn't. I'll bet you twenty bucks he forgets all about the bartender the second you walk in."
"You're on," Erin said, shaking her head, trying to shake off Jay's crush on her as much as she was trying to shake off the conversation she had just had with her mother.
They entered, and much to Cally's surprise, Jay barely gave them a head nod as he watched the bartender bending over to get something out of a low cooler.
Erin shook her head and laughed her trademark throaty laugh. "Oh, she is cute, Jay. Now what are we drinking, Callahan is buying."
"Beer, a pitcher, it was only a twenty, Erin," she said, giving her friend a look, before looking back at Jay who was looking at them confused.
"Whatever, beer it is, Maddie, get us a pitcher, will you?"
"Coming right up, doll face," Maddie said with a wink, looking curiously, if not territorially at the two women flanking Jay.
Erin and Cally waited until the woman turned away again before giving each other a knowing look. "So you sleep with her yet?" Erin asked, not beating around the bush.
Jay shook his head, "not answering that. Hey, did you two hear there is a target on my back for real this time?"
Both women froze, looking at him as if he had grown a second head. "Way to change the subject. Are you saying there is a hit out on you?" Erin hissed quietly, "who, when?"
"Why are you out in public, Halstead?" Cally snapped, looking around at the other people in the bar.
Jay shrugged, "Oscar, after I dropped his brother. He sent a message through Alvin. And I am out in public because by the time I got home, they had already redecorated my place; so why not be out in public, they already know where I live. Where else am I going to go? Don't suppose I can crash with you, Erin?"
"You're paying for half that beer, Dimples," Cally snorted, taking in Erin's fluster.
"Why don't you crash with Maddie?" Erin said, after glaring at her friend.
"Or, I don't know, at the precinct, while we figure out who is trying to kill you! Why aren't we back at work?" Cally said, slipping her coat back on.
Jay tugged on her sleeve, "chill out, Callahan, Voight and Olinksy said they had it covered. Take a load off, drink some of the beer you bought-"
His next words were cut off by the gunfire that quickly erupted nanoseconds after the bell on the door jingled announcing new patrons.
"Could we have one day where we don't get shot at?" Cally growled, as she pulled out her gun from her tote bag.
"Would be nice," Erin replied, barely rolling out of the way as glass exploded around her.
In seconds it was over, the pair retreating into the night, Cally chasing after to them, trying to get the license number of the car they jumped into, swearing at the blank space where the plate should have been. She let out a stream of curse words as she stormed back into the bar, looking around to survey the damage, realizing Jay and Erin were both over the body of Maddie the bartender, trying to stop the blood flowing out of her neck. A few more choice words escaped her lips as she pulled out her phone, calling for a bus and the crime scene unit. Had it really only been less than a week since she was lying in bed with Jeff going over the details of their wedding?
Chapter 35: One Wing in the Fire
Brett and Chout arrived quickly, Sylvie quickly jumping into action while still getting the shaken Halstead out of the way. Erin and Cally exchanged a look, it didn't look good.
Voight arrived a short time later, loaded for bear and bitching about Halstead refusing protective custody and not informing him his place had been ransacked. By the time they dealt with Voight and rallied back to the district, Cally was already dealing with a stream of worried texts from Clarke, having been informed by his paramedics about her presence on the scene.
"Why couldn't we have just stayed at that first dive, Erin, the one not in his district?" She grumbled, trying to reassure Clarke she was fine. Apparently he was still shaken from the whole Gabby incident.
"Because if I would have spent another second around my mother, there would have still been gunfire," she retorted under her breath.
Cally felt herself start. "Wait, that was your mother?" she quietly hissed.
Erin gave her a 'we will talk about it later' look.
Later didn't happen until after they tracked down the scumbags that had been gunning for Jay and nearly killed Maddie, when both women were too keyed up to head home.
The pair found themselves once again at Valentina's shop, this time the designer handing them tequila while sneering at their bag of fast food. "Look ladies, 'Tina does not have time to be letting out dresses, so you two better be working off that food later, you hear?"
"10-4" they both agreed, both normally tough women a little concerned over angering the statuesque woman. Erin finally fessed up about her mother's upcoming marriage and attempts at a reunion, getting a "she is not getting one of my creations, sugar plum," from Valentina, as she angrily stabbed at a wary Cally whom she was draping in champagne silk and lace.
"Watch it there, both of you," Cally warned. "I need to not be bleeding when I try to convince Jeff I am fine and you need to not be sucked into that emotional black hole that birthed you, Erin."
"Oh, I have no plans to. That ship has long since sailed, I learned my lesson a long time ago."
Cally studied her carefully before softly replying, "I really hope that's the case, Erin."
By the time Cailin actually made it home, Clarke was asleep on the sofa, though judging by the textbook still clutched in his 'good hand', she surmised he had been attempting to wait up for her. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. Was it out of wanting to catch up or wanting to ream her for not calling him back after the bar got shot up? She got her answer as soon as she shut the door behind her and he bolted awake.
"What the hell, Cally?" Clarke said, his voice husky with sleep, which Cailin almost found sexy enough to forget his angry question. Almost.
"What the hell, what the hell? I was working a case, connected to another case where they tried to take out one of my teammates. Cop, Intelligence Unit, nontraditional hours, any of this ringing a bell, Jeff?" she said, not wanting a fight, but the ire in his eyes quickly bringing one about.
He sat, slamming the book on the coffee table. "I know all of that, Cal, we've been down that road. The what the hell is about me having to hear about you getting shot at from my candidate calling me after my paramedic came back from a DOA scene!" Cally stood, barely inside the doorway, not putting her tote down, not taking her coat off, arms crossed over her chest, boot tapping slightly. Ready to walk right back out that door at any second, he could tell.
"Though I am not sure they are my damn anythings anymore, because I am stuck down at HQ reviewing files and my damn shoulder is most likely going to get me put to pasture!" he added.
"Put to pasture, you are in an accelerated med school program! But if you want to complain about being stuck at HQ, be my guest," she shot back.
"No, I don't want to talk about HQ because that isn't the point. You are going to be my wife, Cailin and you are in the middle of a gun fight in the middle of a bar where someone almost ends up dead and you can't even return a phone call?"
"You aren't my mother, Jeff!" she snapped, instantly regretting it. Exhaustion, the adrenaline let down, stress over their wedding rapidly approaching despite work ramping up, her worry at his injury, her sadness about Matt, all of it bubbled up and over. "I'm sorry," she immediately apologized, dropping her bag, her coat on top of it and making her way over to the couch, trying to not cringe as he moved away, jaw working.
She sat next to him, dropping her head to her hands, rubbing her palms over her face before speaking. "I should have called, there isn't an excuse except I didn't want to interrupt your sleep. But it you want me to call you every single time I am caught in a gunfight, I am going to be interrupting a lot of your sleep and studying. We don't go after lightweights, Jeff, I thought you understood that. I thought were okay with it."
Something desperate in her tone, pleading in her eyes broke through his anger, not to mention he knew he was more spooked from what happened with Dawson as well as hating feeling like an invalid as well as a coward for not just calling Casey up and telling him what happened.
"I know some of it, as much as you can tell me or what I've heard around. I just, with everything that has been going on and the fact that we are supposed to be getting married in six weeks, it just…I was worried about you, Cally, I love you, I want to know you are coming home to me, just like I want to make sure I come home to you."
Her eyes narrowed, zeroing in on something. "What do you mean supposed to be getting married? Are you saying you don't want to get married because I didn't call, because I haven't really seen you this week?"
He shook his head, knowing there was a high probability anything he said would turn into a fight, both of them at wits end. "No, babe, I want nothing more than to get married, just wanted to make sure it was actually happening, and preferably not in the ICU because you had been shot...again" He looked at her, wishing he could vanquish all the doubt that he could tell was creeping through her mind, alongside whatever other storms were churning. "Look, I am just glad you are home, safe, now can we please just go to bed?"
Cally nodded, thinking all she had been craving for the past week was to share the same bed as him for the entire night. "Good, because I did take a pain pill before I conked out," he said with raised eyebrows and a smirk.
"Wait what do you mean Gabby called you about the shootout, she is back at work?" Cally asked the next morning as they lay tangled in sheets together before Jeff had to go to class.
Clarke closed his eyes again, shaking his head. "Really, Cal, that's the first thing you ask this morning? And yes, this was her second shift back."
Cailin could hear the bitterness she knew he was trying to hide in his tone. "How's PT going?"
"Good, grueling, but the tear shouldn't require surgery, which is what I wanted," he said, sitting up, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder that he had overworked the past couple of days worrying about his fiancée.
"I'm getting you an ice pack and then I'm snuggling back in with those PT instructions, cowboy, make sure you aren't overdoing it," she said, seeing the flare of his nostrils as he moved.
She came back, handing him the back, a sheaf of papers in her hand, climbing back in to bed, giving her phone a look as though willing it to not ring before he had to leave.
"I probably am overdoing it, but I don't want to meet you at the altar in a sling," he admitted as she carefully read the papers.
Cally smiled, pausing to figure out how to gently pull him into a hug, fully appreciating how gentle he had been with her after she had been shot. "Jeff, I'll marry you however I can get you!" she said grinning at him, imagining what it would be like meeting him at said altar.