A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in uploading. This chapter was difficult to write. Y'all stay safe, and an extra huge thank you to any of you reading who have jobs that you can't take off or work from home. Seriously. Y'all rock my world.
Shift got off to a crazy start for Brett and Foster. They'd had back to back calls to start their shift and barely had time to finish gassing up the ambo before getting called off to a man in distress.
A woman waved them over when they pulled up. "The couple who lives above me has been fighting a lot lately." She gestured at the fourth story of the apartment building. "But I heard a lot of yelling, then a loud crash and the man screamed. It just didn't feel right, so I called you guys." She let them into the building.
The paramedics thanked her, running upstairs. They could hear her muffled voice echoing down the halls.
Sylvie rapped on the door when they got to the apartment. "Fire Department," she called.
There wasn't an answer, but they could hear the woman fuming inside.
Sylvie and Emily shared a look. Was this enough for them to go in?
"Foster," Sylvie asked, "do you smell that?"
She sniffed. "Gas."
"Good enough for me," Sylvie stated, trying the door. Finding it locked, she kicked it in.
The paramedics entered, scanning the apartment. A man groaned, and they quickly made their way to the back bedroom where it had come from, glancing over their shoulders toward the room where they could still hear the woman slamming through drawers, cussing up a storm about how he cheated on her.
In the bedroom, the smell of gas was overwhelming, and much of the floor was wet. The man was laying on the ground, surrounded by smashed glass and various other items that appeared to have been thrown around. A large gash stretched across his face.
"Foster, we've gotta get him out of here. Give me the bag, then go get the stairchair before the woman comes back." Sylvie kicked some of the glass out of the way and kneeled carefully beside the man. "Sir, can you hear me?"
Foster handed the bag to her partner and turned back to the ambo.
The man went to nod, but Sylvie stopped him. "Try not to move. Can you talk?"
"Yeah," the man rasped.
"What's your name?" Sylvie asked.
"Nick."
"Nick, you have a nasty cut on your head. I'm going to put some pressure on it, okay?"
Nick grunted his assent as she unwrapped some gauze and put them over his head laceration.
She didn't notice the slamming around stop, nor did she notice the cussing go quiet as footsteps approached the bedroom.
"Who the fuck is this bitch?" a voice yelled behind her, and she jumped.
"Ma'am, I'm -"
"You just think you can do whatever you want because you're a selfish good-for-nothing!" The woman gave no attention to Sylvie, continuing on her tirade against Nick, "Well, I'll tell you what you can do - you can burn in Hell!" She struck a match that Sylvie hadn't realized she was holding and it hit the ground before Sylvie could stop it.
Foster was halfway up the second of three flights of stairs when she heard Sylvie scream. She cleared the remaining flight and a half in record time, seeing a glow from the back bedroom. There was the familiar crackle of fire accompanied by the maniacal laughter of the woman, who was standing in the doorway watching. Foster grabbed her radio. The woman seemed to have not noticed her yet, so she spoke quietly. "Main, this is 61. We need immediate police and fire assistance at our current address."
"Copy that, 61," came the reply a few seconds later.
The woman was still gleefully watching the fire in the bedroom, leaned against the hallway wall. In one swift movement, Foster tackled the woman to the ground. The woman writhed and cursed beneath her, but Foster didn't care. She could hear her partner's grunts and could barely see Brett trying to pull Nick out of the flames.
"Brett!" she called out, panicked, but there was nothing she could do unless she was going to let the woman responsible free.
Sylvie could hear Foster outside the room. She grimaced and whimpered as the flames licked her skin. She had to get Nick out.
They'd started only six feet from the door, she was now very close. She pushed backward another three steps and was clear of the doorway. Three more and Nick was all the way out. She jumped around Emily and threw herself on the ground, rolling out the flames that had caught hold of her uniform. She saw a pillow on the couch nearby and grabbed it, quickly returning to beat out the flames on Nick.
"Brett!" Foster said again, still fighting the woman struggling beneath her.
"I'm okay," Sylvie said with a quick glance at her partner as she finished putting out the flames on Nick's clothes.
The fire now consumed the entire bedroom. They had to move.
"Police department!" called a voice from the doorway.
"Over here!" Foster called. "Two paramedics and one vic. I've got the suspect down!"
One officer cuffed the woman and pulled her to her feet, escorting her out. They could hear the fire engine sirens approaching outside. The other officer helped Sylvie get Nick into the stairchair.
Foster approached her partner. "Sure you're okay?"
"Good enough to get out of here. Let's get him out," Sylvie replied.
Foster and the second police officer got Nick loaded and Sylvie hopped in the back while Foster drove. They were on their way to Med just as Engine 51 and Truck 81 pulled up.
While getting checked out at Med, Dr. Halstead applied some antibacterial ointment to Sylvie's burns and bandaged them.
"What about the baby?" she asked nervously.
"If I were you, I wouldn't go pulling another stunt like this," he replied, "but everything seems to be okay. When's your next prenatal appointment?"
She breathed a sigh of relief. "We have it scheduled for after shift tomorrow."
"I'll let Dr. Cameron know what happened. She'll probably just want to run a couple extra tests. In the mean time, you should take off at least the rest of this shift and all of next. We'll play the rest by ear." He offered her a hand off the exam bed, which she gladly accepted.
"Thanks, Will."
"Take care of yourself, Sylvie."
"I will," she said, then went to meet Foster back at the ambo.
When they got back to the station, squad was just pulling out, and truck and engine were still away. Sylvie sighed in relief. She really didn't want to face anyone more than she had to before she got home. She went straight to Boden's office and knocked on the door. "Chief?"
He kept his eyes on his paperwork. "Bre -" he cut himself off. "Casey," he corrected. "Sorry, hab - good god, what happened?" His apology quickly switched to concern when he saw her bandaged arms, burnt uniform, and singed face.
"It's okay, Chief," Sylvie said, stepping in. "It's easier just to keep calling me, 'Brett.' We already have our Casey."
"Brett, what happened to you?" Boden repeated his previous question.
Sylvie carefully recounted the story of what happened and told Boden what the doctors said.
"Does Casey know?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so. I'm going to write up my report, then I'm going home. I'll talk to him after shift."
"You sure?" Boden asked.
She nodded.
"Okay," he conceded.
Sylvie thanked him and exited, retreating to Matt's office to write up her report. Before starting, she texted Stella, asking for a ride home. A rather uncomfortable hour later, she'd finished her report and had left a note on Matt's desk so he knew she was okay. She handed it to Boden, then met Stella outside the firehouse.
"Girl, what happened?" Stella asked as soon as Sylvie sat down in the passenger seat.
"Rough call. Crazy, jealous wife." Sylvie groaned, her burned arms aching as she struggled to reach the seatbelt. She got it after a couple tries and fastened it, wincing as the seat's fabric rubbed against her back and legs.
When she'd finished recounting what happened, Stella shook her head. "Well, I'm glad you're okay." The two rode the rest of the way home in silence.
Boden was waiting for Matt when truck got back to the station. "Casey, a minute."
Matt nodded, quickly scrubbing down his gear and meeting Boden in his office.
"This report needs your signature," Boden said, extending Sylvie's report from the call that morning.
Matt saw his wife's new signature scrolled at the bottom. How had this gotten to Boden's desk before his? "Is she okay?"
Boden nodded. "She just went home. She's off the rest of this shift and next."
Casey furrowed his brows but said no more. He read through the report, the crease further deepening as each detail unfolded. Wordlessly, he signed it, slid it back to the battalion chief, and exited the office.
When they got home, Sylvie gingerly got out of the car and wobbled her way back to the house.
Inside, Stella helped her out of her burned uniform and into a loose pair of sweatpants and one of Matt's sweatshirts, promising to stick around until Casey got home the next morning. Sylvie protested that she would be fine, but Stella insisted. "You can't get rid of me that easy, sista, I'm staying here."
Sylvie simply grinned and thanked her friend. "What would I do without you?"
"Let's not find out."
By supper time, Casey was going crazy. He'd skipped lunch and locked himself away in his office for the majority of the afternoon. It would be a poor decision on his part to skip two meals in a row, so he stalked into the kitchen and grabbed a plate.
"Foster, a minute?" he requested before slipping back toward his office.
She ignored the confused looks that the others at her table shot her, jumping up to follow the Captain.
He set his plate on his desk and leaned against the back wall of his office. Foster stood in the doorway, waiting for him to explain why she was here.
"I need you to walk me through what happened at that call this morning."
"I thought Sylvie filled out a report?"
"She did," he said. "I want to hear it from your perspective."
"Well, uh, you heard the call we got," she started and he nodded. She gave him her version of the story which matched perfectly with Sylvie's account from the report.
When she finished, he sighed and rubbed his brow.
"Are you okay, Captain?" she asked.
He didn't answer, instead waving her away and sitting at his desk. Despite being determined to eat something, the food on his plate was entirely unappealing. He pushed the plate off to the side and tried again to bury himself in paperwork.
But his attempts were in vain. An hour later, he'd made no progress. His head was not in the right place. He needed to go home, or get out of the firehouse at the very least. He called in a relief officer and informed Boden, who told him to go, even before his replacement arrived.
Stella and Sylvie were just finishing supper when Matt got home. They both shot him a questioning look. Why was he home so early? Whatever it was, Stella didn't want to be around to figure it out. She shoved the last bite in her mouth and excused herself with the firm instructions to call if she needed anything.
As soon as she was out the door, everything that had been clouding Matt's mind prior to this moment broke. "What the hell were you thinking, Sylvie?"
She was taken aback. What the hell was she thinking? Glad he cared so much that she was okay. "Excuse me?"
"At the call this morning." He threw his arms to the side. "What the hell were you thinking?"
More like what the hell is he thinking. "I was doing my job. What's the big deal?"
"Last time I checked, pulling people out of fires is my job. Not yours."
"What was I supposed to do, Matt?" she asked, standing up and moving in front of him, "leave the guy in the flames when I read already right there? Just get myself out and leave a vic with a severe head wound to burn?"
"You come first," he retorted, poking a finger at her. "You weren't even in your turnout gear, Sylvie, really."
"There wasn't a fire when we got there. If I had left the guy in there, even just long enough to get my turnout coat, he would be dead right now."
"And what about you, Sylvie? Did you stop to think about that? Last time I checked, you can't help anyone if you're dead."
"There wasn't time to think, Matt. I just did. Tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing."
"Sure, but I would have had a turnout coat on, like you should have."
They were mere inches away from each other, Sylvie's chin stuck defiantly outward, Matt meeting her stare with a tightly clenched jaw.
She huffed, fire burning in her eyes. "If you have that much of a problem with my judgement, Captain, then write me up. Just remember- before you get all cynical on me - that. You. Weren't. There."
There was barely a beat before he responded, in a tone more grudging than mad, "But I should have been."
Sylvie barely had time to register what he'd said before he shook his head and turned toward the door. "I'll be back later," he said without turning around as he stormed out.
He marched out to his truck and got in. The truck grumbled to life when he turned the key. He pulled out onto the road and started driving. He figured he would drive around until he'd cooled down and gotten his head in check.
What the fuck was that all about, Casey? he thought.
It had only been a few short months ago that he'd told Stella that he was okay with her and Sylvie staying on active duty while pregnant. Crap happens on active duty. He knows this all too well. Sylvie was only doing her job. She was right. He would have done the same, and he realized he'd just majorly fucked up.
"Damn it!" He exclaimed, slamming his fist against the steering wheel. The horn honked and an undeserving driver flipped him the bird.
He groaned. Maybe going for a run would have been a better idea.
After another few minutes of kicking himself, a neon sign for a flower shop caught his eye. Quickly making up his mind, he merged to the right lane and found a parking garage three blocks down.
Inside, he bought a bouquet full of Sylvie's favorite flowers and even spent what he would otherwise say was way too much - if not for trying to make up for a colossal mistake - on a box of chocolates. As soon as he'd paid, he hurried back to the truck and was on his way home.
When he got there, he let himself in. Sylvie was sitting on the armchair in the living room, brokenly humming along to whatever was playing through her headphones. His movement caught her attention and she looked up, briefly meeting his eyes then almost immediately averting her gaze.
"Sylvie," he said quietly.
She pulled out one ear bud, but said nothing.
"I, uh, I got you these," he continued, extending the flowers and chocolates toward her.
She raised her brows, unmoving, so he moved to kneel on the floor in front of her and sat the flowers and chocolates down on the coffee table behind him.
"Sylvie, I'm sorry," he said, swallowing hard before he continued, "You didn't deserve that, and I am a total ass for everything I said."
She finally looked up at him.
"I mean it," he said, "You were just doing your job and being the amazing woman and paramedic that we all know and love. My reaction was totally unwarranted."
"Then why?" she asked.
He reached for her hands and, when she didn't pull away, carefully intertwined their fingers. "I love you, Sylvie, and I hope you know how much you mean to me. When I read your report, it reminded me how easy it is to lose people in our line of work. It scared me. I've already lost too many people. I can't lose you, too. Not now, not ever."
Her eyes watered up again, and a tear dropped down her cheek.
"I truly am sorry," he said, "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "My legs took the worst of it, bending them is nearly impossible, so walking will be interesting the next week or two. Dr. Halstead said little one should be okay, though."
Matt let out a sigh of relief. "Would some chocolate make it better?"
She smiled softly at him and carefully pushed herself into a sitting position. "Couldn't hurt," she said. "Those are beautiful flowers. There's a vase under the sink in the kitchen, could you put them in there with some water?"
He nodded and handed her the box of chocolates. He flipped the lid open for her and lightly placed a kiss on her forehead before standing and getting the vase for the flowers.
They spent the rest of the night watching a movie. Matt catered to Sylvie's every want and need. Slowly but surely, the leftover tension in the air dissipated.
The next morning, he woke before her and took a shower before starting breakfast. He made scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. When he finished, he divided it onto two plates and brought them to the bedroom. He set the plates on the nightstands on either side of the bed, then went back to get his coffee and a glass of milk for Sylvie.
When he got back into the bedroom this time, he kissed her awake.
Her eyes fluttered open. "Mornin'" she mumbled.
"Good morning, beautiful. I brought you some breakfast."
She hummed in appreciation. She was quite hungry, but there was one more pressing matter.
"Matt?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Can you help me up? I've gotta use the bathroom."
He quickly obliged, being extra mindful of her burnt limbs.
She returned a few minutes later and the two ate their breakfast before getting ready for their appointment with Dr. Cameron.
Dr. Cameron, after initially shaking her head at Sylvie's burns, conducted an ultrasound. Thankfully, Sylvie's abdomen was untouched by the fire. "Everything looks good," she said. "However, Mrs. Casey, I'm going to strongly recommend you step down from active duty a little earlier than we were originally planning."
Sylvie opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it, instead nodding her agreement. The extra four weeks off duty wouldn't kill her. Plus, Stella would welcome the extra company. She'd only been home a week and she was already going stir crazy.
Matt gently squeezed his wife's shoulder, glad she was going to comply with Dr. Cameron's suggestion. "I'll call Rafferty when we get home - see if she can step in for you until we find a long-term sub."
With that, Dr. Cameron sent the couple on their way.
When they got home again, Matt called Rafferty, who said she'd be glad to cover Sylvie's shifts until they found someone else. Her rent had gone up again at the beginning of the year, so she was starting to have trouble paying it, despite working full time at a different firehouse.
While Matt was on the phone with Rafferty, Sylvie called Emily to give her the heads up.
"You're what?!" Emily exclaimed when Sylvie told her.
"Dr. Cameron thinks it's best, and Matt already seems more relaxed since I agreed to it."
"Speaking of the captain, how is he? He was acting super weird then he just up and left. He didn't even tell Severide he was leaving. Boden had to tell us he went home."
Sylvie pulled her lower lip between her teeth, debating how much to tell her friend.
Foster, hearing her hesitation, quickly added, "I know it's not really my business. I just wanted to make sure you were both okay."
Well, that made things a lot easier. "No, you're fine," Sylvie replied. "He was just worried about me."
"Gotcha. I can't say I blame him. You had me worried there, partner."
"Dr. Cameron said everything is fine with the baby, so I am significantly better than I was 24 hours ago."
"Oh good," Foster said, "But how are you, actually?"
"Walking hurts," Sylvie answered, "well, moving in general, really. I'll probably start shedding dead skin in another day or two and won't be able to bend my knees for the next week."
Emily chuckled. "Look at you - practicing the pregnancy waddle already!"
"My gosh, I would die if I were waddling around for over half the pregnancy!"
"Good thing you're not having twins. They would have you full-on penguin by now." Emily pointed out. "Anyway, Brett, I've gotta get some food and then I'm going to have a nice, long nap."
"That sounds awesome."
"Yeah, shift didn't get any less crazy after you left. Take care of yourself, partner. Call me if you need anything."
"I will. Thanks," Sylvie responded. Then, the friends said goodbye and ended the call.
Sylvie sighed. There was a long time before the baby was born, and she had to spend the rest of it off duty. She looked over at Matt. He was looking right back at her. When their eyes met, his lips quirked upward in a grin, and there was a softness in his eyes that she'd rarely seen.
He came over to her and gently wrapped his arms around her. "I love you," he whispered into her ear. "I'm so glad you're safe."
A warmth flooded her, and suddenly, she wasn't feeling so forlorn about her extended maternity leave. Maybe she would be stir crazy in a couple weeks, but her husband's embrace made her forget all of that. She would be okay because she had Matt, and Matt made everything better.