Somehow it's a bad combination right now – still recovering from having covid and trying to write a story. My attention span is at less than 50% some days, as is my physical condition. I am still tired most of the time.

Anyway, here it is, the latest chapter, unfortunately very short. Oh, it was a great to start writing again. But I don't know if I'm ready to update regularly again.

Chapter 6

It was the clatter of the dishes that woke Kim from her much too short sleep the next morning. Ideally, she would have rolled over again and tried to sleep a little longer. However, she should get up. She should check on the man who had spent the night on her sofa.

Sighing, she flipped off the covers and got up. Sure, she ought to go check on Hank.

For a moment, Kim lingered in the doorway, leaning against it, watching Hank as he just poured himself a cup of coffee.

It made her think of the previous night. Oh, and how she had felt. You know, the moment she'd answered her phone. That moment when she'd heard Voight's voice and feared the worst.

Only one thing had crossed her mind - not wanting to put on her uniform again and attend another funeral. Preferably never again. She didn't want to lose a colleague again Someone who meant a lot to her. And Hank Voight meant something to her. She cared deeply for him.

"Coffee?" his voice snapped Kim out of her thoughts. So lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed that he had turned to look directly at her.

"Mmmh?"

"I made some coffee. Would you like a cup too?" he asked.

Kim nodded. Maybe it would chase away the last bit of tiredness. Coffee was clearly a good idea. Kim reached for the cup in Hank's hand. The cup he had just been drinking from. And took a sip from it.

Normally, a man who deprived her of sleep at night owed her breakfast the next morning - but Hank and she, last night, that hadn't been about having fun. I mean, they hadn't spent the night together in that sense. Not like that, anyway. Unfortunately. Although, she would have liked that - Hank and her, in her bed or on the sofa.

A blush crept into Kim's face at the thought of it. The thought of sex with her sergeant. Oh, where did that thought come from? Well, clearly it was from lack of sleep. An looking at a shirtless Hank Voight. A well-built Hank Voight.

Hank looked at her as if he wanted to say something, but before he could form any words, his phone rang, effectively stopping the moment between the two of them.

Kim watched him talking on the phone. Probably Jay, by the sound of it.

"We're having a case. Oh, and I should probably take a shower and put on something fresh, I mean, on my shirt, so the stains, the blood," he began, though he didn't know how he was going to finish the sentence.

"There are some clean towels in the bathroom on that little shelf under the sink. And I think, wait a minute," she said as she remembered something and put the cup on the table before leaving him alone for a moment.

Looking surprised and thoughtful at the same time, Hank watched her go. This whole morning, that was sort of strange. You know, when he'd woken up here. On Kim's sofa. Not to mention that look. Kim's look. The way she'd looked at him. It had made Hank wonder what she was thinking. AND what she was thinking of him - of her Sergeant, who was out of control, who had no control over his pain. Right now, pain was the only thing he felt at the moment. In fact, his only reminder that he was still alive. I mean, that he was alive while Al was dead.

"Adam left some stuff here when he moved out a while back. And I think this should fit you," Kim said as she came back and held one of the shirts out to him.

For a moment he looked at the shirt before reaching for it. Well, he didn't really have any other choice. They didn't have enough time for them to drive by the precinct where he had a fresh shirt in his locker or to stop at his house.

While Hank stood in her shower, Kim had a moment to think. I mean, to really think. About Hank. Of the last few days and weeks. Oh, and the way things had changed. So Kim knew that Hank couldn't go on like this. I mean, that he shouldn't go on like this. An that he needed a friend. Like Al had been.

A little later, the two drove together to the crime scene, where the rest of the team was waiting for them.

As Jay saw the black eye on Voight, there was a questioning and worried look in his eyes, a look that moved to Kim, as if she had the answer to the silent question. To the question of what had happened to Hank Voight. About what had happened last night.

"Later," Kim mouthed the word. She would explain it to him later.

Jay nodded. Oh, he'd ask her later to tell him the story. On top of that, he wouldn't drop it, because he was worried. Well, for Voight's sake. As well as for Kim. His fear was that she was taking on too much. That maybe Hank Voight was dragging her down into the darkness that surrounded him. Something Jay wanted to prevent at all costs.

Hank, meanwhile, walked up to the body and knelt down. Slowly, he pulled the sheet away and looked at the body.

Meanwhile, the team stood near him. Each busy with a task and at the same time waiting to hear what their sergeant would tell them.

It took a moment for Hank to rise.

"Let's go back to the precinct," he then said. In that instant he felt Adam Ruzek's gaze on him. Saw the moment when the other became aware what kind of shirt it was that he was wearing.

" Thats my shirt", Adam said half aloud.