Hello!

This is the longest chapter to date. I am laughing at myself as I wanted to keep the word count at 5k, but nope, this bad boy is 9k. What is wrong with me? LOL

This chapter is not betaed. All mistakes are my own.

Please let me know what you think. I am a sucker for reviews


Chapter 7:

Unspoken Words


A few months ago

To say shit hit the fan after Maddie left the 118 is an understatement. A massive understatement, but she doesn't have the mental capacity to deal with it. She barely can function as is; so instead, she turns off her phone and heads to work. Initially, she isn't scheduled, but she can't be home. Can't be alone to her thoughts—her horrid, traitorous, guilt-ridden thoughts-, so she calls—before turning off her phone- her boss, Sue, and tearfully begs for a shift. Sue has all kind of questions, but she drops them when she hears the desperation in Maddie's voice, all questions disappear.

When Josh spots her tear-stained cheeks while on a call at her desk, he hesitantly approaches her, his eyes kind and gentle, and cautiously extends his arms out for a hug. Rattling her head back and forth, she waves him off and asks—more like pleads— for him to drop it. She isn't crying presently, her face just ungodly warm, but if she says Evan's name, she will break down again. While she loves each of her coworkers, being an ugly crying mess in front of them is the last thing she wants. She came here to work and help those who may be having the worse day of her life.

For the next 4 hours, Evan is only a distance thought for Maddie as she takes call after call, her tones neutral, and while she hates to admit it, she feels whole. She feels like she can stand without the world spinning. She doesn't want to leave. She wants to sit in his chair and take calls for days, but that isn't practical… or healthy. Maddie knows this. Knows she's going to have to reenter life and move onward with this numbing pain in her chest. I just don't know how to do that, she mentally cries. She deeply breathes through her nose, as she whispers to herself, "Just one step at time." She doesn't have to do everything at once. She doesn't have to have everything planned out. She, feeling a weigh being lifted off her chest, will put one foot in front of the other and wait for Evan to reach-

"Maddie."

Her hand freezing on the keyboard, Maddie just barely suppresses the flinch at hearing Athena's calm yet firm voice over her left shoulder and keeps her eye trained on her screen. She, her heartbeat in ear, breathes slowly though her nose to calm the fires in her belly. She isn't mad at Athena per se, just mad at everything the 118 related, which includes the wife of the fire Captain. Evan's fire Captain. The Captain who made Evan feel like shit. The fire Captain who scared Evan away.

"Maddie," Athena calls again when said woman doesn't response. Her tone is a tad gentler at Maddie's stiff form.

After switching off her availability for oncoming calls, Maddie lets out a harsh sigh and pushes back herself back in her chair. Her eyes twitching, she turns to Athena, who is still geared out in LAPD uniform. "Why are you here?" she asks, skipping all of the normal niceties. It comes out meaner than Maddie intended, but she doesn't find it in her to care.

"Can we talk?" Athena doesn't even blink.

Maddie wants to say no, but going off Athena's penetrating stare, the officer isn't going to take 'no' as an answer. Plus, with Josh and Sue lurking a few desks over, their eyes full of concern and worry, she's lucky that they haven't already pushed, their job stressful. "Okay." She states, slowly, as she gets to her feet and leads her to the break room. Luckily, no one is in the breakroom, though they are still under Josh and Sue's watchful eye, as they eyeball Maddie through the glass. It's a bit unnerving. "I take it you spoke to Bobby?" The name feels like acid on her tongue.

Athena's expression morphs, her eyes darkening. "Yes, I spoke to that man. But how-"

"So, he told you what he did to my brother?" Maddie frantically squeaks. The bitterness is back tenfold, and it's impossible to keep her emotions in check. She just wants to scream. Large tears form in her eyes, threatening to fall. A sob works its way up her throat, which is exactly what she wants to avoid. This is what she needs to avoid.

A thick silence falls as Athena, her expression fallen, collects her thoughts. She dramatically puffs before replying, "At first, he tried to spin it, saying he did what was best for our Buck." 'Our' echoes loudly in the room like slap. "But he cracked in matter of seconds, after his uncomfortable meeting with his Chief. He-"

"Is he sorry? Or is he just 'sorry' because he got yelled at." Maddie interjects coldly, her voice shaking. Would it change anything? Would she forgive Bobby or the house? No, but it might help her feel better if she knows Bobby is truly sorry for his actions. She holds no illusion that Eddie is remorseful for his actions. While she has no idea what's going through that man's heart, he no doubt believes Buck will come running back begging for his forgiveness, which pisses off Maddie. Eddie isn't allowed to abuse her brother but yet expect an apology from Evan.

Athena huffs as she folds her arms across her chest, observing the angry tear dip from Maddie's right eye. "I honestly don't know. He seems like he is, tearing up, but I can't say if I believe him. I don't recognize the man. The Bobby Nash that I married wouldn't have been so cruel to Buck. Wouldn't have hurt him." As her voice cracks, she pauses and takes a deep breath. "I didn't want to have it out while we're both on shift, so I left. I'll deal with him when I get home." The vein pops on her forehead. "But enough with that man, I'm here to check on you. You haven't been answering anyone's calls. How are you, Hun?"

Involuntarily, Maddie's right hand drops to her pocket and traces the edges of her phone through the fabric. How is she supposed to be? Her brother was more or less emotionally tortured every day at work, a career that he loved. It was so bad that he ran way without a single word in a frustrating attempt to protect her. The brother she had been estranged from for years due to her abusive husband and distant parents disappeared. The brother she pretty much raised is gone and Maddie can only wait for him to reach out. "How am I supposed to feel?"

Athena softly exhales, her eyes soft. "Sad, angry-"

"I am angry. I-" Maddie starts before cutting herself off. "But I can't do this. If I do…" She turns from the cop and takes a deep breath. She chokes back a sob.

Taking step forward, Athena reaches out for her. "You—" She shakes her head and instead says, "Just know we're here for you."

Who is this who? Maddie angrily ponders, but she pushes that thought away. Regardless of who this 'we' is, she's done with this conversion, with them; besides, she isn't going to have it out here with Athena. While Athena is not at fault and Maddie knows this, Athena is married to the man who hurt her brother. A traitorous thought wiggles itself up in her fragile state and takes up a space in her head, and she can't help wondering how much Athena knew and how much she let her husband get away with. The resentment is just too intense to fight. "I don't need anything besides you dealing with your husband."

"Maddie." Athena doesn't mess the chilling tone in Maddie's voice.

"No! I can't deal with this, or anything else 118 related right now." Which includes you goes unsaid. Instead, Maddie turns to the door. "I need space." She doesn't wait for a response and crosses back to her desk, while ignoring the pointed stare Josh, Sue and Athena share behind her.


*O*O*


When Maddie turns her phone on, it's flooded with messages and voicemail. None are from Evan. Not a single one, and her heart breaks. Rather, they're from Athena, Carla, Hen, Karen, and Howard- most are from Howard. Maddie, unable to handle it, automatically deletes all of the unread voicemails, not caring to listen to any of them. She quickly glances through the text messages, though not retaining a single word. She leaves them all on unread besides Howard's, which she deletes without a second thought. There's not an ounce of regret in her, her no interest in hearing anything he has to say.

For the next week, Maddie ignores all incoming calls besides those from Sue and Josh and works every shift she can get. After offering her ear, Sue, as friendly and nonjudgmental as she can be, brings up a counselor. Maddie nods, though not admitting that she has already saw her therapist and it did not help, too angry to listen to what he had to say. She ranted at her therapist, vomiting up everything she felt—still feels. She felt worse after, feeling empty. Josh invites her out, offering her a friendly shoulder to cry on. At first, she declines, not wanting to venture out; but eventually, she invites him to her place for movies and ice cream—the perfect atmosphere for crying her eyes dry, which is what happened. Maddie doesn't know what she would do if Josh weren't her friend.

It's at day 8 when there's a knock on her day—Sue forcing her to take a day off. Maddie's hearts leaps, her mind automatically filling up with hopes and thoughts of Evan. She tries to force this hope down, telling herself that this could not be Evan. When Evan runs, he's gone for months until he feels 'normal' again. Yet, she can't help but envision her brother on the other side of the door, broken and tired. "Coming she yells," her voice hoarse.

Any hope she has is shredded when she flings the door to reveal Howard. "Hey." He, his voice soft and his cheeks red, smiles as he stuffs his hands into pockets, looking half his usual size.

In an instant, her mood drops. "What are you doing here?" she hisses, her tone is nastier than she intends—not that she wants to be friendly with him.

Howard winks as if he has been slapped. "You've been ignoring my calls." He says slowly and timidly.

"I've been ignoring everyone," Maddie counters as she folds her arm across her chest.

"Yea, I know."

Maddie's eye twitches. "I take it you spoke to the others. Comparing notes?"

His eyes go large. "No." He inhales deeply and exhales slowly. "No. We're just worried. Can I come in and talk?"

At first, Maddie almost slams the door in Howard's face, her nail digging into the wood, but spotting a neighbor peeking her head out her door in a sneaky attempt to listen in—fucken noisy neighbor-, she changes her mind. She also can't deny that she's curiously. What exactly did her brother go through? Was it only mental abuse? What was Howie's part in this? How can he say he loves her when he hurt Evan? "Fine." She bits out, as she moves to the side.

Howie, hunched over, thickly swallows as he steps pass her into the apartment. He doesn't stop until his legs hit the sofa, his back to her until she closes the door. "Tha-"

The Elder Buckley doesn't let him get the word out. "Don't thank me. Don't read into this. I just want to know what you did to my brother."

Sadness flicker across his eyes. "I didn't do anything to Buck." He protests a little too loudly before he bits down on his lips. Taking a deep breath, he brings his hand to his face and holds the bridge of his nose. "I just didn't-"

Maddie nails him with nasty glare. "You just didn't what?! Didn't stand up for him? Pretended it wasn't your problem and ignore him? Allowed him to be torn apart? Please tell me what you allowed to happen." She isn't sure what Howard, who physically recoiled, expects from her, but he isn't prepared to deal with her anger. Maybe, he expected her to have cooled down after 7 days, but oh boy, he's dead wrong. Her anger is worse. Each day that goes by without a call or message from Evan feels like a punch to the throat and her anger doubles.

Howie lets a pained howl. "I… I… I'm sorry. I was a coward I know, but I just-"

"Stop," she snaps. "I don't want your excuses. This is my brother we're talking about. My brother! How can you say you love me when my brother was suffering?" Her chest is tight, her world spinning.

He stands impossibly still, heavy shadows under his eyes. "I was scared, Maddie." He takes a deep breath, hesitating. "This isn't an excuse, but…" He shakes his head, a bad taste in his mouth. "I was having flashback to when I first joined the 118, pre- Bobby. No one wanted me there me there. I was treated less than."

Maddie buffs out her chest. She has heard the stories, Howie explaining how some former 118 members treated him like trash and was forced to stay back in the firehouse. She's sure some of it is mirrored, but that doesn't douse her anger. It makes it worse. "Is that supposed to make it better? Evan's my brother. And he wasn't abused by a random person. He was treated like shit by his friends, his family. His pain was ignored. No, wait. It wasn't ignored. You – the entire station—instigated it. Evan's a social butterfly, who thrives on positive attention. He lives off physical contact and you all stole that from him."

"Maddie." It's followed by a wounded cry.

"So, no. Don't compare the two." Maddie would never downplay what Howie and Hen went though, both mistreated for who they are, but it isn't the same. It isn't. "Don't use that as an excuse."

Howie closes his eyes. "You're right. It isn't the same, and I should've stood up for Buck." Hindsight is 20/20.

…But Maddie's heart drops, a realization hitting her. She has no idea if he's saying this because it's what she wants to hear or if he means it. Her heart constricts…she can't trust him. Can't trust he means it. "Yes, you should've, but that doesn't change anything. I can't look at you the same knowing you sat back and let Eddie and Bobby…" She takes a deep breath. "…d-degrade my brother and did nothing. Do you disagree?"

It looks like Howie is about to choke before he painfully gulps and says, "It wasn't like that."

Maddie, lightheaded, doesn't want to ask this, but she needs to. "How was it? Did…" She pauses. "Did it get physical?"

Howard is taken back, his eyes large. "No. NO!" He protests. "There were a few times that Eddie got really angry that-" he fiercely shakes his head. "I wouldn't have let it get that far. I promise you that."

"Your promises mean nothing." She snarls. "What mentally draining insults did they throw at my brother?"

When Howard doesn't answer, she knows she's on the right track and wants to push for more, but she can't. She can't visualize her happy go lucky brother losing his spark. "Tell me how my brother was shunned while you stood by and did nothing." Something breaks in Howard and tears fall, which makes Maddie angrier. "And you didn't tell me. I understand—though it breaks me—why Evan didn't. He was thinking about me, putting me first! He wants me happy, which no one was doing for him! You-" She pauses a jagger finger at him. "—couldn't even tell me. Why didn't you tell me?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Tears are running down her face.

A visible shiver runs down his back. "I don't know. I don't know." Howard repeats. "Too ashamed. Too scared."

Maddie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Why did you come here? For my forgiveness?" Her heart skips a beat. "I'm sorry, I can't." She doesn't even want to give it to him.

Howard hides his face in his heads for a second before he works up a nerve to peep out over his hands. "Tell me what I have to do. Please tell me what I can do."

"Unless you can bring my brother back? Nothing. There's nothing. The very sight of you makes my blood boil." She closes her eyes and forces herself to breath. "Please just leave."

"M-Maddie." He chokes on a sob.

"I don't know what else you expect, Howard. My brother is gone, out there alone." Maddie doesn't even know what she wants. She can't think straight. "I can't do t-this. I can't…do u-us." While she's pissed, she doesn't want to say it. Doesn't want to ask for a break. Howie is her home. Evan gave his all to protect her relationship with Howard. "Please just go."

His shoulders drop. "Okay, I'll leave. I'll wait however long you need. I will-"

"There's no us without Evan." Maddie cut off, hastily, finally the courage. "I don't want to hear from you until I hear from Evan." Howard's face falls, but she doesn't care. Evan may never reach out, and she doesn't care if that's fair to Howard. She's angry. "So go." Without another word, Howard turns and leaves while Maddie slams the door behind him.

Life doesn't change for Maddie after her chat with Howard. She continues to ignore the 118 extended family and works every shift she can get. This doesn't change, well not until a certain postcard comes in the mail, a postcard from the Grand Canyon, a week later. Maddie's heart skips when she traces the crinkle edges for 5 minutes, unable to find the strength to turn it over. While it's a relief, it's also bittersweet. You got this. With a deep breath and slip of water, she turns it over, her heart stopping, when she reads Evan's messy handwriting.

'Hey Mads, I'm fine. Just need time. Love you, Evan.'

It isn't what she wants, but she'll take it. Yet, she doesn't tell anyone about the postcard, not even Josh. She doesn't tell anyone about the postcards after. She doesn't show anyone the smile she has after reading the novel Evan writes on the Blue Whale postcard, even if Josh sees the little change in her. She also does not tell anyone when she sees the word 'pregnant' on her pregnancy test several weeks later.


*O*O*


Present-

Kelly, besides a moment in his life that he wants to forget, rarely goes out the night before a shift, but there's an itch under his skin. Not his normal sex itch. Just an odd itch that he cannot scratch. It started the second Buck rushed out of the firehouse to float at Firehouse 40 and has hung on since. He can't explain it. Grainger is a good guy, an amazing firefighter Lieutenant, and anyone would love to serve under him, but yet, the itch. He doesn't like the idea of Buck at another station, which is odd considering he's a floater. That's the entire point of the part time position. And yet, Kelly hates it.

"Hey, you okay?" Stella asks, interrupting his thoughts, as she leans across the bar at Molly's with another beer for Kelly.

"Yea," Kelly utters, as he takes the beer she's offering.

Stella hums to herself, her eyes drifting down the bar. "If that's the case, you would be partying down there." She nods to the two giggly ladies at the end of his stare. "They've been eyeing you like a piece steak for the last hour."

Even though it has been months since their 'break up' – if it could be call that since the word exclusive was ever used-, it's still odd for her to be championing for his sex life. Kelly isn't complaining per se, not totally angry at the results, as he's glad that they aren't weird around each other. "I'm aware." He replies with a cheeky smile. He spotted the ladies a few hours ago with their over-the-top laughter, but he ignored them and nursed his beer, thinking of ways to annoy Grainger enough to not request his floater anymore, which he is still doing.

"And you didn't go over and jumped right in?" Stella winks at him. "Or can you not handle two women anymore?"

Kelly rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to prove her wrong. This is their thing: teasing, daring and one upping the other. No, Kelly, not this time. He argues with himself, idea feeling particularly gross. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. "Can you?" he jests, tipping his beer to Stella.

"There's nothing I can't handle." Stella counters spiritedly while giving him a playful wink before she turns her attention to a new comer who has just walked in. "But business calls."

"Sure, sure." Exaggeratedly rolling his eyes, Kelly leans back in his chair and scans the bar for a distraction, noticing Foster in a corner booth with a woman. Judging by how touchy feely they are, they're more than friends. Not wanting to interrupt an intimate moment, he shakes his head and settle back in his chair with his beer. He-

"Glad to see her out. She's been obsessing over the floater for a hot second." Stella is suddenly back in front of him, a rag and glass in hand and her sharp stare on the corner booth.

Kelly's eyes pop up, his green eyes drilling into her. His last slip surges back up his throat and across his lips, his stomach twitching. "She… What?!" he asks, coughing.

Stella's eyes zip to him and narrow with intensity. "She's been eyeballing Buckley for a few shifts now, saying he free gain since he's a floater. I can't fault her too much." Her stare relaxes, a smile forming. "Have you seen his ass?" she snorts, turning away to service a new customer before Kelly can respond.

A poisonous bitterness bubbles up his esophagus, and it takes all of Kelly's strength to force down the physical recoil from hearing Foster's intention. Considering how Bucks keeps to himself, Kelly doubts this—whatever Foster's intentions are—will advance pass staring, though that doesn't stop the pinch in his gut at hearing it. Buck deserves more than a roll in a sack. He deserves to be treated like a king. While Kelly still doesn't know Buck's backstory, he knows it's traumatic, and he needs support, not some horny person checking him out.

But he has seen Buck's ass.

The crack of knuckles on the bar top draws Kelly's attention, his glare slipping. When Kelly's head pops up, he's met with Herrmann's worried stare, Herrmann who is standing directly in front of him with a large box of glasses. "You okay?" He asks, though not really asking.

Kelly cracks a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?" he asks, as he swirls his bottle and points it at Herrmann. "Unless you were talking to Casey?"

Herrmann enthusiastically waves his free hand at Kelly. "Not talking. He texted!" he replies, cheekily, as if that changes things.

"Same thing." Kelly rolls his eyes.

Putting down the heavy box, Herrmann spins—a little too happily- and starts to stack the glasses quickly but gently on the shelves. "He's just worried. And seeing you nurse that beer, I can't blame the guy."

Kelly puffs out his chest and leans back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest. Of course, Casey is checking in on him. "I'm fine. Just needed to get out." He replies, feeling the two ladies' stare on him once again. "Nothing's up."

Herrmann, over his shoulder, gives him a disbelieving look, but he doesn't call him on it. "If you say so."

Even if Kelly wants to talk, he doesn't know how to explain it, doesn't know what to make of the whole situation. He just knows it starts with Evan 'Buck' Buckley. "I-" Kelly cuts himself off as the door to Molly's opens and Lieutenant Greg Grainger, with a few of his buddies, strolls in, a smile on his face. That toxic bitterness from earlier is back in full force at the sight of the grinning Lieutenant.

"Hey, what's with the face?" Herrmann asks, waving his hand in front of Kelly.

Kelly, his angry expression slipping into confusion, turns back to Herrmann. "What?" He utters, blinking, and not realizing he has gone so stiff, he forces an over the top smile to his face. "I have no face. All smiles." He, pretending a certain Lieutenant hasn't walked in, points to the smile on his face.

Herrmann gives him a skeptical look, but he doesn't get a chance to ask. "Severide," A voice greets from behind him.

Knowing exactly who it is, Kelly bites the inside of his cheek to keep his smile up and turns around, his beer still in hand. "Grainger." He greets, titling the beer to him.

Grainger, the fake smile going over his head, slips in between two bar stools and motions to Stella, who smiles when she notices even though she is with another customer. "Herrmann," he greets with a nod. Most of his buddies take a seat at a table, but one follows suit and lines up next to Grainger.

After stacking the last glass, Herrmann drops the box and kicks—a bit too hard- it down the bar before he turns around. His eyes, calculating, bounce between Kelly and Grainger three times before settling on Grainger. "I hear Buckley floated at your station yesterday. How it go? Think you would offer him the spot?" Herrmann asks, unaware of the can of worms he has just opened.

"Kept to himself and stayed out on the apparatus floor the entire night like a weird loner," the buddy shots out, nonchalantly.

Kelly's eyes narrow, his hot stare on the side of Grainger's face. If his eyes were laser, the lieutenant would've had a hole on the side of his face. His left hand drops to his side and balls, nails digging into his skin, as he attempts to snuff the misplaced bitterness. In Grainger's defense, he looks just as stunned as Kelly feels at hearing it, but that's meaningless to Kelly. All he hears is that Buck alone on the apparatus floor cleaning and he's pissed, everything red. "And you just let him," he snaps, as he slams his beer on the countertop, the bottle splintering. A stream of golden-brown floods out from the shattered glass.

Heads turn at Kelly's irate outburst, his voice echoing across the room, and not wasting a second, Stella, eyes wide, makes her way over. Herrmann, his worry masked by a small smile, is ready to climb over the bar as he leans over the bar between Kelly and Grainger. "Hey now." He states a little too loudly. "Hey now. We're all friends here."

Grainger shoots his buddy a sharp look before he turns back to Kelly, bending around Herrmann, who's feet are practically off the ground. "Severide, that isn't-"

Kelly knows if he stands up, this will escalate to a physical fight, even if he stands to avoid the beer is dipping from the side of the bar, and he would do anything to avoid getting into a fight at Molly's, but man, he wants to. The idea of Buck, sad and alone, cleaning everyone's messes in the middle of the night boils his blood. He will put stop to that. "Didn't think you were like other houses, putting a floater to work like that."

"Kelly." Stella calls, shock on her face.

A thick, deafening silence descends, the entire Bar stilled, as Grainger just stares, wide eye at Kelly. The confusion only lasts a second before he gets defensive, though more relax than Kelly. "I didn't let Buckley do anything. I attempted several times to get him to join us, but he wouldn't. What do you want me to do? Drag him out?" He pauses, nailing Kelly sharp stare. "That wouldn't have turned out well. He's stubborn like a certain lieutenant I know."

No, clarification is needed, everyone knows who Grainger is referring to, and while Kelly can't deny it, he deflates. Buck is a lot like him. While it doesn't change the fact that Buck isolated himself from the rest of a station, the idea that Grainger checked on the Floater settles the fire in Kelly's belly. Grainger is a decent person. Yet, Kelly still doesn't like the idea of Buck at the firehouse 40. "Sorry. Sorry." He waves off and settles back in his chair, his eyes dropping to the broken bottle. He avoids both Herrmann and Stella's heated, questioning stares as he takes picks at the glass shards.

Utterly perplexed, Grainger stares at the side of Kelly's face for 30 seconds before he turns back to the bar, his eyes on Stella. "It's…um…fine." There's a slight dip in his voice. "Budweiser, bottle," he waves. "And a replacement for him." His points to Kelly.

After tossing a towel on the wet spot in front of Kelly, Stella, her eyes still glued to him, nods before she turns to the tiny beer frig. "Got it."

"You okay, Severide?" Herrmann asks again, not stepping away. This time he wants an honest answer. He doesn't take his eyes off the Lieutenant, not trusting the man just yet, as he reaches for a small trashcan.

Kelly glances to the side, meeting Grainger's eyes. "Yea," he replies as he accepts a new—cold—bottle from Stella.

After sliding his cash across the bar and accepting his own bottle, Grainger breaks the staring contest and steps back from the bar top. He, his nailing his buddy with a warning stare, takes a big slip before he says, "Floater or not, I would not treat any of my guys differently." He pauses. "I hope you know that."

It isn't whether Kelly knows it or not—he does-; rather, it's the heart piecing thought Buck alone in the dark that gnaws at Kelly. He still can't explain why he feels so strongly over the man, Buckley who wiggled into his heart at first sight. Instead of trusting his own mouth, he brings his beer back to his lips and tilt it up ever so slowly.

Grainger glances over his shoulder at this group of friends. "I just want the best for the kid, which I think we can all agree on. Right?"

Kelly lets out a tiny huff, as he stares down into the bottle. "Right." He swirls the bottle. "Right." He repeats, needing to hear the word. After some self-reflection, Kelly can admit this isn't the first time he has taken a lost firefighter under his wings, though this is the first time that said firefighter has their hands wrapped around Kelly's heart. Why? Yes, all of his coworkers- his family- have some kind of hold on his heart. He would die for Casey. He would die for each of them, but this is something else.

"So that means we just gotta support the kid and show that we're there for him," Herrmann interjects, observing the small twitch in Kelly's lips. After Casey's warning about Buckley, Herrmann has been notating both their odd behavior. "Without biting each other's head off, especially in my bar." He adds, annoyance littering his tones.

"Sorry, I'm…" Kelly drifts off, as he, finger swirling, points to his head.

"It's fine. The key is not letting it get bad before you ask for help." After sliding the glass into the trashcan, Herrmann, the earlier tension gone, nods and taps his knuckles on the bartop. He looks at the two lieutenants. "You two good?" After both men nod, he turns and walks down the bar to Mouch and Trudy, who has been eyeing the scene ready to jump in if needed.

Grainger eyeballs Kelly, lingering for a moment while his buddy steps away to join the table, bouncing drinks in his hands. He rocks back and forward on his toes before he settles and says, "Hey, keep an eye on Buckley's shoulder. He-"

Kelly sits up, that bitterness back. "What?"

The severity in Kelly's tone gives Grainger pause, and it takes a second to regain his thought process. "He…jammed his shoulder up during a call, saving an intelligence officer from a speeding car and me from a falling light post when said car smashed into our crush scene which was sent into a light post. Quick reflexes that one has."

A few things pass through his mind, but why doesn't he have Buck's cell number is at the top. That has to change. "How bad?" Kelly asks, slowly mouthing out each word in attempt to sound 'normal.' Getting hurt on the job is common he says to himself, but the beer on his tongue sours. He almost gags on it.

"I don't know. He hid it pretty well for a hours. I didn't notice until a few calls later, but I got him to accept the ice pack I gave him. So that's a plus." He adds. "Didn't stop him from his normal nighttime activities though."

Normally, when someone says nighttime activities, they meant something dirty, but everyone knows what Buck's nighttime activities is. Not wanting to snap at Grainger again, Kelly slaps down a tip and gets up. "Thanks." He utters as he turns to the door. If someone calls out to him, he just waves them off and steps out of Molly's.


*O*O*


Still in the funky mood from the previous day, Kelly has kept mostly to himself- Casey has rolled his eyes at him 8 times since returning to the apartment- until he spots Buck bent over in the locker room on the bench, lacing up on his boots. The sense of relief that flows through his body at the sight of Buck is unexplainable, and just like that, Kelly feels lighter, releasing the breath he doesn't know he's holding. While Grainger only mentioned jamming up his shoulder, Kelly did worry his injuries far extended that, but Buck seems to be in good shape overall. "Hey, Buck."

Buck glances up, and for an instant—only an instant-, there's a smile on his face before it disappears behind a mask. "Lieutenant Severide," he greets. "Hey." Just a tad of awkwardness leaks through.

"How's the shoulder?" Kelly asks, his eyes dropping to his shoulder.

Exhaling, Buck asks softly, "So, Lieutenant Grainger…told you?" A pause, Buck's chest thumping. "Of course, you guys talk. Why wouldn't you talk? Makes total sense." With a deep, shaky breath, he swinks, his eyes on his shoes. "I'm fine. It's fine. I can still do the job." Buck doesn't have to say anything, his body language betraying everything. He's scared.

There're a few ways that Kelly can play this, but whatever he does, he has to do it with kindness. He has to be gentle. "I wouldn't say we talk." Kelly would not describe what Grainger and he did as talking. "His number is not in my phone," Kelly says as he takes a seat next to Buck on the bench. Like someone else. "Just ran into him at Molly's." Buck nods, his breathing slowly. "Just drinking when he mentioned it. I'm glad he did." He fumbles with his next words. "Because I care. I care if you are hurting. Okay?"

Buck's head pops up, and his blue eyes drill into Kelly's green eyes, holding this intense, heated stare for two minutes. It's like they are looking into the other's soul, their emotions on show, but whatever he's looking for, he must've seen it as he twists away. "Okay." Red blooms on his face, his eyes on drilling into the locker in front of him.

Kelly smiles, his heart still fluttering in his chest. Were Buck's eyes always that blue? God, they are beautiful. "So, tell me, Buck. How is your shoulder?" He asks, modeling Buck's pose.

"It's good, just a little sore."

"You will tell me when it isn't, right?"

At first, Buck looks like he will deny the request, his jaw mouthing what looks like a no, but "…Yes."

"Everything okay in here?" A voice shoots out.

Kelly, right eye twitching, turns to the door and holds back a groan when he spots Casey by the end of the lockers. His best friend/Roommate really does have shitty timing, doesn't he? Unless he does this on purpose. "I feel like you have little faith me," he jokes, as he turns his back to Buck to shot Casey a dirty look.

"Oh, because I do." Casey teases, like the fucker that he is. There's even a cheeky gin on his stupid face. Why is Kelly friends with him? "Do you remember the time-"

Kelly leaps to his feet, his finger a pointed digger in Casey's chest. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare, Matt." Said man laughs. Oh, he is totally dead. "All the stories I can tell." Half the stories that Casey has in his arsenal are truly funny and Kelly will laugh right alongside his best friend when Casey tells them, but there're a quite a few that he does not want to see the light of day. Buck does not need to hear those ones. "Mutually assured destruction."

Casey dramatically rolls his eyes before letting out a loud, 'oh please' chuckle. "Yea, but does Boden know about who-"

"Silence!" Kelly shots out, which earns an over-the-top shrug from the captain. "Here I thought you loved me? Is it too late to get a new best friend?" He can feel that betrayal right in his soul, which he comically adds out. "Oh, the pain," he mocks, his grabbing at his heart.

"I should be asking you that question."

"That's it. I'm kicking you out." The fake pain is gone, replaced by some over the top comical anger.

Casey tries to look offend, but there's no hiding the smile in his eyes. "You'll be lost without me, Severide."

Kelly playfully gasps, his hand to his mouth in an imaginary astonishment. "How many times have I saved your ass? And this is the thanks I get?"

Just keeping back his squeaks, Casey's cheeks are red, barely able to keep down the rolling laughter that threats to explode from his lips. "Hmm," he hums. "No wonder I'm the Captain here. You're misremembering all of the times I save you. Where would you be with me?" he asks with a shrug, his hands in the air.

"I know where you would be without," Kelly snorts.

The redness in Casey's face is gone, and he is now giving Kelly a slanted but amused stare. "Oh, really?"

"Just think of all the lonely nights." Kelly teases while he wiggles his fingers in a provocative motion. "I know your bottom half…"

A shiver runs through Casey's body, and he chokes on his next breath, a mutilated cough crossing over his lips. "S-Severide," comes Casey's mangled reply.

A piecing laugh echoes across locker room, cutting through the air like a knife, and stuns both Kelly and Matt who freeze in their step. All playful jester stops. Behind Kelly on the bench, Buck, his eyes squeezed and face blood red, is tilted to his left side, almost laying down, in a fit of giggles, while he holds onto his side for dare life, a fit so intense that it must be hurting his ribs. At first, Kelly just stares, his heart tight in his chest at hearing Buckley laugh so loudly and free. He has seen tiny laughs and smiles, ones that Buck tries to hide, here and there, but man, his laugh just goes to Kelly's heart.

Kelly's breaths go hallow, his lungs failing on him, as he continues to stare at Buck. He can vaguely feel Casey's eyes on his back, but he, mouth open, is staring at Buck, who looks completely different to him. The heaviness in his shoulder is gone, and the smile is so bright, it's blinding. Kelly, feeling lightheaded, wants to bottle it up. And yet, there's this fury in him, pissed that someone has taken someone as bright as Buck and turned him into that shy, closed off man who showed up at fire house 51.

A good minute passes before the laugher stops and Buck composes himself, his breathing still a heavy as he gasps for air. He looks delirious from the lack the air, as he slowly pushes himself back up into a sitting position. Soon the blood red of laughing too hard turns into a pale pink, his eyes bouncing between the two. "Um, Sorry." He mutters. "I just-"

Casey leans to the side, his eyes gentle, and says, "You're good. Just as long as you're laughing at this idiot and not me."

"Hey!" Kelly turns—sad indeed—from Buck and nails Casey with a cold, yet mischievously stare.

Buck, the blue in his eyes sparkling, looks so light that he could float away. "Well, if the s-"

Kelly will never know what Buck's next words would've been as the alarm picks that very moment sound off, which earns a very strong 'fuck you' glare from him.


*O*O*


The first call of the day is regularity easy, though a bit funny, and it takes a stern look from Kelly to keep Capp from laughing. A kid—though far too old to be sticking himself into tiny places—didn't want to go to school and hid in a side loading washer. When Squad 3 arrives on scene, the mother is screaming at the boy, not a once of fear or shame in her. Kelly winces at the amount of tension in the room, the father hiding behind a door, but he ignores it and gives out orders, his voice softer than normal. The boy is so jammed in that they have to take the washer apart, which has the mother boiling. Kelly has to stand between Buck and the mother, as he takes out the drill gun. Once they're back in the truck, Cruz jokes about calling CPS because the mother is going to beat the living shit out of son.

The second call, in a long busy day, is minutes after the first call is cleared: a nasty car accident between two hot heads, who get into a fist fight seconds after Squad 3 frees the second driver. The third call has everyone, including Buck, laughing as there's a teen trapped in every possible playground equipment. A group of kids decided to play hooky and got trapped; Kelly suspects drugs, but that doesn't change his job. He has some teens to free. Two are trapped in baby swings. One is stuck in a closed slide, the teen too big to slide through the tube. One climbed in the famous Corkscrew Climber and got stuck, this one whining like a big baby.

The fourth call is a fire at a medium sized office building, and all of 51 is called. Chief Boden's voice booms over the radios as they search the building, giving them a time limit. Kelly splits Squad 3 up: Cruz and Capp together searching the bullpen, and Buck with him searching the personal offices. While no fire is ever 'standard', they move quickly through the building like textbook, escorting out several employees in a matter of seconds. The problem arises when they come across the final office to clear, the entire door frame melted, and it will not budget for anything, the doorknob gone.

Before Kelly could tell Buck to move, Buck rams his right shoulder—yes, the right shoulder- into the door, when a woman screams from the other side of the door. It takes Buck, his eyes hard, two tries to break down the melted door, Kelly's shoulder aching at the sight of it, but Buck masks the pain and, without missing a beat, takes the woman full weight. Kelly moves pass him and does a quick sweep of the room before radioing the building is clear and following the Floater out.


*O*O*


After the fire, the calls slow, and the house is able to enjoy some downtime. Night has fallen and dinner is pretty much a free for all, most settling for sandwiches. It's too late for anything complicated, and no one wants to wait. "I'm starving! Move out of my way," Mouch shouts.

"Oh, hold your horses. Missing one meal isn't going to kill you." Cruz rolls his eyes.

Buck's eyes dart across the floor, eyeing the grumpy hungry frown. "Well," he starts, a small shake in his voice. The hope in his eyes is intense. "Skipping a meal can lead to gain weight when we return to eating our usual amount of food."

Kelly's heart constricts at the open expression on Buck's face, his fear written on his face. He recognizes this for what it is: Buck is putting himself out there. While Kelly knows 51 won't leave Buck hanging, he will make sure it won't, not when Buck is finally speaking. However, he worries for nothing.

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Cruz shots out, his hand out. "I can't gain any weight. This body is prefect. Everyone out of the way!"

"Your perfect body? Look at this!" Mouch motions to his body, proudly puffing at his belly. "This is perfect."

Brett comes on behind Buck and gently grips him by the elbow. "Are there anything else we need to know about missing a meal?" She hums, while giving him a large smile.

Unlike with everyone else, Buck does not pull away from Brett. "Your blood sugar decreases, which makes it harder to think straight."

"Okay, we definitely need to get some food into Galo then."

"Hey!"

A playful chatter erupts as it becomes a competitive challenge of who gets the first sandwich, the sandwich to save their 'perfect' weight and their super smarts. While 'hateful' words are said, there's no heat, a smile on everyone's face. While Boden's eye twitches at the mess left on the floor from the battle for food, he doesn't say anything and leaves the room with a disapproving yet approving shake of the head.

After the mess was cleaned up, Kelly intercedes Buck, a sandwich in hand, before he can disappear down the hallway to the locker room. "How's the shoulder?" he asks.

Buck's eyes meet his, a weak lie on his tongue, and answers, "It's fine."

Kelly resists the urge to roll his eyes, the Floater reminding him too much of himself. "Buck." He warns, soft and gentle. While he understands Buck doesn't admit it, everyone on his crew needs to be honest with him.

Swallowing his next words, Buck takes a deep, shaky breath. He opens his mouth a few times before he settles with, "it hurts, but nothing I can't deal with."

Is this common for Buckley? This is the second time that he has tried to downplay his injuries to Kelly, and at first, it annoys the lieutenant because they are a team—yes, hypocritical of him. However, the scared, suspicious look in his beautiful blue eyes snuffs that annoyance. Kelly has deducted already that Buck's former friend has hurt him badly, but as Buck stares at him, distrust—which Kelly does not take personally- in his eyes, Kelly wonders if his former captain has as well. He observed how silent Buck got the first time he mentioned his Old Captain and when Boden called him to his office. Did something happen between Buck, his former Friend, and Former Captain?

One of the privileges of being a lieutenant is the ability to pull Firefighter's records, but that feels wrong. He wants Buck to trust him, and that won't help if he goes digging into Buck's backstory. Kelly has faith that in time Buck will trust him. "Take it easy for the rest of the shift and put some ice on that thing." Buck opens his mouth to protest, but Kelly cuts him off, "this includes cleaning, and I mean no cleaning, Buck. That's an order." Kelly doesn't wait for a response and heads to his office to do some paperwork.


*O*O*


Kelly isn't sure what time it is when he gets up to relieve his internal plumbing, but he can't get back to sleep, tossing and turning for a good 20 minutes. He's this close in smothering himself in his pillow, but he gives up instead and gets up. He might as well walk around the station and work out his itch before trying again. Hearing the tones of the television, he heads to the common room first. At first, he thinks someone left it on in error, which wouldn't be the first time, but this time, someone is sitting in front of it, a bag of ice on his shoulder. "Buck." He utters, recognizing the shoulders

The words are barely a whisper, but Buck whips around, their eyes meeting. "Sorry. D-did I wake you? I'm promise. I did not clean."

Even if he did, Kelly wouldn't chastise him, not when he is looking at him like that. Like he is waiting to be slapped. "No. Can't sleep. You?" he asks, as he slowly makes his way over to the couch.

Buck nods, his eyes following Kelly. "Shoulder." His response is short and neutral. "It's…" He huffs, winking, as he tries to move it, pain shooting though him.

Kelly knows that ach well, the phantom pain already making it went through his arm just at the sight of Buck. "Can I look?" he asks, lingering a few feet behind the couch.

"Um…" There's a war behind Buck's blue eyes, a life time reflected in them. "Sure."

With a single nod, Kelly, his heart deafening, makes his way over to the couch while Buck works his shirt up and over his right shoulder. Been firefighting for nearly two decades, not much surprises him anymore, but he involuntarily winks when he spots the nasty discoloration along the skin, no doubt his rotator cuff is bruised. "I take it that's where you hit the ground." He asks, pointing to the shoulder joint, as he takes a seat next to Buck.

"Yea." Buck answers as he repositions himself on the couch, his back to Kelly and his eyes on the wall. He lets out a small snort. "Two times now."

"Casey got hit by a car on the scene. It wasn't going very fast, but still." Kelly reaches forward, his fingers hovering over the skin. "May I?" he asks, nervous.

Buck thickly swallows, the gulp going through his entire body. "Y- Yea." He breathes through his nose. "Since Captain Casey is walking around, it couldn't have been too bad."

It wasn't funny at the time, but looking back at it now, it's a little funny, just a little. Kelly will always find an angry Casey, cheek puffing, funny, especially when it isn't directed at him. "Yea, the car wasn't going too fast." He replies, as he tenderly put his left hand the top of Buck's bare shoulder, while his right goes to his arm. The warmness of Buck's skin is a shock to the system, and there's a warm tingle that runs up his arm, almost feeling like electricity running through him. Kelly lifts Buck's arm, creating a straight line, and as gentle as he can, he begins to move Buck's arm in a circular motion. "Good?"

"Yea" Buck fights back a wink and a whimper, his muscles twitching, as he teases, "Chicago drivers."

Kelly feels the tension in Buck relax just a tad, the warmth welcoming. "Oh, really?" He asks, playfully insulted. "Before I accept that insult, I need know where you're from."

The floater tenses a bit before he breathes through it. "I've been everywhere. Originally from Pennsylvania, but spent the last few years in LA." The words are a battle, Buck forcing them out.

The tone, which enforces his previous theories, strikes Kelly, but he isn't going to push on it, when Buck is ready to bolt. "Wait, you're judging us Chicagoans when you came from Los Angeles? Nope. Nope. Denied." He laughs as he switches the direction he rotates Buck's arm. He can feel Buck's pounding heart beat under his fingers.

"Well, considering…" Buck, the tension gone, drifts off, allowing Kelly to fill in the blank.

Unaware of what he's doing, Kelly changes the positions of his hands—both hands on Buck's shoulders now— and begins to swirl his thumbs, caressing the skin ever so gently. "I think you're in denial."

Buck tilts his head back ever so softly, his breathing heavy. "As someone who has traveled this country, I can say with certainty that Chicagoans are horrible drivers."

Kelly squeezes. "I'm pretty sure Los Angeles is on every list for the worst drivers in the US. You aren't going to win this one." There's a knot at the base of Buck's neck, and still not processing what he's doing, he begins to work the knot, kneading it softly. Kelly's thumps digs into Buck's back.

"We can have…" A primal grunt erupts from Buck's lips, which hits Kelly right in a core. It's followed by a long, gutted moan.

"You okay?" Kelly asks huskily, his tone dipping. Buck's moan slaps him, and a crushing heat settles down in a gut, stealing his very breath. There's no relief as he's hit by another one of Buck's long whispering groans and he squeezes harder.

"Yea," Buck hoarsely replies, as he leans back into Kelly. "I'm g-good."

Buck's voice shots right through Kelly, his blood flowing down, and-

"Am I interrupting something?"

Heart pounding, Buck's eyes—when did they close?—snaps open, and he breaks out of Kelly's grip and leaps to his feet as if he has been burned. "Nothing." He squeals, slipping his right arm back into his sleeve. Buck's eyes are squarely on the wall, as he attempts to hide the red that travels all the way down his neck. "Gotta go." He doesn't wait for a response and bolts from the room, his footprints echoing down the hallway. Kelly wants to deny that doesn't hurt, but it does.

"What's up with Buckley?"

Kelly, with more grace than Buck—though still with a taint of red in his checks-, sits up and turns to the voice. The corner of his lips twitch when he lays eyes on Emily Foster, who's lips are turned up ever so slightly. "Nothing-" The words die in his throat, his pants are unnatural tight. He isn't as warm as before, but there's still a heat in his groins and a desire in his gut. He doesn't dare look down in front of Foster, not when she is looking at him like that: her eyes in sharp points. "Nothing," he squeals, winking at his own cracking voice. He, though no way to hide the motion, reaches the closest pillow and firmly presses it into a lap. "E-everything's good." He barely resists the urge to twitch at his uneven tones.

"Okay," Foster replies, her smile way too large.

Whatever she is thinking, Kelly doesn't want to know. Doesn't need to know. He will just sit here until his little issue goes away. "Yup," he gulps, pressing the pillow down. "All good." Ignoring it is the best for everyone. He totally did not get an erection while touching Buck.


Author note:

1) I moved up Maddie's pregnancy by a few months, because while I am not sure what will happen with Chimney and Maddie, I want Jee- Yun Buckley Han to exist. I love cannon Chimney/Maddie, but in this story, I am not sure if they can work pass their issues. I am up in the air about it.

2) With other POVs, I am not sure who else I may do. Going back and forth on who I want to write. If you have an request, you can let me know. However, i make no promises to write those specific POV. Some of them, I hesitate because I don't want it to seem like there is a switch in their heads and everything is good now.

And Kelly, he never truly gets time alone with Buck.

Again, let me know what you think. I love reviews!