AN: Thank you again to the people who wrote reviews, and favourited and followed Of Good Intentions. I appreciate you taking the time to do so! This and the following four or five chapters focus on the love triangle with Dawson, Casey and Severide as Dawson interacts with each man that makes her feel insecure in turn. She's making some snap decisions and trying to figure things out. And we all know how that goes with Dawson sometimes.

As a reminder, I do not own the rights to any of the Chicago Fire characters much though I wish I did. Initial fallout from Shay and Severide's conversation below...

Dawson smacked the wall with a glob of paint, aware that Otis and Hermann were concerned and didn't care one bit what they were thinking. He'd stopped texting. It was stupid and irrational but that one little avenue of communication let her know that Severide was okay. Okay with her specifically and now he'd gone silent with no explanation and she could not, would not be mad because she did the same thing to him. When did they devolve into three year olds? When did she become so much worse than the sad, pining girl who only wanted Casey who had Hallie who'd run away to Africa when she was with Mills. Mills, who'd destroyed her for truths that weren't hers to share which lead to Severide and his wicked tongue…

To Kelly, who'd been cajoling her to make more brownies because Shay had hoarded them to herself. Who loved his soft slippers but couldn't wear them just yet. He'd declared her enchiladas far superior to the ones at his hole in the wall. Something she already knew, but his praise was what she had needed when Tara almost killed a guy while tubing him. Then cried. He wasn't pushing. He never asked her what happened. Severide just peeked in at the corners of her shifts. Letting her know in his own way that he was thinking about her and thanking her for not subjecting him to Shay's cooking and hey, maybe one day come over when i'm actually here?

That was the last text. She hadn't responded to it. And then the silence had dragged on so long that she couldn't respond without it being a thing. And they were officially not a thing but he'd usually just pick up another conversational thread and she'd go with it. Telling him about the bar, asking after his tibia. Yelling in all caps not to put any of his considerable weight on it if he wanted to walk straight ever again. She didn't tell Shay. She wasn't flirting. They were beyond all that anyway. But she missed seeing the side of him that he' d only ever shown to Shay and her glimpses of it were cherished. Kelly was smart behind his pretty eyes and strong build. He pretended to be more an idiot than he was and gave his equivalent of an aw shucks face which charmed weaker women and, to be honest, sometimes her. She still wanted to know why he did it. His intelligence was damn hot. The wall got another slap of paint.

"Hey"

Dawson turned around to see Casey with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. He was fresh from a construction gig. She could tell. There was sawdust in his hair and he looked all-American in his white tee shirt and unbuttoned plaid. He looked perfect and she was lacquered in turpentine, paint and sweat. Wonderful. Just great.

"Hey Casey. What's up?" she responded casually, even as Otis and Hermann pressed forward asking for his help. Dawson was by necessity cautious in her interactions with Casey. His contempt for her the last several weeks had been awful to bear for many reasons, not least of which was the groundswell of insecurity it produced in the wake of their fight. If he couldn't understand, truly could not fathom why she had met with Voight, they were at a bit of an impasse. Yes, she acted without thinking. She could admit that. Her brother had just been shot and she was trying to help. To feel like she was doing something in the aftermath of uncertainty and sheer terror. The fact that he could not see her point of view, could not see how her choice was less about denying the damage Voight had done to him and Hallie and more to do with her brother, her blood and all of it leaking out of him for a case he couldn't shake. If he didn't get that. He was never meeting her extended family.

Plus what did it say about their friendship that he assumed she should take his issues with a person into account over her own family? That was a tad more personal than he had any right to demand. No matter that she had wanted more from him for years.

"I heard you need a new door?"

"Yes….?" Dawson glanced behind her at Hermann. She hadn't cleared the door idea with him. She didn't want his bad taste all over it. But she also wondered what the catch was with Casey. She hadn't mentioned the door search to him because Dawson was trying to better. She really was. Between being civil to Casey and pleasant with Mills those shifts in the ambulance, her life was almost good. Back to the sort of everyday normal angst that made Shay roll her eyes and groan in frustration at her antics. You know, except for the whole sleeping with her best friend and roommate multiple times and missing him to the tune of checking her phone multiple times an hour.

Casey smiled at Dawson's attempt at wide eyed confusion. She was intense and funny but Gabi had the worst poker face of anyone he knew. She wasn't fooling Hermann one bit. And Otis didn't help with his smirking.

"There's a salvage yard I use for restoration jobs. We could check it out."

"Now?" her voice sounded strangled. It made Casey frown. They were still off. Her lack of enthusiasm for his offer hurt. He shrugged a little.

"I could take measurements of your doorway at least. That way if I see something that works…"

"You're not much good at painting Gabi" Hermann snorted. Everyone turned to the Pollack speckled attempt at a wall that was Dawson's vented anger. "Go. Find the perfect door or whatever".

Casey watched Gabi's face closely. Her eyes slid to him then down to her clothes. Maybe that's why she's reluctant? He reached up to shake sawdust from his scalp where it itched. He saw how her face softened.

"Sure, just let me clean up" she glanced at her phone with a sigh and Casey watched her head to the back.

"Hey Casey. Don't let her get anything too girly."

"I'm not sure how a door could be but sure Hermann" Casey deadpanned his gaze still focused on the back of the bar.

"And nothing too expensive"

"Salvage yard Hermann" but Casey smiled. Hermann's anxiety was natural given all the schemes he had tried to make money for his family. The bar was a good solid idea but it came with so many strings it was no wonder the man was worried.

Dawson walked out of the back just then and Casey was relieved. He wanted to spend time with her and repair what was strained between them. He figured the door was the perfect gesture. He'd overheard her wheedling with Otis about it at the firehouse last shift and how much Otis protested the cost of what was essentially a thing to lock and open to customers. He also heard the sweet sentimentality under Dawson's mild manipulation of her business partner. Her family was everything to her. That she wanted to put some of that love and loyalty into the bar was typical of her earnest need to make everything perfect when it was personal. Casey really admired that about her. He gestured to the doorway and followed her out with his tape measure ready to take down numbers.

The ride over in his truck was awkward and quiet . Dawson sat still and nervous at the same time, thumbing the screen of her phone on and off. Casey wasn't sure exactly what to say. Words weren't his thing. Hence the door. But he remembered how he'd try to talk things through with Hallie. She favoured a clinical approach. Measured and contemplative when arguments occurred. Nothing like the blowouts he had with Dawson.

He pulled into a spot outside the salvage yard and yanked up on the parking brake. Casey paused for a moment before he looked directly across at his best friend.

"I'm sorry" he said. It seemed easiest. Simplest. And it was true. He was sorry for the distance that had grown cold between them. It felt alien and uncomfortable now that his indignation was gone. To his dismay, Dawson didn't give him an inch.

"What for?" Her careful tone upset Casey. He was aware in that moment that Dawson didn't trust him. Yet he was unaware of how close she was to losing it on him. He watched Dawson blink at him, her fingers curled around the door handle to jump out.

Dawson was irritated with his directness because it didn't say anything. Okay, Casey was sorry. But for which part? Showing too much emotion never got her anywhere with him so she cautiously attempted to reel in her irritation. She was sweaty and felt wholly unattractive and he was sorry and they were picking a door which was lovely and domestic when she was trying to be good dammit.

"For everything," and Dawson nearly rolled her eyes she was so close to fuming. She bit her bottom lip to keep from snapping back Really Casey? She was tired of giving him so much latitude with her feelings. Of her own stupidity. It would never be the right time for them. He would continue to put up roadblock after roadblock and Dawson was too worn down and glum about so many other things to put up with it.

"You hurt me" she said lowly and calmly. "You punished me for helping my family. For helping Antonio who has only ever helped you" she reminded him. Her hands were shaking and she gripped her phone tighter.

"I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't speak to me for weeks! You treated me like a stranger! Like I didn't even deserve your time!"

"You went to Voight Gabi! Voight! A man who tried to blackmail me! Who threatened Hallie!"

"And you treated me like I was scum! Like I was him! And now you think we'll just be okay because you said sorry?!"

"What do you want from me Gabi?"

By then they were both screaming. The truck cab echoed and people outside were peering at them and Gabi was so far into a red haze she almost said You! All I've ever wanted was you! But they both already knew that. She felt betrayed by his coldness in a moment of deep crisis. He thought she was foolish and wrong for even attempting what she did. But she would do it all over again in a heartbeat for her brother. She knew that without question. She would do the same for anyone she loved.

The world was not black and white. She could see his point of view. She really could but he didn't even seem to want to try and know hers. He wanted to blanket an apology over all those weeks of silence and cold cruelty and fix things like it was plywood and nails and she couldn't let him. Not this time. She looked at his beautiful face. His sweet beautiful face, eyes currently brilliant with fury and let out an angry huff. She finally realized that she deserved better. That she deserved more than three words strung aimlessly together from a man who claimed to be her good friend. Dawson shook her head and opened the door and hopped out of his truck without preamble.

"Go home Casey. I'll find my own damn door."

She turned her back and looked across at the salvage yard waiting for Casey to leave because she knew he would. Pursuit was not something he ever did with her. She heard the engine of his truck turn over and the peel squeak of the tires as he sped out of the parking lot. Dawson's mouth twisted bitterly. She looked down at her phone and typed:

no matter what happens you have me