AN: I promised a couple people this would be up by Sunday night but then a family emergency happened and it's been a crazy week. I apologize profusely as I know what it's like to be a reader and want to know what comes next. There's always a wrench in the works with these characters and this chapter is no different. Thank you to all the readers, reviewers, followers and favouriters. It's truly been just great seeing all of your reactions.

Full disclaimer: I do not own the rights to these characters and they are the property of Dick Wolf et al. You all just get to see what I'd do with them if I did.

Enrique Iglesias crooned as Dawson moved in circles around her kitchen counter. Enrique was an occasional guilty pleasure. A secret no one knew but she was twenty four hours into her forty eight hours off and baking cookies to go with the brownies, paella and some rice she'd cooked just because. Cooking was work, yes, but also meditation. The actions were routine and practiced even when she made her meals unpredictable. The quiet early morning demanded some rote action. She hadn't slept much.

She was worried. About Shay who took all the work of Severide's recovery on her small shoulders. About Kelly, his wild self-recriminations concerning the rescue only a night ago. His fault she'd heard him clear as a bell over Shay's phone before the blonde rushed out the doors. Dawson had a difficult time completing paperwork after that. Sandy Mitchell's face swam into view, puffy and still. The tinge of blue to her beautiful brown skin, By some cruel twist of fate her father had survived. His wails echoed down the hospital hallways. They haunted Dawson. When she'd turned to look, he was collapsed at the doctor's feet, still wrapped in a warming blanket. Inconsolable.

Dawson shook the darkest of her thoughts away with the opening strains of Bailamos. The cookies were mint chocolate chip, the brownies dark chocolate. She was going to spend the next thirty minutes waiting while they cooled before she even attempted the car trip to Severide and Shay's place. She was exhausted but also nervous. The last thirty six hours were no picnic. End of shift had been dull with everyone's solemnity. Hermann especially, with his four kids and another on the way, was too choked to speak. Kids were always the worst.

She tried to concentrate on how she was going to approach Severide. Like the feeling she'd had the night of the accident, Dawson had an awful intuition all was less than well with him. She of course was partially to blame. Dawson copped to that. Their mutual silences were rife with a half dozen misunderstandings. She needed to fix some small part. After a job like that, it was imperative to her sanity to fix something. Repair to the human body was by definition and practice, easier to complete than emotional damage but… Dawson sighed and drank her coffee.

It was Sunday. Traffic was lighter than usual as she slowly drove crosstown, muttering curses. Wishing it would take longer. Severide and Shay split the cost of living in a far more hip neighbourhood than she could afford. Closer to the public beaches and downtown. She preferred her little house. Its solitude. She was thinking in circles. She didn't have a plan but she still had keys. Shay would be there to act as a buffer anyway. Right? Shay had requested the brownies! Why was she so nervous? Dawson looked at all the food in her passenger seat. Maybe I went overboard… It didn't matter. She checked the time. Eight thirty a.m. Wait. Was it seriously that early? Shay would kill her for ringing the doorbell. She would use the keys. Yes. That worked. Sneak in while they were both sleeping. Write a cute note. Leave. Perfect.

Like all other decisions she'd made in the last month. This one did not proceed according to plan. Balancing the covered trays on her left hip, Dawson slowly turned the key in the lock and nudged the door open to peek her head around only to stop cold at what she saw.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!" She was crossing the room and dropping the trays on a counter before she even processed the thought. Severide was balanced on his good leg in front of the cabinets on the other counter. He turned his head towards her voice.

"I thought Shay kept candy in here" Dawson braced her hands on both of his hips as she stood behind him, face level with his luscious butt. The man was in a cast on his granite kitchen counter with only one hand holding onto an open cabinet door. The man was a reckless idiot and she was trying to hold her tongue.

"How did you even get up there?" Dawson glanced at the crutches perched next to her while Severide chuckled and kept rummaging through the cabinet. "Okay let's try another question. How were you going to get down?" Slowly, gingerly, she let Severide turn on the counter. He must have an amazingly strong core. She looked up into his eyes. They seemed fever bright. Severide brushed hair out of Dawson's eyes while she tried to calm her anxious pulse. He was still only using one hand to support himself like a jackass.

"So can we talk now or are you going to yell some more?"

"Just climb down asshole!"

Dawson's throat was tight. She was gripping his hips like a vise. Afraid of him falling over and keenly aware they hadn't been this close in a month. His breathing was shallow. Was it his ribs or something else? Dawson didn't want to assume the worst but Severide was playing at being invincible. That led nowhere good.

"Bri…"

"Why are you all sweaty?"

"I was doing sit-ups"

"Of course you were"

The hand brushing hair off her face landed on her right shoulder in a firm grip. Dawson slid her hand from his hip to the small of his back as Severide leaned down to rotate his bad leg off the counter, his free hand planted on the dark granite. With slow unsteady motions, Severide sat down on the counter his knees caging Dawson in on either side of her waist. Unbelievable. Severide leaned in, his hands cupping her cheeks, eyes staring in and Dawson sighed quietly, her hands on his, her mouth just the slightest bit open. She didn't know what to say and she didn't want to let go so when he touched his forehead to hers and breathed her in, any plan she could have had was suddenly unimportant. This was Kelly and she'd missed having him close. Missed the smell of him and the weight of his arms around her shoulders and the bristle of his stubble against her neck when he hugged her like right now with his whole big body. She secretly loved being small with him. Feeling held in his power. He kissed her hair and her neck and burrowed in as close as he could and rumbled her name in his throat.

They stood like that for a long minute. Dawson recognized in herself a need to make him as tangible as possible. She'd barely touched him in a month but he was real and he was home and he was safe. And he would walk and run and fight fires again. She knew this as certainty because she knew exactly how stubborn he was. He pulled back first. Dawson looked into his eyes. His pupils weren't pinpricks but he wasn't entirely sober either. Shit.

"How much did you take?"

"Bri…"

"Don't do that. Don't use that name when I'm asking you if you're high. Not if you want it to matter"

She was still wrapped up in him, hands under his shirt on his back. His breathing was shallow and she didn't think it was all exertion. His face was crumpling inwards. She didn't want that. She wasn't judging him. So she planted a kiss on his lips and held on. Waited for him to realize she was asking because she cared. Because she worried and he didn't ever have to do this part alone. She'd helped before and she would again. Finally Severide shrugged.

"It was a rough night" and Dawson felt her whole body soften with his admission. Yes, it had been a rough couple of nights and she was here.

"That is not an answer but okay. Let's get you settled in on the couch before I put this food away."

"Shay isn't home." Dawson processed that statement quietly as she handed him his crutches. This wasn't exactly how she'd imagined the morning would turn out but it made her more than grateful she'd stopped by. She hovered at Severide's side as he slowly walked over to the couch. The pullout bed was all rumpled sheets and pillows and he sat down with a sigh.

"Since when?"

"She tore through here after shift. Put out my pills. Took a shower. Said she was going out." Dawson sat beside him as he shrugged. "I figured she was blowing off steam because-"

"I heard you on the phone. You don't need to explain"

Dawson watched him swallow and bob his head. "Yeah so. It was a rough night and all" He began to lean back and Dawson passed him a couple pillows to stuff against the couch frame. Propped his injured leg up on a pillow and watched him get as comfortable as possible.

"Next time call me" she offered.

"Can I call you? Really?"

"Yes. You can. I meant it when I sent that text. She left you alone and-"

"I'm not helpless Dawson. I can-"

"Shut the fuck up Sev. This isn't about your bad boy image." she snapped right back. Dawson grabbed a spare pillow and punch fluffed it before scooting closer and shoving it behind Severide's head. He was staring at her incredulously. "What? It's not. You're injured. I don't think that you're weak because you broke a leg and can't reach a cabinet. Don't be fucking dense."

"Sev?"

Dawson blinked as Severide cocked his head. She refused to blush. She refused.

"Not the point. Shay left you here which is fine when you know when she'll be back but not like this. Call me next time. I mean it. Regardless of everything else."

"Can we actually talk about everything else now?"

" Are you going to come clean about the pills?"

Hard though it might be to believe, Dawson wasn't trying to be difficult or mean. Everything about this conversation was just going to be hard. She was trying to be fair to everyone involved and failing. Compromise was not her strong suit. Neither was doing anything halfway. She was in or she was out and the nebulous nature of her connection to Severide at the moment was anathema to her. Was cruel to a man she had respected for his firefighting skills long before she'd ever met him in bed. She watched him struggle to respond to her question and, just this once, gave him an out.

"You came to me for help last time. Just know you can do so anytime. Anytime at all."

Then she told him to relax while she put the food away and offered to make him some breakfast. He was wary at first but when she took off her jacket and her shoes, Severide finally lightened up. Dawson began chatting while she stood in a kitchen for the second time in two hours cooking pancakes and slowly teasing out just how Severide had gotten to the point of dosing himself. It was the long dark hours of night, where a pain pill's dose faded in the middle of his sleep, if he slept at all. He admitted to headaches and insomnia. He was tired and vulnerable and the fatal job last shift had clearly sent him spiralling with anxiety. Even if he would never admit it. Finding Severide on top of the counter was a pretty stark indication that he was pushing too hard, too fast. She asked him to rein it in and he shrugged. Which made her want to throw her hands up in the air and scream.

Dawson handed the plate of pancakes over to him. Then she sat down cross legged across from him and watched him wolf it down. He should have looked disgusting but of course he didn't. Even with chipmunk cheeks full of pancake, Severide was cute to her. She decided to just start talking while he was occupied. She tangled her fingers in her hair.

"The day you fell…. it shook me. I believed, truly believed you would live. It wasn't that I thought you might die. I-" Dawson swallowed against a cough, cleared her throat. "I helped the men carry you. You were still awake and calling out and you reached for me." Dawson closed her eyes and shut up for a second. She tried to gather her scattered thoughts. Tried to remember why giving him up had been so important in the first place.

"I'm not saying this right."

"Bri…"

"No, look… we happened fast in this spontaneous unplanned gorgeous way and I still haven't processed everything with Mills. We didn't break up because he doesn't love me. We broke up because he doesn't trust me."

A quiet fell between them for a moment as Dawson twisted her hair between her fingers and Severide looked at her. "Do you love Mills?" Severide asked, his tone slightly flat and muffled. He swallowed the rest of the pancake. Put his plate on the floor.

"No! No that's not- Kelly i'm not good at this remember? I'm never good enough. Every conscious decision I've made with a man I care about has blown up in my face in epic fashion and I am trying, really trying to learn from my mistakes."

Dawson looked up to find Severide blinking right at her. His face a cross between angry and resigned she never wanted to see again. "Is this you blowing us up Bri? Am I a mistake?" He reached out to her with one hand and Dawson took it between her own. She kissed his still healing knuckles and shook her head fervently.

"You were never a mistake. Idiot what i'm trying to say very badly is my head's a mess and it's messing with you and i don't want that. Not when you've already got so much shit going on." Dawson crawled up the couch bed to sit beside him, to lean into him. "You don't need to be worrying about what's going on with me when you're in the middle of recovery."

Dawson watched Severide stare at their joined hands. Wondered if she should let go, but knew he wouldn't allow it and she didn't want to either just yet. "I have baggage Kelly. That I haven't quite figured out and there you were, two months into whatever this is and reaching for me when you were delirious with pain. You were all in and I don't deserve that"

"You keep saying that shit. I don't deserve. I'm not good enough. What the actual fuck Dawson? Do I look like I give out gold stars or something? Do I look concerned with you being perfect?"

"It doesn't stop me worrying. Doesn't stop me trying to prove myself to Casey and then to Mills. Never mind Shay. Shay! Who loves you like crazy doesn't think much of us. Doesn't that make you anxious?!"

It did but Severide didn't want to say that. He was gazing into Dawson's eyes and seeing her fear and all of her concern and none of it was his fault which had to be the strangest part of this whole ordeal. He wasn't the problem. It was everything else.

"Shay doesn't trust me now and that sucks and I need that back and I know you do too."

"So we just cut this off. Right now?"

A dull throb began between his temples. He wanted to yell at her but couldn't. She was saying it's not you it's me with a healthy dose of what amounted to think of the children as Shay and Casey and Mills flitted through his mind. He'd known Dawson was giving. He'd always known she was generous and open with the people she allowed to get close. He just hadn't realized how far she was willing to go to punish herself for those same people. He traced his index finger down the back of their joined hands. He heard her sniff but couldn't look at her just then.

"Shay got to you too. Don't pretend you stopped texting me because you wanted to"

She had him there. That was the thing with Dawson. She never let you off the hook because, and this suddenly occurred to Severide with blinding ferocity, Dawson felt like she was always on the hook. Was always waiting to be scolded and castigated for something she did when she wasn't thinking. It was why she lashed out. She figured she was always in trouble and already wrong. Dawson reached for something and got her hand slapped so she stopped reaching. It's why she was always waiting for someone like Casey to finally see her. Whether it was Casey or Mills or Shay they proved she was good enough just by giving her their affection. How did you fight that kind of belief? Especially when it seemed to mirror your own?

Severide untangled his hand from Dawson's to wrap his arm around her shoulder and drag her into his embrace. He kissed her hair. Buried his nose in it and thought really hard about how to respond. She seemed content to wait. Which bugged him. Dawson not demanding he be upfront was the worst way of knowing this wasn't right. It didn't feel right. Dawson was finally in his apartment with him and instead of yelling at him about the pills and to take care of his leg better, she was being quiet and pleasant. She was trying to say goodbye. He pulled her closer. Dawson gently wrapped one arm around his waist and scooted her legs into his side. Still waiting. Still silent. She wanted him to admit that she was right. To respond and tell her the truth of why he'd stopped texting just like she'd put distance between their bodies a month before.

"Bri… baby" he kissed her hair again. They both knew he needed Shay. He was only a month from a fall that could have killed him. A month into recovering from a broken leg. He had physical therapy appointments and doctor appointments and all sorts of things to work out and Shay was his champion. Had always been his champion and she was hedging. She was awol and he was alone and that wasn't something Shay did when he was in trouble. They were stressing her out and that wasn't helpful.

"I won't disappear on you. I'll still be around."

Dawson was pleading. Jesus this sucks. She leaned her head up from its spot on his shoulder and gave him her wide teary-eyed gaze. It was resolute. "And I'm not saying never Kelly. It just can't be now. You need her and I need time". He figured that whatever had happened with Mills must have really hurt her. He wanted to prod at that wound. Wanted to know what the fuck Mills said so he could deck the guy. And he liked Mills. A lot. He'd make a great addition to Squad one day. But somewhere between Casey's constant pausing and Mills earnest rejection, Dawson had gotten bruised so badly she thought she was worthless. What in the actual fuck. He stared her down. She was trembling just like that conversation not so long ago in her bed only this time he couldn't make her warm when he felt so cold himself.

"Do you mean that? Will you give this a shot when I'm better?" Like I needed anything more to motivate me. Severide thought grimly. Dawson's hand gripped tightly into his tee shirt.

"Yes. Kelly, i've missed you. Not talking to you. Not seeing you. But Shay-"

"Forget about Shay for one minute." he kissed her because this, them, it wasn't about Shay and it shouldn't be. Her anxiety was understandable but her solution left him wanting. And Dawson kissed him back with all she had, stretching the cotton of his shirt as she pulled and he pulled her into him. He'd never expected this. Never expected her and how this felt and to know she was giving it up… "I'm gonna hold you to this promise." Fuck not pushing. Fuck everyone who thought they knew better than him what was good for him. He looked down into Dawson's dazed face. Her eyes no longer teary, pupils dilated, lips swollen.

"I want you to," she whispered and he was leaning down, pulling her shirt up, unbuttoning her jeans. Making her gasp. She wouldn't forget him. He wouldn't let her. Maybe Shay would come around if he went slow, asked Dawson out for coffee. Something. This was all about proof. All he knew was he wasn't leaving her alone for three months with two guys who'd already hurt her. Not by a long shot. He sucked a hickey onto the skin below her navel while Dawson cried out. She was going to leave him well fucked and marked.

Thanks for reading!