Happy Easter, y'all (if you celebrate that sort of thing)! Here's an extra long update for the best readers and reviewers on FF. I don't always PM (I'm bad) but I really do appreciate all the traffic. Thanks to everyone for reading and giving me some !
Kelly kept going, doing everything Dr. Stinson instructed… rehab, rest, and wearing that neck brace. Each appointment with no bad news but offered no good either. He was in a holding pattern with no where to go. 51 didn't need him. He'd stopped dropping by, feeling like a visitor. A visitor in his own house. The house that was his only home for so many year. Now, they'd moved on without him.
Erin. J.P. Now, Kayla. That was why he kept on keeping on. The thoughts of an arson investigation job slipped in once in a while during his darkest hours. Teaching at the academy was always on the table. He'd enjoyed the short stint he was strong armed into doing. But did it evoke a passion? No, it was the bringing a fiery beast to its knees, the rushing out of an inferno with a kid in your hands that made him want to go to work, had been his purpose in life for all those years. How he longed for the action, the excitement, ached for it in a way that told him there would be no switching of careers. He was a fireman through and through.
The weeks whipped by with Severide in limbo and then without warning, he would almost say overnight if months of hard work wouldn't disagree, he was getting better. It started with not hurting all the time. When he woke up one morning, stretching out his arms before rolling over to get out of bed, Kelly didn't have the hot creep of pain inching from his neck down the length of his spine. Some mornings it reached its grip to his sciatic and wouldn't let go, other days it crept down to the middle of his back, tensing the surrounding muscles as if they wanted to attack. On this particular morning, he was stiff but that hurt was missing.
Kelly was clattering pans around, making breakfast when the kids walked groggily into the kitchen, the smells of bacon and sausage too tempting to ignore for a few more minutes of sleep.
"Who wants pancakes? Or do we wanna go with waffles?" he asked, a sly grin pasted on his face, knowing the argument about to ensue.
Sure enough, J.P. extolled the virtues of waffles. "You can put syrup in every square, right dad?" he asked always looking for approval.
Before Kelly could agree, Kayla was talking about pancakes like they might change the world. Severide had to admit, the girl had a way with words. She almost had him convinced when Erin strolled in from a shower, wet hair up in a towel.
"We're having pancakes?" she asked huskily, her voice still waking up.
Kelly rushed over kissing her on the neck, J.P. flushing and looking away quickly.
"Yes, we're havin' pancakes," he answered, noting the crestfallen look on his son's face. "But we're also havin' waffles cause us men need to stick together." He winked at J.P. who was suddenly at his elbow, offering up a quick hug.
"Welcome back, hero," Erin whispered in his ear, both arms around his waist, returning the kiss on his neck. J.P. hurriedly excusing himself to his room wanting to slip on jeans, and murmuring something about having to pee. Erin knew this was a crossing of the threshold, something in her man's eyes said the worst was behind them. She turned him around, looking into those blue eyes she'd come to love and rely on and planted a huge kiss on his mouth. Kelly ran his hand, still holding a spatula, down the length of her back.
Kayla had her elbows on the table, face resting in her hands, watching the couple, smiling.
The Severides frequented their kids' school, all the teachers and nuns at St. Elizabeths knowing the couple well. There'd been parent conferences about their "unique" situation, the usual drop off and pick up of kids, but Kelly and Erin had never been involved with the PTA or anything where they rubbed elbows with the other parents. Tonight was their coming out party.
It was a PTA potluck and planning session for the big spring carnival that the whole surrounding neighborhoods looked forward to each year. It was their main fundraiser for the following year, the one that would pay for field trips, uniforms for those who couldn't afford it, and half the proceeds going back to the church.
Erin had slipped out of her black pants opting for a flowery dress instead, one Kelly'd never seen. He whistled low and long.
"Mmm, you sure we gotta go?" he asked running his hands along her hips.
"Down boy. Yes, we 'gotta go' babe. You think this is okay?" she asked looking at herself doubtfully. She couldn't shake the whole feeling like she was playing a role, pretend mom, instant mother figure. "Who am I kidding?" she said aloud not meaning to.
"What?" Kelly asked, keeping his hands to himself, knowing she was wrestling with some shadows.
"I borrowed this from Holly, and, I just don't know," she said bringing the dress over her head to take it off. "It doesn't read soccer mom?"
Her husband pushed it back over her head. "It reads hot mom. It's perfect. You're perfect. I know you're nervous, but we got this. We'll be fine," he assured, grabbing her hand and leading her out to the anxious pair waiting in the living room.
J.P. caught sight of his mom in that dress and a huge grin spread across his face, looking like he just won the pennant. That was all the reassurance Erin needed. That boy could fill any doubts she had about herself with one hug, one look, one smile.
As the Severides walked into the cafeteria, several teachers came forward to greet them warmly. Mr. Donnelly bragging about his little helper, J.P. How "well adjusted" he is, polite, really a model student. Kelly beamed as if he had something to do with it. Erin smiled but there was a sadness beneath the surface, aware it was the little boy's defense mechanism… he'd probably been so afraid of doing anything wrong, the repercussions, that he just made himself perfect.
Kelly swung an arm around Erin possessively when he noticed Mr. Donnelly's gaze getting swept up in those hazel eyes and prominent dimples. Couldn't blame the guy, but Kelly went a little caveman, marking his territory with an arm and a pointed look.
Sister Anne Rechtein was next in line, gushing about the "artiste extraordinaire" she had unleashed in Kayla. She didn't look like any nun Kelly had seen, wearing jeans and some old Earth Day T-shirt. She didn't sound like any nun either.
"That girl of yours is amazing, the depth of feeling, the figurative language. She paints a picture like no other eleven-year-old I've ever taught. Ever!"
Kelly made a note to ask Kayla what kind of language she was using in her writing class. They nodded politely, pretending that they were privy to the young girl's journal and sketch pad. What she had shared had been a couple of pages only, and that was some artwork, nothing with words. More teachers came forward with the Severides feeling like they were at a receiving line at a wedding, or perhaps more accurately, at a funeral. Compliments were rushing out, celebrating the talents of the children. There were a few prodding questions, brushed off by a fireman.
The women were mainly on one side of the cafeteria, chatting enthusiastically, the ones firmly in charge of this thing. The carnival was a well oiled machine thanks to the moms at the school. The dads were on the other side talking about anything but the fundraiser.
It was time to split up, but Erin didn't let go of her husband's hand. The questions about the kids, how they came to get them… Kelly was so much better at fielding inquiries with his easy, no-nonsense way. She knew she got tongue tied, often trying to justify that the state had actually trusted her with them, still not believing it herself.
The fireman gave her a confident smile, squeezing her hand as they approached the women. All the gazes stopped abruptly on Kelly. He had their rapt attention …"Is this the ladies only side of the room or can a guy butt in?" he asked that devilish grin on his face.
One woman stepped forward, the pecking order had been established years ago, and now her lingering eyes rested on Severide.
"You may butt in any time you want. I'm Emily. And you are?" the raven haired mom asked, extending a well-manicured hand, her gaze not moving from the fireman.
"Kelly Severide. This is my wife, Erin, and our kids are J.P. and Kayla," he offered pointing to the pair who were with a group of others decorating cookies, J.P. eating more than he frosted, but Kayla working on one like it was the next Mona Lisa.
Every time Kelly spoke the women felt a flutter in their stomachs and giggles broke free from their mouths. Erin couldn't believe that grown women were acting like this. She was amazed at how they seemed to not even notice she was by his side.
Kelly tilted his head listening intently, the boyish look in his eyes contradicting the gray specks throughout his hair. Erin knew what effect he had on the opposite sex, getting a first hand look right now. It had been a while with him hermit-like in their apartment except for the baseball practices and games.
Emily, the overeager mom with the silky black locks and porcelain skin, touched his arm repeatedly, forcing Erin to go to the other side, locking his other arm tightly. Kelly would say something funny and aggressive mom would laugh tossing back that hair and as she swung it forward, her hand would brush over his arm lightly.
"Babe, you holding my arm or tryin' to break it?" Kelly asked Erin, wrenching his limb loose.
"Yes, sometimes I feel like this thing," Emily said pointing to her wedding ring, "is so tight it's cutting off my circulation." She laughed way too loudly as Kelly looked at his wife realizing for the first time she was not having as much fun as he was.
Erin's heart was hammering, but she kept her face neutral, a small dismissive smile peeking from her mouth. The women felt as if his blue eyes were cutting right through them, but Kelly felt the burn of some hazel ones. Erin held her tongue knowing he would pay for the whole thing later. Kelly knew he would too, and he couldn't wait.
"That was fun," Kelly breathed out, crawling up from the bottom of the bed, head peeking from the sheets.
"Mmmm," Erin managed, still out of breath.
"Mama's happy?" he asked, smiling broadly his face in front of hers now.
"Mmmm," she said again. "You are still not forgiven," she teased, cracking her eyes open a bit to take in his puppy dog look.
"Babe, I'm innocent. That evil woman was all over me…" he started, cutting himself off by ducking back under the sheets, kissing Erin's stomach softly.
"You loved it," Erin protested, her words turning into a moan as he moved lower.
"But you forgive me, right?" Kelly stopped abruptly, fingers and mouth at a stand still.
"Yes, yes, Kelly, please," Erin whispered, his torture methods doing the trick.
Her husband's mouth was back on her, but he stopped again. "You sure?"
"Oh, God, don't be an asshole," Erin said louder, back arching in anticipation.
"Language, babe," he reprimanded before shutting up for good.
A smug grin was pasted across Kelly's face as he dressed himself easily, trekking off to the Clarke's to see what kind of progress was being made on the pit, the money pit as he like to tease his friends. In truth he could see the appeal. The place was huge, or at least comparing it to the Severide apartment, and it held a definite charm.
"And why do you look so chipper?" Erin asked coming up behind her man, smelling his freshly scrubbed body, touching his slightly damp hair.
"I don't know," he answered in mock innocence, both knowing why the smiles. After months of barely being able to walk around, Kelly's mobility was back and he'd made it the most of it. The couple reconnecting. Every chance they got.
"So Shay's picking up J.P. for a picnic with Holly, and Kayla's mine for the day. We've got hair appointments at noon, so fingers crossed I can convince her to do something with those bangs that she likes to hide her face with. She's such a pretty girl…" Erin muttered, understanding the girl's desire to disappear, fade into the woodwork. Really it had been survival all those years. Now, Erin was hoping to get her to realize she didn't need it.
"And you, my husband, are not to pick up a hammer or do any manual labor. Got it? You have Stinson on Tuesday," Erin commanded, taking his face in her hands.
Kelly's dopey expression of feigned innocence evaporated into a cocky grin. "Stinson's gonna have some good news."
Erin shifted a little nervously, "Yes. He has to." She didn't think they could take anything less.
A loud knock on their bedroom door said Kayla was behind it. J.P. never disturbed the couple, but Kayla would when it was an eleven-year-old deemed emergency.
"J.P. was looking in my sketchbook again!" she complained as Kelly opened the door.
"I'll talk to him," Kelly said, heading to their bedroom.
"No, it's okay. He closed it when I caught him," Kayla stopped him, rethinking the tattling. She knew how devastated J.P. got when he thought the fireman was even slightly disappointed in him.
"You ready?" Erin asked putting on some small gold stud earrings. She kissed Kelly on the cheek as Kayla waited behind for a hug, as if it were the most natural thing ever. Thoughts of running away gone, thoughts of a lost mom who couldn't get past her demons to take care of two kids fading away like the watercolor pictures in the front of the young girl's sketchbook. When J.P. asked his sister every couple of nights if she was happy, if they were stayin' with "mom and dad" she answered "of course, dork" as if he was crazy for thinking otherwise, as if her escape plans of just a few short months ago were a figment of his imagination.
The hair salon was one that Erin had been going to for years, a Valentina referral… "Not too expensive, but those bitches can cut hair," her designer friend professed when Erin showed up for lunch with a butcher job on her locks. After saying she should sue, only making her more self conscious of the sad state of her hair, he convinced her to call them. They hadn't done her wrong. She was hoping they would persuade Kayla to let her face come out from behind a mass of black hair she wore like armor.
Kayla had never gotten her hair professionally cut, her mom doing it every few months, usually on a high that left the little girl's hair looking like it had gone through a woodchipper. Kayla hadn't minded, somehow knowing in that little girl brain that the worse she looked, the better that was with the neverending parade of men to travel through their doors.
Erin squeezed her hand tightly, "This is going to be fun. Trust me" She saw the fear and was taken back to her own childhood, eerily similar. She'd never forget getting a pedicure with Camille Voight, thinking she'd died and gone to heaven at age 15. It was a cherished memory, one she thought would never be topped, but a certain fireman and two kids were proving her wrong.
Kayla smiled weakly, not used to all the attention being lavished on her, draped in a cape and handed a Coke, it was a whole new world. They were led back to the wash room and plopped down at adjoining sinks. The little girl scooted back so her head was leaning entirely in the sink, closing her eyes in preparation for whatever was to come. The warm water cascaded down and Kayla realized this was no torture chamber, just the opposite. When Sierra's fingers went to work, the little girl relaxed entirely, the smells of ginger and lemon bringing new images to draw. She didn't want the shampoo to end, but after some long minutes of scrubbing and head massages it did.
"You like that?" asked Erin as the two were led back to the stylist stations. Kayla nodded enthusiastically, her hair wrapped up tightly in a towel, her face finally on display. Erin laughed hoarsely, kissing the top of the towel.
The little girl smiled brightly as Sierra pumped the chair, rising it up and up.
"So, what are we doing today, gorgeous?" the stylist asked, combing through the long, thick mane.
Kayla shrugged her shoulders looking at Erin for an answer.
"Whatever she wants," the brunette answered, "she's the artist in the family with the good eye." She so wanted to say to get that crap out of her face, but she resisted knowing how she felt when other's, even a loving husband, tried to dictate anything in her life. She knew the girl had so little control of her situation, this was one area she should have a say in.
"Well," Sierra began, combing the front section over to the side. "With your oval face shape, some light bangs will look nice. I think you should grow this part out," she added grabbing the offending face covering part. "Then we'll trim it all up and you'll have hair pretty enough to match your face."
Kayla shook her head enthusiastically, looking at Erin to approve. "Go for it. Whatever you think."
Erin was done before Kayla, remaining in the chair, oohing and aahing about the transformation. "I think I would shoot someone to have that hair, girl," she teased, smiling at the huge smile in the mirror. "Maybe just a bad guy, in the kneecaps."
The girl giggled loudly touching her hair, marveling at how silky it felt freshly blow dried. Sierra disappeared to the back saying she had a little surprise leaving Erin alone with her new insta-daughter.
"You like it?" Erin asked already knowing the answer.
Kayla stopped looking at herself to turn toward Erin. "I love it. This is the best day ever, Miss Erin, uh, mom," she said awkwardly hopping out of the chair to wrap her arms around the woman.
"Yes, best day ever," Erin said kissing her on the head.
Lunch was the next stop, Erin taking Kayla to Joe's, her special Kelly place where so many of those good memories had been born. They brought J.P. once, charming all the waitresses with his easy smile and compliments about the "best food I ever aten." It was time for a Kayla introduction.
The little girl loved it, loved Jeanine, loved everything about the day. She was chatting it up with the waitress even offering to sketch her, sketchbook situated on the table. She'd left her "purse" in the car saying she really only needed the book, Erin not believing the metamorphosis. Not just Kayla's hair, but it was as if the girl was coming out of her cocoon, and Erin was loving the butterfly before her.
After stuffing themselves with the lasagne lunch special they headed back home, a tiramisu for the boys to split, finding Kelly on the couch nursing a beer, J.P. next to him with a Gatorade.
J.P. mimicked the catcall whistle he heard Kelly give Erin when she was all dressed up or looking special in some way. Sometimes just for the heck of it.
Kelly almost spit out his beer, snorting with laughter. "Oh hell no," Severide called out getting up from the couch. "You two look way too good to be goin' out in public." He turned to the little boy, "You think I should get a shotgun now or wait until your sis is in high school?"
"That's what your face looks like?" he asked Kayla, bending over to give her a hug. No awkwardness in the return, she held on for longer than she ever had before. She adjusted her expensive new barrette, a gift from Valentina passed on by Sierra, as she let Kelly see her face.
"Yep, this is it," she answered looking into those fireman eyes.
"Well, it's about the prettiest face I've ever seen," Kelly told Kayla, winking into her dark brown eyes.
"Except for mom's," J.P. added smiling at Erin.
"Thanks a lot," Kayla said, shooting him a look.
"I'm stickin' by my words," Kelly reassured winking again before giving his wife a lingering kiss on the lips.
"I agree, hero," Erin said, dimples running so deep. Kelly noting her flawless beauty made more intense with the glow of happiness. A happiness written all over her face.
The Dr. Stinson appointment brought the news Kelly had promised his wife, the news he needed, they all needed. A return to work was coming, his recovery finally turning a corner. The doctor's normally stoic demeanor was almost animated as he had his I told you so moment, reminding Kelly that he was right. All the rehab was paying off, the pain finally diminished and left, every physical movement just became easier.
Kelly hit his last month of rehab like a man on fire. He could feel his return, could taste it. He chased it with such force, Erin was afraid he'd hurt himself. But he always pushed himself to his limit, not going a millimeter beyond.
He tried to keep his return day low key, like any other day, but nobody was having that. Shay'd even decorated 51 with the help of an overeager Brett.
Erin and the kids insisted on dropping him off.
"I don't wanna make this a bigger deal than it is," Kelly tried, adjusting his belt, his pants now a little too big. But that uniform felt so good, like his own comfort food, like he was getting back in his own skin.
"This is a big deal. You're back," Erin said, pushing down tears. He'd fought so hard, they all had.
Kelly gathered them all up for a group Severide hug before they headed out.
"I wanna stay at 51 all day, dad," J.P. whined, so excited he could barely keep both feet on the ground.
"You got this, K," Kayla added, one of those fancy barrettes holding back her hair.
There was no pushing down the welling pools in Erin's eyes now. She thought back to the first day she saw her husband, at 51 having just laid Vince Keeler out, the thug thrown to the curb on his ass. She'd warned him to watch out, be careful, but there was something so intriguing about those eyes, the defiant stubbornness, but also the sweetness as he told her his name, "I'm Kelly, Kelly Severide."
Kelly Severide was going back to work.
So, no drama, just sweetness. Hope you like it!