A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates, but writer's block is a bitch to get past sometimes. That's why this chapter is so short, but I'll make it up to you guys in the coming chapters.

July 2014

Matt had been back at work for three shifts, and Gabby was having a hard time dealing with everything. Those few shifts had been rough on everyone, but some of the calls she'd had put her in the ground emotionally. She'd lost a kid, had a grandma have a stroke at her grand-daughter's wedding, a successful suicide of a teenager. Most of the runs they'd had were extremely emotionally draining, and she was on the brink of losing it.

Not to mention the fact that she and Matt hadn't been the same since the accident and since she'd been talking to Clarke. Was he jealous that she could go back? Or was he jealous of Clarke? Or was the guilt playing with him? She knew he blamed himself for it, but she still couldn't get to the bottom of why he was acting differently towards her.

At work, it was somewhat normal. She would be in the common room with everyone, and Matt would be in his quarters. Sometimes she would go sit on his bed and read, but most of the time there was distance between them. At home, they never talked. They'd just moved into their new apartment, after a lot of negotiating to get it since they had to put the move on hold from the accident. And the new apartment gave them their own space. They had the bedroom and two offices, and Matt had been sleeping on the pull-out couch he kept in his.

It wasn't until a week had passed and they'd only said a handful of words to each other that she decided enough was enough. She couldn't take the silence or the distance, she couldn't keep feeling like her world was falling apart again and again just as it started getting better.

"What's going on with us?" she asked Matt before he had the time to walk into his office. "What did that day change that has made us so cold and distant to one another?" He looked at her, at his feet, and back up, shaking his head.

"It wasn't that day, Gabby. It was everything that happened after it," he replied, leaning on the door rather than having his hand on the handle. "It was me feeling guilty, it was you being distant. When we needed each other, we weren't there. Now it feels like we won't be." She nodded, understanding.

"When I went back to work, it was tough because everybody was still gone and there was pretty much a new crew. I was struggling with PTSD," she finally confessed for the first time to him. "And the acting lieutenant on 81 was a vet also, had lost his leg from an IED. I was able to turn to him because it felt like I couldn't turn to you. I wanted to, but you were getting better and you had enough on your conscience. I was trying to protect you." She sat on the couch, looking up at him.

"Protect me? I needed to, Gabby. I needed someone, and you weren't there. And I wasn't there for you, but you at least had someone to turn to. Thank God for that," he said with sarcasm. She sighed before walking into the bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She knew relationships were hard, but would her getting better actually tear theirs apart?