Her first night in Portland, Sylvie takes Kelly's advice.
She talks to Matt.
Once they're alone in his bedroom, after Ben and Griffin conveniently have plans that will keep them out of the house for the night, and she and Matt have had a chance to reacquaint themselves, Sylvie unleashes all of her pent up emotions.
She doesn't hold anything back. She tells him everything, lays out her insecurities and frustrations regarding the missed calls, and canceled dates, and postponed visits, how it makes her feel like their relationship is an afterthought to him.
And Matt, to his credit, listens patiently. He doesn't interrupt her once as the words, and yes, quite a few tears spill out of her.
Sylvie watches him closely, searches his face for a hint of his reaction. But his expression remains blank, processing everything she said, and for several taut seconds, she wonders if she has just ruined everything.
"God, Sylvie." He cups her face with his hands, wipes a lingering tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I'm so sorry." His voice carries the weight of his regret as he continues, "I never meant to make you feel that way, you have to know that. I've been so distracted trying to balance everything with Ben and Griffin and work and getting to know my guys that I..." His voice wavers. "I didn't think about how it might be affecting you. I took for granted that you would always be there."
Matt reaches for her, pulls her into his side then, and she buries her head against his chest. As she listens to the rhythmic sound of his heart beating against her ear, she feels the tension leave her body. His arms wrap around her tightly, and he presses his lips into her hair and promises to make more of an effort to stay connected, to make her a priority.
They spend the rest of the night like that, in Matt's bed, tangled in each other's embrace. And as they talk and make plans for their future together, the weight that has been on her chest for weeks now, feels a little lighter.
The remainder of Sylvie's time in Portland is nothing short of perfect. They don't get a chance to check off all the touristy things on her list. But that doesn't matter all that much to her now.
Instead, on the day Matt is on shift, she spends the day with Ben and Griffin. They give her a tour of the city—their way. (The right way, according to the teenagers.) They take her to all the spots they deem important and are not to be missed.
And while comic books and video games are not things she would expect to make a top ten list of things to see in the city, she has fun with them.
She loves getting to know Ben and Griffin better. She can see why Matt is so proud of them. They are smart, funny, and kind-hearted young men. Matt's influence flows in abundance.
And when she leaves Portland—for the first time since Matt left Chicago—Sylvie feels like they are finally on the same page in their relationship again.
... ... ...
The downfall of Kelly and Stella's relationship is quick.
One minute, they are fine and seem to be handling the long-distance well—much better than Matt and Sylvie—and the next, Kelly is returning from a trip to spend New Years in Boston with Stella's engagement ring in his pocket.
But Sylvie is ignorant of that fact as she starts her days. She checks the flight status on her phone for what feels like the hundredth time.
And, no, she does not think she is being hyperbolic in her estimation.
The flight status hasn't changed since the last time she checked it. Or the first.
Kelly's flight from Boston is still scheduled to arrive on time.
Usually, she wouldn't be this fixated on checking his flight time. Once or twice closer to when his flight is scheduled to land is normal for her. She doesn't like to leave him waiting too long. But it's important she's there right on time today.
They've developed a bit of a routine, see, to make these short, frequent trips across the country a little more bearable.
It started with her first trip to Portland. Kelly offered to take her to the airport—and there was no way she would turn down a free ride to O'Hare. Kelly was waiting for her the moment her plane landed. So, she returned the favor for him during his first trip to Boston to visit Stella.
And now it's just the way they do things. It's not like they plan their trips around each other, but when it works out that way, it's always nice to not have to worry about a ride home after their flight.
She thinks that is why she's excessively checking Kelly's flight. Their trips overlapped this time—she arrived home from Christmas in Portland at O'Hare just as Kelly was departing for New Years in Boston at Midway.
She hasn't spoken to Kelly since she left for Portland. She's excited to see him again, to thank him for giving her the push to be honest with Matt.
When she pulls up at the passenger pickup, Kelly is already waiting for her. He tosses his duffel into the back, and the small smile he gives her as he's putting on his seatbelt is too forced. He doesn't immediately tell her about his trip, either, which is unusual and sets off alarm bells.
"How was Boston?" she asks as she pulls out into the street, once it becomes clear he isn't going to offer up the information.
"Fine," he answers gruffly.
"That's it? Just fine?" she asks, the words slipping out before she can stop them. She is about to tease him some more because he hasn't been this monosyllabic for a long time. But when she glances over at him, she sees his jaw is tightly clenched, shoulders tense.
He lets out a breath and stares out the window, avoids her gaze. "I don't want to talk about it."
This isn't like him. Something is wrong.
"Kelly, what happened?" she presses gently.
"Will you just leave it alone, Sylvie?" he snaps. His words are biting, and there's an edge to his voice that she hasn't heard from him in a long time, and she doesn't think it has ever been directed at her.
Biting her tongue, Sylvie keeps her eyes focused on the road in front of her, grips the steering wheel a little tighter.
"I'm sorry," he says after a few seconds of tense silence. He lets out a ragged breath. "The engagement's off."
Her head whips towards him, she stares for as long as is safe while driving. He looks strangely uncomfortable, sitting there in the passenger seat of her car.
There's something about them calling off the engagement that he isn't telling her. She won't push him on it—as much as she may want to—not if he isn't ready to talk about it. She isn't entitled to the full story if he doesn't want to give it.
Her heart breaks for him, though, and even though he won't talk about it, she knows this is the farthest thing from what he wants.
When he tries to deflect talking about his feelings, instead asking how her trip to Portland was, she can't bring herself to give him a detailed answer.
God only, a few minutes ago, she was looking forward to thanking him. She'd taken his advice and now she and Matt are in a good place, and telling him that would feel like she's gloating when he's just told her his engagement is off.
She feels like she went to Portland and came back in some alternate universe, and she has no idea how to set things right again.
... ... ...
Sylvie stands beside her bunk, back of her hand pressed against her forehead, the other resting on her hip. She stares at the pile of paper spread out across her bunk, not sure where she should even start.
Once she arrived back in Chicago, she was right back to work. The day after she returned home she had a meeting with Hawkins to discuss the specifics regarding paramedicine and how it will work going forward.
What it all boils down to is: now that paramedicine is fully funded, that also requires it to be fully staffed.
This means it can no longer be only her and Mouch on their days off. To warrant the cost of the program, the city wants to expand paramedicine to run on a nine-to-five, five-day-a-week schedule and cover all districts, not just the one she works in and is familiar with.
So, for the past few weeks, Sylvie has been meeting with the PICs and ambulance commanders from other districts, working with them to compile a list of their frequent flyers who will benefit from being a part of paramedicine.
She's also responsible for the schedule and ensuring all shifts are covered. That's what the papers spread out on the bunk are—the names and availability of the paramedics who have offered to take shifts with the program.
While she is thrilled paramedicine is finally getting the proper recognition, the logistics are proving to be a bit of a headache. There are so many moving parts to coordinate, and she can't make heads or tails of it.
Hawkins had broached the topic of Sylvie transferring over to run the program full-time. And while that would solve almost all of the scheduling conflicts she's running into, she doesn't think she's ready for that yet.
The entire reason she developed the program in the first place was so there weren't so many non-emergent calls clogging resources when there were emergencies to respond to.
She loves the work she does with paramedicine. But fifty-one is her home, second shift is her family. She isn't ready to give that up or the fast-paced, adrenaline-filled calls that come with working on fifty-one just yet.
She hears the door to Kelly's quarters open, and that pulls her concentration. They've only seen each other in passing. Kelly went off to join Seager on an OFI investigation from a house fire they responded to at the start of their shift.
He doesn't look at her as he walks past her bunk and into the laundry room. Something about that feels purposeful.
He has a pillowcase clutched tight in his hand—just a singular pillowcase, nothing else—and she has questions about that. Interest piqued, she abandons the papers on her bunk and follows after him.
"You're doing laundry?" she teases. "Are you sure you know how to use that thing?"
Kelly narrows his eyes at her. "It's something I've been known to do," he answers dryly.
"In all the years I've known you, I don't think I've ever seen you use this room for its intended purpose."
Hopping up onto the bench beside the machines, she watches as Kelly tosses the pillowcase into the machine, then pours in way too much bleach.
"Did that pillowcase do something to you?" she asks, and there's a split second where she wonders if he is losing it.
She's worried about him. Like really worried about him. But she doesn't want him to know that. So she's been trying to treat him in a way that wouldn't be noticeable to him.
Hence the teasing.
And he won't talk to her, which is infuriating.
Okay, so that's a little exaggerated. He talks to her, quite a lot—like they are now.
But he keeps it all mundane—surface level. He'll ask about her day and paramedicine, and he asks after Matt and the boys. But when it comes to himself, he'll tell her all about his current class at the academy or whatever Capp and Tony have done this week to get on his nerves.
He refuses to talk about Stella, though. It's been weeks since his trip to Boston, and she is no closer to learning what happened between them. She wants to help him through this, but she isn't sure how when he refuses to talk about it.
All he'll tell her is that he and Stella put their engagement on hold—but not their relationship—and that he is fine. (He clearly isn't.)
When Kelly inclines his head at her, gives her a strange look, she realizes she's been quiet, contemplative for too long.
She can't have that, so she gasps, eyes wide. "Did you have an accident with the pillowcase?" she asks, like that is the most logical answer for whatever he's doing.
Kelly pauses, hand on the lid of the washing machine. He glares at her like he doesn't appreciate her teasing, slams the lid with more force than is necessary, and turns the machine on. "Are you done?"
Sylvie swings her legs, and she can't stop it as her mouth curves up at his gruffness. It's all fake. He isn't actually annoyed with her. She thinks she even sees him trying to suppress a smile of his own. She lifts a shoulder. "That depends on what you're about to tell me."
Kelly leans back against the washing machine and folds his arms across his chest. He looks down at his feet. Now, he's the one who's all quiet and contemplative. "Can I run something by you?"
"Of course," she says, sitting up a little straighter, expression suddenly serious. "What is it?"
"What's your take on Julia?"
Sylvie blinks back at him. "The sister from the house fire yesterday?"
"Yeah." He nods. "I didn't get a chance to ask your opinion at med last night. By the time Seager and I had finished talking to Julia, you were gone."
"You care about my opinion?" she asks, lifting a teasing brow.
Kelly rolls his eyes at her. "Shut up. I figured you spent a bit of time with her, is all," he says, but he bumps her shoulder a moment later. "You know I value your opinion."
Sylvie purses her lips, considering. "She was trying to play it tough, but I could tell she was scared. She was insistent she didn't do it. Her story is consistent, not changing. I think I believe her. I just can't imagine her maliciously setting that fire."
Kelly nods, as if this confirms what he's been thinking. The machine buzzes, indicating the end of the cycle, and Kelly transfers the pillowcase over to the dryer.
Sylvie lifts her chin in his direction. "So, does that have anything to do with you playing fire cop?"
Kelly makes a noise like she exasperates him, presses his thumb between his eyes. "Not you, too." He sighs then, runs a hand over his face. "Do you remember those laundromat fires a while back? The contaminated laundry powder was causing them."
"You think this might be something like that?" she asks.
"Maybe," he says. His somber expression gives way to a playful smile. "You doing anything important right now?"
She looks back to her bunk and all the papers strewn across it. Hawkins expects her to drop the paperwork off to him after her shift. She should tell Kelly she has to get that done. But she isn't going to do that. She shakes her head.
"Want to come watch me be right?" he asks, flashes her this lopsided grin. She rolls her eyes at him, but hops down from the bench anyway. He grabs the pillowcase from the dryer.
Following him out onto the apparatus floor, she watches as he puts the pillowcase in a trashcan, adds what appears to be gel on top. She listens as he explains his theory—the sheets washed in too much bleach and Julia's alcohol-based hair gel—and watches as he times his speech so that he finishes just as the fabric ignites, and he looks over at her with a triumphant smile.
While he talks with Seager and Van Meter, Sylvie hangs back until he's finished. She places her hand on his arm and tells him, "Julia's lucky she had you in her corner, Kelly."
He dips his head in acknowledgment. "Thanks, Sylvie."
"You know, you're pretty good at the OFI stuff," she says, a teasing smile playing on her lips. She knows it's not what he wants, that he is very vocal about OFI not being what he wants to do with his career. And yet, somehow, he can't keep himself away. He always ends up inserting himself into the investigations every chance he gets. "You could make a career out of it."
Kelly shakes his head. "You aren't funny," he says like he doesn't really believe that will get her to stop.
Flicking him an incredulous look, Sylvie laughs. "I'm hilarious."