#christopher herrmann

Kelly Severide being the legal guardian to his teenage sister had its pros and cons for sure. The pros were certainly that the two of them were incredibly close and could always count on one another; Kelly also counted it a blessing knowing that while Y/n wouldn’t grow up with a mother and father, she didn’t have to experience the pain of abandonment as he did. One con, according to Y/n at least, was her brother didn’t have a ton of privacy when it came to his…social life. And being a firefighter definitely made time a difficult thing. But Kelly wouldn’t change their situation for the world. Even when his sister was being a little shit.

Like today.

Now, Kelly wouldn’t lie - he had been extra busy recently. And time spent with his darling younger sister was scarce. So perhaps that was the reason he noticed Y/n was being a little mischievous around the firehouse that day. Whatever the reason, Kelly was finding himself close to the end of his rope. First, he got quite a rude awakening when his alarm went off early and he didn’t even notice until he looked outside and saw it was still dark when he was going to head out to his car. Next was salt in his coffee. And many other little things that Y/n knew would annoy her brother.

After a few calls that day, the team finally had a decent enough break that allowed them to relax in the common area and watch a game on TV. Everyone was scattered around the room in different seats, Y/n and Kelly sitting together on the couch.

Kelly stood and stretched before starting to walk off. “Gonna take a leak.”

“I’ll alert the press,” Y/n said, earning an eye-roll from her brother. 

Once Kelly was out of sight, Y/n smirked and stretched herself across the couch to take up the whole space. Some of the others chuckled or rolled their eyes.

“Y/n, I think you should be careful. Don’t you think your brother’s had enough today?” Gabby chuckled. She was more-so worried for the girl than the hot-headed lieutenant.

“He’ll get over it,” Y/n replied a little too easily.

“I’ll get over what?” Kelly’s voice said from behind Y/n. She rolled onto her back and looked up at her big brother glaring at her. “You stealing my spot that I’ve been in for the last hour?”

Y/n shrugged. “Move your feet, lose your seat.”

Kelly walked around to the front of the couch. “Move.”

“Make me.”

Y/n regretted those words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Even more when Kelly smirked deviously. 

Kelly sat on the couch, barely avoiding sitting on his sister as she had just enough time to turn over and press her back to the back of the couch. 

“Ah! Kelly!” she yelped, but couldn’t suppress the grin on her face. Kelly immediately smiled at the giggles that filled the room; even when his sister started shoving him to try and get him off. “Ok, ok, I’ll move!”

Kelly thought for a moment and did consider moving, but Y/n’s playful attitude today seemed to have rubbed off on him. “Actually, you know what? You’re in the perfect position.”

Y/n stopped struggling and huffed. “For what? For you to crush me?”

“No; to demonstrate some carries. Mills! Wanna see a demonstration?”

Peter Mills was in the kitchen watching the scene unfold as he chopped some vegetables that were to be used for breakfast the next morning. He smirked. He and Kelly both knew that he didn’t need any refreshers on fireman carries - but he was more than willing to play along.

“Of course, Lieutenant. From there you can do a hip carry, right?”

“Exactly. Very good.” Kelly put his arms behind him, hooking one around Y/n’s upper back and the other around her knees.

“Kelly! Kelly! Don’t!”

Kelly stood up, leaning forward, and smirking deeper at his sister’s screech as she laid around his lower back/hips. “Now, this is effective for situations where a victim is laying on a surface like a couch or bed; easy to scoop them up, but it’s a bit of an awkward hold when you’re moving, especially if you gotta run. It is also good, though, for annoying little sisters who don’t know when to quit,” he continued, using one hand to lightly tickle the top of one of her knees that his arm was hooked around, making her screech and jerk in his arms. Kelly chuckled and dropped her legs so she could stand.

Y/n huffed and shoved his shoulder. “Funny. Are you done now?”

“Oh, not even close.”

The teen held a hand out, as if it would keep her older brother at bay. He ran forward and ducked a bit, positioning his shoulder near her stomach, and grabbed around her legs again, throwing her over his shoulder so she hung limp. “Kelly!”

“Over the shoulder is a basic one,” Kelly said in an informative tone, adding to Y/n’s frustration. “Typically they still have to be conscious for it, otherwise it’s a bit hard to maneuver. It does free up a hand though, in case you need it.” Kelly reached his hand up to tweak her sides a few times, filling the room with laughter again.

No one made a move to help the girl. This definitely was nothing new. But it was something welcome to brighten everyone’s day. Mouch smiled fondly from his seat on one of the chairs as he kept his eyes on the TV; Cruz and Otis chuckled from their spots; Herrmann watched with a fond smile as well, hoping that his kids someday would share the same kind of bond Kelly and Y/n had.

“You can also do the classic fireman’s carry,” Kelly continued, reaching to grab one of his sister's arms and pull it over his other shoulder. “Slightly harder grip so you gotta make sure you don’t accidentally drop them.” The lieutenant accentuated the word by pretending to lighten his grip on Y/n, making her shriek and grab his middle with her free arm.

“Severide! Don’t forget about having multiple carriers,” Matt offered from the other side of the room with his own smirk. Having Y/n grow up in the firehouse, it was hard for Kelly’s best friend to not grow fond of Y/n. She was like a little sister to him too. Which for Y/n definitely had its charms when she needed another brother figure - but it also had drawbacks when he messed with her like Kelly.

Kelly smirked devilishly at his friend. “Oh yeah! Like an extremity carry!”

Casey jogged over and helped Kelly maneuver the struggling teen so he held under her arms while Kelly held her legs.

“One of the best techniques ‘cause you don’t have to bear the weight alone,” Kelly continued with his ‘lesson.’

“Also makes it easy to swing them around,” Matt added, prompting the two of them to swing Y/n back and forth by her limbs, giggles tumbling out of her like a child.

“Stop! Stop! I get it! Now let me go!” she screeched.

Matt and Kelly looked at each other and shrugged. “Ok,” they said simultaneously. They took a couple steps and not-so-gracefully threw her onto the couch, earning one last yelp. Breathless from her own laughter, she hid her face in her hands in embarrassment as she collected herself. The men chuckled.

“You done causing trouble now?” Kelly said, amusement obvious in his voice. He poked her once when she didn’t respond.

“Ah! Yes, yes, I’m done, I swear,” she said, curling in on herself.

“Good,” Kelly said, taking a seat next to her, bringing her to rest her head on his lap. Matt sat on the other end of the couch, putting Y/n’s legs over his and rubbing her back a couple times.

For the last three years, you've been working as a paramedic at Firehouse 20 alongside Violet Mikami. During that time, you've come to know Blake Gallo as a result of his on-and-off relationship with her. Although he's a great guy, what made him even greater is the person he introduced you to about a year ago— your boyfriend, Captain Matthew Casey of Firehouse 51.

Where could you possibly start? His mesmerizing, smile and his charming personality drew you in in an instant. You never realized how the occasional encounters, transformed into intimate late-night conversations. And before you knew it, those late-night talks grew into romantic dinners and memorable dates.

After months of both of you dancing around one another, he finally masked up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. Without a moment's hesitation, you instantly said yes.

Six months have passed since then. Both of you had mutually decided to keep it private for some time in order to prevent any interference with your jobs. The only individuals who had known were your respective Chiefs, just in case something happened.

Your Chief also knew you could handle a busier station such as 51. So, he had just offered you the vacant paramedic position that was left after Foster left for Med School.

Initially, you were excited about the offer because it meant working with your boyfriend. However, now you're uncertain about accepting it as you're not sure how he’d react. While you believe he'd be as thrilled as you are, there's this nagging feeling that it would complicate things.

So you decided to call him.

"Hey Matt," You said once he picked up.

"Hi babe, everything okay? You rarely call me during shift." He replied, voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine." You assure him before nervously adding, "It's just... I have something to run by you...”

"Go ahead sweetheart, what's up?"

"You know how Foster left and ever since then there's been an open paramedic spot at 51 for a while now?"

He hums encouraging you to continue.

"Well, my Chief spoke to Boden and they both agreed that I could fill that spot if I wanted to."

"That's fantastic news!" He said excitedly. "Do you want to?"

You sighed. "I do want to. I think it would be nice to work with you and the experience of working at a busier station? That would benefit me, by a lot. I’d be able to learn so much."

"Then what's there to run by me? This is your decision Y/N." Matt questioned.

"It's your house! I don't want to interfere with the little family you all have built and make things complicated considering we'd be working together while dating and what if they take it the wrong way thinking I only got the spot because I'm with you-"

"Hey! Y/N, sweetheart, breathe." He says cutting off your rambling, trying to calm you down.

"What?" you ask, voice exasperated.

"Baby, no one's going to think anything like that. You're an amazing paramedic and you earned your spot because you're good at your job. Also, no one knows that we're together so they won't suspect a thing. We don't even have to tell them yet if you don't want to.” He said reassuringly before continuing, “And you wouldn't be interfering with anything, I can assure you that we'd all love to have you at 51. This is completely your choice though, so whether you want to transfer over here or not, you have my full support, regardless of what you decide."

You smile at Matt's words. "Thank you." You pause for a moment before resuming happily, "Okay I'm going to go tell Chief that I'm accepting the position! I'll talk to you later Matt."

"That's my girl." He says smiling before hanging up.

You swiftly head to your Chief's office and let him know that you completed the transfer paperwork and are ready to begin at 51 as soon as possible. He nods, smiling, and assures you that he will push the request forward.

It was now Monday. Which also happened to be the same day you started your first shift as the new paramedic of Firehouse 51.

God were you nervous.

You had spoken to Matt multiple times and he continuously reassured you that you had no reason to feel anxious because everyone would adore you. So why were you still panicking?

Matt liked you, Gallo liked you, and so did Boden after the short interview you two had.

You had also heard a lot about each of them through Matt, and they all sounded like wonderful people. So the odds of your new coworkers welcoming you with open arms were pretty high.

Yet despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety that was coursing through your veins, leaving you a nervous wreck.

You let out a sigh, trying to calm your nerves as you approached the Firehouse. You bumped into Gallo on the way which instantly relieved your worries. Seeing a familiar face put your mind at ease, melting your fears away, even if it’s only for a moment.

The two of you engaged in an easy conversation as you walked into the building together.

Upon entering, you spotted a table near the rigs with several individuals seated around it. Gallo eagerly ushered you towards them, quickly introducing everyone.

"Squad, this is Y/N Y/L/N, our new paramedic!" He said as you smiled, waving at them.

Gallo then pointed at a tan, blue-eyed man who was sitting at the head of the table. "That's Lieutenant Kelly Severide. Head of Squad and those are his Squad members."

He quickly got up and shook your hand. "Nice to meet you Y/L/N."

You recognized him now. He was Matt's best friend, they'd been through thick and thin together. It was sweet actually, finally getting to put a face to the name you've been hearing so much about.

Gallo took his time introducing you to the other members of Squad, all of whom greeted you with kindness and respect.

As he slipped into conversation with them, you took the opportunity to excuse yourself and find your partner, Sylvie Brett, who you’d be spending most of your time with.

She stood out easily, being one of only two women in the house. You spotted her in the kitchen, chatting with another girl who you figured must be Stella, Severide's girlfriend. Matt had spoken to you about how amazing they were as a couple, and it always made you happy to hear about them. With a deep breath, you made your way over to them.

"Hi!" You smiled. "I'm the new paramedic here working with... Sylvie Brett?" You ask unsurly, turning your head to glance at the blonde hoping you're right.

"Yes, that's me! Hi!" She answered enthusiastically, hugging you. Matt had mentioned how sweet she was but the embrace still caught you by surprise. Regardless, you hugged her back, accepting the kind gesture. Once you pulled away you waved at the other woman who smiled back at you, introducing herself as Stella Kidd.

After conversing with them for some time and getting to know one another, you headed off to the officer quarters with the hope of seeing your boyfriend.

Once you approached the office that was referred to Matt Casey, you knocked.

"Come in." You heard so you stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

"Hi baby," You said, smiling at him. He looked up from his desk, features softening as he noticed you.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" He asked standing up to give you a brief kiss on the cheek.

"I'm great! Everyone here is so nice and fun to talk to. They've all been so welcoming." You answered excitedly.

"See, I told you everyone would love you. What's there not to?" He asked rhetorically, making you smile as he placed his hands on your waist pulling you in closer. Matt's inability to keep his hands to himself never fails to make you laugh. It was all quickly forgotten though when he drew you in for a more passionate kiss when he noticed that there weren't any prying eyes on you.

As time passed, days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, you had seamlessly become a part of them. Each member of the group welcomed you with open arms, and it felt like you had found your place within the close-knit family they had formed at 51. It seemed like you had found a lasting bond and a sense of belonging with everyone there, envisioning a permanent future among them.

You became good friends with Sylvie and Stella, established a nice mentorship with Hermann, and created a sibling-like bond with Severide.

Most importantly though, to your knowledge, no one had suspected your relationship with Matt.

You wanted to say something, you really did. You didn't want him to think you were ashamed of being with him. But you didn't want the people you had grown so close to to think that you were only offered the position because of your relationship with him; even if you were confident that they weren't the type of people to believe that.

It was an ordinary day. You and Sylvie had just returned from responding to a call— nothing too serious, just tending to a man who had been cut by a broken mirror. Together with Sylvie, you bandaged him up and sent him to Med for stitches, wishing him a speedy recovery.

You were restocking the ambulance when Sylvie spoke up, "So, did you see the way that guy looked at you?"

You almost choked on your spit at her statement, not expecting it. "How did he look at me?"

"Oh c'mon- there were literally hearts in his eyes every time you spoke up while bandaging him!" She exclaimed a bit too loudly making you shush her.

"Who had hearts in his eyes?" Matt chimed in as he walked up to you and Brett, joining your conversation.

"No one," You say brushing him off but Sylvie interjects. "This guy we were helping earlier, he totally had the hots for our new paramedic over here." She said, nudging you with her arm in a teasing manner.

"Oh, did he?" Matt asked in a tone that sounded like he was joking but you could see the way his body tensed.

"It's whatever, nothing serious. It's not like I'm going to go on a date with him." You roll your eyes trying to dismiss the situation.

"You should!" Sylvie replies happily, "You're pretty and single. He wasn't bad on the eyes either, if you know what I mean. Go have some fun girl! Who knows, he could be the love of your life." She adds, winking.

Matt gave a half-hearted smile and walked away without acknowledging Brett, leaving her looking up in confusion. "What was that about?" She asked.

"No idea," You say shortly, despite knowing exactly what was going on.

Matthew Casey was jealous.

It was quite surprising because he had never shown signs of being the jealous type. In the past, if another man approached you in his presence, he would politely ask them to leave you alone, making it clear that you were already taken. Or he’d simply put his arm around you in a protective, not-so-friendly manner, letting everyone know that you were his. It never bothered you. You found it cute, actually.

But this? This was different. He had never acted this way, which concerned you.

After you were done restocking the ambo you made your way to his office, hoping to ease the tension.

You sighed as you knocked, hearing a quick come-in before stepping inside. You noticed he had his head buried in paperwork, not even acknowledging you as you came in.

"Matt, honey, what's wrong?" You asked, worried when he still didn't look up at you. You waited for a moment before continuing once he didn't reply, "Baby talk to me."

He sighs before finally looking into your eyes. His ocean blues never failed to make you weak in the knees. So intimidating but beautiful nevertheless.

"I don't want to keep this a secret any longer." He eventually replied, motioning between the two of you.

"I don't want to either but you know we can't."

"Why can't we?" He said, tone a bit sharp, causing you to flinch for a second.

"Because-" you were cut off by a knock on Matt's door making you straighten up.

"Sorry to interrupt, but there's someone here to see you Y/N." Said Severide as he poked his head into Casey's office letting you know before heading out.

You quickly glance at Matt sighing before leaving his office, silently apologizing. You hated leaving mid conversation but this could be important. You noticed him trailing behind you as you walked out but chose not to comment on it.

Once you were outside, you recognized him as the man you had sent to Med earlier. The same man who had 'the hots' for you apparently, according to Brett.

This was going to be a long conversation.

"Hello!" He said, way too ecstatic for someone who had just been discharged from a hospital.

"Hi there, how are you feeling?" You asked, keeping the conversation polite.

"Better thanks to you, you saved my life."

"Oh, you know, no big deal! Just doing my job."

"Well, I was hoping to take you out on a date as a way of saying thank you." He said with confidence, catching you off guard.

"I'm very flattered sir but you don't need to thank me, let alone take me out on a date. I'm happy to help, love what I do." You say, hoping that gets rid of him.

By now, you were fully aware that most of the members of the firehouse were watching the interaction occur from behind you. Hence why you were aiming to wrap it up as soon as possible.

"No, no, I insist. We'll have a great time together!" He pushes.

"Like I said, thanks for the offer but I'm going to have to decline. Feel better." You say, turning around.

Before you had a chance to walk away, he grabbed your wrist harshly. Pulling you backward, making you lose your balance, and almost causing you to fall.

"Woah woah woah-" "Back off!" You hear the men hurriedly interject pushing him away from you before Matt yells, in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. "Get your hands off of my paramedic before I call the authorities. You have no right to touch her, especially after she said no."

Boden hears the commotion and steps out of his office. "What's going on over here?"

"This man put his hands on Y/N after she rejected him Chief. He was just leaving though weren't, you?" Matt replies, glaring at the man making him quickly walk away.

The second that he was out of sight, everyone turned to you. Stella speaks up, "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry guys, I'm fine." You say looking around at all of them, reassuring them that you're okay. "Thanks for the help. I'm sure he won't be coming back any time soon, especially after the way Casey glared at him." You add chuckling, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere around you.

"You'd almost think you guys were dating with the way he attacked him to defend you," Severide commented casually, using a tone that sounded like he knew something. Which you decided to ignore for the time being.

At the mention of your boyfriend though, you looked up hoping to catch a glimpse of him but noticed he was nowhere to be found which alarmed you.

As the crowd dispersed and engaged in their own conversations, you discreetly slipped away and made your way to visit Matt in his quarters, marking this as your second visit there in the last half hour.

This time though, you didn't even bother knocking and simply walked in.

When he noticed it was you, he quickly stood up concerned, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh, I'm alright. Don't worry, it was nothing I hadn't dealt with before in this line of duty, you know how men can be sometimes.” You answered, nonchalantly.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say. Finally, you decided to break the silence, “I'm sorry, Matt. I don't want to argue with you, so if it'll make you happy, we can go tell them right now.”

He sighed, turning around in his chair to look at you, “Y/N, this isn't just up to me, we’re in this relationship together. We have to make decisions like these as a team. I love you and I want everyone to know that but if you're not taking this seriously and want to go on that date instead then-”

“No! This is serious to me Matt, I love you and you know that.” You cut him off before he's able to finish the sentence. “I have eyes for you and only you, no one else matters to me but you, Matthew Casey.” You add firmly, making sure he understands that.

“Then what’s the issue here?” He asks, tired of the constant back and forth you've been having today.

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed before replying, “I just- I've become so close to everyone here in the last few weeks and I don't want their opinion of me to change after they find out that you and I are together. I don't want them to think that I'm only here because of you.”

“Baby…” He says in a softer tone, getting out of his seat to come sit next to you.

You don't look at him once he's sat beside you, opting to look at the floor instead.

“Hey, look at me.” He gently says taking your hands in his, grabbing your attention.

You hum as you bring your eyes up to meet his.

When he's sure you're not going to look away, he starts speaking, “Listen to me, everyone here? They're the most amazing and supportive group of people you'll ever meet. They won't dare say anything of the sort because they'd be beyond happy for us. And if they slightly even think about it, I won't hesitate to go all ‘Captain’ on them.” He says, making you chuckle.

“Besides, I don't want idiots like that guy who can't take no for an answer, hurting you again for a nonexistent chance of taking you out.” He adds.

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his, and after a moment passes, you mutter a simple, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Matt questions.

“Yeah, okay, let’s tell them.” You reply, nodding enthusiastically.

“I want everyone to know that this handsome man right here,” You say pointing at his chest with a teasing tone, “Is of the market and mine only.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Mhm,” You say with an even bigger smile, before leaning in to press your lips against his.

As your lips finally touch, a wave of stillness washes over you. It feels as though the entire world has come to a halt and all that exists is the shared connection between the two of you. At that moment, nothing else matters except for the feeling of his lips against yours.

His delicate hand caresses your face, making you smile into the kiss as you pull him in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. There's no need to hide your love for each other anymore, allowing your affection for one another to be expressed freely without the fear of secrecy. The rush of emotion flowing through you is intoxicating and God, it is an exhilarating feeling, one that you had never felt before.

Before the kiss could progress any further, you heard cheering outside making you pull away. You glance out the window to understand what the fuss is about when you notice that the blinds were left open, meaning that all of 51 just saw you kissing Matt.

Your cheeks flush with warmth, causing you to bury your face in Matt's shoulder as he laughs at your reaction. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer in a tight embrace.

You look up at him, mouthing an ‘I love you,’

He whispers back, “I love you too.”

He quickly leans in for one more peck against your lips, before bracing himself for all the questions you're about to receive once you head outside.

“You guys were betting on us?” You asked amused, raising your eyebrows at the exchange of money happening right in front of your eyes.

“Well, what were we supposed to do!?” Cruz exclaimed defensively, earning a giggle from you.

“I mean, we all knew you guys were head over heels for each other, that was obvious. We just didn't realize you had been together prior to all of this.” Added Ritter, shrugging.

“I can speak for everyone though when I say that we are all very happy for you two.” Said Herrmann, making everyone nod in agreement.

As soon as the initial stage of shock died down, Stella and Sylvie rushed over to you, enveloping you in a group hug, requesting all the juicy details. While Kelly simply gave Matt a supportive pat on the back, smiling at his best friend.

Soon, the questions regarding your relationship began pouring in. Matt drew you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he answered each of them one by one. You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes briefly, basking in the serenity.

And at last, you found yourself finally feeling at ease. Your family knew, and they were happy for you. Which is all you could ask for.

The knocking starts soft at first—a gentle tap that weaves itself into your dream about lying on a beach somewhere tropical, where the only thing you need to worry about is whether your drink needs more ice. Then it gets louder. More constant. The kind of knocking that says whoever's on the other side of that door isn't going away anytime soon.

You groan and bury your head deeper into your pillow, pulling the comforter up over your head like it's some kind of protective shield. Next to you, Adam shifts, his arm tightening around your waist in that possessive way he does even in sleep, like he's afraid you'll disappear if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

"Go away," you mumble into the pillow, though you know damn well whoever's out there can't hear you.

The knocking continues. If anything, it gets louder.

"Babe," Adam's voice is rough with sleep, muffled against the back of your neck where his face is pressed. "Someone's at the door."

"I know someone's at the door," you mutter. "I'm ignoring them. You should too."

"What time is it?" He's starting to wake up now, and you can feel him reaching for his phone on the nightstand, his body stretching along the length of yours.

You crack one eye open just enough to see the early morning light filtering through the curtains. The kind of light that tells you it's way too early for any reasonable person to be awake on a Saturday morning. Especially a Saturday morning after the week you've had—three back-to-back cases, barely any sleep, and a mountain of paperwork that you'd finally finished at eleven o'clock last night.

"It's too early for this," you say, and you mean it with every fiber of your being.

Adam checks his phone and groans. "It's seven-thirty."

"Exactly. Too early. On a Saturday. Our day off."

The knocking comes again, and this time it's accompanied by a voice. A familiar voice that makes your stomach drop.

"Hey! I know you're in there! Come on, kid, we've got a schedule to keep!"

You freeze. Adam freezes. You both know that voice.

"Is that..." Adam starts.

"Herrmann," you finish, your voice flat with disbelief. "That's Herrmann at our door. At seven-thirty in the morning. On our day off."

"Why is Herrmann at our door?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, searching through the foggy recesses of your sleep-deprived brain for an answer. And then it hits you. Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

"The charity thing," you whisper, horror dawning. "The firehouse charity event."

"The what?"

"The charity event at 51. The one Herrmann's been organizing for like three months. The one he wouldn't shut up about last time we all went to Molly's." You turn over to face Adam, and even in the dim light, you can see the matching expression of dread on his face. "I told him we'd help set up."

"You told him we'd help set up," Adam repeats slowly. "At what time?"

"Eight," you admit, wincing.

"Come on!" Herrmann's voice booms through the door again. "I've got Cindy making breakfast sandwiches, but they're gonna get cold if you don't get your butts in gear! We've got tables to set up, decorations to hang, and—"

Adam drops his head back onto the pillow with a groan that comes from somewhere deep in his soul. "I'm a cop. I chase bad guys. I do paperwork. I testify in court. I do not set up tables at seven-thirty in the morning on my day off."

"Tell that to Herrmann," you say, but you're already starting to push yourself up, because you know there's no getting out of this. When Christopher Herrmann sets his mind to something, especially something involving the firehouse, he's like a force of nature. Unstoppable. Relentless. And apparently, willing to show up at your apartment before the sun is fully up to make sure you follow through on your commitments.

"Can't we just pretend we're not home?" Adam tries.

"He knows we're home. Your Jeep is parked right out front."

"Maybe we left it there and went somewhere else."

"Adam."

"I'm just saying, it's a possibility."

The knocking comes again, and this time Herrmann's voice has taken on that particular tone he uses when he's dealing with one of his kids who's trying to get out of doing their chores. "I can hear you two talking in there! Don't make me use my key!"

You sit bolt upright.

"He doesn't have a key to our apartment," Adam says.

"Whoops?" you shyly reveal that you gave Herrmann a key to your apartment a while ago in case of an emergency.

"Alright, alright!" you call out, throwing the covers off and immediately regretting it as the cool air hits your skin. You're wearing one of Adam's old Academy t-shirts and a pair of shorts, and your hair is probably sticking up in seventeen different directions, but at this point, you don't care. "Give us five minutes!"

"Five minutes!" Herrmann calls back. "I'm timing you!"

You let out a long breath, running your hands through your hair. Next to you, Adam is still lying in bed, one arm thrown over his eyes like he's trying to block out reality.

"It's too early for this," he echoes your earlier sentiment.

"You already said that."

"It bears repeating."

You lean over and poke him in the ribs. "Come on, Adam. Up and at 'em. We made a commitment."

"You made a commitment," he corrects, but he's already swinging his legs out of bed, his bare feet hitting the hardwood floor. "I was just standing there, minding my own business, drinking my beer, when you volunteered us."

"You were standing right next to me, nodding along!"

"I was being supportive!"

"Well, now you get to be supportive while setting up tables."

He stands up, stretching, and you can't help but admire the view—even at seven-thirty in the morning, even when you're both exhausted and being dragged out of bed by an overly enthusiastic firefighter, Adam Ruzek is still unfairly attractive. His hair is sticking up in the back, and there are pillow creases on his face, and he's wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, and you kind of want to pull him back into bed and forget all about charity events and responsibilities.

But then you remember Herrmann's voice, and the fact that he's probably standing right outside your door with a stopwatch, and you force yourself to move.

"Shower?" Adam asks hopefully, moving toward you with that look in his eyes that suggests he's thinking the same thing you were thinking a moment ago.

"No time," you say, dodging around him and heading for the dresser. "Herrmann said five minutes, and you know he meant it."

"A quick shower," Adam tries, following you. "A very quick shower. Together. Save water."

"Adam."

"I'm just saying, it's environmentally conscious."

You pull out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, turning to face him with your best stern expression—the one you use on suspects who are trying to sweet-talk their way out of an interrogation. "We have approximately three minutes left before Herrmann breaks down that door. Get dressed."

He sighs dramatically but heads for his own dresser, pulling out clothes with the kind of resigned efficiency of a man who knows when he's beaten. You both dress quickly, moving around each other in the practiced dance of two people who've been together long enough to know each other's routines. You pull your hair back into a ponytail, splash some water on your face, and brush your teeth in record time while Adam does the same.

"Coffee," Adam says as you're both pulling on shoes. "Please tell me there's going to be coffee."

"Herrmann mentioned breakfast sandwiches. There's probably coffee."

"There better be coffee. I'm not setting up tables without coffee. I have standards."

You grab your phone and keys, checking the time. Four and a half minutes. Not bad. Adam is right behind you as you head for the door, and when you pull it open, sure enough, Herrmann is standing there in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, looking like a disappointed father whose teenagers just missed curfew.

"Four minutes and forty-seven seconds," he announces, checking his watch. "Cutting it close, kid."

"Good morning to you, too, Herrmann," you say, stepping out into the hallway and locking the door behind you.

He's dressed in jeans and a CFD hoodie, and he's got that particular energy about him that suggests he's already been up for hours, probably had three cups of coffee, and has a detailed schedule planned out for the entire day. Next to you, Adam looks like he might fall asleep standing up.

"Morning," Herrmann says, his expression softening slightly. "Sorry to wake you so early, but we've got a lot to do before the event starts at noon. Figured we could use all the help we could get."

"It's fine," you lie, because what else are you going to say? You did volunteer, after all, even if you'd somehow managed to forget about it until Herrmann was literally knocking down your door.

"Is there coffee?" Adam asks, and it's possibly the most important question anyone has ever asked in the history of questions.

Herrmann grins. "Cindy made a whole pot. And breakfast sandwiches. Figured you two would need some fuel."

"Herrmann, you're a saint," Adam says with genuine feeling.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, let's get moving."

The three of you head down the stairs and out into the early morning air. It's one of those perfect Chicago mornings in late spring—cool enough that you're glad you wore a sweatshirt, but with the promise of warmth later in the day. The sky is clear and blue, and there's hardly any traffic yet, and under different circumstances, you might actually appreciate being up this early.

You head for the cooler, which is blessedly labeled "COFFEE" in Cindy's neat handwriting, and you could honestly kiss the woman right now. You pop it open and find a large thermos, several cups, and a bag of what smell like freshly made breakfast sandwiches. Your stomach growls loudly enough that both Adam and Herrmann look over.

"Someone's hungry," Herrmann says with a knowing grin.

"Someone didn't eat dinner last night because someone was too busy finishing paperwork," you shoot back, pouring coffee into one of the cups and taking a long, grateful sip. It's perfect—hot and strong and exactly what you need to face the day ahead.

You pour a second cup and bring it over to Adam. He takes a sip, closes his eyes, and makes a sound that's borderline inappropriate for public consumption.

"Marry me," he says.

"We've been over this. You have to actually propose first."

"I'm working on it."

Herrmann snorts. "You two are ridiculous. Come on, drink your coffee and let's get loaded up. We're burning daylight."

"It's barely eight in the morning," Adam points out. "There's plenty of daylight left."

"Not with everything we have to do, there isn't."

"Alright," Herrmann says, surveying the loaded trucks with satisfaction. "Stella said she'd come by to help with decorations."

"You okay?" Adam asks, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

"It's too early for this," you say again, but you're smiling now. "But yeah, I'm okay."

"You know Herrmann means well. He's just..."

"Enthusiastic?"

"I was going to say 'intense,' but sure, let's go with enthusiastic."

"Thanks for not making me do this alone," you say quietly.

"Are you kidding? And miss the chance to watch Herrmann boss everyone around for the next four hours? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

There are already several people milling around outside—you recognize Mouch and Cruz, and Stella is talking to someone you don't know, probably another firefighter from a different shift.

"Alright, people! Let's get this show on the road!" Herrmann shouts.

What follows is organized chaos. Herrmann has a plan—of course he has a plan, probably color-coded and laminated—and he directs everyone with the precision of a conductor leading an orchestra. Tables get unfolded and arranged in neat rows in the parking lot. Chairs get set up. Decorations start going up—banners and balloons and streamers in red and white and blue.

You end up on decoration duty with Stella, who greets you with a warm hug and a knowing look.

"Let me guess," she says. "Herrmann showed up at your door this morning?"

"Seven-thirty," you confirm. "On the dot."

She laughs. "He did the same thing to me and Kelly last week when we were setting up for the fundraiser at Molly's. The man doesn't understand the concept of sleeping in."

"I don't think he sleeps at all. I think he just runs on pure determination and coffee."

"And love for this firehouse," Stella adds, and there's genuine affection in her voice. "He drives us all crazy, but we love him for it."

You help her string up lights along the perimeter of the setup area, and as you work, more people start arriving. Severide shows up with Casey, both of them looking far more awake than you feel. Sylvie arrives with a carload of supplies from the hospital—apparently they're doing free blood pressure checks and basic health screenings as part of the event. Herrmann's wife Cindy shows up with their kids and even more food.

By ten o'clock, the parking lot has been transformed. The tables are covered with red and white checkered tablecloths. A grill is being set up for burgers and hot dogs, and a separate table for baked goods is already groaning under the weight of donated pies, cookies, and cakes.

You step back to admire the work, and Adam comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Not bad for a morning's work," he says.

"Not bad at all."

"Think Herrmann will let us sneak out early?"

You laugh. "Not a chance. We're here until the bitter end."

"That's what I was afraid of."

Herrmann appears at your side, looking flushed and happy and more energized than anyone has a right to be. "Looking good, looking good! Kid, I need you to help Cindy with the bake sale table. Adam, you're on grill duty with Cruz. We've got about an hour before people start showing up, so let's make sure everything is perfect."

"On it," you say, because what else are you going to say?

As Herrmann hurries off to micromanage some other aspect of the setup, Adam presses a kiss to your temple. "It's too early for this," he whispers, echoing your words from this morning.

"It's actually almost ten-thirty now," you point out.

"Still too early."

But he's smiling as he says it, and so are you, and as you head off to help Cindy organize baked goods while Adam goes to figure out the grill situation, you realize that maybe—just maybe—this isn't so bad after all.

Sure, you got dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour. Sure, you've spent the last three hours doing manual labor on what was supposed to be your day off.

But you're surrounded by good people doing good work for a good cause. The sun is shining, the coffee was excellent, and Adam is here with you, making stupid jokes and stealing kisses.

By noon, the parking lot is packed with people from the neighborhood. Kids are running around with their faces painted like tigers and butterflies. Adults are lined up at the grill, where Adam and Cruz are flipping burgers with the kind of competitiveness.

You're manning the bake sale table with Cindy, and you've discovered that you're actually pretty good at sales when properly motivated. You've already sold three entire pies and countless cookies.

"You're a natural," Cindy says, counting the cash box with satisfaction. "We should recruit you for every fundraiser."

"Please don't give Herrmann any ideas," you say, but you're smiling.

Adam catches your eye from across the parking lot and grins, giving you a little wave with the spatula he's holding. You wave back, and your heart does that fluttery thing again.

"You two are cute," Cindy observes. "Herrmann says Adam's one of the good ones."

"He is," you agree. "Even if he complains about getting up early."

"Herrmann complains about getting up early too," Cindy confides. "He just doesn't let anyone else hear it."

You laugh at that, and as you turn back to help a customer who wants to buy a dozen cookies, you catch Herrmann watching you from across the parking lot. He gives you a thumbs up and a grin, and you return both.

You were tending the bar at 2PM on a Friday. You weren’t sure why the bar was open that early, seeing as the only customers you had were the old men and day drinkers who had nothing better to do. Herman, however, seemed convinced that it was bringing in enough revenue. You didn’t mind, so long as you got a paycheck. You were saving money so you could leave Chicago, and moreover, leave your boyfriend.

It was getting hard to hide the bruises from Herman, Otis, and Gabby. You often wore long sleeves despite it being summertime, and the makeup had on often sweat off in the middle of rush hour, revealing the bruises on your neck and face. If anyone asked, you quickly made up an excuse and changed the subject.

Your thoughts were broken by the little bell ringing as the door opened. A man in his mid-fifties walked in and looked around. You figured it was another day drinker, or one of those people who stopped in because they were meeting up with someone. Nevertheless, you walked over as he sat at the bar. “Hey there, what can I get you?” You smiled.

He hummed, looking you over, then set something on the bar. “Guess.” He pulled his hand away, leaving a badge in its wake.

You looked at him when you heard his unique voice. He sounded like he smoked eight packs a day, yet he didn’t smell like smoke. You glanced at the badge, then sighed, turning and grabbing two shot glasses, putting one in front of him, and one in front of you. Then, you grabbed your liquor of choice and poured two shots. “On the house.” You took your glass and held it up. The man seemed intrigued, but matched you, clinking your glasses together before you both took a shot. “What can I do for you, sergeant?”

He laughed, looking at you as he set the glass back down. “Do you know me or something?”

You shook your head, putting one finger on the star still sitting on the bar. “It says so on your badge. Dead giveaway. Should’ve used someone else’s.” You shrugged and took care of the glasses and liquor before leaning down on the counter, a cocked eyebrow. “What do you need?”

“Do you know Gregory Sanders?”

You stopped at the name of your boyfriend. You sighed deeply, standing straight again and grabbing a cloth to wipe off the bar. It wasn’t dirty, but you wanted to busy yourself. “I don’t think you’d be here if I didn’t.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“You still haven’t introduced yourself, Sergeant.”

A corner of his mouth pulled him to smile. “Hank Voight.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you replied, not looking up as you obsessively found something to do with your hands.

“So, tell me about Greg.”

“What do you want to know?”

Hank watched you struggle to find something to do, seemingly amused. “What does he do for work?”

You scoffed. Considering your boyfriend was a full-time gun dealer, it almost made you laugh. “Nothing. I bring the paychecks.”

“Yeah? That might be true to an extent, but you should see his bank statements.”

“I have nothing to do with that.”

“That’s not what I asked… Besides, it’s not you I want. But I could arrest you and bring you in for drinking on the job.”

You scoffed again, rolling your eyes and leaning down on the bar again to look into his eyes. “You could. But you can’t charge me with anything. Go ahead, I’m sure my bosses will be ecstatic that I have to close the bar because of you. Just make sure your house doesn’t catch on fire anytime soon if you do take me in.”

“Right, because this is the firefighter bar?” Hank hummed. “I know those firefighters. I’m sure I could smooth things over.”

“You said your name is… Voight?” You laughed softly when he nodded. “I doubt that. They kind of hate you.”

Hank matched your amusement, chuckling as he pulled a card out of his jacket. “Maybe that’s true too. You’re pretty smart, I’ll give you that.” He slid the card over to you on the bar, then grabbed his badge and clipped it back to his belt. “Find me if you feel like talking.”

With that, he got up and left the bar. You looked down at the card, which was his business card. Taking it, you put it in your jeans pocket just as someone else came up to the bar. You looked up, but frowned when you saw it was Greg himself. You walked over and grabbed his beer of choice. You hated it when he drank, since his tab usually came out of your paycheck. You set it in front of him after opening it. “Hey baby,” you said softly. “What’s going on?”

“Who was that?” He asked. “Travis told me a cop was here.”

“Yeah he was a cop,” you replied with a shrug. “A lot of cops hang out at this bar. It’s owned by firefighters. First responders are all a club.”

“A sergeant?”

You scoffed. “So? Just means he’s allowed to day drink more than the foot patrols.”

He grabbed your arm, squeezing it tightly, right where he had left bruises previously. You gasped and let out a small yelp in pain but couldn’t escape his strong grip. “Shit, that hurts, Greg,” you whispered as your body contorted in an effort to escape him.

“What the hell did you tell him?”

“Nothing, I swear! He came in, asked about you, and I told him I have nothing to do with whatever you do on a daily basis. That I work to support us both!”

Greg squeezed harder, then finally let go, making you recoil and rub your aching arm. You bit your lip as tears brimmed your eyes.

“You better not talk to the cops. You know what will happen.”

“I know,” you whispered.

Greg took a deep swig of his beer before getting up and leaving, Travis leaving with him. You sighed, grabbing the still-full beer and swigging some yourself before putting it below the counter to drink later.

—

When work got out, things really ramped up at the bar. You got busy. Greg didn’t hang out when the bar was busy, because there were so many cops around. You started to sweat again, especially due to the long sleeve and pants you were wearing, rolling up your sleeves to reveal the fresh bruises in an attempt to cool yourself. Nevertheless, your makeup betrayed you and once again showed off the bruises on your neck and your cheeks. You wanted to get to the bathroom to touch it up, but not before Sylvie and Stella caught you. The two looked you over with a frown.

“(Y/N), who does this to you?” Sylvie asked.

“Nobody,” you replied quickly. “I’m just clumsy, you know?” You quickly poured them another shot of whatever they were drinking.

“Come on, (Y/N), there’s twenty cops in this bar who would be happy to help you,” Stella protested.

You sighed and shook your head. “Stella, Sylvie, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.”

“Whoever you’re protecting isn’t worth it if they do this to you. They won’t hurt you if you tell us,” Stella protested.

You scoffed. Of course, Greg would hurt you if he ever found out. He would probably kill you. You shook your head and walked away from them to tend to someone else at the bar.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Erin said with a smile as she walked up with Jay. You knew the two pretty well, as they were there with the normal crowd most nights.

“Hey Erin, Jay,” you nodded to each of them. “What’s the choice tonight?”

“Just beer,” Jay said with a smile.

“Coming right up.” You grabbed two beers and popped them open, setting them in front of the two. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Actually,” Erin said, reaching out to take your hand. She didn’t want to touch your bruises, so she pulled you gently by the hand to come closer. “You okay?”

You sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. We have this conversation a lot, don’t we?”

“You have new bruises a lot,” Jay replied softly. “We’re just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’m clumsy,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, one of your cop buddies came around today.”

“Yeah?” Erin asked.

“A sergeant,” you replied. “Voight, I think was his name. I guess he’s investigating someone. Thought I had something to do with it. Threatened to arrest me, too.”

Jay and Erin looked at one another, then Jay swigged his beer. Erin hummed and looked back at you. “Voight is our boss. He’s the guy who practically raised me.”

You took a sharp breath. You’d just wanted to change the subject. Now you didn’t want to talk at all. “Sorry I said anything,” you said softly. “I don’t want to get in the way of your investigation.”

“(Y/N), we’re investigating Greg Sanders. You were identified as someone on his contacts list.”

You sighed. “Like I told Voight, he’s my boyfriend, but I don’t have anything to do with whatever he does. All I know is I work when the bar is open, and sleep most of the other time. Greg comes home sometimes to get his… fill. We have sex, I fall asleep then get up for work. That’s it.”

Jay looked up at you. He had those puppy dog eyes that could make the hardest person melt in an instant. “We think he’s pretty rough with you, considering the bruises. We just want to help you, especially if you don’t have anything to do with his… dealings.”

You shrugged and turned away as someone else came up to the bar, letting the conversation end there. You got busy again, filling and re-filling drinks, running and paying tabs, and keeping it as clean as possible.

.

When the bar finally closed for the night, you swept the floor and made sure everything was clean for the next day. It was Saturday, your day off. Christopher walked out from the back, handing you an envelope. You opened it and counted out enough to cover the tab your boyfriend had run up that week, which had been more than half of your paycheck. You sighed as you handed it to him. “For Greg’s tab.”

“You know, he should pay for his own drinks,” Chris said softly. “Is there a reason you’re still with this guy?”

You shrugged as you continued to sweep the floor. You knew he’d kill you if you ever broke up with him. That’s why you had to leave Chicago. You knew this week’s paycheck wouldn’t contribute much to your sad savings for the trip away. You had barely $100 saved up and you’d been saving for three months.

Chris sighed. He tried multiple times, like many others, to reach you. You simply wanted to leave Chicago and go somewhere nobody could find you. “Alright, just let me know if you need anything. All I’m saying is you deserve better.”

—

The next day, you woke up in the afternoon, due to being up until last call. What really annoyed you, though, was an obsessive knocking at your front door. You groaned and threw on some clothes, yelling down to the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath a curse at whoever was on the other side of the door. When you finally opened it, you were shocked to see Travis, who pushed himself past you and inside. “Travis? What the hell is going on?”

“(Y/N), it’s not my fault, I swear it.”

“What? What’s not?”

“There’s a cop and he’s pissed.”

“What cop? Where?” You looked back to the door, which was still open, seeing Hank Voight standing on your porch now. You hadn’t seen him before because of Travis’s frantic nature. “Sergeant Voight, what’s going on?”

Voight pushed into the house with you, shutting the door behind him. “You’re both going to come with me. Either we can do this quietly, or I can bring three squads down and make a big show of it with the cuffs.”

Your eyes landed on Travis. “What the hell did you do? Does Greg know?”

“It’s not my fault! He threatened me!”

You scoffed and looked back to Voight. “I know my rights.”

“That’s the wrong answer, (Y/N). I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your damn help or anybody’s. I’m not going anywhere, so go ahead and drag me out in cuffs. I’d like to see the warrant for my arrest.”

Voight looked you over, then turned his gaze to Travis. “Come on, big boy.”

“I-I didn’t do anything! I brought you here! What more do you want from me, man?!”

“You have a warrant, Travis. Failure to appear in court for your weed possession.” Voight walked over and grabbed Travis, pushing him against the wall with his hands behind his back. “I’m taking you to the station and booking you.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the deal, Voight? Cops always make a deal when they try to threaten people with petty things like this. Especially when they’re of your rank and position.”

“Deal is, you both come quietly, or I force you both with me.”

“Why?” You crossed your arms. You hadn’t realized it until then, but you were wearing a short sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts, which showed off all of the bruises on your body. You also didn’t have any makeup on.

Voight brought Travis over, then leaned in to very quietly whisper in your ear. “There’s bugs all over your house. Can’t talk here.”

You let out a breath. “Cameras too,” you muttered before recoiling away from him. “You’re going to have to arrest me, then!”

“So be it,” Voight said with a nod, then took out a radio to call for squad backup. He put cuffs on Travis and led you out to the front porch with him. A single squad came for backup, the two cops taking Travis and cuffing you. Voight put you in his own car, the others taking Travis in theirs.

As you rode with Voight, you looked up at him from the back. “What is this?”

“I know he hurts you,” Voight said. “Erin and Jay are concerned. They wanted me to get you out of there. From the looks of your body, I’m glad I did.”

You blushed, suddenly feeling exposed as you tried to cover yourself, which was impossible due to your cuffs and choice of clothing. “I’ve never told anyone what he does. They don’t know what's going on.”

Voight sighed, glancing to the rear-view mirror. “Plus, your boyfriend is a felon. Drug running across state lines? I’ve heard that he even took a few loads to Canada.”

“Look, I don’t have anything to do with what he spends his time doing.”

“That’s why I have to protect you. For all he knows, you were arrested. In reality, you’re in protective custody until I put the cuffs on him and put him away for life.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right… If you really wanted to help me, you’d get me out of the state instead.”

Voight didn’t say anything back, driving you to the district as you looked out the window, wishing you could just start over.

--

2 Weeks Later

--

You were put into protective custody by Hank and the others. Erin often came to check up on you, sometimes with Jay. You always brushed it off and made snide remarks, but it was only because you were afraid he would find you. You were confined to a safehouse on the outskirts of the city for over two weeks before a firm knock came to your door. It wasn't Erin, seeing as she usually brought her key and knocked softly. You were terrified, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and trying to peek through the front window. You could tell it was a man by the way he was standing and the firmness of the knock. You couldn't see his face, though, and that terrified you. You took a breath and positioned yourself behind the door, holding the knife up, then unlocking it and opening it, peeking around to stab whoever may have walked through.

His reflexes were faster than yours. He grabbed your wrist which was holding the knife, but his voice made you stop when you began to struggle. "(Y/N), (Y/N), hey, it's just me, it's Hank."

You let out a breath, dropping the knife as you trembled. You pulled your hand away, panting as your adrenaline pumped. "I-I'm sorry, I thought you were-"

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I didn't mean to scare you." He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, then pulled you a little closer to him. It was subconscious, but you followed him without protest. He shut the front door and led you to the small sofa, sitting beside you and rubbing your back to calm you, one hand on your knee.

You looked down. Again, you'd been wearing shorts due to the heat of the Chicago summer. Your skin looked much better, still pale, but at least the bruises were fading. You gently set one hand on top of his on your knee. You looked up at him as you finally calmed down. "Why are you here?"

"I came to tell you that you're safe now," he said softly, still rubbing your back with his free hand. "I put Greg in jail, along with everyone in his crew."

You looked into Hank's eyes. The chocolate orbs surrounded you, comforting you. You couldn't quite explain it, but they made your soul feel warm, like how hot chocolate feels on a cold winter's night. You blinked once, then looked down. Tears welled in your eyes. "Is it... really over? He won't get me if I leave here?"

"That's right," Hank replied. "He won't." You took a breath, nodding as the tears threatened to spill. Hank gently reached his hand up to cup your chin with his fingers, making you look up at him. "Hey, don't worry. I said I'd protect you and I still mean it."

You smiled softly, looking over his face. He was an attractive man, something you hadn't quite noticed until then. He matched your smile, bringing his other hand up to stroke a piece of hair from your face. "Let's get dinner to celebrate. Tonight."

You blushed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, then I'll help you move your bags from here to wherever you want to go. I hope you're not still planning on leaving Chicago."

You hiked your shoulders, sighing softly. "I don't know anymore. I just want to start over and put all of this behind me."

"I'll set you up in my guest room."

.

Suffice to say, you didn't spend the night in the guest room. The spark you and Hank had over dinner was enough to light an entire forest on fire all at once. You found that you came from similar backgrounds, born and raised in Chicago. You even went to the same school, albeit you were several years younger than him at the time. When Hank got you to his house, the night ended with some bourbon and a lot of gentle kisses. You weren't drunk by any means and Hank had taken his sweet time with you. He made you feel truly loved for the first time in your life. After years of abuse, Hank's love was refreshing.

--

The morning came all too soon when Hank's alarm went off at 5:45. You whimpered softly, Hank groaning and rolling over to shut it off, leaving you cold for a moment before he came back to embrace you. You hummed as you pressed backward into him, loving how his strong arms wrapped you up. He chuckled softly, pressing kisses to your neck as he rubbed your waist. "Good morning," he muttered into your skin.

"It is with you holding me," you replied softly, smiling. The time you'd spent with Hank was some of the best time you'd ever had on Earth. He made you happy.

"Mmn, too bad I have to get to work," he said softly.

"You have some time, don't you?" you asked, turning around in his arms. "Work doesn't start until eight."

"Yeah, but I have ComStat at seven in the Ivory Tower. The life of a Sergeant." He shrugged, nuzzling his nose softly against yours with a gentle smile.

You matched his smile, even giggling a little. You pushed yourself closer to him, connecting your lips with his in a gentle kiss. The passion and love flowed from both of you as he pulled your waist closer.

"Mmn, I think it's going to be a good day, seeing as I'm waking up like this," Hank said, one hand reaching up to cup your face, stroking his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself sitting with Matt and Kelly, discussing everything from work to life. But amidst the laughter, a familiar sensation crept over you—an aura that signaled a seizure was coming. You tried to brush it off, hoping it would pass.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, noticing your sudden stillness.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy,” you lied, forcing a smile.

But it was too late. The world began to blur, and you felt your body stiffen. Your vision darkened, and the sounds around you faded into the background.

When you came to, you were lying on the floor, surrounded by concerned faces. Matt was crouched beside you, worry etched on his features. “Hey, you’re okay. Just breathe,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the haze.

Kelly was on the other side, holding your hand. “You’re safe, we’re here,” he reassured you, his grip firm but gentle.

As you tried to focus on their voices, the fear began to dissipate. “What happened?” you croaked, trying to sit up.

“You had a seizure,” Matt explained, his eyes never leaving yours. “But you’re alright now. Just take your time.”

Kelly adjusted his position, ready to assist you if needed. “Do you remember anything?” he asked.

“Just… a blur,” you managed, feeling shaky but grateful for their presence. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Matt said, his voice steady. “This isn’t your fault. We’ll always be here to help.”

They stayed by your side, offering support as you regained your bearings. Matt kept talking, his soothing words grounding you. “You’re stronger than you know. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Kelly nodded in agreement. “We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone.”

Slowly, you felt the room stabilize, and the tension in your body eased. With Matt’s help, you sat up fully, leaning against him for support. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Matt said, smiling gently. “Just promise us you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I promise,” you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. With them by your side, you knew you could face anything.

As the night continued, the laughter returned, but this time, it felt different—stronger, filled with the bond you shared. You realized that with friends like Matt and Kelly, you could navigate even the toughest moments, knowing you’d never have to face them alone.

—————————————————————————

Any finally to kick off my hyper fixation of Chicago fire we’ve got fluff from my favourite two guys 🫶🏻 hope you guys like :)

Just tagging some guys I love who write for these guys 🫶🏻