#ree's.writing

So when Adam heard that Roman suddenly went on furlough, and that he wouldn’t be coming back, that he had transferred, again, to yet another district, he had been immediately curious. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to ask Kim about it himself, but he could linger around corners and the locker room, acting like he was absorbed in something else, all while he listened to others asking.

All Kim said to anyone—even Kev—was that Roman needed a change of scenery, and she always said it so clipped, so final, making it clear she wasn’t engaging in any gossip. It’s something that would usually leave Adam feel a swell of pride for his girl, being so polite and tactful, but she’s not his girl, and it only made him feel mildly frustrated as he wanted to know why Roman left.

Naturally, Platt was no help either.

With no answers, Adam had made his own. He had decided that whatever was the thing happening between them, whatever that difference was, it had ended, been disconnected. And that was satisfactory enough for Adam—and a little bit of an ego booster, if he was honest.

But then it happened.

Adam was minding his own business in the locker room—for real, this time—getting changed before he headed to Molly’s when he overheard Kim talking to one of the other officers. It’s his fault, really. His ears are still trained to immediately zone in and listen whenever he hears her beautiful voice, even months after she broke his heart.

From context, Adam quickly got that the officer asked if Kim was joining them in Molly’s. Usually, he’d be crushed at her not going, always liking to catch a glimpse of her there even as she steadfastly ignored him. But this time, that’s not what crushed him.

“I can’t,” Kim said. “I have to get home. I’ve got a date planned for cuddles on the couch; Roman is still adjusting to the move,”

Adam’s heart had stopped.

He’s a good cop, but even an idiot could guess what had recently transpired in Kim’s life hearing that. Roman—he was living with Kim.

And Kim was having dates with him.

That’s when Adam realised he had gotten it all wrong; Roman hadn’t transferred because things between them had fizzled—but because he was dating Kim, because he was living with Kim.

Adam didn’t go to Molly’s that night. He still drank, but it was very much drinking to be alone, in the darkness, not amongst his colleagues.

Any hope that Adam had about him misunderstanding what he overheard evaporated only a few nights after. He was in Molly’s, and at some point Kim had turned up to, and when he was grabbing a beer, his ears betrayed him again and he tuned into her saying that “she had to leave,” that “she had a date with her boyfriends, Roman, Ben and Jerry,”

Despite having learnt already that Kim was living with Roman—living with him, when they never even got to live in a place that was theirs together—Adam hadn’t been prepared to hear the first time Kim referred to another man as her boyfriend.

Adam had an early night, too, that night. But his was a lot more miserable than hers was.

Kim had moved on. There was officially no hope for them.

After this, all Adam ever seems to hear is Kim talking about Roman. In Molly’s, in the locker room, when he’s just walking through the district. All he ever hears is Kim making comments about Roman, about their relationship, about all the domestic elements of their life.

And it's killing him.

He’s handing Platt some paperwork about his expenses when he overhears Kim talking with other officers about grabbing lunch. Someone suggests sushi, and Kim immediately groans.

“Ugh, no, pass, please. All I’ve been cooking recently is fish for Roman, and I’m officially sick of the sight of any seafood. Especially with how Roman eats it, I think he’s put me off fish for a lifetime.”

And he’s in the locker room, in the morning, getting ready for work when he hears Kim come in, chatting away with another officer—her replacement for Roman, he thinks, not that he’s been able to ask. Not when she’s avoiding him like he’s got the plague and not when he doesn’t know if he could get through a conversation with her without his heart literally breaking in two.

“And oh my god, the bathroom! I swear I’m having to clean it so much which I know I signed up for but he makes such a mess in there. And he always seem to want to pee right as I’m showering—no matter the time. It’s not even just that, it’s so much hair. You wouldn’t think that Roman would shed that much hair,” Kim sounds so frustrated, and Adam hates how much that hurts him, even though she’s venting about her new boyfriend.

“Typical man,” the other officer says, and the two of them burst out laughing, hard, for a reason that Adam doesn’t quite get. And it’s just another reminder that Kim has jokes now that he’ll never know, that it’s Roman’s privilege now to have that view into Kim’s world.

All these little moments that Adam overhears, they all hurt him. Deep, in an aching kind of way that he never thought he’d feel, a way he never knew was possible, a way that he never experienced when his previous engagements ended.

But the one that hurt him the most was another conversation he overheard in Molly’s. Kim is already in the bar when Adam gets there and if he hadn’t walked in with the rest of the unit, he might’ve been tempted to walk right back out. But he had, so he stayed, instead telling himself that he’ll stay way clear of her—he needs to give his liver a rest, after all.

His one consolation is Kevin, who shoots him an understanding look, clocking Kim as well. Things had been distant between those two, as well; Kevin had felt a bit upset at hearing about Kim and Roman through the district grapevine, and from what Kev had told him, which granted isn’t much, Kim had all but dismissed these feelings when he asked her about it.

If Adam’s honest, it doesn’t sound like something Kim would do, but then he didn’t think dating Roman would be something Kim would do, so what does he know? And he knows Kevin well enough to know his hurt is real.

It probably would’ve been fine, had Adam not needed to go take a piss. He was actually enjoying himself with his unit, so much that for a moment he got wrapped up in the fun he temporarily forgot that Kim is also in the bar. And that in order to get to the toilets, he had to go past where Kim sat.

“Partners... The wrong one can be so detrimental to everything, both personally and professionally.” It is busy in Molly’s, and so Adam was moving carefully, winding through the crowd and is unable to speed up to put as much distance between them as soon as he hears Kim’s voice and he remembers.

“Like my ex partner, he was just so wrong for me. His attitudes, the way he spoke to and about me and how he acted about my role, like I was beneath him? His opinions and wants was the most important and that was that. A partner to be good needs to support you, and help you accomplish what you need to, not dismiss your own dreams, especially your professional ones. But my partner now? Completely perfect for me, and that makes all the difference.”

There are times Adam wishes there is an off switch to his ears, and this is the only time he would be truly glad if that was the case. He couldn’t help listening to Kim speak, despite the noisiness of the bar, despite the obvious signs at the start of the sentence that it could be potentially devastating for him.

He had thought the moment when Kim handed him back her ring would be the most devastating moment of his life.

How very stupid of him indeed.

Adam knew, obviously, that Kim was unhappy with their relationship. She wouldn’t have ended it otherwise. And he knew that he wasn’t always the best—missing the dinner with her mom was a fine example of how he could fuck up. But he hadn’t quite realised that she felt like that, that she thought he was like that.

And suddenly all Adam could do was doubt himself, thinking back on things and wondering is that really how he acted? Is he really such a fuck up that he made Kim feel like he didn’t value her, respect her? That he dismissed her dreams and didn’t support her?

Adam feels sick, and he knows that he’ll be leaving the bar, now, even though just five minutes ago he thought he’d be here at least half an hour longer. That he’ll say goodbye to the team and head home—just as soon as he convinces himself to go back out to the bar, to leave the toilets. It’s a challenge to get his feet moving, standing immobile, unable to bear the thought of walking past Kim again.

He manages to, mostly spurred on by another man entering the toilets and Adam became so aware at how weird he would seem if he just remained frozen on one spot there. He hoped that maybe he wouldn’t hear anymore as he passed by again, but isn’t that lucky.

Even more unluckily, it seems that Kim is once again getting ready to leave the bar and Adam realises that if he just stayed in the toilets for one more minute, he would’ve been free of his hell. But he chose to leave, then, and as a result he gets to hear Kim say another thing that devastates him to his core.

“I’ll see you around. Good luck with everything,” Kim is saying as he draws near. “Now, I’ve got to get back to the love of my life,”

It is really credit to himself, and his dignity—what’s left of it, anyway—that Adam doesn’t fall to the ground right then and there, Kim’s words faltering him in his steps.

It’s not even the words. Well, not only the words.

But it’s how she says it. There’s a hint of humour to her voice, but there’s a certainty. That it’s like she’s just saying any old fact, that it is just the truth, and she’s just stating something so big like it’s something casual—because, in her life, as far as she’s concerned, it is.

The words haunt Adam for the rest of the night, going round and round in his head. He remembers all the times she said those words to him; whispered to him in their dead of night talks, casually said it over breakfast, or at a dinner with Kev. Remembered the time she stared at her ring for the one of the first times, and told him that, told him that she was so happy—happy because the love of her life wanted her just as much she wanted him.

How could it be that only six months after they broke up, that she had moved on so fast? That she had discovered that Adam was just a footnote in her life, and not one who’d have her heart forever?

But, of course, Adam knew how. He heard how from Kim’s mouth that same night; heard how she saw their relationship, saw him, and even though it confuses Adam, because surely, surely he wasn’t that bad, that doesn’t really matter. That’s how she felt during their relationship, and that’s exactly why she left him, exactly why Adam’s not the love of her life anymore, and why Roman is.

Adam had already been trying to stay clear of Kim’s path, out of respect for her wishes as well as preservation for his own heart, but after that night in Molly’s, he really starts avoiding her. If anyone notices, they choose not to comment on it, something which Adam deeply appreciates.

He doesn’t even wonder if Kim notices, knowing that she’s moved on, that he’s probably the person she least wants to think about and knowing that if she does, she’s probably glad—happily living her life with Roman, and glad there’s no lingering ex-fiancé hanging around her.

His avoidance amps up two months later when they hear word of a cop being shot in another district—and that the cop is Roman. There’s nothing Adam wants even less then seeing a distraught looking Kim, knowing that it will be because of her new partner, her new boyfriend, knowing that she’d be hurting over a man who gets to love her in the way he so, so wishes he still was allowed to.

Adam thinks the sight of it might actually be what kills him.

This includes not going to Molly’s, not wanting to run into her, not wanting to have to say his sympathies—or having to be the kind of man who can’t get past his own feelings to even choke out the words—and rather, not wanting to go and not see her and knowing it’s because she’s at his bedside.

And nothing makes cops group together like the one, big family they are like an officer getting injured and Adam heard words of everyone going to Molly’s because of the shooting and he knew he isn’t strong enough for that.

So Adam doesn’t go to Molly’s, and when he has some days off a week or so after the shooting, Adam stays in his apartment the entire time, even if before he would’ve spent the time catching up with people he hadn’t seen in a while.

No, for now, all the friends Adam needs is alcohol and takeout.

He’s half way through the Chinese he had ordered when there’s a knock on his apartment door. It confuses him for a second, looking down at his food, food that had already arrived and so didn’t need delivering but he shrugs it off and goes to the door anyway.

Kim repeatedly got on his case about his surprising lack of awareness depending he’s a cop, that he never questions why his door knocks, and about how he never ‘practiced safety’ by opening the door without checking the peep hole and this comes to his mind, now. Just like it had ever since she left him, his ears missing her voice repeating the same words she always did despite him never listening, and he had gotten into the habit of checking.

(There’s a part of him that wonders, if he did that more when they were still together, maybe she’d still be his).

But Adam’s feeling particularly irritable today, at the whole situation, at the aching emptiness in his heart that still remains despite the fact it’s been months, despite the fact that they’ve been split for as long as their engagement was now, despite the fact that Kim hasn’t given him a second fucking thought, despite the fact that she’s with another man.

So why the hell should he still be listening to her voice in his head?

Adam opens the door, pushing that voice into a box in his head. Because of it, he thinks he must’ve opened the door a little too forcefully, as Kim looks startled as he does so.

Wait, he thinks. Kim?

For the first time in months, Kim is standing at his door. It’s what he’s been dreaming of ever since she walked out on him, and he had came back to his apartment and every bit of her was scrubbed from it. Even just a few weeks ago, had she turned up, for whatever reason, Adam would’ve been immediately softened at her appearance.

Not today. Today, Adam feels irritable.

“What do you want?” He snaps at her. He doesn’t mean for it to come out just so harsh standing but it’s been months of no contact and now she’s standing here for god knows what reason and all Adam wants to do is finish his dinner.

Kim looks a little taken back by his tone, which should’ve annoyed him more, especially considering it’s reasonable to assume he wouldn’t exactly be all sunshine and roses at her presence, especially since he’s in a mood, but it makes him feel guilty, bad that he’s caused that reaction in her.

This woman is going to be the death of him, he thinks.

Still, Kim isn’t deterred by his tone because of course she isn’t, because she’s Kim, and Kim is a strong and determined woman who never backs down from what she wants to do.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” She says, and Adam almost wants to laugh. What possible misunderstanding could there have been—what, did she not actually break up with him, didn’t actually break his heart?

“Meet Roman,” At that, Kim holds up something and Adam realises this whole time there’s been something in her arms, and a pet cage at her feet that he didn’t see. (Yeah, he’s a great cop).

“My cat.” She finishes.

Oh.

Sylvie had suggested they keep it low-key, just her and Kim, in Molly’s with a beer. It hadn’t exactly screamed a recipe for success but she had found herself agreeing nonetheless. And Kim was proven wrong; Sylvie had grabbed them a booth near the back, and intelligence had been wrapped up in a case so she didn’t have to see anyone from work, which had been a blessing.

There had been some officers hanging around, of course, and a couple of them looked eagerly at her and Kim had just known that they’d be approaching her to try and get the gossip on why Sean was transferring.

But Sylvie had also clocked them, and she excused herself to talk to Herrmann and Kim still has no idea what she said to him, but none of the officers bothered them that night.

“It’s just typical Sean,” it wasn’t long before Kim was bitching about her ex-partner. “Transferring in such a way and leaving me to have to deal with the fallout. He couldn’t even give me that one decent consideration.”

“He’s an asshole, Kim, of course he wasn’t going to.” Sylvie’s words aren’t said condescendingly, even if they could be seen that way.

“Like so the man tries to kiss me only weeks after I broke up with my fiancé, who we both work with, then tries to tell me that I was giving him ‘signs’, and then that he loves me and he knows I love him—which what the fuck, I just broke up with Adam, and he knows I’m still very much in love with him—and then when I rebuff all this he just... Transfers. And does it so fucking coyly that it means of course, people are curious. Which only leaves me in this position of being noncommittal and only fuelling the gossip, or telling the truth which, let’s be honest, is only going to make people think that there was something there—and god forbid it looks bad on him, no, it’ll only reflect badly on me and no one will ever want to be my partner.” Sylvie had been right, going out had done her good, giving her chance to vent.

“And what gets me is that he was able to just transfer. Bam, just like that. And he’ll go and settle in to his new place, and he’ll get barely if any scrutiny over it and even if he’s truthful about everything—which not fucking likely—he won’t get respected any less. Me, on the other hand.” Kim paused, to take a sip of her drink.

“You know, I was going to transfer. Yeah, yeah, I know. Not great, and luckily Platt and Lindsay talked me out of it. But one of the reasons I didn’t? Because it would follow me around. But Sean’s second transfer in just as many years? Nothing.” Kim couldn’t help scoffing, she was just about done with the hypocrisy of the police force, of the hypocrisy of her fellow officers.

Sylvie, to her credit, listened patiently, sympathising with her and asking her questions about how she’s doing and genuinely caring about her response—everything Sean should’ve done, everything a decent human would do.

It was one of Sylvie’s questions that lead to this, the blonde asking her about how she’s doing, personally, beyond the Sean stuff.

“Honestly? Pretty fucking lonely,” Kim had drunk all of her beer by that point and it was either that, or just because she was on ranting roll, that made her be more openly truthful about things.

“I’m hurting, like all the time, and work is now this... Huge dread for me. And when I go home, I’m coming home to an empty apartment. A few weeks ago, I had a fiancé and a future and now everything just feels so empty and lonely. I have no one to share my life with; my sister has her own life, and my mother just keeps telling me I told you so and saying I should quit being a cop and it’s just a lot. Probably doesn’t help my new apartment is one I first saw the listing for when I was looking for a place for Adam and I,” Kim couldn’t help but scoff at herself.

“It’s all a bit pathetic, isn’t it? Because it’s because of me that I’m lonely, like what did I think I’d feel?” She was feeling really self-deprecating about herself.

“Kim, no,” Sylvie had shook her head at that. “It is not pathetic. Ending a relationship, especially an engagement, it’s a big deal and a big change. And it does mean you find yourself feeling a bit lost as you readjust. At least you haven’t moved to a new city?”

Kim scoffed again. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Kim,” Sylvie said softly, but scoldingly. “Look, my point is just that your feelings are natural. And yeah, you ended it, but that doesn’t make you pathetic for missing it, because it was still a part of your life. You just need to remind yourself that the cons began outweighing the pros—you ended it to prioritise yourself and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

The doubt Kim felt evidently showed on her face as Sylvie continued.

“Okay, let’s brainstorm. You’re not over Adam, and jumping into a new relationship is never a good idea, so we can’t end your loneliness with getting back out there. We can try and arrange more girls nights—even get Lindsay in for it, and maybe even Sarah from med—but our lives are pretty busy so that might not be the most effective... Can you go visit family you haven’t seen in a while—your father? You’ve never told me about him, but is he an option? Sometimes going somewhere and clearing your head can do a world of good.”

Kim frowned, making it very clear that wasn’t an option.

“Okay, so that’s a no. Hm,” Sylvie looked thoughtful. She was silent for a long moment, before suddenly her face lit up, and she leaned forward very excitedly.

“You could get a dog! A cute, fluffy companion! No need to worry about scheduling nights out to get company, and someone to greet you when you come home. Plus I saw one of your neighbours had a dog while I was waiting for you, so your new place is pet friendly. It’s perfect.”

Sylvie looked so happy, so pleased with herself that Kim felt guilty for the way she would have to crush her.

“Sylvie,” her friend’s face immediately faltered at Kim’s soft sigh. “I work all the time. And because of the move and the calling off the engagement, I don’t really have a lot of savings so I don’t know if I’d be able to afford a dog walker and I just... I don’t think I’m in a place right now where I could adequately look after a dog, do all the walking and making sure it was happy. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Right, yeah.” Sylvie nodded understandingly. Kim thought she had ruined the night, but then Sylvie’s eyes were sparkling again.

“What about a cat? We just responded to this cat sanctuary place last shift—one of their workers got woozy—and oh it is just so precious. The cats were all so cute, and they’re rescues and the owner was saying how they need more people to adopt them. All we’d need to do is get toys and set up a nice play area in your apartment to make sure they’re happy while you’re at work and oh you could get an automatic cat feeder and it’s perfect. And the owner said so many of them just wants love and cuddles and just a home.”

Kim frowned slightly. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a cat before.”

“Come and visit with me this weekend. Meet the little kitties, see for yourself. Come on, Kim. They need love, you need love... It’s a match made in heaven.” Sylvie had continued, looking so earnest at her.

And that’s how Kim found herself, on her day off, standing in a cat sanctuary, about to adopt a furry new friend.

The workers at the sanctuary had immediately greeted Sylvie with big smiles and sing-song hellos. The paramedic clearly had left a lasting impression on them, which, honestly, Kim got. Sylvie just has that effect on people.

“This is Kim,” Sylvie had introduced her, and then before she could even react, Sylvie was filling them in on everything, of exactly why they were there. Kim found herself feeling immediately annoyed at the blonde; she’s not exactly in a great place in her life and she isn’t exactly thrilled at it being broadcasted.

But the workers had been considerate, nice. They asked Kim questions about herself, about her home, about her wants and capabilities and advised her on everything she’d need to get and what she should expect, understating it all with that she had to actually want this, want the responsibility of another living being beyond just her own sadness.

Then they had told them to look around, standing back as they did so, giving them space while not being too far away.

Honestly, Kim was convinced she was just doing this to humour Sylvie. But somewhere along the line, between them getting there and the workers talking to them, and walking among the fluffy balls of cuteness, Kim found herself warming more and more up to the idea.

And then she saw him. A beautiful mix of white, brown and ginger, long-haired, especially around his neck and upper back, the only part of him, really, that was the ginger bit. He had sharp eyes, and when they met with her own, he flopped down looking adorably playful and Kim hadn’t ever really spent much time around cats but she couldn’t help but think that was his way of greeting her.

She never put much credence in love at first sight, especially after the closest thing she had to it imploded, but looking at that cat for the very first time, Kim immediately fell in love.

And she’d like to think he did too, that he didn’t just react like that to any old person, that he immediately saw her as his human.

The worker who was with them—Greta, her name tag said—clocked on instantly to the connection, and when Kim cooed at him, she jumped straight into action.

“That’s Roman. His previous owner was a history professor, and thought his fluff reminded them of Roman helmets. I don’t personally see it, but he’s a funny little dude and it suits him. Him being long-haired does seem to be putting a lot of people off, unfortunately, though but he’s just so precious.” Great informed her.

Kim faltered.

“Roman?” She repeated, unable to stop the frown that appeared on her face. Her eyes found Sylvie.

“We know someone called that—well his surname. And he’s an asshole,” Sylvie explains to Greta. “Come on, Kim, there’s other cats.”

Kim looked away from Sylvie then, and back at the cat—at Roman. There was a conflict in her; there was the association to the partner from hell that she’d very much like to forget, and Sylvie was right, there were other cats but...but Kim knew that her heart wanted this cat, that for whatever reason there was a kinship with this cat and that something as silly as a name wasn’t going to put her off.

Not when in the first time in ages, Kim felt like she might actually survive this.

“No, tell me more about him. It’s alright; I called him Sean a lot anyway. And this Roman is so much more of a nicer association for the name.” Kim said, and that was that. Roman the cat was hers.

Of course it wasn’t that simple. There was paperwork to sort out, a vetting the sanctuary had to do, and then Kim had to go and buy things for him—something she may have gone a little overboard on—and so much other things but he was hers.

And finally, her life had a little more light in it.

Kim and Roman settle into a routine before long.

Roman takes a little while to fully adjust to his new home with her, but after the first couple of days, even when he still hadn’t fully settled in yet, Kim would be immediately greeted by a little meow and a cat winding between her feet as soon as she got home.

More than anything probably because she’s the food provider, but he lets her give him a little fuss behind the ears when she walks through the door and after they have their respective dinners, they cuddle on the couch.

She had brought him a rather nice cat bed, and he does use it, uses the three different ones that somehow just keeps appearing in her home, along with more toys every time Kim goes shopping, but at night, he curls up beside her on her bed.

And Kim begins looking forward to coming home again. And for that, she is so glad that she took Sylvie upon her offer that day—even when it’s 3am and Roman is waking her up from much needed sleep for the third time that week for, as far as Kim can tell, no particularly reason.

She doesn’t exactly go broadcasting the fact she’s got a cat now, obviously, because it’s not really ground breaking news. But she does mention it to some people, just casually, and Kim expected that to be that.

It’s not, exactly. The district is a gossipy place, and it really can be unpredictable what is decided to be the new hottest piece of gossip, and Kim’s definitely been the source of that gossip a few times, but she didn’t really expect the fact she’s gotten a new cat to be that juicy that it spreads to everyone.

It even spreads up to intelligence, as Kevin asks her about it one day.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, sounding uncharacteristically hurt. It spreads around in the first few weeks of getting him, Kim still making sure he was adjusting, so she hadn’t had much time to talk to her best friend and so no time to catch him up with her life, especially when she’s been giving Adam space, and she knew that he’d need to lean on Kev and she never wants to make him feel like he has to chose sides.

It’s still never great hearing something new about your friend from district chatter, so she got his hurt to a certain degree, but it had taken her back a little bit.

“I didn’t think it was necessary—you would’ve found out eventually,” Kim answered him, confused. Even as she said the words, she knew it wasn’t exactly the best phrasing. Kevin—all the Atwaters—are an important part of her life and she realised that maybe with her break up with Adam he was wondering if she was ditching him too. To reassure him nothing had changed between them, she added;

“But now I’ve got you—do you want to come over soon? With Jordan and Vinessa, introduce them to him?”

Kevin’s expression is unreadable. “You want to my siblings to meet him?”

Between his expression and his tone, Kim just gets confused more. “Yeah? They’ll really love him. And I thought since he’s my family, and you’re—and they’re—my family that you’d—”

“That I’d want my siblings to meet him? Be a happy family?” Kevin interrupts her. “Look, Kim, I’m happy you’re happy. I am, you know I love you. But I’m just... Adam’s not doing well, at all, and I just think I need a bit of time before... that.”

If Kim hadn’t already been grateful for having Roman in her life, she would be then. There’s one thing putting some space between them for Adam’s sake, and maybe it’s because Kim feared Kevin wouldn’t understand, that if they gave him the option to choose a side, he wouldn’t choose her, not when Adam’s his brother, but Kim still—probably naïvely—thought that Kevin wouldn’t, that he wouldn’t choose a side.

And she suddenly didn’t expect him to choose a side without her asking him too.

“That’s fine.” Kim tried to smile and not let her own hurt show. “I have Roman, now, so yeah. Take time, whatever.”

It’s that day that when she got home, Roman first saw her cry. She hadn’t cried since getting him, but Kevin was the first person she ever truly felt was her family, someone in her peer bracket and loved her, and it hurt her deep that he didn’t choose her.

She didn’t want him to not choose Adam, Kim still loves Adam, and knows that Adam needs support and Kevin is both of their best friend, but she hoped that Kevin would still recognise she needed support—that Kevin is still her brother, that whatever happens between her and Adam, their respective relationships with him exists outside of that.

Instead Kim just wonders if this is confirmation of all her insecurities, her worries that saw how her boys bonded and the insecure girl inside of her worrying that Adam preferred working with Kev over her and that Kevin preferred Adam as a friend.

Roman is concerned for Kim, first pawing at her and when that didn’t work, he played with the toy that always makes Kim stop what she’s doing to coo at him and when that even didn’t work, he just curled up beside her.

“It’s just me and you,” Kim murmured at him, softly stroking his fur, comforted by the warm softness of it. “Just me and you.”

Life does get more bearable after that day.

It takes a while for her not to get that aching hurt in her chest, about Kevin choosing Adam over her, but she adapts. Just like she adapts to no longer being engaged, to her heart not hurting so much over that as well.

Kim quickly learns that she still loves Adam, that she’ll still miss him. That they’ll be days where she wishes for his smile, or his advice or nights where she’ll wake up from a bad dream and instinctively reach for him, wanting him to encase her in his arms, in a hug that smells like him and feels like love and safety.

And she quickly learns that unlike her previous relationships, she’s not going to fall out of love with him any time soon, that a part of her may very well always love him and that it’ll probably be a while before she’ll ever be able to think about dating again, let alone dating seriously.

But she learns that it gets easier to live with. She grieves their relationship, the relationship it was as well as what she wanted it to be, and through that she stops bargaining with herself, stops telling herself to lower her wants just for those times she misses him, that it had to be done.

And she stops wishing for all the ways the past should’ve gone and started just focusing on the future.

At work, Kim gets a new partner—Julie Tay—and they immediately get along like a house on fire. Kim never thought she’d find another partner as perfect as Kevin—Atwater, Adam is Ruzek, Kevin is Atwater, she’s taken up to telling herself—but Tay is pretty perfect herself. Exactly the kind of person Kim needs for where she is now, and that also helps take away the sting of Kevin choosing Adam.

Life gets into a new rhythm. It’s not like how her life used to be, but it’s how her life is, and she realises that she likes it. She has her cat, she has Tay, and everything just feels settled, that everything just feels easy again.

Sure, there’s no high drama or adrenaline in her life—beyond patrol chases—that everything feels very routine and that the height of her happiness comes from snuggling with Roman and a tub of ice cream on the couch, and there’s a case to be made that Kim prefers life when it’s a little bit more exciting, when there’s high emotions all around because yeah that means dealing with a rollercoaster of irrational emotions but it means that she’s not shutting herself off from feeling things, shutting herself away from experiences but after her past year, Kim is just ready to have it easy for a bit.

Before she knows it, almost in a blink of an eye, Kim’s had Roman for a little over half a year and it feels like a lifetime, life has settled that much.

She comes into work one day, after a hellish weekend of Roman being sick—nothing too serious, just enough to cost her a bill from her vet and a weekend of no sleep—and she knows she looks a mess. And so she mentions this, that she’s been looking after Roman all weekend, when she sees some of her co-workers give her a look that day.

Yet again, she expects it to not be so much of a big deal, but her fellow officers really are lovely people, and several times over the next week or so, Kim gets several of them asking after him. It’s nice at first—even if it’s somewhat baffling, especially the person who gives her flowers for him.

That one she had been confused at.

“Thanks,” she said. “They’re lovely, but he’ll probably just try and eat them,”

After she said that, the officer had the audacity to look at her funny.

By the time a week had gone past, Kim had officially reached her limit. She gets concern, and it’s lovely, but Roman has bounced right back now and she wonders why everyone is so concerned—especially when she has heard barely anything about an officer in another district who had gotten shot.

It’s Garcia that she finally loses her last straw with.

“How’s Roman doing?” He asks her and she normally likes the officer, but she’s beyond confused now and honestly just wishes that everyone would stop wondering about her cat, that surely she can’t always be the most interesting piece of gossip around.

“He’s okay! Having the time of his life pissing in my bathroom and eating damn flowers, stop asking! It was just a minor thing!” At what she bursts out saying, a few more officers nearby turning to look at them, Garcia frowns, looking rather confused himself.

“I though he was in ICU?”

Kim’s mind momentarily blanks at that, not in the slightest prepared to deal with how ridiculous gossip at the district can get, that information will pass from one lip to another and somehow get distorted to her cat being in ICU and she doesn’t even fully process the first thing that she says before it’s out her own lips.

“Do they even have ICU for cats?”

Garcia blinks. “Cats?”

And that is when Kim learns that for the past six months or so, everyone had thought she was dating Sean Roman, her asshole ex-partner.

Her asshole ex-partner who was recently just shot.

Naturally, the truth that Kim has a cat called Roman, and is not dating Sean Roman, isn’t spread around even a quarter as fast as the opposite was, and two days later Kim is still being asked, repeatedly, about Roman the human.

And even when Kim corrects them, they all pull the same kind of look at asks her if she’s sure—like she really doesn’t know who is and isn’t in her bed. Even Platt looks at her a little doubtfully.

Tay finds this all hilarious.

She finds it even more hilarious when on the third day, Kim walks into the district holding her pet carrier with a very confused Roman sitting in it. She hadn’t exactly been thrilled about having to take in Roman—although once he realised they weren’t at the vets, he seemed more calm—but needs must. Kim puts the pet carrier on Platt’s desk.

“Sarge, this is my cat, Roman. Proof I am very much not dating my ex-partner but that I am instead a dedicated cat mother. Now if you’ll allow it, I’d appreciate some time to go round and introduce my fluffy boy to the rest of the officers because I am ending this rumour, once and for all.”

Platt has had a range of different reactions to Kim’s demands before, and she never knows exactly how the desk sergeant is going to react. But today she knew it was going to be one of two ways; either Platt was going to tell her to get the fuck out and return cat-less, or she was going to find it all very amusing and let her continue.

Kim had hoped and hoped all morning that it would be the latter.

Luckily, it is.

“On you go, Burgess.” Platt had chuckled, a rare compliment in itself. “I’ve got to say, I’m relieved your brains aren’t totally useless, I thought you had better taste. And this Roman is an improvement on the previous one.”

It sounds like a compliment, but Kim doesn’t quite know what to think about Platt thinking she was dating Sean and very uncharacteristically not saying anything about it to her? There’s no time to dwell on that, however, she has a record to correct.

Even with her physical cat—and a photocopy of some of his vet records to prove his name—it’s still a frustrating job trying to convince everyone that yes, she’s really not dating Sean and that yes, all she’s mentioned Roman since he left was all about a cat.

Kim didn’t want to stay too long at the district, not wanting to put Roman through too much, but she ends up staying longer than she had planned. She’s giving him a little fuss in the quietness of the locker, checking to see if he seemed too overwhelmed.

“This is my locker,” she coos at her boy, pointing it out. “And right here is where I got engaged. And then un-engaged. Which is why I got you.”

Kim isn’t too sure when she became that person, the person to talk to her pets, but she had. She is just getting more relaxed and less frustrated by the fact that she’s having to do this, at the absolute absurdity of it, when another officer enters the locker room and she’s explaining, again, that she’s not dating Sean Roman.

This officer is being rather obtuse. He crosses his arms, and a look of triumph appears on his face and Kim just knows, knows, that she’s going to hate what he next says. She’s not wrong.

“Then why did he transfer? All you gave us was non answer bull, because you were dating him and you didn’t want everyone to know you’re a badge bunny. C’mon, Burgess. We all know you wanted to get into intelligence, fucking that Ruzek didn’t give you that, so you moved on to your partner. It’s fine, no one is judging you.”

“Excuse me?” The officer is lucky that she’s still holding Roman, otherwise she wouldn’t be accountable for her actions, that she’d be tempted to go for him. But as she’s holding her cat, she just enthuses her words with as much spite as she could without being too loud to not startle Roman.

“Get this through your head. I. Am. Not. Dating. Sean. Fucking. Roman.” Kim practically growls. Roman licks her chin. “And I didn’t fuck Ruzek, I was engaged to him, there’s a big fucking difference. And why we split has nothing to do with work, intelligence or any of your business. And fucking a cop, or two, or more, wouldn’t make me a badge bunny—it just means like every other profession, your colleagues are also your peers.

“And for why my old partner transferred? Because he wanted more and I didn’t and he was so fucking cowardly that he couldn’t just continue here or not make a big deal over it—and if you want a badge bunny, there he is. Because he has the record for seeing his partners as eligible romantic options not fellow officers and then running away, not me. Now get the fuck out of my face and I might consider not telling Sergeant Platt that she has a sexist officer.”

Kim has no intention of not telling Platt, but it’s worth saying it just to watch the officer’s face pale and watch him leave hastily. She immediately breathes out when she does so, smiling at Roman as he licks her chin again.

“Kim?” She looks up from her cat, to see Kevin—Atwater—standing in the locker room, looking at her with a sheepish and apologetic expression.

“I heard what he said to you—if you need a co-witness for your statement to Platt.” He tells her and Kim gets an ache in her heart at Kevin still knowing her so well that he knows, despite what she said, that she’ll be reporting the officer.

“Thank you.” Kim gives him a small smile, hoping that maybe there’s a way for them to fix the split between them. There’s a bit of an awkward silence so Kim approaches the pet carrier again.

“Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair now.” She says. She would’ve put Roman back in to the carrier then, but he stubbornly refused.

“No—I came in here to see you. I wanted to talk.” Kevin stops her anyway. “Well, rather apologize. I didn’t realise you had gotten a cat that day when I—”

Kim immediately gets what he is saying, a dawning realisation falling upon her.

“And you thought I was dating Sean, too. Right after breaking up with Adam.” Everything Kim said comes rushing back to her. “And thought I was telling you I wanted out families aka my new boyfriend to mix, when Adam is still hurting and is your best friend.”

“Exactly. I’m sorry, Burg. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Kim is shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you’re still my family, and that your siblings would probably love to fuss over a cat I didn’t think about phrasing. I’m just happy you didn’t choose Adam over me—I thought... I thought you loved him more,”

“Come here,” Kevin holds out his arms and Kim immediately goes in for the hug despite the cat occupying her arms. “Adam’s my bro, but you’re my sister. I could never choose between you.”

Roman squirms so they end the hug sooner than they probably would’ve, but Kim already feels so much lighter. She smiles, properly this time, at him.

“So then, do you want to bring Jordan and Vinessa over to meet my very cute cat? I’ll give them some treats to give him and he’ll love them forever,” Kim asks him again and Kevin smiles back.

“I’d love that.”

Kevin then pauses, frowning a little. “Have you talked to Adam?”

“... Not since the break up.” Kim shook her head.

“You should. Or I could, if you don’t want to see him. Just—he also thinks you’ve been dating Roman—the human Roman. And he’s not been dealing well with it at all.”

Kim’s heart immediately twists painfully.

Adam.

It’s been hard for her to remember that gossip reaches Intelligence’s ears all the same, and that Adam would hear things, things about her, that she doesn’t tell him. From basically the beginning, Adam’s always heard things through her telling him, usually the first one to find out—that is, until they broke up. But still it is a foreign concept for Kim to get her head around, that just because he’s not hers anymore, because they’re not together, it doesn’t mean that he somehow is blocked from ever finding out things about her, that just because she’s not telling him doesn’t mean someone isn’t.

Her heart aches. Aches because she should’ve realised, aches because she didn’t.

It’s been six months of an easy life, of low pressure and just existing, living in a peaceful bubble of just Roman and her, of healing and processing and moving on and a lot of that involved pushing Adam out of her mind, and it’s been good to Kim.

But that bubble bursts now. And Kim hurts—hurts because Adam hurts, because she’s always hurt when he does, and she hurts because it hits her then—she’s healed, and she still so achingly wants Adam.

Kim wonders how this little road trip would’ve gone back then. Would their hands have been entwined? Would they be flirting and joking and teasing each other ever so slightly making them want to get to the hotel as soon as possible? Would they be a little unprofessional and make their trip slightly longer by stopping on the country roads and stretching their legs, just to get a little more time together?

When Voight told them that they were the ones to be sent upstate to go interrogate someone picked up by another town’s pd who fits their perp description, would they have smiled? Share a secret look between them and get excited for the time together?

None of the awkward look they both gave, or how they both clamoured quickly to try and talk Voight out of it, ignoring the intrigued looks from the rest of their team. And when Voight inevitably told them to shut up and stop complaining, they’d have been none of the awkward silence in the car, none of the tense small talk they stumbled through before eventually putting the radio on a station neither really likes so there was just something they could use as an excuse not to talk.

The radio is playing some song from the sixties, and it’s reminding Kim of something from her childhood. For a moment, she forgets about everything, about how she wishes she was anywhere but here, about how the car feels too small or her annoyance at the traffic jam they spent two hours stuck in.

Instead, she just smiles at the memory of being at her grandparents in the summer, and it makes her heart all fuzzy and warm—because her grandparents, to Kim, is what love is—and she’s half way through opening her mouth to tell Hailey about it, the need to share this happy memory with the woman she—no—with Hailey surging, when she remembers everything and she snaps her mouth shut, turning back to looking out the window at the flat, boring fields.

Kim is all ready to forget her near-blunder; that she nearly broke the heavy silence hanging over them, and the unspoken rule that neither one of them wants to have eye contact, let alone sharing cute stories from childhood. But Voight isn’t the only one in the unit who’s observant, because Hailey—Hailey, being the amazing detective she is, Hailey, being the amazing human she is, for not being how Kim would be if she was driving, knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the road ahead—clocks onto Kim’s open and then decidedly not open mouth.

“This is ridiculous.” Hailey snaps, taking one hand off the wheel so she can deftly turn off the radio, making the car descend into deafening silence.

Hailey is not one to snap, only ever at criminals but this isn’t that Hailey, isn’t interrogating Hailey. It’s more like an agitated mother on a road trip snapping at her rambunctious children and Kim hates herself for the imagery it immediately brings to her mind.

Of Hailey, a few years older than now, blonde hair tied up, wedding ring on her finger, driving three unruly children to their holiday. Three children with a mixture of looks, of brunette and blonde, or blue eyes and brown, of a strong Greek look or an Italian one.

It’s the kind of imagery that got her into this mess; the kind of imagery that makes her heart race and her breath quicken, the kind of imagery that makes her yearn for a future that looks like that, a future of two Mrs Uptons, or Burgess’, or maybe even a new surname that’s just theirs, and a handful of kids who may not even be all related by blood but are so clearly family.

The kind of imagery Kim hates that her heart still craves, even after six weeks of this mess between then, of six weeks of awkward glances and stumbling words. Even weeks after it was made clear this kind of future was not in the cards for them.

“What were you about to say?” Hailey asks, her tone laced with frustration, a few long seconds later. Kim wonders if she was meant to say something after Hailey shut off the radio, if the expectation is that she’d say something, anything, even if it was just to tell Hailey to shut up. That Hailey took so long to continue after snapping because she was waiting for Kim to say something, to yell or show any verbal acknowledgement of the blonde beside her, until it became obvious Kim had no intention to.

“Nothing.” Kim knows that’s an annoying response, even before Hailey sighed. It’s petty, but as much as Kim said it because she has no intention in letting Hailey know she wants to share warm fuzzy memories with her, she also said it because she knows it’s annoying. Her heart is a mess, in shambles and confused, and Kim has quick learnt that when it comes to Hailey, apparently she likes being a petty person.

“Kim.” Hailey sounds so exasperated and the idyllic family future springs back into Kim’s mind, and Kim knows that she’s going to be even more stubborn, trying to shut those thoughts out of her head as much as possible.

“This is so ridiculous,” Hailey repeats herself. Her voice is tired, and Kim wonders if she looked at her—which she’s stubbornly not, keeping her eyes fixated out of the window—she’d see the tiredness on Hailey’s face. The thought makes her heart pang, because Hailey’s face should only be smiling, or contorted in pleasure, or even that frankly hot intimidating expression she tends to pull in interrogations, but never tired.

“It’s been six weeks. We need to talk, get passed this.” Hailey pauses, clearly looking for a response in Kim, but Kim refuses to give her one. “Kim, we shouldn’t have to listen to music that we both hate just because we’re having to partner up at work. Before all this, we used to be friends, didn’t we? Can’t we just go back to that?”

Friends.

The word stings more than Kim would want it to. Even more as Kim realises, as soon as that word drops from Hailey’s—(kissable)—lips and it feels like a bucket of cold water has been chucked over her, that she was starting to wonder if she should give in to this silent tug of war, the silent battle of wills between them of acting like they care less than the other. That she was starting to wonder if she should just lay everything out, and hope to god that Hailey listens.

But then Hailey said friends and Kim is reminded once more of what got them into this mess, that they want different things. That there’s no point in telling Hailey how much she loves her, that she wants to spend the rest of her life with her, that Hailey is her sun, that Kim is the moon to her earth. Because Hailey doesn’t want a relationship like that, not now, and Kim’s wondering if ever, at least not with her. There’s no point in Kim embarrassing herself further, not when Hailey wants to go back to being friends.

Not when Kim decidedly does not want to be her friend.

“Kim? We can still be friends, right?” Hailey’s voice sounds uncharacteristically quiet, reminiscent of their late night chats after they fucked each other’s brains out, and all Kim wants to do is pull her closer. But Hailey then lightly touches her arm to get her attention, and it’s like an electric shock to the system and Kim’s practically jumping out of her skin, pulling far away from Hailey as the car allows.

Kim pretends she doesn’t see the flash of hurt on Hailey’s face at that.

“Sure,” Kim manages to get out after it’s clearly getting too long after Hailey has spoke again. Saying the one syllable word feels like eating ground glass, and the way her voice sounds almost strangled Kim knows that Hailey must have doubts about the sincerity, but the blonde gives her a half-hearted smile nevertheless.

The smile shoots little sharp knives into her heart, but Kim pretends that she doesn’t feel like she’s dying. She’s already told the blonde she loves her and got nothing in return, she wants to maintain some dignity.

Being friends is harder than just saying so, something they quickly realise only a few minutes after agreeing to try.

Neither seemed to really know what they wanted to say to each other, words being stumbled over each other again. Normally, when making friends again once more with someone—not that Kim had done so, really, since she was a kid—you focus on catching up the other on parts of your life they had missed, but Kim wasn’t inclined to want to catch Hailey up, not ready to talk to her like there isn’t an aching gap in her heart and by the way Hailey didn’t as well, Kim got that she didn’t fancy doing so either. The reasons for why most likely differing from her own, since Hailey was the one who proposed they go back to being friends, so it’s not like her heart has been ripped out of her chest like Kim’s has.

The radio was soon put back on, and that’s the way the rest of the journey to the medium-small sized Illinois town remained. It’s late by the time they get there, and they only have time for an introduction to the pd detectives assigned to show them around. Detectives Moran and Jameson are perfectly nice people, and they clearly have a good, smooth running partnership—it reminds Kim of Hailey’s with Jay, a thought that made her feel all bitter and sour inside, like any time Kim sees them two together does—and Kim feels bad that she doesn’t feel much like herself, ending the evening a lot sooner than she would ordinarily.

They had given them a quick tour of their precinct, and shown them to the motel they’ll be staying out—a one bedroom with twin beds, naturally, because the world hates her—and then took them out for a meal and some wine at a mid-level restaurant a walk away from the motel.

The detectives are good company, and Kim at times found herself getting lost in the present, in their jokes and stories, forgetting about the awkwardness she felt at the blonde sitting next to her—sitting way too close, although even if Hailey was on the other side of the room it still would feel too close—Kim will give them that.

But the time ticked on, and Kim became more and more aware that she was going to have to try and sleep in a room where Hailey lays three feet away, and try not to think about how much she wishes that they’d be pushing the beds together, and curling up close, so close that she wouldn’t know where she ended and Hailey began, so close that their respective smells would mix together; a sweet smell that reminds Kim of love and safety, of being home. And she knew that she needed to leave the restaurant, get some cool air on her too-hot skin before having to sleep.

Kim waited until Hailey was in the middle of telling Moran and Jameson about an arrest she made back in robbery and homicide to stand up, gulping down the rest of her wine, and politely excused herself.

“Oh, I’ll come with you,” Hailey offered, as if she wasn’t in the middle of a story. The lighting in the restaurant made her eyes seem even more blue, and Kim nearly just agreed because of the beauty of them. Luckily she managed to swallow down her agreement, pulling on a too-tense smile on her face.

“That’s okay. Finish. I’ll see you later—if I’m still awake, friend.” It’s petty, Kim knows, to add on the friend, but she could see Hailey gearing up to protest and somehow Kim just knew saying that would make her pause.

Kim wondered if it’s because Hailey knows that the word is like twisting a knife in her own heart, and a part of her wishes she does know how much she’s hurting, just to be seen, to be understood, even if a larger part of her very much does not want the humiliation of the woman who doesn’t love her back to know how desperate she is for her.

Sleeping, Kim is finding, however, is still incredibly hard to do even without the presence of the blonde in the room.

The smell of Hailey’s perfume still lingers in the air, and it reminds Kim of how her apartment no longer smells like that, that all traces of Hailey has faded, that she doesn’t even have any of her clothes still lying around the house because after everything, Kim packed it all up in a box and left it outside Hailey’s apartment in a fit to make herself appear less desperate, less needy after her—second—impromptu love confession.

And as if that wasn’t enough to ensure sleep wouldn’t be coming, Kim’s mind was racing about the implications of Hailey taking the bed closest to the door. Logically, Kim knows it’s just because Hailey entered first, or maybe just out of politeness. But Kim can’t get the image of Hailey almost meaningfully setting her bag down on the bed, claiming it as hers, that it was almost protective, that she wanted the bed closest to the door as of to protect Kim from any intruders.

As unrestful it makes her mind, it’s a better thought than the one that Hailey wanted the bed closest to the door so that she could get away from Kim as soon as possible.

Really, Kim should’ve expected this. That sleep would be too far away to grasp, that her mind would feel alert, too alert. Even when she’s in her own bed, sleep fails to come to her, the events that led to her having an empty space beside her replaying in her head over and over.

It does so now, too, the memories feeling even stronger with the smell of Hailey lingering in the air. It makes the moment Kim slept with Adam, that stupid fucking moment, and Hailey walking in to see them in bed together feel more real; the scent of Hailey had still lingered in her room then too.

Kim knows that what she did, sleeping with Adam, wasn’t cheating. They weren’t exclusive, they weren’t even together. They were just fucking. That’s what they agreed on when it started, that they were just fuck buddies, friends with benefits, stress relief. And who cares if the lines got blurred, if they were spending more time going out to eat, just the two of them—never called dates, though—or that there was days they’d have no sex and just cuddle and sleep, that there was basically no day—night—they didn’t spend apart. They weren’t exclusive, and they weren’t dating.

That was made perfectly clear, when Hailey was cuddled up in her arms, and Kim was feeling so, so happy and so, so in love that she let those words tumble from her lips. I love you.

That was made perfectly clear when Hailey completely froze, and then when she was tearing herself from Kim’s arms, getting up from her bed and hastily pulling on her clothes, stumbling out some excuse about early starts and how she should go home.

That was made perfectly clear when Kim tried to stop her, tried to remind her that they can drive in together, and that it doesn’t matter if Hailey doesn’t say it back.

That was made perfectly clear when Hailey snapped back, saying that it does matter, because Kim had clearly forgotten the rules, that they were just fucking and that’s that and they never should’ve started sleeping over.

There is no reason why Kim should feel as if sleeping with Adam was like cheating on Hailey, not after that reminder. The one shittiness should just be that it happened the very next night, and even then, if they were just fucking why should it matter if Kim sleeps with someone else?

Honestly, Kim should only feel bad about using Adam like that. For drinking with him that Friday night, and inviting him back to hers. For using him to make herself feel better, using him to make herself feel like she doesn’t love Hailey, that she doesn’t want to be with her, and she doesn’t care about the words Hailey snapped back at her, or the way Hailey steadfastly avoided her all day—and for using him to mentally say fuck you to Hailey, for using him to get back at the jealousy Kim felt at seeing Hailey joke and laugh—flirt—with Jay that whole day, all while she felt like she was dying.

And she does, feel bad. Adam was a whole gentleman about the whole thing, didn’t pry or get upset or make anything more awkward for them when Hailey walked into Kim’s bedroom that Saturday morning, holding an apology coffee from their favourite place. He didn’t question their excuses that Hailey’s clearly hurt face was just because they had plans that day, and Kim had forgotten and had deftly gotten the fuck out of her apartment, clearly sensing the two needed to talk. He had only sent a text to her later that day, asking if she wants to talk about it, and when she replied with no he respected that.

The fact that Kim can have such a good friendship with her ex-fiancé should give her hope that one day Hailey and her can be friends, but it doesn’t, because there’s nothing Kim hates more then the thought of just being Hailey’s friend, not when she wants so much more, much more than she ever—if she is honest—wanted with Adam.

It’s Kim’s fault, really. She shouldn’t have told Hailey that she loves her, and she definitely shouldn’t have repeated it that Saturday morning, telling Hailey that she has all the rights to go fuck someone else after Hailey left her after she told her how she felt, and that she wasn’t wrong of her to expect that maybe, just maybe, that might change things.

Kim should’ve just let them continue with their comfortable routine of ignoring what was growing between them—or rather, ignoring what Kim thought was growing, because clearly it was only on her side. And no matter Kim wants to say that they should just go back to that, they can’t, not now. The words are like toothpaste, once it’s out there, there’s no getting it back in.

Their only options now are either being together or being friends. And Hailey’s made it clear that the former isn’t on the table, but the latter makes Kim feel sick to her stomach. The thought of only having Hailey in her life as a friend is not one she can stomach, that she’d rather not have her in it at all because the thought of acting like her heart isn’t breaking, that she isn’t in love with her friend, is too much for Kim to bear.

“Kim? Kim are you awake?” Hailey’s whisper comes not too long after Kim hears the room’s door open. Her eyes are shut, and have been ever since she got into the stiff bed, and so she doesn’t know how long it’s been since she left the restaurant. It doesn’t feel like long, but it also feels like it was forever. Time has no meaning whenever Hailey is concerned for her.

Despite being awake, Kim keeps her eyes closed and pretends not to be. She doesn’t know what Hailey wants, but she doesn’t intend on finding out. She tries to keep her breathing, all too aware that this is a woman with chronic insomnia, and so definitely has seen her sleep before.

“I just wanted to say—oh nevermind.” Hailey goes to say, almost as if she knows that Kim wouldn’t respond even if she is awake, and when she cuts herself off, Kim nearly opens her eyes and turns to face her, immediately wanting to know what she was going to say.

But curiosity killed the cat, and Kim’s already taken too many hits to her pride, so she remains still, keeping up the sleep rouse. All while knowing that there’s now one more thing that’ll be keeping her up.

“Voight gave us the all clear to stay. Told us to stay as long as we need, no hurry. Ordered us, really. He doesn’t want to potentially jeopardize this case if he’s our guy, and thinks we should ride it out, alone, to continue building the rapport.” Kim walks back into their motel room, sliding her phone back into her pocket. She tries to take the bitterness at Voight’s answer out of her voice, tries to make it sound not like as if she’s just received the worst news ever, but she knows she failed miserably.

Upon spending one day here, the only day they were meant to stay, they quickly realised that their possible man is going to take his sweet time cracking, and so they realised they would need to ask Voight for an extension. Kim had volunteered to call him, and there was a not small part of her that hoped that he’d tell them to come home. That he’d go with them taking the guy back to Chicago, so they can continue with the rest of the unit.

But no. No, Voight just had to have faith in them.

Kim is really beginning to think there’s credence in her theory that Voight likes to think up new and inventive ways to punish them for dragging personal issues until the unit.

She just really hopes that he hasn’t guessed all the details of what happened between Hailey and her. That he—shiver—hasn’t figured out that they were sleeping together. The thought of Voight having any inclination of her sex life... It’s one that makes Kim cringe inside and get the urge to never be able look him in the eye again.

“I thought he’d say that.” Hailey isn’t one to gloat, or be smug—not maliciously, anyway, since Kim definitely knows she can be smug. Like when she manages to give Kim the best orgasms of her life, or can make her feel so needy and desperate for her with just one look—but Kim can’t help hear a smug tone to her words. It’s in her imagination, but it doesn’t make Kim feel any less irrationally annoyed.

“Yeah, well I guess that’s why you’re the detective,” Kim’s words are petty, dry in a way that’s too uncalled for, she knows this, even as she says it. She’s busing herself sorting her bed out in anticipation for sleep, saying the words so casually, so casually passive aggressive in a way Kim cringes at inside. If not because Hailey really doesn’t deserve it—she’s been very mature, and has made an effort to be more friendly today after their agreement to be friends, and it’s not her fault she doesn’t return Kim’s feelings—but because it reveals too much about how Kim’s really feeling then she wants to let Hailey know.

But Kim feels so messy inside, a jumble of emotions coursing through her all hours of the day, only amplified whenever the blonde is near her, or in her eyeshot. It’s making her more irritable, more bitter, more jealous.

Especially after their agreement to be friends. Kim doesn’t know why, it should make it better that at least she has an answer to how Hailey wishes to go forward, even if it’s not the same as what she wants, but Kim’s never claimed to be an expert in emotions—especially her own.

And it’s making her hear tones in Hailey’s voice that is uncharacteristically her, and sending her mind into overdrive. Like earlier that day, when Hailey introduced her to the perp as officer Kim Burgess, all Kim heard was an emphasis on her title, in direct comparison to Detectives Upton, Moran and Jameson.

All Kim heard was the reminder of one of the many probable reasons to why Hailey doesn’t love her back, why Kim’s only good enough to be a friend.

“What’s that meant to mean?” Hailey’s expression is one of confusion, and she looks so innocent, so precious, that Kim nearly forgets why she feels so upset.

“Nothing.” Kim says too fast to sound believable. “Just pointing out a fact. You’re the detective.”

The addition didn’t make Kim sound any less bothered, and while it felt satisfying at first to make the quip—even if it was a response to a transgression made up in her head—Kim’s frantically panicking inside now at Hailey realising her insecurities, not wanting to appear that vulnerable to the woman who rejected her.

Kim spots a Chinese takeout menu sitting on the bedside table between their respective beds. She grabs it. “This seem good for dinner?”

“Kim,” Hailey begins slowly. “We’ve already eaten dinner. Like right before you phoned Voight.”

Shit. Cursing herself, Kim wonders if she could believably feign early on-set dementia in order to get out of this with some dignity.

“Okay, we’re going to talk about this. Sit.” Hailey fixes her a look often given to eyewitnesses who are hiding important details. She sits down on her bed, indicating Kim to do the same on hers. The last thing Kim wants to do is sit and talk but she can’t not obey when Hailey’s looking at her like that.

Yesterday’s dream of the future family she wants them to have pops back into her mind, this time picturing Hailey sitting down the children, a broken vase or bowl swept up, telling them she’s not mad, she just wants to talk, to discuss playing safely or something domestic like that.

She really, really needs to get a grip on herself.

“Do we have a problem?” Hailey asks and Kim has to bite back the scoff, because problem barely begins to describe what Kim feels, and because it’s less of a we and more just like I, because Hailey is clearly coping with this whole thing so much more easier—which makes sense, since she hasn’t lost anything, not like Kim who lost everything she thought she was gaining.

“I’m just tired.” She offers as an excuse. Kim wanted to continue to deny that there wasn’t something up, but it’s clearly not going to fly, so instead of digging in her heels, she tries to act like it’s just grumpiness.

Hailey’s expression twists a little, and Kim can see her gearing up to prod some more—Hailey had gotten really good at reading her, even if it isn’t obvious that there’s something deeper beneath the surface going on.

“Really. Pay me no mind, I’m just tired. Sorry for being a bit grumpy, it’s just the tiredness.” Kim continues, throwing in an apology before giving Hailey a smile she did not feel. She rises from her bed, making motions to get her bed clothes, ready to continue to brushing off this and hoping Hailey will go along.

“Kim,” Hailey then catches her arm, having also rose. “Talk to me. We agreed to be friends, remember?”

No such luck.

“Yes. We did.” Her voice is clipped. A look then passes across Hailey’s face, like something is dawning on her. Kim panics, her heart thumping too fast in her chest, realising she’s played her cards too open, that Hailey’s going to realise that Kim doesn’t want to be her friend, that Kim wants more.

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t want to be your friend,” The words drop from Kim’s mouth before she can even think them through, her mind shutting down and going into survival mode. Hailey tilts her head slightly, and Kim’s positive that she edges a little closer to her. Something in the back of her mind is going wrong, wrong, wrong like it’s caught onto something the rest of her hasn’t.

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Hailey begins and Kim thinks that surely her heart rate has reached a new record, with how fast it’s beating, like it’s trying to break through her rib cage. “We had fun, right? You know... Before. And I miss you, I miss that fun. I miss my.. my best friend. And I was thinking, the sex part, you know, that isn’t off the table for me. We can still do that. Nothing’s changed there, for me. If you still want me.”

Hailey looks so vulnerable, so open, her tone so soft. She’s so very rarely vulnerable and there’s a part of Kim that is so proud of Hailey for being so, especially when she can tell she was feeling awkward expressing all that, but that part of her is buried under all her emotions, all her hurt feelings, and the ringing in her ears she got after Hailey said best friend, like that’s obviously all Kim can ever be.

“But I don’t want that. I don’t want to be your best friend, or your friend—or anything. We’re not friends, we’re just co-workers, nothing more. And honestly I’d be fine even if we weren’t even that.” Kim’s tone is so much more harsh than she wanted it to be, sounding even more harsh in contrast to Hailey’s soft tone, the words biting coldly.

Hurt covers Hailey’s fault, unable to be hidden, although it doesn’t seem like Hailey even tried, something that just makes Kim feel even worse, making her want to take back the words.

But she doesn’t, focusing on keeping a wall up between them, knowing that she’ll be saving them a world of hurt. Kim can’t be what Hailey wants, she can’t be just a friend, and Hailey can’t be what Kim wants and it’s unfair of them to ask that of each other.

“Right.” The vulnerability disappears, Hailey’s expression going back neutral. Kim ignores the way her heart aches at that, just as much as she ignores the hurt that still lingers in Hailey’s eyes. “Co-workers it is.”

Somehow, this hurt even more than the deafening silence left in Kim’s apartment after Hailey head tailed out of it six weeks ago.

It’s silent in the car when Kim is driving them home three days later.

Hailey is slumped, asleep, in the passenger seat next to her, blonde hair lying half across her face, moving slightly every time she lets out a breath.

It’s the closest they’ve been in days, yet they couldn’t feel further apart.

They’ve spent the past three days standing at least four feet apart at all times, becoming alert and tense whenever one of them accidentally walks by too close. Hailey, naturally, is handling it better, appearing a lot less rattled at Kim’s mere presence that she is, but there’s been an ever-present hurt look in the back of her eyes whenever she ever even glances in Kim’s direction.

It is a miracle, really, that they even managed to get their guy to crack. It shouldn’t surprise Kim, both of them are always cool and in the headspace of just a cop whenever they step foot into an interrogation room, but Kim’s never felt quite like this before.

Or maybe it’s because Kim wishes they weren’t going home, that their man isn’t being processed for prison, that they hadn’t completed what they came here for. If you told her three days ago that she’d be dreading going home, she would never have believed that she could be feeling anything but relief.

But home sounds anything but relieving now.

To be in her own home, where the memories of Hailey lingers in every room. To be around the people who know them best, most of which are highly trained cops with a knack for reading people, and have to act like everything is fine. To being in a place where there’s others who love Hailey, others who can be her friend, and get to bask in the light that is Hailey Upton while Kim watches on because of herself. To be in a place she’s not, even after what’s happened, the person who knows Hailey best, that the last thing they had, the threadbare connection that even if they’re not good, they’re still a team in a sea of strangers.

Being away from home, it felt like hell until home was back on the table.

Away from home, they could be how they are without being scrutinized. They weren’t around people who know them, knows how they usually are. If people could tell that something’s wrong between them, at least they had no right to ask about the details, to get them to open up, to fix things.

Although depending what Jameson pulled her aside to say before they left, Kim’s not too sure if that’s true.

In the four days they had spent in the town, they had gotten to know Moran and Jameson quite well. Like that they don’t only work well together as partners, but that they are together. That they are happy together. Jameson explained how their captain is only allowing them to remain partners because they do good work, but that as soon as they’re married, they’ll have to be split and Kim watched how her eyes lit up at saying that, smiling affectionately at her boyfriend, showing that not only are they happy, but they are both anticipating marriage happening somewhere down the line.

Kim can’t lie and say it didn’t make her jealous.

Hailey had gotten to get to know them better—well, at least, Jameson—however. Kim blames the fact that after the co-worker talk, she had been ending the day and going back to the motel before Hailey, and Hailey had been agreeing to see some of the town’s sights with Moran and Jameson after work.

This also makes Kim feel jealous, even if she knows it’s her fault.

She just hadn’t realised how well they had been getting to know each other, not until Jameson pulled her to one side when Hailey was helping Moran with the paperwork.

“I know this is none of my business,” Jameson had started. “But I’ve noticed things about you and Upton. And well, Hailey’s said some things to me when I’ve asked and I’m not gonna presume to know everything or go get anything—I don’t really know you, after all. But I’ve been where you are. I know Johnny and I, we seem so good now, but we had such a messy start. He was freshly divorced, I had only ever had crappy relationships and my mother isn’t exactly a great role model when it comes them, and we were both so emotionally out of our depth. And I just want to say that all this is doing is wasting time being miserable when you could be happy, and it’s so much better just being open and honest, even if it seems scary or you have no idea how.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting out but it doesn’t apply here.” Kim played dumb, really not wanting to bond with this detective over this, and definitely not wanting to admit that there’s something going on and that she’s miserable.

Jameson just gave her a look which clearly said everything she thought about that.

“I’m just saying that honesty is the best policy for a reason. And communication, it works. I can tell that you—both of you—you’ve got your own personal issues, that you don’t know how to be vulnerable or to let yourself be vulnerable, but one person who used to be like that to another, please try.”

“Yeah, I’ve tried that. Didn’t work.” Kim slipped, but she couldn’t help it, not when Jameson was telling her to do something she already did—when she told Hailey that she loves her and was met with silence.

Jameson gave her another look.

“Did you? Truly? I’m just basing this on what I’ve seen and what little Hailey’s said... I think it’s worth a try, being truly open. The worst case scenario is you get rejected, but something tells me that won’t be the outcome.”

Now, as Kim drives home, Jameson’s words is all she can think of.

Kim knows, knows, that talking isn’t something she’s particularly great at. She was getting better at it, and before everything, her and Hailey was good at it, just as long as they didn’t address what Kim thought was the elephant in the room. And that... That is what gave her the confidence to say that love confession, even if the words just slipped out.

But then when Hailey left, and refused to answer any of her texts or calls, Kim knows a wall went up in her heart. That maybe at the first bump, at the first stumble, Kim returned back to burying all her feelings down, trying to protect herself.

That since then she’s been in survival mode, unable to deal with the hurt she felt, unable to be able to consider going to Hailey and talking through all of this.

For the first time since Hailey said they were just fucking, Kim thinks about what she initially thought when Hailey froze. That she saw it through Hailey’s eyes, a woman Kim knows can be scared of commitment, a woman Kim knows learnt at an early age to never be vulnerable. That she understood that Kim saying the l-word might startle Hailey, might startle that flight or fight reaction in her, that Hailey might feel obligated to say it back and knowing she can’t, she flees.

Kim thinks about how she initially went to assure Hailey, telling her it didn’t matter, that she didn’t have to say it back. All she’s been thinking since is about how in that moment she was panicking to maintain some dignity, but she was also thinking about how to reassure Hailey, to calm the woman she loves from her own panic, from her trauma response.

Somewhere, between then and now, that had gotten lost.

It’s like a lightbulb in Kim’s head, and suddenly she feels very embarrassed, humbled. She remembers everything that’s happened since with a clearer eye, and she sees everything so much less clouded by her own hurt.

Hailey saying she misses her best friend. Misses. That it wasn’t about the title Kim is referred to, friend or not, it was about Hailey telling her that she misses her, that her life has a missing piece without Kim in it.

Hailey asking if they can be friends, that she was asking that if nothing else, can’t they at least try to be friends.

Hailey saying if you still want me. Literally asking Kim if she’s important to her, if she wants her in her life—if she wants her perhaps in the way Kim actually does want her.

Hailey avoiding her all day after the I love you. She can see it clearly now as Hailey not knowing how to proceed, knowing that she’s processing things and maybe even regretting how she handled it the night before.

Hailey coming around that Saturday, an apology coffee in her hand.

Oh god, she is such an idiot.

Somehow Kim had neglected to ever really wonder why Hailey came around, or what she was starting to say as she walked into her bedroom. But Kim wonders now, remembering the casual look Hailey had donned, in the clothes Kim had mentioned is the easiest for them to get off, remembering how Hailey had done her hair in that messy sort of way she did on their not-dates, the smile on her lips, and the nerves in her eyes.

Hailey... Hailey had come around to fix things. Not to repair a friendship but maybe... Maybe to express her own mutual feelings, even if it wasn’t as direct or open as the way Kim did the night before.

And Kim had fucked Adam.

It feels as if a bucket of cold water has been poured over her, and Kim looks at the blonde sleeping beside her, wanting to wake her up, to apologize and apologize over and over, realising just how much she had fucked this up. That she could’ve had it all, just like she wanted, that she wasn’t picturing things and instead she threw it away because she couldn’t see past her own hurt.

She doesn’t wake up Hailey. For one, she’s driving and should concentrate on that, lest she gets them into an accident just because she couldn’t wait. And for two, Kim knows she can’t botch this up, that she needs to think this through, think through her apology, how to phrase it, to make sure Hailey understands that she gets it, and that she’s truly sorry.

Kim is just grateful that Hailey decided to sleep most of the way home, knowing that she couldn’t keep in her new realisations in her head if she was awake the whole time. It’s hard enough when Hailey stirs right as they approach Chicago, waking up. Even more hard when Hailey goes to smile at her, but then stops herself, probably remembering the words Kim so, so regrets ever saying.

It’s late, and Voight told them that they get the day off tomorrow for their good work, so Kim drops Hailey off at her apartment. It’s agony watching Hailey barely look at her, getting her bag from the boot silently and just saying a quiet thank you. Kim can see how much Hailey’s own hurt is dripping off her, and all she wants to do is get out of the car and kiss her.

It’s even more hard to watch Hailey retreat to her apartment building, watching her walk away from her. It feels as if Hailey’s taken her heart with her, and with every step the ache in Kim’s chest grows.

Even waiting until tomorrow to apologize feels impossible.

And when Kim realises half way on her way to her own apartment that the car she’s driving is Hailey’s, that they had forgotten that, she knows she can’t wait any longer. She’s got to fix things, now, and she’s got a good reason for driving back.

Kim stops, briefly, parked in a store’s car park. There she gets out of the car, letting the cool late march air wash over her, before digging out her phone and dialling.

“Kim?” Adam answers almost straight away.

“Hey. Sorry for calling, I need to ask you something.” Kim pauses, pressing her free hand against Hailey’s car, feeling the cool metal beneath it. Adam waits patiently. “That Saturday, after we, you know. And Hailey came in. What... Okay just go with me here, what do you think is going on?”

Adam laughs.

“Well, Kev owes me five bucks. He thought you’d go to him for advice.”

“I’m not asking for advice. I just want to know what you think.” Kim immediately gets defensive, only spurring on the chuckle Adam gives her.

“Kim, everyone knows you two are sleeping together. Okay so I didn’t know until that Saturday—yes, Kevin and Jay teased the fuck out of me for that—but it wasn’t hard to figure out. And everyone pretty much knows you two had a lover’s spat—which, Kim, you know I love sex, but next time talk to your girlfriend instead of sleeping with me, I’ve never felt so awkward in my life—and everyone wants you two to sort it out. And if you want my advice—,”

“I’m good,” Kim cuts him off, but light heartedly. “I just wanted to know, there’s definitely something there, between us.”

“Kim, aliens on Mars knows there’s something there. It’s so obvious, the looks you give each other.”

“Thank you—just thanks. And I’m sorry, for using you.”

After her conversation with Adam, Kim feels a hundred pounds lighter, a bounce in her step. She needed to get confirmation from someone else, that she isn’t seeing things, that she isn’t imagining feelings between them. She’s hurt Hailey enough, she can’t go in and apologize if she’s yet again got the wrong end of the stick.

She makes one last detour, going into the store quickly to grab some flowers. They’re only the cheap stuff, the fancier shops shut by now, but they’re still pretty—of course, nowhere near as pretty as Hailey is. But then again nothing is.

Kim is a bundle of nerves when she knocks at Hailey’s door. The time it take Hailey to answer feels like an eternity and her nerves only build while waiting. But then she opens the door and Kim knows, knows, that this is exactly what she needs to do.

“Kim?” Hailey looks shocked and confused to see her standing there, and she only gets more confused when she sees the flowers in Kim’s hands.

“It was your car. The car we took—it was yours.” As for starts to romantic speeches go, this could be better, especially as Kim hands the car keys to a confused looking Hailey.

“You could’ve driven it home.” Hailey says.

“I didn’t want to. I wanted... I wanted to see you. Hailey, I fucked up. I don’t want you to be just a co-worker, I want so much more. I want you. And I miss you too, like so much. And I’m so sorry that I slept with Adam and I pushed you away and saying—saying everything I said. And I know this probably can’t just make this all better, but I get it, I get you. Everything, how you reacted and everything. I was blinded by my own hurt, and I’m sorry I didn’t take into account your own trauma. But I got you these flowers, and I, uh, I won’t tell you I love you again because I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I will ask you if you could kindly please give me another chance and maybe go on a date with me?” Kim’s heart is beating so, so fast in her chest that she wouldn’t be surprised if Hailey’s neighbours could hear it.

There’s the longest pause between Kim finishing and Hailey responding and it feels like forever, and all that could go wrong flashes through her mind, but then Hailey smiles.

Hailey smiles, and it’s like the sun comes back into Kim’s life, lighting up her world.

“I’m sorry too, for how I reacted. I didn’t mean it, we were not just fucking, not to me anyway. I... I wanted to ask you out but I was so scared and then when you said that, I just panicked. There’s so much bad memories tied up around in those words and I didn’t know how to handle it, not coming from you. I’m sorry. And I’d love to go on a date.” Hailey’s words makes Kim’s heart skip a beat.

“But first,” Hailey then says, before stepping towards her, squishing the flowers still in Kim’s hands as she kisses her. It’s gentle, soft but so perfect. She pulls back, blue eyes shining.

“And if you’re not going to say it, I will.” Hailey takes a deep breath. “I love you,”

Hailey goes in for another kiss, and this time Kim drops the flowers on to the floor, wanting, needing, her hands to be free as she wraps her arms around her, pulling her tight against her, hand in her hair and deepens the kiss.

For the first time in six weeks, Kim finally feels alive. It’s not long before the two, still interlocked, retreat into the apartment, the flowers long forgotten outside the door.

Kim knows this is what she could’ve had six weeks ago, on that Saturday, had she not slept with Adam. She would’ve thought that she would have wanted a milestone like this to happen in her own place, in her own home, but the reality is that nowhere is home, no one place is home.

“But like—yours could be right, and mine wrong? Right? Like that could happen? I mean— people get false positives. This, mine, it could be false?” Hailey has gone back to freaking out. Kim places her stick down so that she can run her hands down the blonde’s arms, calming her.

“Hailey, breathe. Everything is okay.” Kim pauses, letting Hailey breathe in and out before continuing. “It could be a false positive—it could also be real. But it’s okay, it’s not a crisis if it is real. Have you and Jay discussed kids?”

Hailey smiles momentarily at the mention of her husband, her hand twisting the wedding ring on her finger before answering Kim. “Yeah. I mean, yeah, of course we have. A few times—before we were even together, even. Not that we were planning it together—well, not out loud—”

“Hailey.” Kim cuts off her rambling. There’s not many times that the blonde rambles, even when she’s panicking, she keeps a—seemingly—calm head. But when she does, she can really start to spiral.

“Sorry.” Hailey stops, running a hand through her hair, the other still clinging to the stick, almost as if she can’t put it down, like the thought is something incredibly out there and impossible.

“What have you discussed? Do you two want kids?” Kim gently probes.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.” Another short-lived smile. “But not—not now. It’s still, it’s something in the future. And we still weren’t fully decided if we’d do it this way, like I always wanted to adopt but I know, I know it’s not a walk in the park and we’ve been talking. I’ve been wondering if it was just because of the fear of my genes and I. We agreed we’ll leave it for a bit, but that’s gone out the window.”

Hailey pauses, running her hand through her hair again, before groaning. “Kim, tell me, what should I do?”

Kim gently holds both of her hands, closing Hailey’s fist around the stick. “You talk to Jay.”

That seems to calm the blonde, Hailey getting a soft smile on her face—the face Kim has dubbed her Jay smile. “Yeah. I talk to Jay.”

“Okay. Can we leave now—I think if we’re any longer Adam might just walk in. You know he has no patience,” Kim looks at Hailey’s expression carefully, noting every part of it, making sure that her friend is good enough to get through the rest of the day.

“Yeah. Yes.” Hailey nods, pulling Kim into a hug. “Thanks, Kim. And congratulations, again. This is really great.”

Kim squeezes her back, looking forward to when she might—maybe—be able to say it back to Hailey.

The day had started with Kim throwing up in the toilet. She had been feeling nauseous for a few days, going in waves, and that feeling—that thought that it might be because she’s pregnant and not because it’s flu season—had been in the back of her mind.

She had tried not to focus on that thought too much, not wanting to go down that path, not when it could just be a bug. Not wanting to give herself hope, only to get it taken from her.

Kim had rationalised it, even the throwing up. It was a minute amount, nothing compared to when she was pregnant the first time. Adam had a food related bug the other day, so this could just be that, Kim had told herself. Things tend to hit her a bit slower, after all.

And then there’s that Sylvie has a stomach bug—one that’s kept her in bed all week, texting Kim often to complain when Matt is on shift. And Kim had hung out with Sylvie the day before she fell ill. This, Kim told herself, is probably just it affecting her, now, too.

This day was the first time she threw up, and so was the first time she told Adam she’s been feeling nauseous. His reaction was exactly how she predicted it would be.

He had lifted an eyebrow, pausing as he sipped his coffee. “Are you... Do you think..?”

Adam had asked it very casually, his expression neutral. Like her, he was unable to say the words, finish the sentence, neither one of them wanting to voice the possibility, not wanting to voice it in case it’s not, not wanting the hurt associated with false hope.

“I don’t know. It’s probably a bug.” Kim had answered and he had hummed in response. A part of her wished that she wouldn’t tell him this, that she wouldn’t be having this conversation with him when it’s just a thought and not even, really, much of a possibility.

But communication is important, a lesson she had learnt many times before—that in the long run, it does more than doesn’t. And it’s not good for her, for herself, to keep these thoughts locked up only in her brain. Especially when having more kids is something they want.

It’s not like they’re actively trying. Kim’s only just come off birth control, and the doctor warned them it takes a while for her body to adjust. They had even been using condoms, occasionally, as it makes the clean up easier in their busy lives.

That had been all they had said to each other, then, needing to get Makayla ready and to school, before heading to work themselves. But it was only a few hours later, when another wave of nausea had washed over her while Adam and her were in the break room that she had stopped them making the coffee, grabbing at Adam’s arm.

“I should get a test.” Kim had told him, murmuring, but her urgency clear. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until she knew if she was or not, the thoughts in her mind almost distracting her.

“Okay. Now? We can say we’re going to see a CI?” Adam immediately got his game face on, and that’s when she had started to panic. About what if she is pregnant, about if she’s ready to be pregnant again, about if she can handle it.

Suddenly, the thought of simply peeing on a stick seemed impossible.

Hailey had entered the break room, then, and had took on look at Kim’s panicked expression and Adam trying to calm her to know that something was up. It only took one look between her and Adam, after Hailey asked if she was okay, for them to fill in Hailey, needing another voice to help them through this.

“Hey, calm down.” Hailey had said in that way of hers. “It’ll be okay and there’s no point panicking until you know—and here. If it’s too much to pee alone, I’ll take one with you. Moral support.”

It was an insane idea, Adam staring at Hailey incredulously. But it clicked in Kim’s brain, and she found herself saying yes before she knew what she was doing.

They had used the CI lie instead, telling Voight they were going to see one of Hailey’s. Kim had watched as Hailey tried not to focus on Jay’s eyes following them out the bullpen, not wanting to let him know there was anything more to it—good, considering.

The journey there and back was filled with Kim’s nervous ramblings to Hailey, as she voiced her fears and worries about this, the blonde just listening patiently and giving her comfort and support when she needed it.

They had taken the tests in the district ladies room, Adam waiting outside—probably shooing away anyone else. Which, Kim had thought, probably means Trudy will have a theory to her being pregnant before the day is up.

“It’ll be alright, Kim.” Hailey had reassured her as they waited those long two minutes. Hailey had gotten out her phone, had set a timer for them and even though Kim could see the seconds counting down, it felt like eternity.

“I can’t. Can you look at it?” Kim had asked after the minutes were up, unable to look at the stick, feeling quite like her heart was in her throat. Hailey had rolled her eyes good-naturedly, before telling Kim that she will.

The excited yelp that left Hailey’s mouth almost instantly after told Kim all she needed to know and Kim turned the stick to look at it herself, and seeing that amazing pink line.

“I’m pregnant! Hailey, I’m pregnant!” Kim couldn’t help her own excitement, throwing her arms around the blonde, squeezing her into a hug.

“Oomph,” Hailey clearly hadn’t been prepared for that, lifting her arms weirdly at the sudden brunette weight barrelled into her and that’s when Kim saw it.

Hailey’s own stick.

Hailey’s own stick, with her own pink line.

“Hailey!” Kim gasped before she can stop it, squeaking out her friend’s name. Hailey pulled back from the hug, frowning at Kim.

“What?”

“Your...” Kim couldn’t finish the sentence, instead she pointed at the stick and watched as Hailey looked down at it, watching the comprehension and then shock over take her face.

It’s a few days later, and Kim is sitting in Molly’s. Sylvie has gotten over her bug and immediately organised a girl’s night out. Not that Kim or Hailey will be drinking—a shame, since Sylvie had told them that she and Stella had some exciting news.

The day after the found out, Hailey had come into work and whispered into Kim’s ear that everything was okay. That her and Jay decided that this is unexpected but welcome, and they had a doctor’s appointment to confirm it.

Very little people know yet. Kim has been to the doctor, the doctor confirming she is ten weeks along. They told Kevin almost immediately, Trudy—as Kim guessed—had yet again figured it out and of course Hailey knows, alongside Jay.

They told Voight, just so Kim could explain why she doesn’t want to go out in the field—can’t, really, her pregnancy being somewhat of a high risk—although she’s waiting until Monday to officially disclose.

This weekend Adam and her have plans to tell Makayla, something she’s quite excited too, knowing how much her daughter wants to be a big sister, having been begging them for a baby for months—well, that or a puppy.

Hailey and Jay have only told, obviously her and Adam, and Will. They’re waiting until after today—the day of their doctor’s appointment—before disclosing and Kim and Hailey had a conversation about announcing it to their mutual friends, deciding it might be nice to do it together. Of course, it depends on how along Hailey is.

“Hey,” Hailey slips into the booth next to her and Kim smiles in greeting to her friend.

“Hey. How did the appointment go?” Kim asks, knowing once Sylvie and Stella gets here they won’t be able to discuss the pregnancies.

“Great,” Hailey practically beams. “We heard the heartbeat! Jay cried.”

Kim laughs slightly. “So did Adam. I mean, so did I, but I cry at everything.”

At that, Hailey laughs too. “Kim, so does Adam. Not like you—but I wouldn’t say he’s not a crier. Jay—I’ve seen him cry, but, man, it was. It just hit me, this is the father of my baby. And it made me more happy then I think the heartbeat did. We were both raised by a men who never be seen crying but our baby isn’t going to have that. It was...it was wonderful.”

“I’m so happy for you. Congratulations,” Kim pulls her into a hug before quickly adding on, checking to see if Sylvie and Stella had arrived yet. “So come on, quick. How far along are you?”

At that, Hailey excitedly grabs her arms. “Yes! How could I forget! Kim, you’ll never guess—I’m also ten weeks along!”

Life, Kim thinks again, really does have a strange sense of humour.

A thought she once again thinks when Stella and Sylvie arrive and they make their announcement.

“We’re pregnant. Both of us.” They announce and Kim’s mouth drops open, and she realises they all ordered water instead of alcohol. She barely knows how to process this, Hailey squeezing her hand in shock under the table, but before she can, they’re dropping the next bombshell.

“Stella found out about a week or so ago, I found out earlier this week when I kept throwing up. We’re both around ten weeks,” Sylvie continues.

“No fucking way.” The words drop out of Hailey’s mouth, and judging by the way she gasps, holding her hands across her mouth, Kim guesses she didn’t mean them too. Kim tries to calm her down, widening her eyes at the blonde, but the other two catch on to that there’s something going on.

Kim sighs, after Hailey gives her the go ahead. “Hailey and I—we’re also pregnant. Ten weeks.”

Life has a strange sense of humour.

Kim doesn’t think there’s any mutual acquaintance in their lives who doesn’t somewhat doubt that the four couples didn’t plan this. If Kim wasn’t living through it, she’d scarcely believe it herself. Especially when they narrowed it down and are pretty sure all four pregnancies are the result of a faulty condom—condoms taken from Kelly’s infamous bathroom supply.

Kelly and Stella are self explanatory. They hadn’t used them in a while, but Stella was changing birth control and so they did. Matt and Sylvie a little bit less, but still less incredulous. Matt doesn’t live with Kelly and Stella anymore, but the guestroom—now a nursery—was still open to them any time, the boys having slight separation issues. And apparently when they did this, they’d just use Kelly’s supply.

Jay and Hailey had apparently ran out, and they hadn’t gotten more before Stella and Kelly hosted a night at theirs and Jay had apparently thought grabbing a handful from the supply would be a good idea. Hailey almost questioned her choice in man then, not that Kim could judge her.

Because on that same night, Adam and her were getting a little too flirty and when they realised they were feeling a little loud than they can be, with Makayla sleeping at home, they, in their wisdom, decided why not do it in Adam’s jeep.

And they didn’t have any protection, naturally, on them so Adam had grabbed a condom for Kelly’s supply.

And thus, all four pregnancies were made.

There are benefits, however, Kim would happily admit. Voight, maybe not, depending he’s down two members and another two when there’s doctor appointments. And with them being due around the same time, they’ll be a month he’s down all four, give and take. The unit—especially Kevin—might also not, especially on the days her and Hailey’s hormones and cravings and hated smells conflicted.

But there are benefits. Having your three close friends going through the same things is nice, especially when they could see if a symptom or something is usual—especially when one of the friends is a paramedic and the other’s brother in law is a doctor.

It also makes it more fun, all of them—the men included—having a light hearted race about who’s bump shows first, who kicks and moves first and so forth. It made the pregnancies that little bit more fun, even when it was miserable, even when doubts and anxieties about the upcoming parenthood loomed.

The biggest race, especially as the pregnancies drew closer to the end, was the competition and bets who will go into labour first, who will have their baby before the other.

But, of course, life has a strange sense of humour so, naturally, they all went into labour on the same day.

Stella had technically started the night before, her contractions beginning then. They were far and few in between so she was advised just to wait.

Kim’s had started earlier that morning. She had been woken up at the crack of dawn with back pain. Nothing too unusual at this stage of the pregnancy, but as Adam was helping Makayla pack her lunch for school, Kim’s waters had broke.

When Adam and her had gotten to the hospital, about to update the group chat, they had passed Stella and Kelly and the high five they had shared had raised some nurses eyebrows.

Childbirth being the thing that it is, they didn’t look at the group chat after that. Kim’s contractions were starting to come more frequently, and Adam had left the room to holler at the doctor—only to run into Will. Will, who raised his eyebrow at Adam, and asked if he was here for Hailey and Jay.

Because the one thing Voight joked better not happen, that he can’t be down four members, plus a fifth and the desk sergeant as they were determined to meet Kim and Adam’s second daughter as soon as possible, had happened and Hailey had gone into labour around midday.

Flora Leslie Severide is born first, at seven point six pounds. Her godparents had plans to meet her first, but they had got laid up with their own new arrival so the man who had been like a father to both her parents and his wife met her first.

Alice Trudy Burgess Ruzek is born second, at eight point seven pounds, a weight that got her father nearly cursed at. Her older sister was the first to meet her, shortly followed by their grandmother Trudy and godfather Kevin.

If you were to ask Kim who’s kid would come next, she would’ve guessed the Halstead’s son, but it wasn’t. Sylvie had gone into labour later than the others, but had a much faster labour, her daughter being determined to be born quickly, apparently.

And so, Estelle Kelly Casey is born third, at nearly seven pounds. Met first by her honorary grandfather, Mouch, already at the hospital to be with his wife and her godparents, with her cousin Flora sleeping, having been in the world a little longer.

And finally, Nikolas Patrick Halstead made his arrival, last but the biggest at nine pounds, met by his uncle and godfather first, but shortly followed by uncle Kevin, his godmother Kim and uncle Adam still occupied with his cousin.

Life has a strange sense of humour sometimes but—as Kevin joked—at least they can all split birthday costs with each other and not have to worry about their various aunts and uncles not being able to make it.

Not to mention how it made finding the balance between being new parents and having a social life easier.

Max had walked into her office not that long ago, greeting her with a soft kiss and a light rub across her shoulders. He was smiling, but Helen has known him too long to not know, immediately, that something was up, that he wanted something.

And that it wasn’t about the hospital. It wasn’t a crazy but inventive new idea, it wasn’t anything that she would need to help him retool despite no longer being his deputy. It was something personal, something about this life that they’re forging together.

“What do you want, Max?” She said with a sigh. And then he told her about the emergency in paediatrics and how he’ll need to stay late to sort that out—and no doubt avoid Brantley’s calls about whatever wild scheme he comes up with to fix it—and this means she’ll have to head home without him.

At first, she didn’t get it. This, unfortunately, happens when it comes to their work, and it’s not like she hasn’t picked up Luna from pre school and did tea time without him before; they—Luna and her—had gotten into the rhythm of each other, finding their own bond and connection that exists without Max there.

And then she remembered that Luna wasn’t at pre school today, that she was at home, home because her grandparents spending the day with her.

She had got it then, what Max was asking of her. That she has to go relieve the Bennetts’, introducing herself to them in the process, without him.

Max, to his credit, gave her the option not to.

He told her that he can call them and ask them to stay longer, knowing they’d agree but Helen shot that down. She knows how much he’s not giving them an inch, any chance for them to try and challenge his parenting again, and how they’ve also been striving to make sure that Luna has a consistent routine—that it doesn’t matter if they’re at Max’s or her’s, everything goes the same—and this would throw that off course, potentially undermining the progress they have made.

And, regardless of all of that, Helen missed her girl. Luna’s smile has the same affect at her dad’s, making her world light up and feel like the luckiest woman in the world and for that, Helen would face anything. Including Georgia’s parents.

Now, here, outside Max’s door, however, Helen feels a tight, restricting knot in her stomach. It’s easier said than done and she’s questioning her decision, questioning if she can do this without Max. All sorts of scenarios run through her head. What if she can’t get the words out? What if they refuse to leave Luna with someone they see as a stranger? What if they make a scene in front of Luna and it upsets her? What if this causes trouble for Max?

Helen has spent quite a fair bit of her life running, of burying things down and right now, the urge just to turn on her heel and head back to her own apartment, texting Max sorry.

But then, through the door, she hears Luna’s laugh and her heartstrings tug and she knows she’s not running anywhere—nowhere but Luna’s arms, that is.

Taking a deep breath, Helen inserts her key into the door and steps into the apartment. She barely has time to say some kind of greeting, or really even locate Gwen and Calvin—who are sitting on the sofa—with her eyes before a Luna sized hurricane barrels into her, throwing her small arms around her legs.

“Mum!” She exclaims, and Helen usually lights up at hearing Luna say that word, but she freezes for a moment now. Luna’s been going between calling her Helen and Mum, and while Mum—or Mummy, or occasionally mama—is becoming more frequent, she had naïvely hoped Luna would say Helen today.

Luna’s beaming up at her, a smile filled with such love and adoration, that Helen only freezes for a brief moment before she’s in motion again, picking up the two year old with ease; Luna squealing with joy as she does so. She’s dressed in the pink princess dress Helen got her—very much not what she was wearing when she left work this morning and she wonders if it was Max or Gwen who put her in it—and it makes her smile.

“Hey, baby. You’re a princess today, are you?” Helen can feel the Bennetts’ eyes on her, but she knows it’s more important to focus on Luna.

“Yeah! G’anma let me!” Luna enthusiastically nods her head.

It’s then that Helen turns to look at them. They’re standing now, and while it’s harder to read Calvin’s expression, Gwen’s is easier and it is enough to tell Helen that this is not going to be smooth sailing. Normally, Helen is incredibly good with parents; a skill very useful in her line of work, but she senses she’s met the exceptions to her Dr Helen charm.

“Hello.” Helen greets them, politely but with more confidence than she feels.

She knows an important thing to make sure is not to act like she doesn’t belong here, because she does, and she’s not going to apologise for that, and so while she feels like she should stand by the door until they give her any sign that she’s allowed to enter further in, she doesn’t. She places her bag down, and expertly manoeuvres to get off her coat without putting Luna down, since she can tell from previous experience that the girl doesn’t want that and there’s no way she’s doing anything to invertibly make Luna cry in front of them.

“Where’s Max?” Gwen’s voice is clipped, both of their eyes clearly looking Helen up and down with judgement. At her father’s name, Luna perks up, lifting her head from where she was resting it on the slope where Helen’s shoulder meets her neck.

“Dada? Where Dada?” She turns her head, realising that Max isn’t with them. “Mummy, where Dada?”

“Dada’s still at work, baby. He’ll be here later to give you kisses before bed, he just had to help some people. I thought we could have a girls only evening, yeah? Until Dada gets home.” Helen remembers the first time she was alone with Luna unexpectedly; she felt like she wasn’t doing anything right and that maybe Max would see she’s not cut out for this. But she got through it, and now there’s these moments, where Luna doesn’t cry or tantrum, she just nods, smiles, and snuggles into her.

“Girls only,” she parrots cutely. She then turns to her grandfather. “G’anpa go!”

Despite the tension in the room, all three adults has a little chuckle at that.

“Yeah, grandpa will have to go, because he’s not a girl, is he? But that’s okay, him and Grandma are going to go now—soon—they need to go back to their home!” Helen quickly amends her sentence, not wanting to appear to them like she’s kicking them out with no answers, knowing that could make a bad situation worse.

“I’m going to put you down now, sweetheart, so you can play while I talk to grandma and grandpa, okay?” Thankfully, Luna lets her do so with no issues, which is a relief.

“Something unexpected came up and Max had to stay at the hospital to fix it,” Helen answers Gwen’s question. She’s already answered it by answering Luna, but she knows she needs to answer Gwen too and knowing Gwen, being an adult, needs more explanation than Luna does.

“We didn’t want to keep you waiting, especially when it’s not necessary.” She pauses for a second, quickly working out what next to say. “It’s unfortunate that this is how you find out, we were planning on something a lot less sudden, but it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Helen.” She holds out her hand, ignoring that technically, they had met before. Once, briefly, at Georgia’s funeral and glimpses when they were knee deep with covid, and she caught Max face timing Luna.

“Helen. Let’s not beat around the bush, you’re not just Helen, you’re Max’s girlfriend, the woman who thought it okay to replace my daughter in her daughter’s life.” Gwen’s tone is harsh, the only lightness to it for Luna’s benefit so she doesn’t pick up on anything. The words, although somewhat expected, hurt more than Helen would’ve thought, just like the rejection of neither of them shaking her extending hand.

Gwen lets out a laugh. It’s bitter and dry, humourless. “You know, earlier, when Luna asked if she can wear the dress ‘mama’ got her, I—stupidly—thought it was just her toddler way phrasing of things and that it was a dress that reminded her of Georgia, of her actual mother, and that Max was actually making sure to keep her memory alive. How foolish I was.”

Helen’s cheeks burn, the words stinging. Gwen means them to, wanting to hurt and bring Helen down, and they do hurt, but a protectiveness stirs in her at them, at what they imply.

“Max does keep Georgia’s memory alive.” Her own tone is firm, certain. She didn’t spend so long watching Max grieve, seeing him adapt, seeing him tell Luna that Helen can’t be Mom because mommy’s in heaven, to have Gwen imply something different. “He’s a good father and would never erase Georgia from her life.”

She then takes a deep breath, preparing herself for her next sentence. She knows if Max was here he’d back her one hundred per cent, but he’s not, and Helen can’t help but worry that he’d hate what she’s about to say, as irritational as that is.

"And I am Luna’s mother. I didn’t birth her, but she’s mine—just like she’s Max’s, and just like she’s Georgia’s. And that doesn’t negate Georgia being her mother, either, Luna just has two mothers. And I know this is a shock and you’re going to have your valid feelings about it, but I won’t have you say anything like that, especially around Luna.”

Gwen goes to open her mouth, looking indignant, but Calvin rests a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. Helen briefly thinks he’s going to be a voice of reason, but then she sees the look in his eye. “You work at the hospital, don’t you?”

The question takes her back a little bit.

“Yes, I do. Doctor Helen Sharpe, head of oncology and hema—,” She’s interrupted before she can finish.

“You were Max’s doctor.” Calvin states, before turning to his wife. “I remember Georgia mentioning her. She’s been on the TV. She’s the one at the funeral.”

Helen blinks. She doesn’t know why exactly the funeral was mentioned; they were all there, even Lauren, who was in a wheelchair still then, or why Gwen’s expression got even more stony at her husband’s words.

“Oh.” Is the only word Gwen says.

“Oh?” Helen repeats, her curiosity getting the better of her, even though everything in her tells her to leave it, tells her that this is a thread she doesn’t want to pull.

“You were the only one who Max hugged back and pulled Luna away from his chest to show her to.” Gwen explains. “We didn’t think much of it, and I don’t even know what to think of it until now. Now it’s clear what’s going on.”

Helen’s head spins. She never noticed that, although it makes sense in hindsight. Helen has always been one of, if not the only, people that Max allows himself to be vulnerable with. But she gets the impression that’s not the conclusion they’ve gotten.

“I don’t know—,” she begins, but Gwen cuts her off.

“Our granddaughter calls you mum,” the word is said with distain. “Max’s attachment to that place to the extent of not being on top of Luna’s care, it all makes sense. When did the affair start? Was our daughter even cold in the ground, or, even, did it start before she passed away? Or, god, were you the reason he took the job in the first place?”

Helen tries to remind herself that these still are, technically, grieving parents and they just got new information dropped on them in a rather unorthodox way, but anger bubbles up in her. For Max, being thought so little of. For herself, for being accused of being of such an unsavoury character. Even for Georgia, to have her parents’ doubt that she wouldn’t know if her husband was unfaithful. And finally, for Luna.

Luna.

Helen’s eyes turn to look at her daughter, still innocently playing on the floor, not noticing that something is up. Helen’s heart twists.

“Luna, love,” the blue eyes she’s inherited from Max looks up at her. “Lets take you to the bedroom, yeah? Wanna sit on Dada and Mummy’s bed and watch a movie on your iPad?”

Helen scoops Luna up in her arms, taking her little girl away from her grandparents, setting her down among the pillows on the bed and helping her set up the movie.

“What’ll it be? Frozen?” Normally Luna wanting to watch the movie would drive her a little insane in her mind, but this time Helen doesn’t mind, knowing it’ll capture her attention fully. “Here you go, my love. You watch that, my little princess,”

Placing a soft kiss on top of her head, Helen exits the room and heads back towards the Bennetts’.

“Your granddaughter, my daughter, calls me Mum because that’s who I am to her, and I am so grateful and happy that’s the role she and Max views me as." She settles first, firmly.

"And Max is always on top of Luna’s care. He singlehandedly raised her, alone, while dealing with his grief. He didn’t check up on the hospital at all when he was at Luna’s check-up and thought there was something wrong and I wasn’t even his deputy at that point. He sent her to live with you during covid for her safety despite it killing him every day they were apart, he even was willing to let her stay longer because he was so scared of her getting ill. And he even entertained the thought of what if you two were what was best for Luna during your frankly ridiculous and ill-thought out plea for custody even though it’s completely obvious to anyone who sees them two together that he’s who is best for her. He’s an excellent dad, the kind of dad I wished I had because he will fight for that little girl through everything.” Helen lists off, taking a slight pause to allow for her not to run out of breath before continuing.

“We did not have an affair, and it is insulting to both of our characters to even imply so. He took the job for the same reason he has an ‘attachment’ to it—because he’s a good man who wants to fix a broken system and you honestly should have all the respect for him because of that; he’s making the world a better place for Luna to grow up in and that is truly admirable. He’s a good man, and you should appreciate that because that’s why you even got a second chance to be in Luna’s life; a dad who neglects her care wouldn’t think twice about the stunt you pulled. I’m not sure I’d be so generous. Now, I would please like you to leave. You can go kiss Luna goodbye, and then you will go. I need to get her tea on and I no longer want you in my home tonight.”

Helen makes sure to keep her tone level, and her breath even. She’s shaking inside, she knows, but outside she’s cool as a cucumber, applying that mama bear Dr Sharpe Lauren says she has when it comes to her stubborn patients and their families.

She sees something in their faces, and for a moment she thinks they’re not going to do as she says, but then they turn and do exactly as she told them too. Quickly giving Luna a hug and a kiss bye and then gathering their things and exiting the apartment without making eye contact with her.

Once the door shuts behind them, Helen’s shoulders slump down and a breath she didn’t know she was holding in is let out. Feeling like a weight has been lifted, tension realising from her muscles, she kicks off her shoes and goes to join Luna on the bed, curling up with her to watch Frozen.

Her little girl smiles brightly and happily at her, snuggling against her side and letting out a content sigh and Helen’s body relaxes. It wasn’t easy, standing there and justifying her role in Luna’s life, in Max’s life, especially when there are days where she still feels like she’s an imposter, that she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop and for them to leave her, just like she’s always been by everyone else, but this, here, steals away all that tension, all that adrenaline running through her body, immediately relaxing her muscles in ways not even the best masseuse could.

This—Luna and Max—they’re her family, they love her, they want her, they chose her, and Helen’s never known more joy than being allowed to be a part of their life.

She was sure Adam had just intended for her to read it, and then throw it away but she couldn’t do that, instead opening up her draw and fishing out her purse, slipping it in so that she’ll remember to take it home to keep. Two weeks before, the thought of Adam and her being at the point where he would do something like this felt so far away, like there would always be an uneasy tension between them.

But then he came back, and they shared that kiss. And he went back to hers and they stayed up until two am talking through everything that had happened between them and they were on a better note, moving forward and afresh from everything that had transpired.

They didn’t talk about the note, the only acknowledgement Kim giving of it being squeezing Adam’s hand when she saw him later, giving him a smile, and getting a slight nod in return.

And nor did they talk about the second note that turned up two days later. This was much simpler, just a you’re doing great, Al’s actually smiling at you : )

It became a routine, every other day or so a note would appear on Kim’s desk scrawled in Adam’s handwriting. Ranging from tips to little things like you’re doing great or you’re brilliant or—Kim’s favourites—you look beautiful today.

More often than not, they met up to grab coffee before coming in, or Kim’s in first, so she was kept on her toes never knowing when the note will show up. Sometimes it would be left there the night before, or she goes to the interrogation room or go out with Al to track down some information and she would come back to one.

Adam’s not always in the bullpen when she spotted it, but when he was, Kim would flash him a smile. A private moment between them that lasted only a second, but one that weaved them closer and closer together.

When Kim came back after helping Nicole cope with the aftermath of her rape, she expected that the days of arriving to notes on her desk had long gone. The reignited connection that was being knitted between them again had been put on the back burner since she was been away, Kim busy with Nicole—and dealing with the doubt about her and Adam, if they could actually rebuild things, and the guilt of not wanting to burden him when he’s forgiven so much.

But Adam surprised her again. That first day back Kim was greeted by a yellow post, ur attached to her best cop mug, and considering she had just made it official with Matt after three dates her heart really shouldn’t have fluttered the way it did.

You’re going to kill this today, you’re a fantastic cop!

Kim had barely spoke to Adam about how nervous she was to be coming back, how nervous she was about if her ability to be a good cop had rusted over in the time she had gone, not wanting to put a voice to the thoughts that lingered in the dark shadows of her mind but she apparently didn’t need to for him to know.

Kim nearly messaged Matt that their budding relationship was over then and there, because who could ever match up to Adam—a man who did this for his ex who had barely spoke to him of late?

She had expected that to be just the message, the last one Adam would leave. Kim was more sure of herself as a cop now, and her and Al had a good rapport—and Antonio was her partner now. But it wasn’t. They took a more fun route, little pieces like a coffee for you : ) on a coffee cup left on her desk, or more interaction ones, like the noughts and crosses game he left on one but amongst those ones there was still the stray motivational ones, always coming when Kim most needed them.

Like the one she came in to see the morning after Matt and her broke up. On the classic yellow post it note, stuck to her best cop mug was the words you’re an awesome cop and there’s nothing wrong with putting that first, even over your partner—and it is worth it. You did the right thing for you : )

It was that note, and the way it made her heart flutter and made her feel airless, despite having an awful break-up the night before, that made Kim think this was it, that it was enough. No longer she should allow herself to run, to listen to the doubt within her mind, not when her heart had so clearly made it’s decision.

It was time to get back her man, and she knew exactly how she would.

It took Kim a few weeks to sort. There was the anxiety and doubt about whether she should that she had to fight off, and there was the more practical things she had to sort—getting the photos and copying passages from her diary, and talking to Herrmann about using Molly’s.

That was the thing Kim was most anxious about, but she didn’t need to: Herrmann’s inner romantic came up and he was saying yes before Kim had even fully explained anything. He even offered to help set up—Cindy also offering her services when she heard.

And so on the day, Kim, Herrmann and Cindy spent an hour or so getting Molly’s ready, a pool of nerves in Kim’s stomach. Her heart beat so fast, feeling like it was going to burst right out her chest, as she walked up the stairs to Intelligence, the note, which was pre-written, in her hand.

Having to spend the work day acting as if there’s nothing up, that the day was just an ordinary day was hell for Kim, almost as hell as dodging Adam’s curious expression he shot her way when he came in and saw the note she had left him—come to Molly’s after work ~ K x

Kim wanted to make sure as little people knew as possible what she was up to, not wanting everyone to know the rejection that she was worried was coming, but she had to also loop in Trudy, asking her if she could say she needs her so that Kim could get out of work before the others. Originally, she thought she would be able to give Trudy only the minimum amount of details, but one look from the desk sergeant set Kim straight.

Luckily, Trudy seemed to have a reaction almost exactly like the Herrmanns’, and she agreed easily to what Kim was asking, but also noting that if Kim was just up front with Voight about why she needed to leave early, he would’ve done it himself—as if that was the only issue as to why, not that there’s nothing that made Kim cringe more than telling her boss about her love life.

The time Kim spent waiting in Molly’s was practically agony, and it took nearly everything in her to not go behind the bar and grab some alcohol to chug from the bottle to help calm her and pass the time. Stopping only because that would be some way to chuck Herrmann’s kind gesture back into his face and she did not want to do this wasted.

When Adam got there, he opened the door so casually, strolling in like it was just another day at the bar. Understandable, Kim thought, considering he had no idea Molly’s wasn’t open to the public that night.

He faltered when he saw it wasn’t, and that there was only her in here. His expression was adorable, as he took in all the displays, the photos of them, the post it notes and the diary passages, and the romantic lights and atmosphere of the bar, and it melted Kim’s heart and drove away any of the remaining doubt.

“Kim?” His voice sounded as confused as his face looked.

“Hey, Adam.” Kim gave him a little wave, suddenly feeling very shy, vulnerable at her emotions all on display. But she took a deep breath and proceeded with her plans. She walked towards him, grabbing his hands and pulling him deeper into the bar.

“I wanted to tell you that I love you, that I want you—that I want us. But you... You, Adam Ruzek, you don’t deserve just a simple hey let’s try again; you deserve so much more. So I thought I’d show you how much I love you and I did this... A little exhibit of our love.” Kim gestured around the room.

“There’s all the photos we’ve ever taken and—and, uh, passages from my diary that ever mentions you. All of it, not just the good bits, but the bad, too. Because if we’re going to do this, we have to embrace the past, not just romanticise and erase all the past mistakes. And of course the post it notes, because god I love them so much. And because they’re what made me realise I want you—that I’ll never want, or need, anyone else because I have you.” Kim paused, taking a few deep breathes before finishing the speech she had prepared.

“Because you’re my heart, my soulmate. You complete me and match me and... We belong together. We’re not going to try again, we’re going to succeed.” Pause again. “If you’ll have me, that is?”

“Kim...” Adam’s eyes was glistening, a look of love and adoration on his face and all Kim wanted to do was close the space between them and kiss him. But she understood that he needed to make the move, make the decision. She had put all the balls in his court, laying herself open for him to see, and the direction they go in next is up to how he felt, what he was or was not ready for.

“Darlin’, that’s not even a question. Of course I’ll have you, this... This is all I’ve wanted to hear.” Adam closed the gap between them, his longer legs closing it so much faster than she would’ve, and then his lips were on her, kissing her like he’s never kissed her before and it was like the very first time and also the thousandth time.

The pregnancy, seeing their daughter grow inside her, preparing for her arrival, it has brought them closer. Especially when the hormones hit. There has been moments when the air between them is filled with that tension, the love between them palatable. But they’re not crossing that line.

In a very unlike them sort of way, they had the conversation about it. Both agreeing that they can see them doing this, having a relationship, being a couple raising their baby. But communication and keeping together has never been there strong point, Alice being why they’ve only just started to be successful in that way. And mixing up a baby in their problems, it’s not something they want to do. They were both messed up by their parents and the one thing they want is for Ally to be okay.

So they made an agreement to wait, to reassess when Alice is here, when they’ve got past those first months where even the strongest couples can fall apart in.

It doesn’t stop them absent-mindedly seeking each other out most of the time, always looping their hands around each other and cuddling on the couch and playing with each other’s hair. It doesn’t stop them, when Kim’s hormones turn to a hundred, from being intimate. And before Kim got so big, before sleeping is so uncomfortable for her she can barely stand having the cover on her, let alone another warm body lying beside her, it didn’t stop them from sleeping in the same bed.

They’re just friends, having a child, and are very much in love with each other.

It was after they grabbed the extra breakfast when Kim’s back starting to ache. At this point, she’s used to having aches, so she just tried to adjust herself in a more comfortable position.

Adam had noticed and when they got home he told her just to be comfy on the sofa, so that’s what she did.

The back pain was persistent, and Kim started getting her Braxton Hicks again. The first time she got them, Adam freaked out and called Sylvie—the blonde very patiently explaining it to him again. Now, Kim didn’t think to tell him, them being used to this, instead just ran her hand over her belly.

They had a few visitors stop by, to say hello to Kim now she can no longer go up the stairs to Intelligence. Jay and Hailey were first, then Trudy. They asked Trudy to be their daughter’s grandmother and she had already taken the role to heart. Mouch, too, being their baby’s honorary grandfather. He didn’t come to visit with Trudy, being on shift. Then, finally, Kevin came, Jordan accompanying him.

The Atwaters stayed longer than anyone else, but then they also had left—it once again just being Kim and Adam. And then it was just Kim, Adam getting the message that something they ordered for the baby was in the shop.

The pain in her back had tripled in intensity, and Kim found herself having to get up, needing to walk a little to see if that would help. She thought she’d walk to the bathroom, having to need to pee like she always does now.

But when she stood, Kim felt a flood of water and her eyes widened, as she quickly realised what had happened. That the pain wasn’t just back pain, that the Braxton Hicks was actually contractions. Having get so caught up in the possibility that her baby will be a bit late, Kim just accepted that this was fake labour signs.

Adam left, saying he’ll be back within the hour. Kim had been prepped that labour is long, and even though they had been told to hear to the hospital if her water broke, she waited for Adam to be back. She could’ve called him, but she didn’t want him to rush and get into an accident.

It’s only an hour, Kim had thought.

And forty minutes later, Kim kneeling on her bathroom floor, in intense pain, she regretted that thought. Because of course this would happen. That on top of everything, apparently Alice wanted to make a quicker appearance.

“Hey, darlin’! I’m back,” Adam calls to her and she could’ve cried in relief that he’s finally here; Kim had left her phone in the living room when the contractions hit, hard.

“Adam!” Kim calls back to him, not caring how urgent and distressed her voice sounded. Adam was instantly in the bathroom.

“Kim? Kim, are you okay?” He says as he gets there.

“I’m in labour,” She tells him, although as she looks at his face, she can tell he’s already gathered that. She must be a mess, on the floor, hot and sweaty, crying. But he doesn’t look like he’s even bothered, the shock fading fast and he’s leaping into action.

Adam kneels beside her, softly stroking back her hair, laying a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’m here now.”

After her comforts her, indicating for her to take his hand as another contraction comes, Adam is fishing his phone out of his pocket, calling for an ambulance. Kim’s too far in to even bother wondering if he can drive her, that it’s better for Alice to come in their bathroom with towels all around them rather than in his car.

Although, both would prefer if she didn’t come before the ambulance.

It’s two minutes later Adam’s phone lights up with a text. We just got the call to your address!! Is Kim alright?

It reassured Kim—and Adam, really—that Sylvie is the paramedic who’s coming, them needing that familiar face at this scary, new time in their lives.

Kim’s labour was painful, intense, but short. Alice appears before the ambulance does, Adam and Kim staring in wonder and amazement at their new born daughter.

Adam made a joke that he’s glad he bothered Sylvie with so many questions, as he expertly wrapped up Ally, hugging Kim as she hugged their daughter. She’s still connected, and Kim still needs to deliver the placenta, and luckily it’s only two minutes later when Sylvie is here, and they greet the paramedic with a smile.

“Your goddaughter was a little impatient,” Adam says to her and Kim smiles at him, nosing into him slightly as she does it, love in her heart.

“Just like her father.” As if to prove that point, Adam leans down and gently kisses her, not caring what they agreed or that Sylvie is there. All that matters is them, is Alice, is the love they share; the love Alice is born into.

It isn't the perfect birth story. But nothing about their story was, imperfect relationship, imperfect conception, imperfect family. And that makes it all that more beautiful, that despite the imperfections, it is perfection without a doubt.

She has loved Adam for so many years now, never fading, even if sometimes she’d have thought it waned. And this is a day she had wanted, had desired and yearned for, for so much of her adult life. She had known, and loved, Adam now for longer than the years of her adult life she had spent without him—and she had hoped, had wished, that one day she’ll have spent longer in his arms then all the years she spent without him for so, so long now.

So long that it’s surreal to look at herself in the most beautiful, perfect wedding dress, her hair beautifully styled, her veil clipped in and know that soon, this is what Adam will see as she walks down the aisle to him—that she’s his bride.

This is something she first envisioned years ago, when Adam first proposed to her in the locker room after a day she spent thinking that he hated the thought of working with her. The ring used then sits on her finger now, and it looks like it belongs there just as much as it first did. If she didn’t know better, Kim wouldn’t think it hadn’t spent so many years sitting in a box, saved only by Adam’s sentimentality and not wanting to really, truly, admit that they were over.

But she does know better.

And that’s what plagues her now.

When did she know this is what she wanted, that she loves Adam more than she ever thought was possible to love someone, and that she wants to spend the rest of her life with him? Can it be all those years ago, when she handed back the ring in the same place he gave it her? When she doubted his character and everything she knew about him because of an emotionally manipulative partner?

When they hadn’t grown all the ways they needed to grow before making a commitment like this? When she hadn’t learnt to not just bury her feelings deep down and then push him away, and when he hadn’t unlearned all the damage his gambling addict father taught him? When they hadn’t learn the power of communication?

Can she even say that she had the knowledge to even actually know—and understand—what wanting this was about?

If she didn’t know then, what about when Adam came back from undercover and she saw him for the first time again? That the affect Roman had on her had worn off, and she had made several realisations about herself, and she realised that she shouldn’t have thrown Adam away, and that she wanted to slowly fix things again?

If you asked her then, Kim would’ve said of course she can envision them getting married in the future—but hindsight is everything, and how can Kim say that was when she knew when she allowed herself to get scared again and ended things before they even began?

What counts as her first knowing? Does it even have to be at a time when they were even together? Because those months after Al had died, where months before they spent sleeping together until they didn’t, where Adam began spiralling after loosing his father figure, loosing the man who was more like a father to him then Bob was.

After loosing the man who, if she was being honest, was more of a father to her than her own. After loosing the man who should be at Adam’s side right now, the honory father of the groom.

When Kim saw first hand how bad he was doing, and how she wished more than anything to be able to take away his pain. Even as he resisted her help, even as they fought and dated others, refusing to acknowledge that they were each other’s loves. Even as it got worse and they were fractured after Bob was revealed to be dirty, but got his skin saved, and they fell out because Kim didn’t understand why Adam still stood by his side.

Or can it be the moment that Kim scarcely admits to herself, the guilt even now feeling too much. That Adam was so needed and helpful to her in those moments after Blair died, that he was there for her despite the fight they had months before. The guilt had pulled her from him, Kim cursing herself for even thinking romantic thoughts about him when Blair was barely cold, but those thoughts were there.

She could argue it was when Adam had just gotten out of prison, and they were hanging out again and getting closer and closer. That those moments before Alice, her precious, beautiful daughter, was conceived that was like falling in love with him all over again.

But then could it, when they found out about Ally and that just set them further back? That sorting out how to do all that, how to co parent, how to decide if they should be together or not made a future like this feel so far away, made it feel like a future that was not in the cards for them?

There was the good moments, however. When their set up was working, when her pregnancy hormones was driving her crazy and horny and he met every single need of hers without ever making her feel like a burden. When Adam got the embarrassing experience of telling their boss that, no, they don’t need the disclosure papers, that it’s still just sex, after too many times of Adam coming back from his lunch break from seeing her looking too ruffled, his shirt buttons oddly done up and Kim nearly pissed herself laughing at him telling her that.

And then there’s the moment Adam held their new born Alice in his arms, staring at her with such love and awe, like he couldn’t quite believe that she was finally here, and that she was his. That moment made all the horrible pregnancy symptoms and the pain of labour ever so worth it, and made her know for absolute certainty that she couldn’t have a better man for the father of her baby.

But raising a baby is such hard work, especially when communication still hasn’t been perfected. There were times where Kim wanted to just tear out her hair, to scream, to give up on things- on them, even when they weren’t trying to work out how to advance forward.

The day Kim decided to take Makayla in, without consulting Adam, and told him she knows this is going to mess up their parenting, that she knows doing this might mean they’ll have to adjust living arrangements, that they’ll need to have a custody agreement for Ally and he just shook his head, telling her that he supports her, that him and Ally aren’t going anywhere, that they can take in Makayla together, as a family; that was a day Kim attributes to being the start of the beginning, the start of this. Of them getting back together, working through their issues and overcoming them, finally becoming the family they are now.

That’s when she should’ve known. That’s the answer as a parent she should give, that she knew as soon as Makayla completed their little family. And it was, it was. But it was in the same way all the times before was; the only difference was that it didn’t backslide like all the times before, that nothing nagged at her mind that maybe Adam wasn’t the one for her.

That her love and her want for their life, their family, only grew in all the adversities they faced next. Like when Bob was making his life hell, and Adam finally choose himself – chose his family – over the father who never put him first and Kim was so proud of him for that.

Or when Roman rocked back into town, and saw her with two children who didn’t look like siblings, or ones with the same father, in his closed mind, and he made a comment about knowing she’d be stupid enough to get knocked up by two different men and Adam didn’t hesitate in punching him.

Nor did he hesitate in comforting the children after, apologising to them for seeing that, seeing him lose his cool and to make sure they still felt safe and secure in their family without them even needing to express and distress; just yet another example of how in tune Adam is with their children.

Another example that was shown when Kim was kidnapped and nearly beaten and shot to death, spending months in recovery, and Adam never let the children feel like they should be worried, that they felt safe, and loved while also making sure she could be a mother, that her recovery didn’t take away all her independence.

The truth of everything, Kim knows now, is that their relationship – this magical thing Adam and her have—it can’t just be quantified to one moment. Love is like that in general, never just reduced to oe moment – not even when it comes to your kids, because you love them from the very first moment but then there’s moments they first smile at you, or you stop them crying for the first time, or the first time they have no nightmares, or call you Mom.

But her and Adam? Their love was the stuff of legends, true soulmate love, from the very beginning. But their journey is rocky, intense and complicated and she can’t choose just one moment because they simultaneously are all the moment, while not being, because the very first moment her heart knew was that very first moment they met, that it met it’s pair, it’s soulmate, even if her brain wasn’t told.

“When did you first know this is what you wanted?”

“What do you mean, the wedding or wanting to be with Adam?”

“The first, but now, both.”

“Your father was one of the first people to truly believe in me, and to love me. I made an impact on his life, and he on mine, and I love him so much for that. It took us a long time to get here, because love and life are complicated, but I love the journey, and the family we have made together and everything we’ve ever been through had been worth it for this. So to answer you, I knew from the very first moment he believed in me, that very first moment what we’d one day have shined through. And I never could’ve predicted this outcome, but it always would’ve happened because it was fate. It’s not about knowing when I wanted this, because this—Adam, our family—it’s where I belong.”

Kim had thought that perhaps her answer was a diplomatic mom answer, a simplistic way of breaking down the many ups and downs of their relationship, ones that her eight year old knows about but can barely start comprehending.

But standing here now, waiting for Trudy to come and tell her the car is here—the car that will take her to the church to marry the love of her life in—searching her mind for that moment she knew and being torn over the many possible answers, Kim knows it wasn’t just that.

It was the truth, it is the truth.