Say my name and everything just stops
Small scrap sections from a longer work that will never be finished. It acknowledges the shift from āCaseyā to āMattā
Itās kind of like Mattās engaged in some sort of really serious game of hide and seek, but one person is not really hiding, and the other is somewhat seeking, but also not really.
His marriage has become this game of avoidance where they just keep passing each other. They pass in the halls of the firehouse. They pass in their own home, from room to room. Even in a confined car, it feels like theyāre just passing.
He and Gabby are so off kilter. Everything feels unbalanced and itās driving him crazy. This isnāt the marriage he envisioned, and he doesnāt know how to go back.
Heās well aware theyāve always had problems. Theyāve never been perfect, but he had been able to fix it. Usually, that involved him complying and going along with his very independent wife, but heād done it.
This time, he canāt comply so theyāre stuck in this holding pattern while he waits (and also avoids her) for her to do the compromising.
He canāt go along with her plan to have a child, basically without him. She pretty much implied she was going to get pregnant with or without his help which stung. He canāt give her a baby if it means having to raise their child without his wife. That guilt will kill him, so he refuses.
His refusal didnāt kill her plan. Like always, Gabby Dawson found a way around and wants a babyā¦wants to endure a risky pregnancy and possibly carry some other guyās child if he wonāt do it.
His own wife wonāt budge and heās not going the extra mile to solve this, so they are just passing by.
When he arrives home to the condo, he freezes in his doorway. He was expecting his wife, probably perched on a stool ready to pick another battle. Heās ready for it, but itās not Gabby in his kitchen.
Brettās standing at his island, wearing a faded apron he vaguely remembers was gifted to Gabby as a wedding present, mixing bowl and a big wooden spoon in hand.
Her hair is piled up on her head, chocolate smeared on the corner of her mouth, and he assumes Antonio fucked her over again. Sheās probably eating her feelings and drinking wine with her best friend, but thatās not the case.
She looks up from her chocolate concoction, blue eyes widening like a cartoon. āMatt, hi. Sorry, I didnāt think youād be home so soon.ā
He stops dead in his tracks, but not because Brett has apparently broken into his home. He pauses because she called him Matt which she doesnāt do.
Itās not like he has a problem with it, but pretty much everyone at 51 calls him Casey. Itās just become this thing so when Sylvie Brett says it so casually, in his damn kitchen while his marriage crumbles somewhere elseā¦it strikes him.
Heās not even sure sheās ever called him his name before. She mightāve in the past, but it never registered.
Heās only really Matt to his wife and his sister. Although, his wife does use his last name when sheās pissed (which has been happening often).
She finishes swirling the brown batter in one of the big glass bowls Gabby chose. āI know I shouldnāt have used my emergency key, but I wanted to make Gabby her favorite brownies just toā¦I donāt know, cheer her up. I shouldāve asked first.ā
He shakes his head, sets his keys on the hook and adverts his gaze because heās pretty sure he makes her nervous. Brett canāt see him as anybody other than 51ās Captain which he gets. He just doesnāt want her to think heās so uptight heād dress her down for being a great friend.
āNo, itās fine. Iām just passing through anyway,ā he explains. āIāll be out of your hair in like ten minutes.ā
āItās your place,ā Brett replies. āIf someone should leave it should be me.ā
He figures Gabby would rather have her friend here instead of him anyway.
āSeriously, Iām heading out the door anyway. Stay. Finish the brownies.ā
She smiles a little, sweeping a loose strand of long blonde hair away from her face. āThanks, Casey.ā
Everything shifts right back to normal where heās just Casey, Brettās just Brett. Heās in his home. The one he shares with someone who shares practically nothing with him and Brettās doing what she does best; being good to her people.
Itās one thing he has always appreciated about the paramedic. Sheās good. Sheās good to her patients. Sheās good to 51. Sheās extraordinarily good to his wife.
He passes her by, ready to change from his construction job and head to Mollyās. He stops in the doorway, observing a flustered Brett as she tries to perfect the homemade frosting. She tastes it with her finger and groans when itās not good enough.
He knows from Gabby that sheās still a little heartbroken over Antonio and a bit raw from certain ambo calls, yet sheās hereā¦supporting Gabby with sugar and chocolate.
She startles again, almost as if sheās afraid heās changed his mind and is mad sheās here. āUh, yeah?ā
āYouāre a good friend. Sheās lucky to have you,ā he says.
Her blue eyes look a little misty in his kitchen lighting. āSheās lucky to have you too.ā
He doesnāt think his own wife believes that, but heās grateful for the words anyway.
The oven timer dings behind her, and she struggles to pull out batch one of her brownie mission. He contemplates offering to help, but his life is currently burning to the ground, so he doesnāt have time to salvage some brownies.
Some things are better left unsalvageable anyway.
Heās on his third or fourth beer at Mollyās. He knows drinking wonāt numb the fact he wasnāt good enough for his wife, but it does help a little.
The stool next to his squeaks obnoxiously loud and he hears a quiet gasp. Pink painted nails clamp on the counter and Brett has nearly fallen off the stool.
He wants to laugh, but she looks partially embarrassedā¦or maybe more ashamed
āIām sorry, Casey.ā
He raises an eyebrow, dumbfounded. She has nothing to apologize for. The last shift had gone well, and he doesnāt even remember scolding her for anything. Hell, heās not even sure he talked to her at all at the station.
āI shouldnāt have blamed you for Gabby leaving,ā she mutters, pulling at the edge of her sweater sleeve.
Thatās a conversation they had weeks ago. Heās completely forgotten about it. She had been blindsided and upset which he absolutely understood. God knows he felt all that with her, so he really didnāt think too much about her minor lash out
āI was just hurt I guess,ā she admits. āAnd if I felt hurtā¦I canāt imagine how hurt you were. It was selfish and dumb.
Sylvie Brett and selfish donāt fit in the same sentence. Sheās too kind even to her own detriment.
Still, it feels good to have someone recognize how hurt he is. Yes, they all care and pity him, but no one acknowledges how much Gabby hurt him. It might not have been intentional but her constant rejection about what he wants and needs fucking hurts.
āBrett, itās fine,ā he replies. āI get it. I do and honestly, she was always going to chase bigger things. She was always going to leave, and I was always going to stay.ā
It sums up majority of his relationship. Gabby was always leaving in some way. Sheād leave to pursue a new career, leaving him to stay and deal with the fallout. Sheād leave to adopt a child and again, he stayed and followed. She was always leaving him and somehow, he just kept staying.
Brett frowns, looking into her glass. He watches her stir the blue-ish margarita with a toothpick umbrella. āWell, for what itās worth, Iām glad you stayed.ā
For the first time in a long time, her words soothe the crippling ache Gabby left behind. It doesnāt completely fix everything, but it feels good to know that he didnāt make the wrong decision by not following her.
At least according to Brett.
She nods, a smile passing over her face. Lately he hasnāt seen Brett very happy so itās good to see a glimmer of their past.
āHonestly, I just canāt imagine what 51 would be like without you, Matt.ā
Heās struck by the fact sheās using his name again. Itās odd because heās been so used to Casey for so long and every once in a while, Brett calls him Matt.
Thereās something interesting about the way she says it. The syllables just roll off her (now blue) tongue differently in a way heās never heard. It feels like two different voices and sounds absolutely nothing like it does on shift, surrounded by firefighters and in between blaring bells.
Wow, maybe heās had a little too much to drink tonight.
He nudges her arm lightly, thanking her for her kindness. Heās surprised sheās giving it to him of all people, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.
Prior, Brett has always been connected to him through association. She was Gabbyās best friend. She was Gabbyās ambo partner. She was Gabbyās brotherās girlfriend.
Sheās never been anything to him, but now with Gabby long goneā¦he thinks maybe Brett wonāt be such a stranger anymore.
āGod, do you imagine if you left, and Severide became a captain or something?ā She asks through a snort.
He has to admit thatās a funny picture. āYouād all be dead because he was too busy making out with Kidd.ā
Brett laughs a little too hard at his pitiful joke. He starts to think she mightāve had a few drinks herself. āOh you are so right, Casey!ā
Heās too caught up in the allure of her contagious laugh to analyze the name shift. Heās heard this laugh way too much from his living room or the common room on shift, but this is the first time heās really taken by it
Sylvie Brett has a wildly adorable laugh. Who knew?
He starts to appreciate new things he hasnāt had the chance to while married. For one, he has complete freedom of his own life. Every decision is his. Plus, he has more time to spend with 51 and he surprisingly enjoys fishing with Boden of all people.
However, his newest discovery happens to be drunk Sylvie Brett. Brettās incredibly charming on any day but mix her with alcohol and she somehow becomes more and more dorky.
He has to say he greatly appreciates drunk Brett because itās hilarious. She canāt hold her liquor and each sentence come out in mangled fragments, but itās not annoying. Not at all. He actually quite likes Brett when she drinks.
Sheās absolutely drunk after Foster pumped her full of alcohol. Heās had the front row seat to her nose scrunch, big doe eyes and flailing hand which had turned his crappy night around.
Heās not even thinking about Naomi or what it couldāve been if he had pretended to be ready.
He had planned to go home a little early but decided to stick around to observe Brett. Sheās very drunk and heās concerned about how sheās going to get home.
Foster left hours ago. Kidd ditched too, probably to make up and make out with Severide. He expected Cruz would take her back, but he disappeared with Chloe and hasnāt returned. Even Otis has vanished.
He makes conversation with Hermann and waits for someone to get her home safely.
At some point during the night, he loses track of her just as Hermann closes. He took his eyes off to help the older man move a shipment of beer and now, sheās gone.
Shit. He hopes sheās not inebriated enough to think she can drive. Although, heās not sure a taxi or ride share is better when sheās this out of it.
Matt hurries out the door, hoping to catch her before she disappears in some sketchy car.
Luckily, he doesnāt have to look far because Brettās sitting on the bottom step, chin in hand and phone clutched in the other.
She tilts her head up, grinning. āHey, Casey.ā
āHi. What are you doing out here?ā
She points her turned off phone in his face. āWaiting for a cab. Iām just a teeny tiny bit drunk.ā
Yeah, just a teeny tiny bitā¦
Again, he doesnāt want her getting in a car like this where someone could easily try something.
āIāll drive you home,ā he offers, reaching for her hand. He pulls her up, braces her stumbling with his chest and holds one hand on her arm to keep her grounded.
āNo. No. You should be calling cute reporter,ā she slurs, eyelids drooping lower and lower. She pokes his chest with one slender finger. āGo and make your move, Casey. Girls donāt like waiting.ā
Naomi is not his concern at the moment. Sheās just a girl he casually kinda sorta dated and Brettāsā¦well, sheās Brett. Sheās an essential part of 51 and far more important than some possible girlfriend.
āSheāll be there in the morning. Iām concerned you wonāt be if I donāt get you home myself,ā he explains. āYouāre drunk, Brett and I donāt trust some taxi driver so letās go.ā
She sticks her bottom lip out. āFine. Fine. Fine. Lead the way, Captain.ā
He steers her by the shoulders so she canāt fall flat on her face towards his truck. When he gets the door open, Brett needs a boost into the seat.
He watches one of the best paramedics he knows fumble with a seatbelt for five minutes, amused. Eventually he gives in to her frustration and does it for her.
Super talkative drunk Sylvie seems to have left for the night. As he navigates down the streets of Chicago, sheās quiet and pressed against the passenger window.
He pulls up in front of the place she shares with Otis and Cruz ten minutes later. He turns his truck off, unlocks the door for Sylvie to jump (or probably fall) out. She doesnāt make a move though, and when he looks over, sheās sleeping against her seatbelt.
He shouldāve seen this coming. She drank a lot so of course the alcohol would knock her out.
She snores a little in response and he canāt help but chuckle. He stays in the driver side for a few more minutes, thinking of the best way to get her inside.
While thinking, he observes her drunken sleep. Her hair is a mess, tangled against the window. She has mascara rings all around her eyes and cheeks and sheās even drooling a little.
He admires her unkept look. Heās always liked how sheās fearlessly herself and just doesnāt care if itās well received or not.
Itās a very admirable quality.
Her neck is gonna hurt like hell if she stays in that position much longer. He climbs out his truck and goes to her side. He eases the door open, managing to keep her from tipping out with a hand against her head.
āBrett,ā he says, shaking her shoulder a little. āBrett, come on. Wake up.ā
Sheās dead asleep, nestling further into the hand keeping her head from lolling. He canāt stand all night like this with her face in his palm.
Fine. Heāll carry her in. He undoes her seatbelt and when it clicks, she startles.
The sudden panic vanishes the second she realizes itās him. She smiles sleepily. āMatt.ā
Matt. Not Casey. All evening heās been Casey aside from when she full named him earlier. Now that sheās drunk and tired, heās Matt again.
He wonders if itās purely accidental or if she consciously chooses when to change it up.
āHowād you get here so fast?ā She asks, looking around the sidewalk.
āYou fell asleep,ā he explains. āCome on. Let me get you to your apartment. Can you walk?ā
She nods and stumbles out of her seat. He braces her fall, laughing at how ridiculously uncoordinated she is after some tequila.
āHey! Are you laughing at me?ā
He helps her inside the apartment building, pointing her in the direction of the elevator.
āIāve never seen you like this. Itās wildly entertaining.ā
āWell, at least I didnāt accept a proposal this time,ā she yawns, leaning her head into his shoulder as they wait for the right floor.
She shrugs as the doors slide open. āA green card thing. I was drunkā¦didnāt marry him. Long story.ā
Sounds like it. They make it to her door, Brett halfway asleep on him. He fishes her key out of her purse and then letās them inside.
āCasey, hi?ā Cruz greets from the kitchen. His eyebrows raise when he sees Brett. āOh man, I completely forgot.ā
He knows Cruz was too focused on his new girlfriend to look out for her, but still. Sheās his room dog or whatever they call each other. He shouldnāt have left her alone.
āShe needs to go to bed,ā he explains, doing his best to pass her off to Cruz. She doesnāt want to leave his side for whatever drunken reason so they both have to get her into her bed.
Once sheās buried under a thousand blankets, he turns to Cruz. āMake sure she drinks a lot of water tomorrow because that hangover is gonna be brutal.ā
Cruz laughs. āDrunk Brett might be fun, but hungover Brett is not.ā
He can imagine. Sheāll definitely be miserable tomorrow.
When he goes to leave, Cruz stops him. āThank Casey.ā
Itās not like he was going to leave her anyway. Heās just glad sheās home safe.
That night he and Gabby hadnāt just passed by but went straight through. They fell right into familiarity and slept together. She was his wife. She knew him better than anyone. Well, heās starting to think thereās someone else who understands him better, but heās not gonna go there.
The night is good, but just not as good as he remembered. He expected that cosmic pull (or whatever) but if anything, something is pushing him further and further from what he thought was his future.
There was a disconnect and when he left, it felt like closure. Gabbyās so happy in Puerto Rico. Heās genuinely glad sheās doing so well for herself, even without him. Plus, heās happy too in Chicago with 51. His future is here.
Gabby leaves the voicemail about how she always has an opening for him, and the bitterness resurfaces. Itās a nice gesture, but it proves how things will only ever progress if he makes the life changes. They can have another night together if he goes to Puerto Rico.
He has no plans to do that.
Someone knocks on his door at a quarter to eleven. His best guess is Severide forgot his key and he and Kidd got in a fight.
They fight and make up a little too much.
He hauls himself off the couch and opens the door. He expects Severide in the door with a permanent frown and a string of curses. What he doesnāt expect is Brett in his doorway, mini dress on and perfectly applied make up.
She looks amazing. Heās always thought Brett was a cute girl. Itās a fact, but heās starting to think sheās more than just cute. Sheās shockingly hot.
Did he black out and ask her on a date something? Sheās clearly dressed for the occasion. God knows heās thought about making a move, but he has no memory of doing it.
Even if he somehow lost his mind and did plan a date, he wouldnāt choose such a late time.
He must look as confused as he feels because she chuckles.
āSorry. I know itās late.ā She looks down at her tight red dress and then back at him. āI had a date. I donāt usually wear this kinda stuff.ā
So, someone else asked her out? He doesnāt remember hearing about anyone new. To his knowledge, Ryan was the last.
āYou lookā¦fancy,ā he compliments. Other more expressive words are on the tip of his tongue, but he settles for fancy. Itās probably best he doesnāt tell her she looks hot in that dress.
āLate dinner. Completely disastrous dessert. Anyway, Iām not here to talk about my failed attempts at romance.ā
Heās not sure why heās relieved the date didnāt go well. Heāll analyze that later.
Heās still confused about the events that have led to her stunning appearance at his place.
āI was at dinner, and I just couldnāt stop thinking about you, Matt,ā she says so casually as if thatās not a completely loaded confession.
She canāt stand there in a tight red dress and roll his name off her lips like this and expect nothing. She was thinking about him? She was actively thinking about him when she was with a date?
āYouā¦couldnāt stop thinking about me? ā
Her eyes widen and she covers her face. āOh my god. That came out wrong. I donāt meanā¦geez, I keep doing this.ā
His racing heart slows a little because he misinterpreted her words. He thought this was heading in another direction. He thought he wasnāt crazy thinking something might be happening between them.
She brings her hand back down to her side. āI was worried because I know Gabby left today and I wanted to make sure youāre okay.ā
āIām fine,ā he dismisses. āReally, Brett.ā
She eyes him like she doesnāt believe a word heās saying. In hindsight, he didnāt sound very convincing.
āI worry no one checks on you,ā she continues. āYouāre this steady presence at 51 for everyone else and I just couldnāt stomach the thought of you all alone here blaming yourself.ā
He leans in his doorway. Now thatās he is closer, he can smell her addictive perfume. It somehow smells like Christmas and fruit.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. āFor not feeling like enough. I canāt pretend to know what went down with Gabby, but I do like to think I know you. I know that she unintentionally hurt you by leaving and now she left again.ā
She edges a little closer and his heart rate quickens again. Heās half convinced she can see his neck pulse thumping from where sheās at.
āIf Iām crossing a line here, let me know, but I donāt like the thought of you sitting here thinking you somehow failed,ā she rambles.
He swallows, breathing in deep because sheās definitely doing something new to him. Sheās not touching or anything, just hovering a few inches and God, he wants to kiss her.
āYou didnāt fail and truthfully, I love me some Gabby, but she was wrong to make you feel like youāreā¦I donāt know, nothing?ā
Thereās a lingering question behind that confession. Sheās not sure sheās reading his feelings right, but sheās nailing it. Somehow, sheās articulated everything heās felt better than he could.
āYouāre not nothing, Matt. If you ask anyone at 51, if you ask meā¦youāre pretty much everything there is.ā
Heās shell shocked which doesnāt happen often. Heās good at reacting. Heās trained to be ready for anything, but he wasnāt ready for this.
Sheās healing parts of him he didnāt even know were broken with her kindness and consideration. She didnāt have to leave a date to ease his pain, but she did.
She knew heād need to hear it before he even did.
Sheās standing in his door in a strapless dress that pushes up her boobs saying things heās never heard from anyone. Heās not leering at her, of course, but heās human. He spares a few glances since sheās so close.
Heās also only been Matt tonight. She hasnāt called him Casey once. Somehow, heās hearing his first name from her more than ever and he quite appreciates the change.
Matt brings his hand to her bare arm, brushing his palm down her skin. āThank you, Sylvie.ā
He knows he should pull his hand away from her soft skin. A normal shoulder squeeze is one thing, but this lingering grip is another. He traces his thumb around a freckle on her forearm.
Her skin erupts in little goose bumps and he figures sheās probably freezing her ass off in that dress. āDo you wanna come in? I can get you a sweatshirt or something.ā
She looks at her heels before gently easing out of his grip. When she replies, she looks anywhere other than at him. āNo, thatās okay. I better go home before Foster goes on a manhunt for the guy who took me out. I told her Iād be home by now.ā
Right. Itās probably best she doesnāt cross the threshold. Heās afraid of what heāll do with a few beers in his system and her looking like that.
Sheās sweet, kind and so empathetic while heās just a mess.
āYeah, good call. Foster with a pitchfork and torch is a scary thought,ā he comments.
She laughs, wrinkling her nose. āYou make a very good point.ā She swipes some hair away from her face. āIāll see you on shift, Casey.ā
Casey again. It feels like the shift is definitely intentional. Sheās creating distance.
He nods, moving all the way back into his apartment. āOn shift.ā
She waves and he unapologetically watches her walk down the hall. Once she turns the corner, he shuts the door.
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