good/right/real

Chapter 23: Electric Loud

Summary: Sylvie and Peter finally talk.

The house coordinates just before the end of shift. Severide and Casey are going to talk to Cunningham. Herrmann is going to the hospital to keep them updated on Baby Boden. She and Kidd are going to focus on being there for Shay. With the assignments handed out, they all split up.

"Do you mind if I go out with Pete for breakfast first?" Sylvie asks. "I'll be over at Shay's as soon as I can but Pete wants to talk and I've put him off long enough."

"Please, take your time," Stella says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "With all the doom and gloom around the house lately, you deserve a meal with your guy."

Sylvie sighs and pastes on a smile. She doesn't have the heart to tell Stella that Mills may not be "her guy" for much longer. "Thanks. I'll call you when I'm on my way."

A few minutes later Pete pulls up at the curb. She hops in the passenger seat and away they go. Sylvie directs him to a cute little diner that she and Shay like to frequent when they have a chance. They make small talk on the drive over, but Sylvie still resolutely avoids looking him in the eye. She doesn't want to know if he's looking at her any differently.

They find a table and sit in near silence until they order. Once the waitress is gone, there are no more excuses to keep them from talking.

"Oh, the detectives gave this back to me today," Pete says as he slides a small wrapped package across the table. "You never got to open it."

"Right," she says as she hesitantly opens the package. It's strange seeing something from before they were taken. That feels like a lifetime ago. She smiles softly as she opens it to reveal a hula dancing shark made for the dash of a vehicle. "What's this?"

He shrugs bashfully. "What we are is still new but I wanted to buy you a Christmas present that would...make you smile. Something to keep us from taking ourselves too seriously, you know? I thought you could put it on the dash of 61. If you want, that is. You don't have to."

"Oh no, I definitely will. Shay will love it," she assures him. "Thank you."

She doesn't meet his eyes again and, based on his sigh, he notices.

"Sylvie, I know you're mad at me for saving that guy's life but—"

"I'm not mad," she says quickly. He thinks she's mad at him? He did nothing wrong. "I swear I'm not. You did the right thing, Pete."

"Then why can't you look me in the eye?"

"Because...you must think I'm awful now. I asked you to kill a man. How could your opinion of me not change after that? We're first responders. A thought like that is never supposed to enter my mind," she answers him truthfully.

She can't have him thinking he did something wrong. He was wonderful. She was the one who crossed a line. Not him. His hand reaches across the table and encloses around hers, squeezing it encouragingly.

"I gave you the chance to clamp that artery and you didn't do it. That's what counts. Besides, he and his buddy were trying to kill us. You may be a first responder but you're also human. You didn't act on it and that's the only thing that matters. You can't beat yourself up over that," he replies. He brings the back of her hand to his lips before continuing. "I don't blame you for having the thought, Brett, and you shouldn't either. Is that really why you've been avoiding me all this time?"

She winces and nods. "Yes, I'm sorry. Honestly, a part of me keeps waiting for whatever we're doing to end horribly...because you're just too--"

"Too what?" He asks when she abruptly ends her sentence.