I just can't seem to stop writing more than I intended for this arc. This chapter (and the next) were all supposed to be one chapter . . . but there's only so much I can write before saying that's way too big a chapter for me to publish. Let's put it this way - I fully expect next chapter to be at least as long as this one, which is about 12K words, and I wanted to give everyone an update. So . . . enjoy part four of six, and I swear we will get Matt and the Dardens next time XD

Kelly is an overprotective best friend, Jack is the best boss and surrogate dad, Chicago isn't the only city that shows up for its own, Ritter says what everyone is thinking, and it turns out Sylvie doesn't have to be in the same room as her favorite homicide team to help them save a life.

***

When the RPG detonated inside the house, the eruption of flame and smoke from the windows and door made everyone outside dive for cover. Ears rang from the explosion as seconds ticked by.

Then the police were shouting and calling for an explanation, but Kelly pushed them to the back of his head. Only one thing mattered to him. "Sylvie!" he all but screamed into his radio, hearing Violet cry out in shock somewhere behind him. "Report! Sylvie?!" No response came, and Kelly whipped around and pointed at Tony and Capp, who had caught Violet when she crumbled to the ground. "Squad 3, search and rescue!" he barked.

The pair burst into action and beelined for their rig. Kelly didn't follow them; instead, he charged right to the door. "Chief, there could be more explosives!" the SWAT officer protested. "We didn't have time to clear the place!"

Boden shook his head, standing aside as Tony and Capp returned in record time. "My men know what they're doing."

By the time Kelly made his way through the door and into the house, Tony and Capp had caught up to him. "Sylvie? Kidd?" he shouted. "Call out!" A weak groan from nearby made the three men sharply turn, and Kelly pointed to the bomb technician who had fallen. "Capp, check him out." Capp veered to the wall, and Kelly directed Tony to the lingering flames. "Tony, get on that."

"Got it," Tony nodded, approaching the fire with the extinguisher he carried.

Trusting his men to do their jobs, Kelly pushed onwards through the house remains, green eyes scanning for any movement. "Kidd? Sylvie?" he called again. "Hey, talk to me!"

"Kelly?" a croak came from behind a table nearby.

Kelly shoved it away to find Stella struggling to sit up, a prone Pryma next to her. "Hey!" Kelly shouted over his shoulder. "Hey, back here!" Capp rounded the corner and moved to assist Stella, then a rustle of movement behind the lieutenant made Kelly's attention pivot at once. He scrambled past Pryma to reach Sylvie's side, the paramedic whimpering as she attempted to sit upright. "Sylvie," he breathed in relief, reaching to turn her face towards him. "Hey, hey, try not to move, OK?"

"Kelly," Sylvie gulped, blinking dust out of her eyes as she looked down. "Hurts."

Kelly's heartrate rocketed, and he quickly searched every inch of her he could see. When he reached her side, he found her shirt soaked in blood, and he clamped his hand on top of the wound. Sylvie gasped weakly, and it felt like a punch to Kelly's gut. "I'm sorry," he choked, gently guiding Sylvie to lean against him. "Looks like you took some shrapnel." He looked around the house and did a headcount, and he reached to turn on his radio. "Hey, Chief, everybody's accounted for," he reported, watching Capp help Stella stand. "We need two stretchers."

"Copy, Lieutenant," Boden answered.

Sylvie trembled as she curled into Kelly, and Kelly held her protectively to him, eyes darting between the arriving members of Truck 81 and his best friend. "Just take a breath," he told her.

As Capp escorted Stella out of the house, Mouch and Gallo arrived to take Pryma out with other paramedics. Violet led Carver straight to the pair of best friends, her face pale. "What happened?" she asked as Carver moved to help Kelly lift Sylvie.

"Shrapnel," Kelly answered shortly, not letting go of Sylvie's hand as Carver set her on the stretcher. "I can't tell how much."

"OK," Violet nodded as they hurried out of the house. "Any exit wound?"

Carver bent down to check. "Not that I can see," he shook his head.

Violet exhaled shakily, working to fix an oxygen mask over Sylvie's mouth and nose. "Don't worry, Sylvie. We got you."

Mouch and Gallo followed them, and Gallo looked at Stella as the lieutenant gingerly made her way down the steps. "What happened?" he asked worriedly.

Stella watched Sylvie get wheeled to Ambulance 61 with an unreadable look on her face. "She took the brunt of the blast," she answered.

Kelly and Carver pushed the stretcher into Ambulance 61, then Carver turned to Violet. "I can drive," he offered.

"Thank you," Violet sighed in relief as she climbed into the ambulance.

Carver raced to the driver's seat, and Kelly turned to Boden, one hand already on the stretcher. "Go," Boden ordered, and Kelly needed no further encouragement to jump into the back of the ambulance. "We'll meet you at Med."

Kelly shut the doors behind him, and Capp reached up to hit the doors twice. 61's sirens began to wail, and Carver peeled away from the house with haste. As Violet started unbuckling the vest covering Sylvie, the blonde reached up to take off her oxygen mask. "Hey," Kelly reached up to stop her.

Sylvie violently shook her head, coughing weakly as she removed the mask. "Pryma?" she asked hoarsely.

"He's on his way to Med because of you," Kelly told her.

Sylvie let out her breath in a rush and dropped back on the stretcher, wincing as Violet examined her. "The last time I felt my heart race like this, a mass murderer tried to attack me on the stand."

Kelly's eyes sharpened. "Who what?"

"Security stopped him," Sylvie mumbled, her eyes fluttering. "Or the 2-7 woulda shot him."

Violet's actions were jerkier as she worked. "I would've thanked him if he did," she grumbled. "Yeah, your heart rate's a little elevated, but you're gonna be OK."

"Breathing is shallow," Sylvie squinted up at Violet. "Pneumothorax?"

"I don't think so," Violet shook her head. "It could be the shock."

Horns honked wildly outside, and Kelly fumbled to keep his hand over the bleeding as the ambulance veered side to side. "Out of the way!" Carver barked. "Move!" Once the driving evened out, he huffed and glanced in the rearview mirror. "You guys OK?"

"Don't worry about us!" Kelly shook his head. "Just keep driving!"

"Keep pressure," Violet ordered.

Kelly took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm sorry. I know."

As he adjusted both his hands to cover the steadily pumping wound, Sylvie's whimpers turned into little cries, each one eating at Kelly's heartstrings. "You want something for the pain?" Violet asked, already reaching for the morphine.

"Yes," Sylvie burst out, squeezing her eyes shut. "Yes, yes, please, whatever you've got."

"Alright," Violet nodded, using a syringe to measure the dose. "I've got you, partner."

Sylvie's hand suddenly landed on Kelly's wrist, and he looked up as Sylvie's wild eyes searched for him. "Nolan," she gasped, her voice beginning to slur as the medicine began to work. "Kelly . . . Nolan . . . "

"We'll make sure he knows," Kelly promised.

But Sylvie shook her head weakly, her grip beginning to lose strength. "Kelly . . . get Nolan . . . "

He understood what she meant, and he nodded. "Leave it to us."

Sylvie finally relaxed, and she slumped back onto the stretcher, succumbing to the morphine. "Rest easy, Sylvie," Violet murmured, reaching up to scrub away tears with her sleeve then continuing to work. "We've got you."

***

Violet sat with her legs pulled up to her chest, staring blankly at a spot on the floor as Gallo recounted the scene to Herrmann, Ritter, Tony, Capp, and Cruz, who was still in his suit from Javi's adoption ceremony. "Then there was this burst of gunfire, and there's this loud whoosh . . . and then there was nothing."

"That was the rocket?" Herrmann asked.

"Yep," Gallo nodded.

"And we're all just sitting there, waiting for the other shoe to drop," Mouch continued.

"But it doesn't," Gallo nodded. "And then someone's yelling, 'Medic!' Next thing you know, Brett and Kidd are suiting up and heading inside."

Ritter shook his head in disbelief, hands in his pockets as he glanced to the ED doors. "Damn."

The doors slid open, and Violet's head lifted off her knees hopefully. It was Stella who emerged, saying something to one of the doctors before joining them. "Hey, Kidd," Cruz sat up straight. "You need anything? Coffee? Something from the vending machine?"

"I'm good," Stella shook her head, taking a seat at the end of the row. "Thanks."

Her clipped tone made it clear she had no interest in conversation, and Violet wilted, dropping her head back into her arms. "Hey," Carver hesitated before putting a hand on her shoulder. "Brett will be OK."

"She has to be," Violet whispered, biting her lip. "She's got to be."

The doors to the hospital slid open, and Boden stepped away from the desk with a look of surprise. "Mr. Jefferies."

Everyone from 51 straightened as the State's Attorney strode into the room, his expression appearing carved from stone. "Oh, no," Mouch gulped.

"Chief," Jefferies nodded, shaking Boden's hand when he offered it. "I came here as soon as reports started coming through my office. It was Brett and Kidd?"

"Yes, sir," Boden nodded, gesturing to where Kidd sat. "Brett took most of the blast. We're still waiting to hear an update about her."

Jefferies didn't appear pleased, but he nodded. "You're OK, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," Stella nodded. "Just some bruises."

Jefferies nodded, then he looked up when the doors to the ED slid open again. Violet scrambled to her feet when Kelly walked out, his eyes rimmed red. "Well?" she demanded, Carver and the rest of Squad 3 behind her.

"She'll be OK," Kelly told them wearily, and Violet covered her mouth with a sob of relief. "Rhodes and Marcel are taking her into surgery now to get the shrapnel removed."

"Both of them?" Cruz asked in surprise.

"Yeah," Kelly nodded with a swallow. "They say the wound is deep but that, uh . . . she won't have any serious internal damage."

Sighs of relief echoed around the room. "Thank God," Herrmann smiled.

"How long will it be until she can come back?" Violet asked.

Kelly cracked a smile. "Well, knowing her, she'll wanna do the next shift." Snickers came from the members of Squad 3. "But realistically, a few weeks."

Boden nodded. "I'll take Squad and Ambo out of service for the remainder of the shift."

Violet smiled gratefully, and Kelly finally seemed to realize there was one person in the waiting room who didn't go with everyone else. "Jefferies?" he asked.

"I came here as soon as information about the stand-off crossed my desk," he explained.

Kelly swallowed hard. "From the moment she started getting pain meds up until they wheeled her to surgery, she kept asking for Nolan."

Violet's breath hitched, and the members of 51 looked at each other in surprise. Jefferies, in comparison, looked almost resigned as he nodded. "I'll make the necessary calls to New York the moment I get back to my office," he said. "With how high-profile the Martucci case was, it'll hit the news cycle soon. McCoy, let alone Price, will have my hide and my job if they learn about this from reporters instead of me."

Kelly's shoulders sagged. "Thank you."

"Of course," Jefferies nodded, stepping forward and shaking his hand. "If my office can do anything for Brett while she recovers, let me know."

The State's Attorney took his leave with those words, and Violet leapt forward to hug Kelly tightly. "I said it, didn't I?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "She's gonna be OK."

Kelly nodded and hugged Violet back, hiding his tears in her hair. "Good job," he told her.

Violet nodded and stepped back, scrubbing away her tears as she joined Gallo, Ritter, and Carver in walking out the doors. Tony and Capp patted Kelly's shoulders supportively, and Cruz hugged him tightly. "Let us know when she wakes up?" he requested.

Kelly smiled and laughed lightly. Of course, his crew knew he wasn't going to leave Sylvie's side. "I will."

"Good," Cruz smiled. "Take care of yourself, boss."

Kelly nodded and watched the rest of 51 file out of the hospital behind Boden. When the doors shut behind them, he exhaled heavily and rubbed a hand over his face, feeling Sylvie's blood crack where it had dried on his skin. Now the waiting game began . . . but there was still one thing he had to do before he went back through the doors.

Just like Sylvie's brother shouldn't have to hear about the RPG through the news, their best friend in Portland shouldn't have to hear that way, too.

***

"I'll start with witness statements," Sam told Nolan as they walked towards their offices. "Hopefully, I can pull Cosgrove or Shaw away from their current investigation while meeting with them."

"Try Shaw," Nolan grinned at her. "Pretty sure he's wrapped around your finger."

Sam's cheeks flushed, but she quickly whipped around to poke him in the shoulder. "Hypocrite!" she accused. "Why don't you ask Cosgrove?"

Nolan smirked as he pulled out his phone and checked what he had missed while they had been in court. "Because I know better than to interrupt a bloodhound when he's hunting for bones."

Sam sputtered indignantly, but Nolan left her at her office door with a laugh. He pulled up the most recent message Sylvie had sent him from a few hours ago, and he smiled warmly when he saw the included picture. He could practically taste Sylvie's delight when she had informed him of how fast Javi's adoption had moved, and the smiles he saw on the faces of Cruz, his wife Chloe, and their new son were some of the widest he had seen.

He was so engrossed in the picture that he completely missed the person waiting in his office until he looked up. He yelped in surprise and almost dropped his phone when he saw his boss sitting on the sofa, obviously waiting for him. "God, Jack," he huffed. "You startled me." Then he saw the expression on Jack's face, and he felt his heart skip several beats. "What happened?" he asked.

"Close the door, Nolan," Jack told him, too many emotions to name in his voice.

It worried Nolan so much that he complied immediately, and the dread he felt worsened when he caught a glimpse of Peter striding through the bullpen and heading to Sam's office. "Tell me," he pleaded, dropping his briefcase against the wall and sitting across from Jack.

Jack's many years showed on his face as he sat forward with a deep sigh. "The Martucci case in Chicago came to a head today," he said. "The CPD launched an operation against him and barricaded him inside a house. When SWAT moved in for the arrest, a rocket-propelled grenade was launched and embedded in Detective Pryma's leg. Because it had been launched at such close range, the ordnance didn't detonate, and medics had to be called in to stabilize him."

"Sylvie," Nolan whispered, feeling the blood drain from his face. "If 51 responded, she's the medic with the most experience. Of course, she would be in there. With an RPG that could go off at any moment." He swallowed hard and rested his chin on his clasped hands, his full attention on Jack. "Tell me she got out, Jack, please."

"The bomb specialist was able to remove the ordnance, but it did detonate while they were inside the house," Jack said grimly, and Nolan's eyes widened. "The specialist and Lieutenant Kidd were able to walk out. Sylvie and Detective Pryma had to be rushed straight to Med. According to the call I got from Jefferies, Sylvie suffered the worst injuries from the blast, including shrapnel to her side. She was sent straight to surgery when she arrived at the hospital, and although it's a deep wound, the surgeons say there won't be any serious damage. She's going to be OK."

The rush of relief was overwhelming, and Nolan let out his breath in a gasp, dropping his face into his hands. "Thank God," he choked out.

Jack moved from the sofa to the next chair, putting an arm around Nolan's shoulders. "Before she went into surgery, she asked for you, Nolan," he said gently. "Based on what Jefferies said, she won't be out of surgery until late tonight, and she'll still be under heavy painkillers. You fly out to Chicago first thing tomorrow morning. Peter will work with Sam while you're gone." His hawklike eyes hardened. "And just in case the CPD needs a little motivation to clear the city of Martucci's influence, you won't be going alone. If Cosgrove and Shaw weren't in the middle of their own investigation, they would be going with you . . . but I think this will make a bigger statement."

Nolan nodded numbly. "Thank you," he whispered. "I . . . I need to – "

"Go," Jack said firmly, squeezing his shoulder. "You were off the clock the moment you left the courtroom."

That was all the motivation Nolan needed, and he rocketed to his feet. Jack stood and watched the younger prosecutor gather everything he needed, then he opened the door to the office. Like he suspected, Peter and Sam were right outside, Sam looking terrified. "She's going to be OK?" she asked desperately.

"She is," Jack nodded, and Sam slumped against Peter in relief. "Jefferies got the information to us before the news hit, but it'll be making the rounds soon. We'll likely be doing damage control here while Nolan is in Chicago, so we may have our work cut out for us."

"We'll handle it," Peter assured him, Sam nodding fervently.

"Good," Jack nodded, turning when he heard Nolan shut his door behind him. "Officers are at the front of the courthouse waiting for you."

"Thank you again," Nolan said breathlessly, looking between all three of them. "I'll send updates as much as I can."

"Any time," Peter nodded as Sam hugged Nolan tightly. "Give Sylvie our best."

"I will," Nolan nodded jerkily. "Thank you."

He left at a run, and Sam looked warily at Peter once her partner was gone. "How doomed is Chicago once he gets there?" she asked.

Peter exhaled through gritted teeth. "God help Voight if he tries to get in Nolan's way."

Jack sighed. "That's reassuring."

***

A sharp gasp followed by a whimper made Kelly jolt awake from where he had fallen asleep next to Sylvie's bed, and he sat up when he saw Sylvie grasp her side, her face screwed up in pain. "Hey, hey, hey," he stood and placed his hand on top of hers, reaching for the water glass on the table next to her. "It's OK. I got it."

Sylvie's clouded eyes looked around the room, then she took the water glass from Kelly and carefully took a few sips. After a few moments, she carefully rested back on the bed, closing her eyes as she focused on her breathing. "I feel like I got hit by a freight train," she mumbled, and Kelly quickly glanced over his shoulder to check the monitors. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, so he turned back to Sylvie as she readjusted her nasal cannula. "Though I can't tell if that's from the explosion or the pain meds," she frowned. "What do they have me on?"

"Hydromorphone," Kelly answered.

Sylvie hummed and slowly nodded. "The pain meds," she said decisively. "That explains why I can't feel my legs." It was so Sylvie that Kelly couldn't help but chuckle, and Sylvie gave him a dopey smile. She took another look around the room, frowning when she noticed there was no light coming through the blinds over the windows. "What time is it?" she asked, looking back at Kelly. "Have you been here all day?"

Kelly swallowed hard and took Sylvie's hand in both of his, careful to avoid the blood pressure monitor on her finger, and kissed her knuckles. "I'm not going anywhere," he told her simply.

Sylvie may have been pumped full of painkillers, but she could still give a megawatt smile that took Kelly's breath away. "Thank you," she said, slowly putting her water glass down.

Kelly brushed his thumb over her knuckles, placing their hands on the bed and watching Sylvie fall asleep again. "Anything for you," he whispered, knowing she wouldn't be able to hear.

And wasn't that a scary thought, realizing it was just that simple. He really would do anything for the best friend he had fallen in love with.

***

"Well," Crockett clicked his tongue, looking impressed as he ran through his checklist the next morning. "I'm beginning to wonder if there's some gene you have that makes you half cat, Brett. Do you have nine lives or something?"

Sylvie rolled her eyes, hearing the chuckles of the firefighters around her. "Very funny, Marcel."

"How's our girl, Marcel?" Boden asked from where he leaned against the wall with Herrmann and Stella.

"Her vitals were stable throughout the night," Crockett answered as Connor checked where Sylvie had been injured. "The only spikes I've seen were when she woke and immediately tried to move, which makes sense. Other than that, I see no reason why she wouldn't be able to go home tomorrow."

"I agree," Connor nodded, patting Sylvie's shoulder with a smile. "I definitely want you to stay one more night, but after that, you're free to go, though I would recommend you have someone stay with you in case something happens."

Cruz, Capp, Tony, and Violet turned at once to Kelly, who hadn't budged from the chair he had pulled up next to Sylvie's bed. As Gallo and Ritter snickered, Kelly shrugged uncaringly. "That was my plan anyway."

Connor laughed, taking the checklist from Crockett so the surgeon could continue his rounds. "I figured bunking with you was the other option, but her own home might be what she prefers."

"As long as I'm not stuck in this bed longer than I have to be, I'm good," Sylvie smiled, looking much better now that she was no longer on oxygen and had regained much of her color. She still looked tiny compared to the IV in her arm, the gown she wore, and the blankets piled on top of her, but she no longer appeared in pain. "Thanks, Connor."

"You're welcome, Sylvie," Connor smiled in return.

Sylvie fiddled with one of the IV tubes before looking around the room, her eyes finally settling on Stella. "You're OK?"

"Yeah," Stella nodded, her arms folded tightly in front of her. "You knocked me behind the table before the grenade blew. Archer said it would probably be me in that bed instead of you if you hadn't done that."

"Girl, you are a badass," Gallo grinned widely.

"But don't scare us like that again," Mouch narrowed his eyes and pointed at her. "Paramedics aren't supposed to get blown up like that."

"Firefighters shouldn't get blown up like that, either," Sylvie countered.

Carver smirked. "Why do I feel like that's a dig at certain members?"

Herrmann snorted. "Wait until Casey comes rolling in with the Dardens. You'll see why we keep eagle eyes on him, Brett, and Severide."

"You did call him, I assume?" Cruz raised an eyebrow at Kelly.

"First call I made after everyone left," Kelly nodded.

Sylvie groaned and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, great. How much mother henning am I going to be subjected to when he gets here from Portland?"

Violet giggled. "A lot."

A familiar redhead poked his head through the door, and Connor blinked. "Will?"

"Hey," Will gave his boyfriend a smile before looking at Sylvie with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You have a few more visitors to cram in here."

The members of 51 exchanged confused looks. As far as they knew, members of Intelligence would be dropping by later, but aside from the rest of the Cruzes and Med staff dropping in, they didn't know who else would be arriving. "Who?" Sylvie asked, shifting on the bed with a grimace. Will merely grinned wider and stepped to the side, letting a man Kelly had only seen in pictures on Sylvie's phone step into the doorway. His multicolor eyes locked onto Sylvie immediately, and the paramedic let out a cry of delight, struggling to sit upright. "Nolan!"

"Sylvie!" Nolan crossed the room faster than Kelly could blink, and somehow the siblings worked around Sylvie's IV and blood pressure monitor on her finger to hug each other tightly, Nolan cradling her to him like she was the most precious thing in existence. "Oh, thank God!"

"You made it!" Sylvie laughed hysterically, burrowing into Nolan as much as she could.

"Of course, I did," Nolan ran a hand over her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "As soon as Jack told me what happened, he sent me out of the office so I could get what I needed and come down here. An RPG? What the hell?"

"I'll say one thing." Kelly turned sharply and realized Will had been right when he mentioned visitors. A black woman with her hair in microbraids had stepped into the room and leaned against the doorframe, a small smile on her face. What caught everyone's eyes was the gold badge glinting on her belt. "If you weren't well-liked by the FDNY before, they're going to be tripping over their feet trying to get you up there now."

Sylvie ducked her head into Nolan's neck in embarrassment, making the prosecutor laugh as he perched on the edge of the mattress. "Ayanna!" the paramedic complained.

"Oh, don't you try that!" A pale young woman with her black hair cut in a bob pushed her way into the room and marched up to Sylvie. "Not after you had us believing this Kennedy person wasn't going to be a problem!"

"Kavanagh," the last person who entered the room, a young man who lingered by Ayanna, corrected the woman, though he was trying not to grin.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Kennedy, Kavanagh. I don't care. His RPG almost killed our girl."

"Your girl?" Cruz's eyebrows rose.

"She's our prosecutor's sister," the young woman pointed out.

"Jet," Sylvie sighed.

"What?" she asked defensively and folded her arms. "Am I wrong?"

Ayanna shook her head fondly and pushed off the doorframe, walking to the end of the bed. "In all seriousness," she said, lightly patting Sylvie's calf. "A lot of us were scared when news of the explosion hit Manhattan. It's good to see you're OK."

"She's the best," Violet gloated.

"Well," Connor cleared his throat, looking at Will where the redhead remained by the door. "It seems we're no longer needed."

"Wait, while you're here," Sylvie stopped them, lifting her head off of Nolan's shoulder but staying curled into his side. "Guys, this is my brother, Nolan, and three members of the Organized Crime Control Bureau task force he's worked with: Sergeant Ayanna Bell and Detectives Jet Slootmaekers and Bobby Reyes. Dr. Will Halstead is one of my best friends, he's an attending in the ED, and Dr. Connor Rhodes is the head of the ED and is also a trauma and cardiothoracic surgeon. He was one of the two doctors that worked on me."

"Thank you," Nolan said gratefully, holding Sylvie close to him.

"You're welcome," Connor smiled, shaking his free hand. "Sylvie means a hell of a lot to a bunch of us. We'll fix her up any day of the week . . . though we'd prefer she stay out of the ED."

Nolan snorted. "You and me both."

"Get out of here," Sylvie sighed, waving Connor away.

Connor laughed and exited the room, Will giving Sylvie a cheeky grin before following. "Who was the other surgeon?" Nolan asked Sylvie. "Marcel?"

"Yeah," Sylvie nodded, and Jet noticed the surprised looks exchanged by 51 members. What, did they think her brother wouldn't know some of the names Sylvie considered important? "You just missed him, but he'll probably be around later. But more introductions, going around the room: Darren Ritter, Engine 51; Blake Gallo, Truck 81; Sam Carver, newest addition to Truck 81; Randy McHolland, Truck 81; Lieutenant Stella Kidd, officer in charge of Truck 81; Lieutenant Christopher Herrmann, officer in charge of Engine 51; Deputy Chief Wallace Boden, supervising District 4 from our firehouse; Tony Ferraris, Harold Capp, and Joe Cruz, all on Squad 3 – "

"And Violet Mikami and Lieutenant Kelly Severide," Nolan finished for Sylvie, smiling at the pair who remained. "I don't need you to point them out to me."

"It would help me," Bobby muttered next to Ayanna, who snorted quietly.

"But it's good to finally meet everyone in person," Nolan smiled, extending his hand to Kelly. "Not the way I would have liked to meet, but I'm glad to finally do so."

"Likewise," Kelly nodded in agreement, finding himself at ease with Sylvie's older brother as he shook the prosecutor's hand. Now that Nolan had seen Sylvie was recovering for himself, he had visibly relaxed, though he still had an arm protectively around the blonde. "I'm glad you were able to make it."

"Sylvie said you prosecute homicide cases, though, right?" Cruz asked, glancing around at the police officers in the room. Jet had claimed a chair on the other side of Sylvie, and she had pulled a tablet from her backpack and was already working on it, her fingers a blur. "Why is organized crime here?"

"My team would've been here if they weren't in the middle of their own investigation," Nolan answered with a light chuckle. "In fact, they complained a hell of a lot when they learned there wasn't another team up to their standards that could take the case from them, but that just means they'll be badgering me for an update until I call them back with Sylvie next to me."

"That sounds like them," Ayanna grinned.

"And a weapons hawker isn't within SVU's purview, so they're not here," Nolan continued. "So, Bell's team is the best."

"Aww," Bobby grinned. "Thanks, Counselor."

Sylvie tilted her head onto Nolan's shoulder with a small frown. "Did Connor put pain meds in me again, or are there a few missing?"

Nolan smirked. "The entire squad flew out."

Kelly and Cruz looked at each other in confusion then looked back when Sylvie groaned. "Don't tell me you let Stabler loose in Chicago."

Nolan snorted. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I had him take Whelan with him," Ayanna smirked. "That should rein in Stabler's impulsiveness."

"Oh, my God," Sylvie buried her face in Nolan's jacket. Kelly knowing his best friend so well was the only reason he knew she was hiding a wide grin. "Please tell me you didn't sic Stabler on Kavanagh."

"Alright," Jet nodded absently, her eyes still on her tablet. "We won't tell you."

Sylvie openly laughed that time, reaching up to wipe away tears that had formed. "Oh, man . . . I hope you at least warned Jefferies."

"Of course," Nolan nodded. "I did, at least. It's still his territory."

"Hence why McCoy pays him the big bucks," Bobby added helpfully.

"Politics," Jet grumbled, sticking out her tongue in disgust.

Nolan rolled his eyes. "And that is why you weren't a witness in the Wheatley trial. No tact whatsoever."

"Then how do you explain your best friend?"

Sylvie's laughter turned hysterical at the grimace Nolan made. "She has you there!"

"Is it usually like this?" Herrmann asked Ayanna worriedly.

"With Jet?" Ayanna chuckled. "Oh, yes."

"So . . . who else is there?" Gallo asked in confusion.

"Detectives Elliot Stabler and Jamie Whelan," Ayanna explained. "Stabler is my second in command. Jamie and Bobby here just joined a few months ago."

"And why is Brett concerned about Stabler?" Mouch frowned.

Nolan cleared his throat. "Well, out of every member of law enforcement who heard about Campbell's attack on Sylvie and her friends – "

"That's everyone," Jet piped up helpfully.

" – Stabler was by far one of the most vocal in his . . . dislike of someone betraying their badge," Nolan said diplomatically, which made Jet and even Ayanna snort.

"I remember that," Capp realized, Tony nodding next to him. "Stone said he would be on a plane to arrest Kavanagh before someone finished asking him."

"You should've seen the smirk on his face when he heard the task force was coming," Nolan huffed. "If he hasn't collared the guy before the day is over, I'm going to be disappointed in him."

"I'll tell him you said that," Jet warned.

"Do it," Nolan smirked, his eyes suddenly swirling from amber to gunmetal grey. "The sooner that traitor is off the streets, the better."

The iron in his voice made the hairs on the back of Kelly's neck stand up. "You really don't like this guy, do you?" Herrmann asked.

He was surprised when Jet burst out laughing. "Lieutenant," Bobby grinned. "No one in New York likes this guy."

"Because he's a dirty cop?" Stella raised an eyebrow.

"That's part of it," Ayanna nodded. "In this job, trusting someone could be a life or death situation. No cop in the field would trust Kavanagh to watch their six when they know he's a dirty cop."

"And . . . well," Bobby gestured pointedly to the bed, where Nolan and Sylvie were closely entwined. "Come on. What New York cop isn't going to be pissed off at the dirty cop whose information is responsible for the sister of an ADA nearly getting killed not once, but twice?"

"Jalen was told about the Campbell situation while we were tracking Nelson's escape route in the subway tunnels," Sylvie remarked, her voice getting quieter. "His immediate reaction – and the patrol officers with us – was disgust and anger. That made it pretty clear to me what the NYPD thinks of Kavanagh."

She tried to muffle a yawn, and Boden chuckled. "Alright, 51. How about we leave her to get some rest?"

"That's all I'm doing," Sylvie complained, but she shifted to rest back on the bed as she spoke.

Ayanna smirked. "She's as stubborn as you, Price."

Kelly had no clue a man could look so smug. "We find new resemblances every time we're with each other," he said proudly.

Sylvie's cheeks flushed, but she looked just as proud. "We really do."

"I guess we'll find out more of them later," Mouch smiled, walking forward and patting Sylvie's leg. "Leave paramedicine to me while you're out, OK?"

"Thanks, Mouch," she smiled.

The rest of 51 bid Sylvie farewell with Cruz saying Chloe and Javi wanted to visit later. Sylvie happily agreed, and all three Squad firefighters hugged her before leaving. Violet fidgeted once she stood, then she abruptly walked around Sylvie's bed and looked at Nolan. "Can I hug you?" she asked, looking nervous. Nolan blinked once, then he smiled warmly and held open his arms. Violet looked ready to cry in relief as she hugged him fiercely, the prosecutor holding her close. "Thank you," she whispered. "For making sure that horrible monster won't hurt anyone again."

Nolan's expression darkened, but his voice was kind when he spoke. "Sylvie and I saw firsthand what he could do. There was no way I was going to let anyone else prosecute him."

Violet nodded and sniffed as she stepped back, wiping tears from her face. "Your brother is awesome," she declared to Sylvie.

Sylvie smiled in agreement. "I know he is."

Violet gave her a quick hug before she, too, left, and Kelly squeezed Sylvie's hand. "I'll be back later," he told her.

Sylvie nodded and snuggled into the blankets and pillows. "Make sure he eats something," she mumbled as she closed her eyes.

Kelly and Nolan exchanged confused looks, and Ayanna chuckled. "She might have been talking to both of you," she said. "I know for a fact that if Nolan ate before we got to the airport, it wasn't much."

Nolan sighed. "Thanks, Sergeant."

"I'll show you the cafeteria," Kelly said as he stood. "Sylvie's right. I didn't have much this morning, either. The good news is Med doesn't have a bad cafeteria."

"I'll stay with her," Jet volunteered from where she sat cross-legged in her chair.

"And we'll check in with Stabler and Whelan," Ayanna gestured to Bobby, who immediately nodded and stepped away, pulling out his phone as he did. "The more eyes there are on anything that remains of Martucci's operations here in Chicago, the sooner they're gone."

"Good," Nolan nodded in satisfaction. "Because I want them gone."

Bobby grinned. "Yes, sir."

Sergeant and detective departed down another hallway, and Kelly eyed Nolan. "Why do I get the feeling Sylvie undersold the amount of power you hold in New York?" he asked.

Nolan snorted. "Because she hasn't seen me use all of it." He nodded towards the elevator with a wry smile. "Shall we?"

***

"Truck and Ambo got the call to the standoff right after court, while everyone was celebrating," Kelly told Nolan as they claimed a table by one of the windows. "Chief Boden sent Squad 3 ahead of him, and Sylvie called and told me it was Martucci while we were en route. By the time we arrived, the bomb squad had already suited her and Kidd up, and they were heading into the house."

"An RPG," Nolan shook his head, stabbing a fork into his salad with more force than necessary. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad no one died . . . but my confidence in the CPD isn't very high right now, especially since Sylvie seems to keep getting into these situations."

Kelly cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I technically got her into these situations by initially agreeing to help Pryma with Campbell."

"But everything started going downhill when Pryma failed to warn you that Campbell was looking to kill you when he got out," Nolan countered. "If it weren't for the fact the detective took an RPG warhead to the leg trying to get his man, I'd storm into his room and demand answers from him." He sighed and shook his head, staring out the window. "But I know better than some people how police work when they zero in on their target and think of nothing else. And as much as I hate that Pryma put Sylvie and you in these situations, at least he was clean about it."

Kelly frowned, the words lingering in the back of his head. "I think I remember Sylvie muttering one time about a dirty cop while she was viciously cleaning the ambulance one morning . . . "

Nolan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, an irritated look on his face. "Bastard," he grumbled. "There was a case the 2-7 picked up a week or so after Sylvie left, one that the former mentor of my best friend believed was the latest in a line of serial killings. He claimed to find a necklace belonging to the victim in part of the crime scene the squad had already searched, and we debunked that before we could use that necklace in court. Thankfully, we were able to salvage the case because of a connection to my defense days, but this detective . . . well, he didn't take too kindly to us not using his contributions." He shrugged uncaringly. "So we threatened to comb through every conviction involving him and look for any signs of planted evidence and the like. It shut him up pretty quickly, and he's no longer a thorn in our side."

Kelly nodded in understanding. "Hence the hatred of dirty cops."

"It certainly strengthens it," Nolan agreed. "Look, when my best friend started with the 2-7, we fought like cats and dogs, even had a huge fight in the middle of the courthouse during one case. It was only after that conviction that we agreed to a truce, and we've been best friends ever since. During the investigation that involved all three teams, the evacuation of the hotel due to a bomb threat was broadcast live in New York, and watching and waiting to see if our teams would make it out before detonation was excruciating. The thought of a cop betraying their badge and being the one to watch his back . . . " The flash of fear in Nolan's eyes was the same flash Kelly imagined was in his when it came to Matt and Sylvie being in danger. "Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

"I do," Kelly nodded firmly. "In our line of work, you want your fellow firefighters to walk through them with you, not shove you into it and leave you to burn."

Nolan rested his forearms on the table and leveled an iron stare on Kelly. "And which will you be to my sister?"

There it is, Kelly thought, resisting the urge to shiver under that steely gaze that had likely made the worst of New York's worst break. There's the protective big brother making an appearance. He had expected to be under Nolan's scrutiny eventually, given how close he was to Sylvie. He just never could have anticipated the prosecutor's intensity when he challenged him. Kelly knew how much Sylvie loved Nolan, he heard it in her delighted voice from calls at the firehouse and the way she brightened at every text.

Now here was the man himself, and if there was one thing Kelly could claim he knew for certain as emerald eyes met thundercloud grey, he knew Nolan Price fiercely loved the little sister he had found. Hell, he had all but ordered the organized crime team to wipe out the rest of Martucci's influence just because Sylvie had been in the wrong place at the very wrong time with an RPG! "I'd burn in the fire to make sure she walked out," he answered firmly. "Every time."

Nolan was silent as he contemplated Kelly's answer. "Good," he finally nodded, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction as he sipped his coffee. "That's the impression I got about you from how Sylvie talked about you. I'm glad her faith is justified." Kelly's eyes widened in surprise, but an unfamiliar ringtone kept him from responding. Nolan checked his jacket pockets, then he checked his phone's Caller ID. He grinned and placed his phone on the table, tapping the screen to put it on speaker. "How's your sightseeing coming along, Detective?" he asked.

"Well, it's not Manhattan," came a voice Kelly recalled from the phone call Sylvie had made months ago, making him Elliot Stabler. "So that's unfortunate. The people sure are interesting, though."

"Are they?" Nolan smirked. "Anyone in particular?"

"Oh, you'll love to meet this one. We've had a nice chat and everything. Funny thing is, I don't think he likes me that much."

"And why's that?"

There was a thud on the other end of the line, and a cheery male voice saying "Whoops!" before the telltale sound of a car door shutting. "Well, we don't like him, either, so that's probably part of it," Elliot remarked.

Nolan snickered. "You hate Kavanagh, Stabler."

"Fine, put it the harsh way. I was trying to be diplomatic for the sake of the bystanders who just watched two NYPD detectives arrest a CPD officer."

Nolan rolled his eyes in exasperation, but his amusement was plain to see. "Thank you, Stabler. That's a relief to hear."

"Whelan and I will take him to the closest precinct. Think Brett may be up for visitors after that?"

Nolan raised an eyebrow at Kelly, deferring to the man who had been by Sylvie's side the longest. "She might be," Kelly answered, tapping his fingers on the table as he thought. "She woke up intermittently through the night, and depending on how much painkillers she's on, she may be out for a while."

"That's Severide," Nolan added.

"Nice to put a voice to the name," Elliot said. "Alright, I'll check in with Ayanna after we drop off Kavanagh. Is Jet with her or still at the hospital?"

"She stayed with Sylvie."

"I'll ask her to let us know when she wakes up. Chances are, CPD is going to want us to stop getting the better of them as soon as possible."

Kelly snorted. "Get a picture of the Intelligence Unit's faces if you run into them, will you?"

"Funny, Liv and Stone asked for the same thing," Elliot said, and Kelly grinned. "If we do, I'll try and get that picture. Whelan may have better luck than me. Give Sylvie our best, OK?"

"We will," Nolan smiled. "Thanks, Stabler. And good job collaring your guy."

"Told you I'd collar him the first chance I got. That's something I get to hold over your team's head."

Nolan rolled his eyes with a huff. "See you later."

"See you, Price."

A click signaled the end of the call, and Nolan picked up his phone to put it away. "That should put a damper on any operations Kavanagh was vital for," he said happily.

"I'm just glad someone's finally doing something," Kelly said gratefully. "Having to watch my back for Kavanagh was bad enough. With Pryma playing all his cards close to his chest, we had no idea how his investigations were going."

"New York looks out for its own," Nolan smiled. "So get used to it when it comes to Sylvie."

Kelly nodded, gathering his trash on his tray. "I definitely will."

***

When they reached Sylvie's room again, it was no longer just Jet with her. Sylvie was sitting upright, nodding seriously as little Makayla Ward Burgess perched on the bed and laid out a collection of frosted glass on the blanket. Kim stood above her adopted daughter, hand on her shoulder as she watched the pair interact. Hailey sat next to Jet, the pair of detectives with their heads inclined towards each other as they spoke.

"Sea glass," Kelly explained to Nolan, smiling as they lingered in the doorway and watched Sylvie question Makayla about her finds. "Makayla loves collecting it. Burgess always ends up with pieces in her pockets when she goes to work."

"Not just her." Kelly glanced to the side to see Jay stand from another chair, Hank remaining seated. "I think additional drawers will need to be built into our desks so we have room for it all," he said dryly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of the glass.

Kelly chuckled. "At least there's an abundance of material if you want to have a gift made for your girls . . . all three of them."

"That's true," Jay agreed with a laugh, placing the glass back in his pocket so he could hold out his hand to the prosecutor who was watching Sylvie with a soft look. "You must be Nolan. I'm Detective Jay Halstead."

"Nice to meet you, Detective," Nolan smiled, shaking his hand. "And this is Hailey, Kim, and Makayla?"

"That's us," Hailey nodded, hopping up from her place by Jet so she could shake Nolan's hand next. "I'm glad you finally made it down our way."

"Wish it was for a better reason, though," Kim smiled apologetically.

"Me, too," Nolan gave Sylvie a wry grin, to which she smiled innocently in return. "Don't give me that look. No matter how many warnings you and Stone gave me, no one ever told me an RPG was a reason you would be put in the hospital."

Hank chuckled as he, too, stood from his corner chair. "Spoken like a true brother. Welcome to Chicago, Mr. Price."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Nolan nodded. "And I apologize for whatever trail of destruction the organized crime task force may be leaving in its path."

"Hey, we're being as careful as we can!" Jet frowned as she looked up from her computer. "Martucci's people aren't exactly sharp. I'm finding his people all over the city."

Nolan folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "And you're letting CPD make some of these arrests, right?"

"Of course," Jet rolled her eyes. "They're getting the ones that aren't close to my team."

Kelly smirked at Sylvie. "Fifty bucks says that means the task force is getting most of them."

"No bet!" Sylvie chirped. "I have no interest in losing fifty bucks on a fool's bet. Sorry, Kelly."

Kelly shrugged. "Worth a shot."

"You sound like you're feeling better," Nolan noted, walking to Sylvie's bed.

"Painkillers are a wonderful thing," Sylvie smiled up at him. "Just don't let me hug someone I don't know, OK?"

Nolan's eyebrows rose, and he looked at Kelly for an explanation. "You know how tactile she is, right?" the lieutenant asked.

Nolan nodded in understanding. "And the drugs up it?"

"And getting drunk," Sylvie nodded. "As you remember."

That got Nolan several startled looks, but the prosecutor just laughed. "I'm surprised you let me go long enough to stumble to the guest room when we did that bar crawl."

Sylvie shrugged. "If we'd been any more hungover, we wouldn't have been near the subway station."

Nolan's expression shuttered, but his touch was gentle as he ran his fingers through Sylvie's hair. "Good point."

"Benson kept me up to date on that trial," Hank said, leaning against the wall and watching the pair of siblings. "She also warned me that Sylvie's involvement in the trial means that several FDNY houses are interested in poaching her."

Kelly's eyes widened at the thought, but Nolan shrugged. "I wouldn't say no to having my sister in the same city."

Makayla abruptly looked up from sorting her sea glass to frown at Nolan. "Aunt Sylvie is ours," she said stubbornly.

Nolan blinked in surprise at the girl, and Kim laughed proudly. "That's my girl!"

"Don't worry, Mac," Sylvie giggled, turning a piece of sea glass around in her hand. "My brother knows I like where I am."

Makayla blinked and looked up at Nolan curiously. "He's your brother?"

"I am," Nolan nodded with a kind smile at the girl. "My name is Nolan. Yours is Makayla, right?"

"That's me," Makayla confirmed, then she looked at Sylvie. "If he's your brother, does that mean he's my uncle?"

Nolan did a double take, and Sylvie burst into a peal of laughter. "You're just collecting all the police kids, aren't you?" she crowed.

"You got me," Nolan nodded somberly, though his eyes shone amber with mirth. "My evil plan is to make every police officer's kid a member of my family. That way, it's much easier to make a power grab later in life." Sylvie guffawed, and Nolan let his smile break free as he pulled up a chair to sit by Sylvie. It also meant he was eye level with Makayla. "Just because I'm Sylvie's brother, that doesn't mean you have to call me your uncle," he told her. "I would never expect someone who just met me to call me something if you don't want to."

Makayla's dark eyes curiously examined Nolan, and the prosecutor waited patiently. Makayla eventually nodded and looked up at Kim. "I like him," she said with all the confidence of a young girl, making Kim smile ear to ear. "Can I call him my uncle?"

Kim looked at Nolan, and the prosecutor smiled and nodded. "Of course, you can, hon," she said, running her hand through Makayla's hair. "I think he'll be an excellent uncle."

Nolan appeared pleased by Kim's assessment, and Jay hummed in approval, his arm slung around Hailey's shoulders. "He's good with kids."

"The test will be if he and the Dardens ever cross paths," Hailey noted.

A knock on the doorframe made everyone look up, and Sylvie brightened and straightened in her bed. "Whelan!"

"Hey, Brett," a dark-haired man with a badge around his neck walked into the room, pausing to give Nolan a nod before patting Sylvie's leg. "Looking good for getting yourself blown up."

Sylvie made a face. "The RPG blew up. I didn't. Or I would be a zombie now." She frowned and inspected herself. "I don't think I'm a zombie."

A snort came from the doorway. "How many painkillers is she on?"

Sylvie perked up with a smile, and Nolan shook his head in exasperation. "I have no idea."

"Stabler!" Sylvie cheered. "Thank you for handling that backstabbing dirty cop. I never want to see him again."

"Happy to collar him for you, principessa," Elliot chuckled, stepping into the room and bending down to carefully hug her. "And all the other bastards on Martucci's payroll."

"How many are left?" Jamie asked, peering over Jet's shoulder to look at her work.

Jet shrugged. "Enough that they can be the CPD's problem."

Hank sighed. "Thank you for leaving enough work for us."

"Happy to," Elliot smirked. "Gives you enough time to match what we did."

"Don't fight with Voight," Sylvie pouted at him. "You don't want Voight on your bad side." She considered then pointed at Hank. "And don't fight with Stabler. I can't referee that fight, and I don't want Nolan to do it, either."

Nolan snorted in amusement, quickly covering his mouth to stifle further laughter. Jet and Jamie openly laughed, and Elliot shrugged with a laugh. "How do you argue with that?"

"You don't," Jay deadpanned.

Hailey snickered, and Hank shook his head as he stepped forward. "We really shouldn't," he said, holding out his hand. "Benson speaks highly of you, Detective. Good to finally meet you."

"Likewise, Sergeant," Elliot nodded, shaking his hand in return. "Good to know the NYPD has some friends here in Chicago."

Nolan looked up sharply at the casual tone, but Hank merely smirked. "When it comes to Brett, you do."

Elliot nodded in satisfaction. "Good."

"How bad of an idea was this?" Jet whispered to Nolan.

Nolan hummed contemplatively. "Better to have them get along if it means Sylvie is safer."

Jet nodded, accepting the answer as she looked at her work. "You're telling Benson and Stone."

Nolan smirked. "Copy that."

***

It was funny, Kelly would later think, to watch five organized crime members split their time between taking down members of Martucci's gang and handling anything Sylvie needed when she was recovering at home. Kelly also caught Nolan and Jet with their heads together, discussing something quietly between them and not giving any hint to what they were saying. The most entertaining meeting by far was when Mouch came by Sylvie's apartment to talk to her about paramedicine, and Trudy had come with him when Ayanna was there and finishing reports. The two sergeants had sized each other up, and by the time Sylvie had finished arranging her routes with Mouch, the two women had hit it off and were comparing ways they kept Hank and Elliot in line.

"Captain Karns is still interested in your program, by the way," Nolan told Sylvie at the end of her second week of recovery when the task force had returned to New York.

"He is?" Sylvie asked, scratching Tuesday's head as the Dalmatian curled up on 51's sofa next to her.

"Definitely," Nolan nodded, stepping away from the coffee machine to join her. "Manhattan has several frequent fliers after COVID, too. I know the 225 specifically has a few in their jurisdiction, and I know the past few gatherings we've had, the parents have been complaining about consistent ambulance calls on their way to pick up the kids."

"Gatherings?" Violet looked up curiously from the table.

Capp, Tony, Gallo, and Ritter turned in their chairs, too, to give Nolan their full attention. If Nolan was phased by it, he didn't show it as he sat on the arm of the sofa next to Sylvie. "SVU, OC, and the 2-7," he said simply, crossing one leg over the other and draping his free arm around Sylvie's shoulders. "Turns out when SVU and OC hunt down the killer of a cop's wife and the 2-7's prosecutor takes the lead on it, it's a great bonding experience for all three teams."

Sylvie snickered into her coffee. "Why did you have to prosecute?" Mouch frowned. "SVU has Stone, right?"

"They do," Nolan nodded. "But one of the many defenders Wheatley hired before he settled on one was able to get Stone off the case. He's with Benson, and the cop in question was Stabler, her brother in all but blood."

Herrmann frowned. "Doesn't sound like a close enough connection to me."

"It didn't to us, either," Nolan shrugged. "But if you can argue it successfully, you can make it happen." Mouch and Herrmann made disgusted faces, and Nolan smiled wryly. "Welcome to the politics of the courtroom, gentlemen. Sometimes the outcome just depends on who's able to sweet talk the jury the best."

"Or who makes the biggest, most convincing spectacle," Sylvie mused.

Nolan grimaced. "Now you're making me wish I could spike my coffee."

"Part of your closing statement was revisiting the subway station, right?" Gallo asked quietly.

Sylvie balked, and Nolan sighed and nodded, moving his hand to run it through Sylvie's hair. "It was," he confirmed. "Nelson's defender is known for putting on a show to appeal to members of the jury, and she put on a great one with the psychologist she brought in. Sylvie volunteered to give her testimony for the trial, and part of my closing was to show them the crime scene. How could a man like Nelson pull off the mass murder and plan his escape like he did if he was mentally ill?"

Violet's hands tightened around her mug, and she stared down into her coffee as Ritter rubbed her back comfortingly. "I'm glad he's gone," she said.

Nolan nodded in agreement. "So are we."

"Speaking of gone." Everyone looked up as Boden entered the room, a look of confused amusement on his face as Kelly followed him. "I just received a call from Commissioner Grissom."

"The commissioner?" Cruz did a double take. "What for?"

"Please don't tell me he's stealing Kelly for OFI again," Sylvie groaned.

"No, he isn't," Boden shook his head. "He just called to inform me that Emma Jacobs's employment with the CFD has been terminated, effective immediately . . . and he is working to blacklist her from every fire department henceforth."

Stella, who had followed behind the chief and his second in command, stopped in her tracks, her eyes blown wide. "What?" Carver's jaw dropped as Violet's mug crashed to the floor from her frozen hands.

"Finally!" Gallo whooped.

"How did that happen?" Mouch asked in disbelief and looked at Violet. "I thought you said her boss refused to fire her without evidence!"

"He did say that!" Violet sputtered. "I've been trying to find some!"

"Whatever the commissioner received, he was utterly furious," Boden said. "I don't think I've ever heard him sound so upset."

"One of his paramedic chiefs was being blackmailed by one of his own medics," Mouch pointed out. "I think that's a perfect reason to be upset."

"But how did he find out?" Stella frowned. "No one went directly to the commissioner, did they?"

Sylvie glanced around the room and found her coworkers looked just as confused. Her brother, on the other hand, was holding his mug close to his mouth . . . and she knew his actions well enough to know when he was hiding a smile. "What did you do?" she asked.

"Me?" Nolan raised an eyebrow at her. "I didn't do anything."

Sylvie narrowed her eyes when she heard the emphasis. "Who did do something?"

Nolan shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, well aware of all the eyes on him. "I seem to recall mentioning Emma Jacobs and her actions while in Jet's presence."

Stella's jaw dropped, and Sylvie stared at her brother. "You had Jet find whatever she could on Emma . . . and then she sent it to our commissioner?"

"I suggested it," Nolan corrected. "What she decided to do with her time is entirely up to her."

Carver, Ritter, and Gallo gawked at Nolan with wide eyes, and Mouch and Herrmann exchanged startled looks. Stella resembled a fish with how her mouth opened and closed, and even Boden looked warily at Nolan. "You suggested to the best tech specialist around that she should find proof Emma was blackmailing Hawkins," Sylvie said slowly.

"I suggested that it would make everyone's lives at 51 better if Emma wasn't a problem," Nolan said innocently. "I remember everyone ranting about her on the phone, then she turned up in Internal Affairs and stuck her nose in 51 again. Was I wrong?"

"What the hell, Brett?" Herrmann gulped, turning to look at Sylvie. "Your brother is scary."

Nolan smirked. "I don't like people who may be a threat to my sister."

The bells chose to ring at that moment, summoning all rigs to action. There was a mad dash to leave the room, and Sylvie's hysterical laughter followed them as Nolan cheerily raised his mug in a mock toast. "What the hell was that?" Stella demanded, her voice pitched higher than normal.

"I think we've just been threatened by Manhattan's best prosecutor after the District Attorney," Mouch gulped.

"Easy lesson to learn, though," Cruz remarked, climbing into the back of Squad 3. "Don't be a threat to Sylvie."

Gallo, meanwhile, glanced in concern at Ritter as the man dazedly donned his gear. "You OK, Ritter?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ritter cleared his throat. "Just . . . that was hot as hell."

Gallo and Violet's raucous laughter distracted everyone from the pinched look on Stella's face as she waited for Mouch to pull out of the station.

***

Nolan flew out of Chicago three days later after being recalled to New York for a trial that required his expertise. Sylvie's obvious sorrow at her brother's departure was evident even once she returned to duty at Firehouse 51, no matter how often Violet tried to cheer her up. Even Makayla talked about missing her new uncle, which made Sylvie ready to cry when she heard the girl ask when he would be back. No one, not even Sylvie herself, had an answer. Sylvie had learned in New York just how quickly cases could pop up for all three NYPD teams, and she knew how lucky she had been to have Nolan stay as long as he did. As Jack's second, he was rarely missing from the courthouse, and his expertise was invaluable for every department. Honestly, she was surprised he hadn't been called back to New York sooner.

"So you've seen him prosecute a crime boss in state court and a mass murderer in federal court," Carver said at Molly's two weeks into Sylvie's return to duty. "Have you actually seen him prosecute regular homicides? I mean, I get that I'm relatively new, but that's his jurisdiction, right? Homicides?"

"High-profile homicides," Sylvie nodded. "Yes, that's Nolan's jurisdiction. He and Sam prosecute for the Manhattan North Homicide Squad. But since I've never seen McCoy prosecute, Nolan is the highest-ranked prosecutor in the courthouse. If there's a high enough case that McCoy thinks should be handled, it passes to Nolan. Those were two outliers, especially since Nolan and Sam were temporarily made federal prosecutors for Nelson's case. I've seen him handle homicide cases, too." She swirled her wine around in its glass, knowing Kelly, Violet, Herrmann, and Mouch were listening because they were so close to her place at the bar. "And I'd argue that there aren't any regular homicides. I think the 2-7 would say they've never seen your usual run of the mill murder."

"With some of the cases we've seen Intelligence tackle?" Herrmann snorted as he cleaned a glass. "I believe it."

"What are you gonna do about this one captain's interest in paramedicine?" Violet asked. "Karns, right?"

"Yeah, Karns," Sylvie nodded. "He's in charge of the firehouse right down the block from the courthouse, the 225. His house responded to the cut artery my first day there." She giggled as she sipped her wine. "It's amazing what you can get done with police who are willing to listen to you when you're improvising. Anyway, Benson and Stabler found out he started looking into me shortly after, and yeah, he found out about paramedicine."

"I don't see why you shouldn't try and form something in New York," Mouch remarked. "It's been a huge success here, so you likely wouldn't get as much pushback starting it up there."

"And it sounds like you'd have the NYPD backing you, too," Herrmann added. "And then there's your brother and Stone with the DA's office. That's a lot of allies, Brett."

"I'm sorry, are you trying to make her run to New York?" Violet scowled. "I like her right here."

"Yeah," Kelly narrowed his eyes at the engine lieutenant. "Matt's gone and up in Portland. I'm not giving up Sylvie without a fight."

Sylvie rolled her eyes fondly, frowning when she felt her phone buzz on the bartop. "It would just be to start up a paramedicine branch, guys. It would take a hell of a lot to make me leave Chicago." She checked the Caller ID on her phone and paled, muttering a curse when she saw how long her phone had been ringing. "Brett," she said as she answered her phone.

"Oh, thank God, Sylvie." Frank's voice sounded rushed and relieved; in the background, she could hear familiar but faint voices shouting back and forth. "I need your help, and I need it now."

Sylvie pushed her glass to the side and pressed her phone close to her ear, biting her lip at how tense the detective sounded. "What happened?" she asked, aware the activity around her had slowed. "What are you dealing with?"

"Male, late 30s or early 40s, and he's got a deep laceration close to his shoulder," Frank reported. "With the way it's bleeding, it makes me think it's an artery of some kind. We're out on the streets, and we don't have a med kit with us. The laceration is at a weird angle, and no matter what we try, we can't stop the bleeding. I don't think a tie will work with this."

"No, it doesn't sound like it," Sylvie agreed, tapping her fingers as she thought. "You said 'we?' You aren't alone?"

"No, I'm not. Jalen and I were helping Benson and Fin at Bronx SVU when they got called to a case with Detective Bruno. We went with them, and . . . well, here we are."

Sylvie did a double take. "Wait . . . what the hell are you doing in the Bronx?!"

"Long story. What do we do?"

"OK," Sylvie took a deep breath, closing her eyes and gathering her thoughts. "If you aren't on speaker phone, can you switch now?"

"Yeah, hang on." A faint click sounded, and the background noise became much clearer. "There we are."

"Jalen?" she asked. "Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Sylvie," the younger detective confirmed.

"OK," Sylvie nodded. "Send me a video of that wound so I have a better idea of what we're dealing with."

"On it."

"Anyone else there who isn't actively working to stop the bleeding, I need you to canvas the area," Sylvie ordered. Herrmann quickly cleared away items from the bar in front of her, and Sylvie gratefully put her phone down on the bartop and turned it to speaker as well. "I need to know everything we can use, whether it's from a store, someone's house, someone's car . . . hell, someone's gardening shed. I don't care – if you can carry it, I need to know it's there."

"Copy that!" she heard Fin call.

"Camera's ready," Jalen said.

"Be careful removing what pressure you're already using," Sylvie warned.

"Yes, ma'am," an unfamiliar voice answered; that must have been Bruno.

She recognized Olivia's gasp a second later, then Frank cursed. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

Violet looked at Sylvie in concern, and the blonde winced. "That's not making me confident, guys."

"There's a reason I called you to help, Sylvie!"

"I got it!" Jalen said sharply. "It's on its way to you, Sylvie."

"Thanks," Sylvie nodded, tapping the message when it arrived. "Alright, what are we dealing with . . . "

Kelly stood from his stool so Mouch could take his place, and he and Carver stood to watch over Sylvie's shoulder as Mouch and Violet leaned in to watch the video with Sylvie. Whatever color the man's shirt had been was now drenched red from the gaping wound in the curve of his upper arm, blood gushing like a waterfall. "Oh, my God," Carver balked.

"Brett, that thing is pumping," Violet gulped.

"Yeah," Sylvie swallowed hard, her heart suddenly beating much faster. That was not something she could blame on the alcohol. "OK, guys, with that amount of hemorrhaging, I think her axillary artery was torn."

"I figured it was an artery," Frank concurred. "What do we need to do?"

"Because of the angle, you need to apply an even amount of pressure to the wound at a slope that matches the curve," Sylvie answered. "And since you don't have med kits, I'm guessing you don't have a junctional tourniquet?"

"A what?" Jalen asked blankly.

"What kind of tourniquet is that?" Bruno asked, sounding just as confused.

"I'm taking that as a no," Sylvie rubbed her forehead. "OK, so we're improvising again." She rewatched the video, her mind running through multiple options. "Are there any motorcycles in your location?"

"I remember seeing a few," Olivia answered.

"Knock on doors until you get an owner," Sylvie ordered. "You can fit that along the laceration. Please tell me you took cars and one of them has jumper cables?"

"We have them in ours," Jalen said.

"Get them!"

"Copy!"

"How do you have a paramedic on speed dial?" Bruno asked in disbelief.

An inelegant snort came from Frank. "Do you really need to know that right now?"

"Guys!" Sylvie snapped.

Violet winced, and Kelly placed a calming hand on Sylvie's shoulder. "Sorry, Sylvie," Frank sighed wearily. "Tempers are running short right now."

"Here!" Olivia suddenly called.

A thud sounded close to the phone. "Got the helmet, Sylvie!" Frank told her.

"OK," Sylvie rubbed her hands together. "Press the rounded surface of the helmet against the wound. When Shaw gets back, tie it into place with the cables as tightly as you can."

"Got it. Change on one, two, three!"

A weary groan of discomfort came over the phone, signifying the helmet was in place, then Jalen's voice came over the speaker. "Got the cables!"

"Good," Frank responded. "Bruno, help me get these around him."

"Copy," the other man answered.

"Is there any specific tie we're looking for?" Frank asked.

"Whatever is the tightest you can make it," Sylvie answered firmly. "I don't want that helmet to slip even a little bit. Better to have to cut the cables off than to lose the victim en route."

"Good point. Alright, Jalen, make sure that doesn't slip."

"Got it," Jalen agreed.

"OK . . . heads up, buddy. This is probably gonna hurt."

A second later, the man's pain-filled scream sounded over the phone, and Sylvie buried her face in her hands, her heart skipping several beats. The bar hushed around them with how loud her phone had been, and Kelly's grip on her shoulder tightened. Violet was fidgeting anxiously in her seat, and Mouch and Herrmann were looking at each other in worry. "Guys?" Sylvie finally asked quietly. "Talk to me."

"Cables are tied," Frank answered.

"And the bleeding?"

There were a few seconds, then Bruno inhaled sharply. "What the hell?"

"That did it!" Jalen laughed in exhausted delight. "Sylvie, the bleeding stopped!"

Sylvie let out a sound that was half laugh and half sob, dropping her head onto her arms in relief. "Atta girl!" Herrmann grinned proudly as Carver whooped.

"Way to go, Sylvie," Frank praised, and Sylvie blushed at the pride in his voice she could hear over the applause from nearby bar patrons. "You're a miracle worker."

"Just doing my job," she smiled weakly. "You did the hard work. I just gave you the instructions."

"Considering what you did at the courthouse and in the subway station, I know that's all I needed," Frank said firmly, and Sylvie ducked her head, knowing she was blushing even redder. "Take a compliment, will you? Or I'll tell Nolan."

Her head whipped up, and she glared at her phone. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would," Frank promised, a note of glee in his voice. "And you know I would."

Sylvie pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to smile. "Yeah," she conceded. "I know you would. Fine, I'll take the compliment."

"Besides," Frank's tone lightened. "Now I can say I know how to really improvise a tourniquet."

Sylvie burst out laughing, startling Mouch, Carver, and Violet away from her. "Only you would find a positive like that in this situation!"

"I'm a homicide detective, Sylvie. I'd be way more pessimistic if I did anything else." The faint wail of sirens came on the speaker, and the sound of activity increased. "Paramedics are arriving. Do you want to stay on the line and talk to them?"

"Yeah, I should," Sylvie nodded, shimmying off her stool. "Give me a moment to get somewhere private."

"Copy you."

She turned the speaker off and tucked her phone under her ear. "I'll be right back," she said before hustling towards the back of the bar.

Five pairs of eyes watched her leave, then Herrmann huffed and took Sylvie's empty glass. "Did we just get introduced to her brother's team and not even know it?"

"The one detective said homicide," Kelly frowned, arms folded as he craned his neck to see if he could see Sylvie. He still could; she was pacing by the back door as she spoke. "I guess if medics took that long to arrive, it makes sense they would call her."

"That wasn't what Sylvie was initially wondering, though." Kelly looked at Carver with a frown, and the firefighter shrugged. "She said they were in the Bronx."

Violet blinked in confusion. "Why were Manhattan teams working in the Bronx?"

Mouch frowned worriedly. "Better question that might affect Sylvie . . . how big of a case could it be if two branches of the NYPD were working together?"

"Considering how worried she looked walking those detectives through a tourniquet like that?" Herrmann whistled lowly as he put a fresh glass at Sylvie's seat and poured a generous amount of rosé wine into it. "Pretty damn big."

That made Kelly's skin crawl uneasily, and he alternated between listening to the theories being tossed out by the four others and looking to check in on Sylvie. It sure sounded like Nolan could be handling one of those big cases again soon, and yes, that was worrying.

So why the hell was he more interested in the fact that Sylvie had sounded way, way more familiar with the one homicide detective than she had been with the OCCB task force combined?

***

Oh, Kelly . . . your Price isn't the Price this detective is into XD But you'll find that out later.

So this was Manhattan-lite, but next time there will be more appearances from other New York characters . . . and it will actually be a little Nolan-lite. There will be a similar big focus in Chicago, though not necessarily for a good reason. It's the chapter before the final one (and it really should be this time), which means it's got to pack a punch, right? Let's just say I've got a pretty good plan to make that happen.

See you next time!

graphic by marvelity