#Honey pass me the off brand Tylenol

[mylove-thresher]

I’m feeling like absolute dogshit but I had to lock in and draw a silly little fugo. Obv. He cures my pain. Or she. Whatever. Go my little pronoun

[ssa-lesbian]

this is how i will love you, even as the world goes on its wicked way (1/1)

word count: 2.97k

The fever comes two days after landing in Paris.

-> read on AO3

(content / trigger warning: fever, vomiting, curse words, implied suicide ideation.)

—

Emily Prentiss does not get sick. She feels her throat close up and drinks some hot water before driving in for work. Her nose is clogged and she barks out a laugh at Morgan’s pathetic joke and pokes Reid in the side when he stammers at the innuendo. There’s a pounding in her temples and she closes her eyes for a moment before standing at the precinct and telling officers their unsub is a sociopath and they needed to be aware of those whose smiles were too wide and eyes too charming.

JJ asks her if she’s okay after flinching at the bright sunlight, and Emily flashes her her signature smirk, and even though JJ’s eyes are still filled with concern, she drops it, and they continue their stroll through the Musee d’Orsay because she knows JJ loves old paintings and the Louvre is too busy and crowded for one last walk with someone she must forget. And even if the Metro ride there is loud and shaky and fluorescent lights blinding, her head spinning is worth the way JJ’s eyes glitter in dim light, hand still clasped tightly in Emily’s as she gazes at the massive wall-size paintings.

On the fourth day, Emily collapses.

She tries to make a joke out of it, but her throat has closed up and she’s breathing hot air and this bedroom floor is as grimy as a dog’s ass (dog’s ass?), and the only sound she can make is an undignified grunt.

“Oh my God— oh my God, Em.”

There’s something wet sliding down her face. Is she crying? Or is that sweat? She can’t feel anything and her eyes are burning. She lets out a groan.

Someone takes her shoulder and rolls her over, and Emily’s head lolls to the side, the only thing keeping her up the strong, calloused hands of JJ, her pretty face blurring in and out of Emily’s vision. Her other hand brushes against her forehead.

“Em, you’re burning up,” she hears, and in one smooth move, JJ picks her up and back into bed.

“Unh,” Emily says.

“I know, I know,” is the reply, and JJ rearranges the sheets so that only the thin bedsheet is covering her instead of the thick duvet she sleeps in. “Let me get you a cloth, you’re gonna be just fine.”

“Unh,” Emily protests, because her skin is burning up and she’s blinking back hot tears and her head hurts so much and the only thing that would make it all better would be to see JJ and her soft, pink lips.

It feels like a lifetime when JJ returns, which is impossible because the bathroom is right next to Emily’s bedroom (in her old apartment it was down the hall, and Emily considered it a major design flaw but not one worth buying another home for), but JJ returns, and she comes back with her honey-voiced murmurs and a cool cloth laid across her forehead.

“You’ll be fine, Emily,” she says. “You’re so strong.”

Emily doesn’t tell her that the cloth has long dried up because if she does, JJ will leave her again.

The day passes by with Emily floating in and out of consciousness, head pounding every time she opens her eyes, and the only things she can recall are JJ’s hushed murmurs as she talks about getting better and being okay and the way JJ’s thumb traces gentle circles over her knuckles, fingers still intertwined, curled up in the armchair on Emily’s bedside. JJ orders takeout with what little French she retained from her high school years, exhaling sharply every time she pronounces an unnecessary consonant, and when the doorbell rings and JJ stands to answer, Emily grabs her hand.

“Unh,” she says with as much emotion as possible, and JJ’s eyebrows knit together.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” she says, and she squeezes Emily’s hand, but she doesn’t let go.

You only came back after I died, Emily tries to say.

“Unh,” comes out.

In the end, Emily is too tired to hold JJ back, and as her hand falls limply to the bed and she watches JJ slip out her bedroom, she curses her body for betraying her.

French Chinese takeout is similar to American Chinese takeout, Emily notes: oily, savory, and mouth-watering. JJ doesn’t let her eat the stir-fry (apparently it’s bad for her stomach) and passes her small amounts of fluffy jasmine rice and wet bak-choy, but Emily can only barely hold down the pitiful foods JJ passes her.

JJ gets Emily a pitcher (an entire pitcher) of water on her nightstand for the night and promises that she’ll be there if Emily needs anything and Emily just needs to yell, and Emily lets out a thankful grunt. Closing her eyes, Emily drifts off to the blood roaring in her head, mouth hanging open slightly to breathe properly. 

Emily wakes up to a burning sensation on her chest and in her stomach and in her eyes, and fuck it, she is the burning sensation, and she tries to call for JJ.

“Jayje,” she says, words slurring, and even though she tried to say “JJ”, it works for now.

The way JJ appears in her door frame is like some God-given miracle, and even through her blurred vision, Emily can never forget those blue eyes.

“Em, what’s wrong?”

She crosses the room in quick strides and leans over Emily, and when her gold curls fall over Emily’s face and her nightshirt hangs lower than any work attire would require, her heart skips a beat.

“God, you’re burning,” JJ says, and if Emily weren’t so delirious, she would say JJ sounds almost worried, but JJ is never worried, pretty, perfect, media liaison JJ is never worried, the way she holds her chin up and the way her eyes always meet the other person’s.

“Don’t leave me,” Emily says, and JJ’s hand cups Emily’s cheek, shaking slightly from the heat radiating off of her.

“I need to get you some water,” comes as a whisper, and she disappears despite Emily’s groan.

When she comes back, the bedsheets are spread haphazardly around the bed from Emily’s weak attempts at kicking them off, and balancing the small tub of water and towels on her right hand and hip, JJ plucks off the bedsheets with ease, and Emily relaxes as JJ settles into her seat.

"You’re going to be fine, Em,” she says, draping another towel over Emily’s forehead before wetting another one. “We just need the fever to break.”

"I haven’t felt this hot since I got stabbed,” Emily says, and she lets out a croaking laugh at her own joke.

There’s a flickering smile on JJ’s face, and Emily continues.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been dead before, remember? This fever ain’t shit.”

JJ replaces the cloth on Emily’s forehead and stays quiet.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Your voice is so pretty. I could listen to it all day.”

“You’re gonna have to listen to me for the next few days, Em,” is the murmured reply, but everything is too hot now.

"My stomach hurts. Jayje, Jayje, my stomach–”

There’s a burning sensation as the chair leg pieces her, and she screams.

“Jayje, Jayje— it hurts, it hurts, I’m sorry—”

And Emily can’t do anything except cry when JJ unbuttons her nightshirt and places a wet cloth on her stomach, chest heaving as she gasps for breath.

"Jayje, it burns, please, I can’t—”

 “You’ll be okay, Em, it’ll be okay,” JJ says, draping another cloth over her chest and taking off Emily’s nightshirt. “It’ll be okay, everything will be okay.”

But still her stomach and chest burn, and maybe in a different world Emily would be ashamed of herself, with how pathetic and weak she is, crying and sobbing and begging, in front of JJ, of all people.

But if it means JJ’s hands will trace over her bare chest and her hair will tickle Emily’s cheek, she will take it.

—

 It doesn’t get better.

The fifth day Emily spends throwing up, except she’s too weak to get out of bed and so JJ brings a trash can to Emily’s bedside so at her convenience, she can simply roll around and spit up whatever the fuck is still in her stomach.

And her head still fucking hurts. JJ touches her hand, and Emily recoils.

“Leave me alone,” she spits, and her mouth feels like sandpaper. “Leave me alone.”

“Em—”

“Leave me alone!” she shouts, except she doubles over and retches into the trash can, dry-heaving at this point because all of last night’s vegetables and rice are gone and Emily’s going to rip out her entire digestive tract.

And also because this is pathetic. Former CIA and Interpol spy, BAU profiler, lying half naked in a bed in Paris, supposedly dead, drenched in sweat and her own spit, recently branded and staked, succumbing to a fever. A fever. If Emily had it her way, she would rather hurl herself out the window than to have JJ see her like this.

JJ retreats to the corner of the bedroom and blinks back tears. Emily is too busy coughing into the trash can to notice.

—

“Why can’t you give me any pills?”

It comes as a croak, and wordlessly, JJ pours Emily another cup of water and passes it to her. She takes it shakily and sips, knowing that inevitably, it will come back up and into the bin. JJ is silent watching Emily, curled up in her armchair, and her eyes are unreadable.

“When Doyle stabbed you,” she says quietly, “he ripped part of your stomach.”

“He ripped more than my stomach,” Emily comments drily, and JJ’s eyes flash with something Emily cannot quite understand.

“They stitched it back up, but the doctor said something about how you shouldn’t take any Tylenol and similar medicine until it completely healed.”

“Why Tylenol?”

“Because— because—” JJ huffs. “I don’t know, I’m not a chemist. I guess it’s something to do with how it affects stomach lining.”

“I bet Reid would know,” Emily says, and there’s a pang in her heart as she imagines the young doctor. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Almost instinctively, JJ’s hand reaches out, but just before touching Emily’s, she freezes. Emily frowns, blinks.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

JJ brings her hand back.

“You wanted me to leave you alone.”

“I did?”

A pause, and Emily’s heart twists at the look on JJ’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” is JJ’s immediate response. “You were sick.”

This time, Emily reaches out for her, and JJ takes her hand immediately, fingers interlacing and squeezing tightly. JJ’s eyes glitter in the dim moonlight, and Emily wonders how much longer she has with her.

“When are you going home?” she asks her.

JJ is wearing Emily’s old Yale sweatshirt, she realizes. A muted, old navy color, the letters flaking off, and her hair looks disheveled, as though she hadn’t brushed it in days. There are bags under her bright eyes, not unlike the bags she had when she first had Henry and still insisted on coming in for work, and Emily feels a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry, Jayje,” she says.

“It’s not your fault,” JJ says quietly. “Let me get you some water.”

—

 Emily begins burning up again that night. All the water JJ coaxed into her earlier comes back up, and JJ still tirelessly drapes wet towels over her and removes the dry ones.

“I’m going to die,” Emily groans.

“You’ll be fine,” JJ repeats, squeezing a wet cloth down Emily’s face. The droplets stop the pain momentarily, but once they touch her skin, they evaporate immediately, temporary relief gone. “You’ll be fine.”

“I love you,” Emily says. “I never got to tell you that. My eyes hurt.”

“Close your eyes, Em.” JJ keeps trailing water down her face.

“I want to see you. Every time I see your eyes, I know it’s going to be okay. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Em. Close your eyes.”

“It’s really hot. Jayje, it hurts.”

JJ replaces the towel on her stomach, and she flinches at the sudden cold.

“Jayje, it hurts.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“I like it when you call me baby,” Emily says, eyes hot and vision blurry, and she can’t see the way JJ stiffens and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Go to sleep, Em. It’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

The last thing Emily registers is a singular wet drop on her face, just above her eye, and bleakly, she wonders why that one droplet was more hot than cold.

—

Emily’s hand is cold.

“Jayje?”

But it comes out as a grunt because her throat has closed back up and the pounding has returned, and she lets out another grunt as her hand flexes. Something takes hold of her and squeezes, and Emily grunts.

“Unh,” she says. I need you. I need to feel you. I love you.  

“I’m here, baby.”

The cloth on her head is replaced, but the burning persists. She’s stopped sweating now, thankfully, it’s just her head.

“Unh,” Emily says.

“I know, baby, I know.”

JJ used to smell like vanilla. Emily’s nose is clogged up right now, but she’ll bet ten thousand staked stomachs that she still smells like vanilla, with just a hint of cinnamon. She remembers asking JJ about it once; her shampoo was vanilla, she said, but she can’t imagine where the cinnamon came from.

“Unh,” Emily repeats, and she tugs on her hand.

“It’ll be okay, baby, I’m right here,” she hears, and Emily tugs her hand harder.

“Unh,” she emphasizes, and she brings their hands to the bed.

A pause. Emily’s vision is blurred and spotty, but she imagines the way JJ’s eyebrows scrunch together when thinking.

“You want me in bed with you?”

“Unh,” Emily confirms, and she squeezes her hand again.

A rustling of clothes, and JJ squeezes her hand gently before dropping, and Emily notes the soft footsteps as JJ pads around to the other side of the bed (JJ has the lightest footsteps, Emily’s tried making hers softer but she can’t manage it). The bed creaks as JJ settles in, and suddenly there’s an arm wrapping around Emily’s waist.

“Come here, baby,” JJ murmurs, and Emily curls into her warm body immediately, burying herself into the old sweatshirt and her soft curls. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

The pulsing in her head ebbs away as JJ’s nimble fingers thread through her tangled hair, and Emily drifts off to an uneasy sleep.

—

It’s a choked sob that pulls Emily halfway out of sleep, eyes flying open and trying to pinpoint the cause of the noise through her blurred vision. Another sob, and it’s coming from behind her.

“I’m so sorry. This isn’t how it was supposed to turn out.”

The voice breaks off at the end, and blearily, Emily wonders who it is.

“I love you so, so much, I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I love you.”

Everything is so heavy. The words float in and out of Emily’s head, and there’s a ringing in her ears. She makes out a shaky inhale before something; Emily has to strain to make out the words.

“I thought— I thought we could do it, I thought we could— but then Will came and Henry and— and I didn’t— Em, I’m so sorry.”

A choked sob, and Emily feels tears drip onto her neck.

“You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Emily tries to say something, say anything, but all that comes out is a grunt and a jerk of her body, and the arms around her tighten, kisses pressed into her hair over and over as circles are rubbed onto Emily’s skin.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Another kiss pressed into the crown of Emily’s head, except this one seems desperate and raw and she can feel someone linger there for a moment longer before burying their face in the nape of Emily’s neck.

“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. God, I’m so sorry.”

—

When Emily opens her eyes, she’s greeted with JJ perched on the armchair next to her bed and diligently studying a magazine, and she can smell coffee-

She can smell coffee.

“I can smell,” Emily says abruptly, and to her delight, she can     ��speak    .

JJ’s head jerks up, and her lips curl up in her signature soft smile, eyes twinkling. “You’re awake.”

“Yup,” Emily answers, and tentatively, she swings her legs out of bed, a grin forming on her face as her feet plant on the carpeted ground easily. “And better.”

“Oh, thank God,” JJ says, and when Emily glances up, she’s met with a looser smile, more tired. “I thought—”

With her recovered vision, Emily can now make out the dark circles under her eyes, and she flinches. Her body still aches, but that must be nothing compared to what hell she put JJ through, and JJ, of all people—

“I’m sorry,” Emily says. “Was I that bad?”

A pause, and JJ’s smile drops and her eyebrows furrow together. Emily stills, insides twisting because did I miss something?  

“You don’t remember?” JJ asks quietly.

“Uh, I— I don’t think so. It’s all very hot. And blurry.”

Emily is a profiler, she is a seasoned profiler who has worked in the elite department of the BAU for several years, but she can only make out the way JJ’s eyes widen slightly and the way her mouth drops for a moment before they’re instantly masked, covered by a smile that seems almost relieved.

“Jayje?”

“Don’t worry about it,” JJ says, reaching out to take Emily’s hand. “Nothing happened worth remembering.”

[anotheronechicagobog]

The Heroic Heralds of the Hermann Horde

Part 1

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: swearing, tension, parental issues

 A/N: You should read my fic ‘Tylenol and Tequila’ part three for some relationships to make sense but it can be read without having done so, the story focuses mainly on the Hermann family (or Hermann Horde as I have dubbed them) but there’s some stellaride and upstead in here as well.

Being one out of five kids was exhausting. There were pros and cons that they all had to deal with. Lee Henry, Luke, and Annabelle got new clothes, Lee Henry because he was the oldest, Luke because hand me downs were too worn when they got to him, and Annabelle because she was the only girl. Kenny, Luke, Max, and Annabelle got away with pretty much everything because they didn’t have to set an example (and the only times they did get in trouble usually had more to with a bad call their dad had than anything else). Kenny was unintentionally favoured by their dad more because he has made it very clear he wants to be a firefighter like his dad. Max was favoured by their mom because of his traumatic birth. Kenny, Luke, and Max were closer because Lee Henry was the firstborn and not only had Cindy and Christopher decided to wait a few years before having more kids but also because he had to be the responsible older brother/third parent most of the time, his parents hadn’t intended for that to happen and they felt guilty about it sometimes, but they needed his help and made sure he got at least an hour of free time (this didn’t include homework or chores) a day. Annabelle felt left out frequently because she was the only girl and while she didn’t fit the girly girl mould, she just didn’t share a lot of interests or societal problems with her brothers. So the Hermann’s were their own unique brand of love and chaos, and they were alright with that. 

Lee Henry had gotten a part-time job for Friday nights and weekends as a lifeguard. People liked to joke that lifesaving ran in the family, but that wasn’t the case. Lee didn’t want to ever rush into a burning building, he never wanted to let worry and fear linger over his family’s heads day after day. Wondering if every unexpected knock on the door or phone call was a death notice or call to the hospital. He didn’t resent his dad for his career, but it had affected a lot of his life choices. The reason he became a lifeguard was because when he was 10, almost 11, his dad fell through the floor of a burning building.

He remembers the phone ringing, wondering if it was Susan from his granna’s quilting club, or Kraken (Karen) from the PTA. His mom answered with a cheerful hello but when she made no other noise and the room suddenly felt thick, he looked up, and he saw his mom’s face. She had gotten so pale he could see her veins, her eyes were wet and had sunken in, her mouth moving like she was screaming so loud it would shatter windows but nothing was coming out, and then she collapsed. Her knees just gave out underneath her. Lee jumped up to try and keep his mom from falling on the floor. He was too weak to catch her so they landed together on the hardwood together with a thump. She still couldn’t say anything, she started shaking, so Lee grabbed the phone. “-Ms. Hermann? Are you still there? Did you hear me? Your husband fell through the floor of a burning building, he’s on transport to the hospital-”

“In ambulance sixty-one?”

“... I’m sorry who am I speaking to?”

“Lee Henry Hermann, son of Christopher and Cindy Hermann. Is my dad being taken to the hospital in ambulance sixty-one?”

“Yes, but I should really-”

“Which hospital?”

“Lakeshore medical centre, I should really speak to-”

“We’re on our way.” He hung up, remembering the words his dad has said to him a thousand times, ‘if you’re in a dangerous situation do everything you can to stay calm, you can make things worse if you panic’. “Hello, yellow taxi? I need a cab to take five people, one adult and four kids, to Lakeshore medical centre. My Dad got hurt and mom can’t speak.” It was a flurry of running and car seats and firefighter turn out gear that wasn’t his dad’s. That wasn’t cool anymore. That he couldn’t stand to look at or smell. So when no one was looking he got up and, calmly, walked to a closet. He walked inside, closed the door, and let it all out. He cried, muffled his screams with his forearms. He ruthlessly scratched his arms, and hit himself. In the head, chest, thighs, feet. He knew right then, from the look on his mother’s face, from the grimness behind uncle Randy’s eyes, from the tearing feeling in his chest, he could never do it. He could never be a firefighter.

When he returned to the group, his long-sleeved shirt was rolled down and he’d stopped at the bathroom before heading to the cafeteria to make sure he looked okay. He was carrying two plastic bags that were filled to the brim with sandwiches and water bottles. He was spotted by uncle Randy first. “Lee Henry! There you are, what’ve you got there?”

“Some food and water, I figured we’d all need something to eat and drink, we might be here a while after all.”

“Yeah... Hey, I heard that you helped get everyone here, and you’ve been really calm and level-headed throughout this whole thing. You’ve done really well, why don’t you sit down and we’ll keep you company til we hear some news about your dad? Severide can pass around the grub, okay?” Severide made his way over to the oldest Hermann child and gave him a proud smile. “I for one, am not even remotely surprised that you’re so calm. Your old man is a firefighter, remaining calm in stressful situations and helping others is in your blood. Should we be expecting another Hermann at 51?” Lee felt his heart sink into his gut, but thankfully Boden called for all the members of 51 to have a talk in one section of the ER before Lee could answer.

Lee took one last walk around the pool, to make sure he hadn’t missed any puddles or items when cleaning the deck while the last of the stragglers got out of the pool and the stands when he heard a loud crack. He whipped his head around and found a teen about his age lying on the floor at the bottom of the stands. He rushed over and methodically went over his injuries, calling out orders to the other lifeguards and people around him. He and Kylie got the guy on their backboard and his neck stabilized. The paramedics arrived quickly. “Lee Henry?”

“Hey Brett, so we have a teenage male, unsure of age or name, with a head laceration, possible neck trauma, and loss of consciousness. He fell off the stands and hasn’t so much as opened his eyes, one of the other lifeguards went through the change rooms to see if there was anyone waiting for him but they couldn’t find anyone. I noticed him come in a couple of hours ago, but he didn’t socialize with or appear to have come with anyone. He just came in and sat down at the top.”

“Alright, well you did a good job, we’ve got it from here.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning he was met by his dad, smiling from ear to ear. ”There's my boy.” Christopher began patting Lee Henry on the back. ”Brett said you were amazing, guess you'll be joining me at 51 pretty soon, huh? And tonight we are going to celebrate, the entire firehouse is coming over and we're gonna do a pot luck.”

Lee Henry couldn't get a word in edgewise, just sighed as his dad walked away, over the moon. Lee Henry finished getting ready under the concerned eyes of his mother, who had witnessed the tension in his shoulders and fine line his lips went into. ”Are you okay, honey?”

”Yeah, I'm great. I'll see you after work.” He gave his mom a kiss on the cheek, grabbed his duffle and headed for the station.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lee felt his stomach sink when he recognized the extra cars cluttering the street in from of his house. He rolled his shoulders back at the sound of heavy laughter coming from inside, knowing it was better just to face it head on. He was met with the smell of various kinds of foods, and was met with the sound of rowdy firefighters. ”Hey Herm, the guest of honour had finally arrived. Lee Henry, come over here!”

”Hey guys.” Lee spent the next two hours, after working a 10 hour shift of a labour intensive job, bearing everyone’s comments about the ’next generation of Hermann firefighters’, and constantly being pulled away from the food table! Donna made pallea and his mom made brownies! He just wanted to eat!

He was tired, hungry, and emotionally worn out when uncle Kelly pulled him aside. ”Hey, Lee, I didn't want to say this to your dad before you, but I made a couple calls, and was able to get you a spot at the academy for next fall if you want it. It'll be great-”

”I don't want to be a firefighter.”

”What?”

”I haven't since I was ten.”

”Lee, you don't have to-”

”I... It's just a personal choice.”

”But your dad... He thinks you want to be a firefighter.”

”He never lets me get a word in, just rambles until he has to leave for shift or Molly's.”

”What do you want to be then?”

”A doctor.”

”Ha, you’re a healer not a smokeater, huh?”

”Don’t laugh, you'll need someone to fix up your self-destructive ass when you fall through a floor in a burning house.” Lee just couldn't take it anymore, his emotions had boiled over, so he’d snapped. And now he needed to leave so that he didn't have to watch his uncle put all the dots together right in front of him.

----------------------

He was hungry and in need of comfort. Both from food and people. So when Kylie jogged out of his house after him, he was grateful. They caught the el downtown and went to Bartolli’s, a favourite restaurant of the Hermann’s. ”You were pretty loud, when you were talking to Kelly, just so you know.”

He sighed. ”I figured. I texted my mom before we got to the station, told her where we were going, mostly to avoid her worrying, but I fully expect someone to show up.”

”It does seem like something anyone at 51 would do, they are very involved in each other's lives.”

”Hey, you've been dealing with this for a few months, I've been dealing with it my whole life.” Their conversation flowed freely, mixed with milkshakes and deep-dish pizza. 

”Do you know what you want to do when you get out of high school?”

”Definitely something that helps people, but I don't think I want to be a firefighter either. Kelly and Stella worry about me just going to school, I can't imagine how they'd feel if I was running into burning buildings! They'd probably only be okay with it if I was at 51 with them, and while I love them, I don't love them that much. I think something in law.”

”The only issue for us is how to pay for all that.”      

“We could join the military, but that does kinda defeat the purpose of not being firefighters...”

“Lee Henry? Kylie?”

“Detective Upton and Halstead, hi.”

“What are you two doing here? I thought that 51 was celebrating a big save you made.”

“Yeah, but it just ended up being a firefighter thing, you know how it goes, especially because apparently, you guys do the same thing.”

“Yeah, we do...”

“Well,” Halstead gave a smirk and a nod, “you two enjoy your pizza.”

“Thanks,” Kylie piped up, having not spoken much with the detectives, “and you two have fun on your date.” Lee and Kylie turned to go back to their meal, but noticed the frozen body language and panicked expressions of the two adults. They looked at each other, concerned, before Lee decided to bite the bullet. “Uh, guys? Are you okay? Should we call the other Halstead?”

“We’re not dating.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“... Yesssssss.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“Have a nice night kids.” Upstead (what they were to be referred to as according to his mom) turned and bolted out of the restaurant, blushes and pizza in tow. “I really hope that they sort out their feelings, it’s getting a little exhausting and I don’t even spend that much time around them!”

“Amen to that.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Lee returned home it was late, and only the porch and living room lights were on. He entered the quiet house alone, having dropped Kylie off at her apartment before returning home himself. He locked the door, turned off the porch light, and went straight to the living room knowing that it was better to face his dead head-on than beat around the bush. “Dad.”

“Lee Henry.”

“We need to talk.”

“Apparently we do.”

“I don’t want to be a firefighter.”

“Well, I heard that pretty loud and clear. It was too loud to miss. You know I just don’t understand-”

“October 10th, 2012.”

“Excuse me?”

“You and uncle Matt fell through the floor of a burning house. Your ADSU went off cause the fall knocked you unconscious. I’ve heard Gabby say that that was one of the scariest days of her life. And I remembered you comforted her when she visited you in the hospital. But you didn’t comfort me-”

“Lee-”

“No. Let me speak for once. I was ten years old. And I had to call the cab company, and get everyone in the car, and keep everyone together, and make sure everyone was eating, and check-in with the nurses about your condition, and get school stuff organized for Luke, Max, and Annabelle, and make all the meals for a week, and get Granna and Grandad on an earlier flight back to Chicago, and manage your medication because mom was too stressed to. Your voice was ringing through my head the entire time, ‘if you’re in a dangerous situation do everything you can to stay calm, you can make things worse if you panic’. All that I was told that miserable week was that I was destined to be a firefighter like you. But I was just listening to you, and I realized that being a firefighter was the absolute last thing I want to be when I get older. I had always known in the back of my mind that your job was dangerous, but it didn’t hit me until that day, not even when uncle Andy died. I just... I had my blinders ripped off, and I can’t ignore the terror I feel every time you leave for work. And I see mom and the others feel it too now that there have been more close calls, and I can’t do it. I want you to know that I don’t resent you for it in any way, but I can’t do that to my friends and family. I can’t let the people in my life feel like they’re saying goodbye to me every time I go to work. And I’ve tried to tell you, but I can never get a word in.”

“I tend to do that apparently. Look, I’ll admit there’s a part of me that’s always wanted you kids to follow in my footsteps, but that is a very small part of me. I am actually really happy that you don’t want to be a firefighter because I know that I don’t have the strength to worry about you or any of the others day after day. It takes a special breed of people to do that, and I don’t come from it. If you want to be a doc, that’s great. I know that you’re more than capable and I’m really proud of you for being able to recognize that. I’m also really sorry. That you had to be so brave so young. Need you to know that I love you, that I am so proud of you, and that I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you as much as I should have been.” Lee had never, ever, seen his dad cry. Christopher Hermann was always strong and firm. But here he was crying in front of his eldest son, exposing all of his vulnerable emotions to him. Cindy found them forty minutes later full-on bawling and clinging to each other as though their lives depended on it. Finally making peace with each other.

[watsonundercover]

Definition of Soulmates

Summary; after having the worst day of Ambrose’ life a surprise twist walks in and catches her heart in ways she’s never expected, for Dimitri, finding the right girl has always been a challenge because he knows he’s heard her before in the back of his mind,

Author’s Note; I’ve based the character Dimitri off of Tom Holland, so I guess this is a bit of a fanfic in that sense. I love the name Ambrose but you can slip your own name and description in if you want!

 Part One

The Market I work in has to be 1500 feet at most, its small but packs a punch given we have two coolers’ for supplies a back area for prep and a small office space taking up a third of the store. The last two thirds are where customers roam amongst the veggies and a small grocery aisle that I know like the back of my hand. Daily I look over it, making sure the shelves are as full as possible since we only order when we fully run out of something.

“What do you think Ambross?” My manager asks he surveys the cereals. “Think we should go for five and take the deal they’re offering?” He constantly gets my name wrong despite me making him sound it out. I also go by Brosie to most.

“I think we could. Tomorrow the rest will come off since it’s the beginning of the week.” I say and kick a milk carton as a make shift step stool in front of some of the honeys. I pull down a box from the top of the shelf to fill up some wildflower honey.

“Good point, which flavours go fastest?” he asks. Lee has noticed that I observe everything and in my two years here figured out the patterns of sales.

“I would say that Chocolate rice stuff, the peanut butter balls and….” My head snaps around as my ears pick up a crash at the end of the aisle. A wail is then coming out a small child, Mum is picking them up and looking at Lee and I with apologetic eyes. Then I see and smell it. The little one dropped a jar of pickled beets. Leaving my honey on the step stool I go and grab a bag from the front cash to get the debris into. Lee without a word has gone to the back to get the mop.

“I’m so sorry.” Mom says as I get on my knees to get up the beats and glass.

“It’s alright.” I say with a smile. “Little ones are usually way too curious with what’s on the bottom shelves, I keep telling my boss we should have unbreakable things there.” I stand with most of the glass in the bag, Lee appears with the mop to get up the juice, making it easier for me to see the last of the broken glass. I step to the side where the Mom is. The little boy now at eye level with me. “You wanted to know what those were huh?” I ask with a lighter tone to him. He nods and curls into her. I’m guessing he’s not even three.

“Brosie there’s some glass there.” Lee says and I bend to snatch it up. “Oh shoot….”

“Ah!” I gasp and yank my hand back as a piece of glass that Lee nor I didn’t see jabs into my hand.  It’s dug in deep enough a steady flow of blood to come out.

“Back now.” Lee orders and I pass him the bag to go into the back to get a wad of paper towel to get the bleeding to stop. There my co worker and friend Ana comes in for the start of her shift. She takes in the sight of me and yanks out on of her head phones.

“You okay?” She asks.

“Cut my hand.” I say. “Broken jar. Was cleaning it but…” She cuts me off by coming and taking my hand to look over it.  She grabs another wad of paper towel to wet and dab at my hand. She then grabs the first aid kit from the end of the big back shelf.

“It’s not too deep, lets just clean it….”

“Holy shit.” I breathe and nearly yank back my hand as she presses an antiseptic cloth to it.

“Wuss.” She hisses.

“How about I pour alcohol on your paper cuts? Or lemon juice?” I bite back.  That makes her laugh. She’s also one of my few friends that I am constantly bantering with. She’s an artist like me and insists on having handmade sketchbooks where the pages aren’t even and cuts her fingers on them constantly. Right now I spy band aids on two of her fingers.

“This needs more than a band aid.” She states and grabs some butterfly strips to pull my skin together with.  I wince as Lee comes back.

“Are you okay?” He asks and put the mop to the side to come and see. “Oh shoot, does it hurt?” He sees Ana’s work before she wraps gauze around my hand as an extra precaution.

“A little.” I admit. “I have some Tylenol in my bag if it does start to hurt.”

“Alright. Um maybe take a breather, then finish what you had started in the aisle, you pulled down something I think.”

“Honey.” I say. “We’re almost out of it so I brought it down to top up the shelf.” That prompts Ana to go and drop her bag in the small back aisle next to the bathroom that also leads to the back door. Ana appears again with my water bottle to throw at me. Fumbling I manage to catch it, banging it on my cut a little I try to not flinch but I glug back about half of it to get some fluids in me after losing some blood.  I take a few deep breaths as Lee gets the mop back away in the bathroom.

I drink more water. Feeling back to normal I go back to the aisle and finish up the honey I pulled out. I then see that another brand needs to be stocked up, I go out to find the back stock under the table with apples and come back. As I slide it on I get my skinny arms back there to even everything out and pull some forward.

Crabcakes! I pull my hand out as a sharp sting shoots up my arm and tears well in my eyes. I see it shaking at a large lumps forms where a wasp has stung me.  I look at the back of the shelf and see a small nest formed by some honeycomb at the back. The little turkeys seem to have taken it hostage because of a poor packaging design.  I shake out my hand but the pain is not going away. I beeline to the back to some Tylenol. Lee sees the few tears that escape.

“Is your hand hurting?” He asks. I show off the impressive lump that is swelling fast. His eyes grow huge. “What happened?!” he jumps up and off the stool to inspect it.

“Freaking wasp.” I gasp trying to not sob. “There’s a new nest by the honeycombs.”

“Great.” Lee huffs and has me sit. “I’ll see if Ana has any antihistamines, if not I’ll go get you some.” Lee disappears around the corner to find her. Only a minute later I see her dash into the cooler them comes back out holding a bag of ice she must have taken off of some of the veggies.

“You can’t seem to win today.” She says and passes me the make shift ice pack to press onto my hand.

“Yeah not really.” I breathe and try to take a deep breath to stay calm.

“How long have you been working now” She asks.

“About two hours and a bit.” I say. Lee shows back up holding the antihistamines for me. I take one, Ana grabs my water bottle so I can get it down.

“Maybe she could have a break just to recover Lee?” Ana suggests and looks at him.

“Good idea.” He says. With that I grab my lunch bag and step out into the back porch to sit and watch the woods. I eat some yogurt and my sandwich, I sip at water and decide that it’s too chilly for it. A hot chocolate from the coffee shop would be nice. I have a half hour break so I get up retrieve my wallet then walk along the back gravel to come out at the end of this bit of the mini mall. Out on the side walk I avoid other people’s eyes so no one can tell I’ve been crying. Past the main grocery store that is our rival I continue on to the third strip of building where a coffee shop is on the end. Inside I order my hot chocolate, pay and wait over at the side.

“Ambrose?” I hear and glance around for who said it. Being at the market means a lot of people recognize me and a lot of my family is in the area too. But this voice is one I recognize but can’t place. My heart freezes when I see its source.

Ben.

A young man with enough muscle to make any girl swoon and parted brown hair. My stomach clenches as his greenish eyes meet mine.

“Medium hot chocolate to go.” The barista calls out and I grab it and move to get out.

“Brosie.” I hear Ben call as he comes after me. “Brosie come on, don’t act like this.” He grabs my wounded hand as he catches up to me and I nearly screech. I yank back and cradle it against myself and fight some tears. “If anyone really should be like this it should be me.” Ben huffs. “You are the one who broke off the friendship.” I grind my teeth and look down at my hand. Crap, he’s torn the cut open enough to bleed. He then sees the crimson on the white gauze. “Oh shit.” He breathes and tries to take it to see.

“Leave me alone Ben.” I say loud enough for heads to turn.

“You’re bleeding let me help, you know I’m training to be….”

“A paramedic, yes I know. I knew everything about you while you barely knew me Ben. Plus why do you care now? You treated me like crap the last few months of our friendship.” I bite and turn to stalk away. Within a second I’m suddenly staring at Ben’s tiny but round ass. He’s grabbed me in fireman’s hold, something he’s done before. “Let me go!” I shout and try to struggle but his arms squeeze my middle tightly to keep me in control. With the shock of him picking me up I’ve dropped my hot chocolate. “Ben come on! Let me go!”

He sets me down in the back of his truck and grabs a medical kit he always keeps on hand. I however dive to the side as he tries to grab at my hand again.

“Cut it out!” I bark and dodge to the back of the wagon.

“Ambrose I’m trying to help you.” He argues. “Something you say I never did.”

“Ben if you want to help me let me go and leave me alone.” I bite back and meet his eye for him to read words I uttered to him over six months ago, I fucking hate you, you treat me like shit. I then utter; “You’re only making a scene with me now because you want attention, you want to be the hero for my hand, you want me to dote on you for it. Guess what, that’s never going to happen again.” That makes him launch at me. My psychology evaluation of him has always been something I’ve kept to myself. Now it’s just pissed him off.

“Hey!” Someone shouts and he’s being pulled off of me. “What the hell?!” Ben is being thrown out of the back and I see two fit looking guys. One with blonde hair and blue eyes is helping me up, the other has a hood up covering his face. “You alright sweetie?” The blonde asks with an accent that is music to my ears.

“Get her out Henry.” Someone is saying as Ben stands to see two other people there, a larger young man and a beautiful girl. However I have my theories about beauty, that if you say beauty as a blanket term you get self-conscious, if you identify what kind of beauty it is, you can feel a little better. For her, with dark frizzy hair and sharp dark eyes that seem to stare into souls far too easily, it’s an exotic kind of beauty. Something you don’t see very often. The one in the hoodie is then helping me down to the blonde who’s jumped out. As his hands guide me down I feel something seize in my chest. Something that I can only call parapsychological, the sense of something only I can feel through my soul.

“Are you alright?’ The blonde is asking. “Did he touch you…?” I take off, the question prompting too many wrong things that happened during Ben and I’s friendship. I get back to work with tears burning in my eyes. I just go to the back porch to bury my face in my hands. Ana appears at my side.

“I heard someone saying they saw you and Ben arguing…” She says and wraps her arms around me tightly. The only good thing about the end of that friendship is that I found out who my real friends are. Including Ana. She gets me to sit down on the top step then holds out something that comforts us both, the salted milk chocolate bar that we sell.

“Thanks.” I whisper hoarsely and break off a chunk. I look at my fit watch to see that my break is almost up.  I let the chocolate melt on my tongue and have the flavours swirl around my mouth to savour it. Being mindful of how I’ve covered more receptors there to send the happy message of dopamine to be released in my brain. Chocolate is an easily addictive crack.  She still holds it out me. I break off another piece.

“Do you want to go home?” She asks. I feel calm again, I shake my head. If I keep my water bottle close or make a cup of tea I should be okay. “Okay, let’s get you patched up again, what happened now?” She takes my hand to see how bloody the gauze is.

“Ben being a dramatic ass.” I say. That gets her up to get the first aid kit and yes, more antiseptic to clean it up. I’d take Ana helping me out over Ben any day medical wise.

“What an ass.” She mutters redoing the gauze wrap. “Can’t even get out of his own head to notice you’re hurt.”

“Thanks Ana.” I murmur and begin plotting on making her a batch of cookies for helping. If I get a mix after work I can do it up tonight, I’d have to get some extra chocolate chips since I put the last of some in brownies the other week.

“Let’s get you back inside or Lee will have my head.” She says. I dawn my apron and carefully tie it around my waist. I take deep breaths and remind myself that if I remain calm, everything else will. What you put out has a way of coming back at you. The incident with Ben now is only a reflection of how I had to be when I told him we were no longer friends. Mean and ruthless. Unlike my normal self that usually understands everything and is kind. You had to be kind for yourself too I remind myself. Lee takes one look at me and gives me a few things to stock. I’m done in a few minutes.

“Err, do you want to do some chips?” He asks, however I see what he’s really asking if I feel okay enough to be climbing up and onto the edge of the veggie rack to get the boxes stored up there. I nod, feeling right down into my core, something that I know is strong and what I’ll use to get up there. Lee leaves it at that. First I check out what we need, we’re scarce with a bunch. I get a milk crate as my middle ground and wait patiently for people to be out of the way before climbing up.

“Careful monkey.” My co-worker World says deeply as he watches me. He’s East Indian and after a few sassy remarks from me when I finally warmed up to him, claimed I must have been a sister from another life.

“I always am.” I say and swing down gracefully with a box. World’s eyes watch my movements as I go back up for another then check out what else I need, a few more flavours then one of the another brand. I go up as world goes to refill his cart with more apples to stock, making that short aisle now clear. I glance around, no one is here, I could make a stack to make it easier. I get a box and sink down in a squat still balanced on the edge to only stretch back up and check around again. I’m startled with the appearance with the sight of the beautiful girl from the parking lot staring at me.  I try to think nothing of it and turn back to get a box and find it stuck behind a bar in the top of the rack. I know not to do this but I try it anyway, I just yank.

I yank too hard.  The sudden force sends my balance off and I scramble to grab hold of the top of the rack but I don’t act fast enough and start falling back.

“Arms!” I hear someone shout and feel my fall cut off shorter than I expected it. I’ve been caught by someone. Letting out a shaky breath I look up into auburn eyes that are wide as they stare back at me. I then recognize the hoodie he’s wearing. My arms tingle as he so easily holds me.

“Ambrose!” Ana calls as she comes over, World in tow. He takes that as a sign to get me down on my feet. He doesn’t seem to mind as I lean on his shoulder to steady myself.  Ana is then grabbing me, looking over my shaken state. “Are you okay?” As she asks it the shock hits and I find that I can’t speak.

“Let’s get you in the back.” Ana says and leads me away from him. I can’t help but glance at him, see his handsome face, sharp square jawline and those eyes that are not coming off me. Lee is all over me, trying to get me out of the haze, snapping, waving at me, and trying to get me to speak. World breaks it, get grabs his warm coffee mug and sets it in my hand. Temperature difference. An ice bucket would have worked too.

“Bross you okay?” Lee asks.

“She doesn’t need to answer.” Ana declares. “She’s had a shit day and is going home.” She grabs her car keys. She then passes me my backpack. I rub at my face, the day has been insane, and I’ve been pushing too much to get through it. For some reason the universe wants me to be down, or not here.

“I’ll go home but I can walk Ana.” I squeak. She raises an eyebrow at me.

“Not with the state you’re in, plus if Ben happens to cross your path again I don’t want him to get the better of you.” She’s being protective and kind, something Ben never was.

“Go, it shouldn’t take Ana too long right?” Lee asks.

“Ten minutes at most.” I say. With that Ana gets me up to guide me out. We pass by the group that got Ben away from me, the guy in the hoodie doesn’t take his eyes off me, the girl gives me a curious look, the other boys start nudging the hoodie. That’s when he looks away and down. Ana pulls me away and out of sight me to form one thought, somehow, magically, my soul knows his.