good/right/real

Chapter 4: I Get By

Her second shift at 51 goes even better than the first. She's adjusting and getting to know people. She's grateful that everyone has been so welcoming. The situation is tricky and she does feel as though she's sometimes walking on eggshells. Casey was absolutely right yesterday, this house has been through a lot. She doesn't want to add to that in any way.

She finds it unbelievable that her partner has been so accepting of her. A little coldness would have been natural and entirely expected after such a big loss, but she never felt any of that from Leslie. Don't get her wrong, there are moments when Shay looks at her and Sylvie can tell she's thinking of Dawson. But the words "Dawson did it this way" never once left Leslie's lips. Sylvie appreciates that more than Shay probably knows.

She has big shoes to fill. She's well aware of that. No reminders necessary.

And she still hasn't puzzled out what to do with Matt—Casey. Pretending they never slept together has been easier than she thought. He's a completely different person at work, most of the time. She rarely sees the Matt she met that night at Molly's. In a way, she's grateful for that but it also makes her sad.

He's so serious and focused. She knows it's probably a side effect of his grief but she wishes he'd relax — just a little.

They'll never be lovers, she knows, but she'd like to be his friend. If it's at all possible to go from one and done fuck buddies to friends, that is.

They get a call and it's an insane call. One they never would have gotten in Fowlerton. A car turned over on a fire hydrant with a woman trapped underwater in the passenger seat. Sylvie felt a lot like a novice last shift. Chicago is far more hectic than anything she'd seen back home. It's natural to have a learning curve. But she'd still like to feel a bit more comfortable in her own skin. Learning to intubate a burn victim last shift was interesting, but standing by and watching while her partner did the work was frustrating. She's eager to make up for it.

So, when the victim is brought to them and there's too much damage to her mouth to intubate, Sylvie knows this is her moment. Shay is struggling to find the kit they need but Sylvie sees something that'll work instead. Small town EMTs don't have a lot of resources. You work with what you've got. It means she's accustomed to a lot of improvisation.

She uses some spare tubing and a pair of scissors to safely puncture the victim's throat and assist with breathing. She takes it as a serious compliment when Shay's eyebrows lift and she says, "Huh, never seen that one before."

She doesn't ask her where she learned it. She just smirks and tosses her the keys.

"You drive, farmgirl. Fastest way through the loop is Lower Wacker."

She knows what being handed the keys means. She's passed her first test — earned her first bit of respect. Her skin feels like it fits a little easier all of a sudden. That impressed look of pride in Shay's eyes is intoxicating. She wants to impress her more often. Is having a partner who makes you want to be a better paramedic common? She feels like most EMTs she's spoken with spend the day simply getting through. Realizing she won't have to do that makes her appreciate 51 even more.

They get back to the station and Shay fist bumps her once she parks the Ambo.

"Good work, partner," she says with a wide smile. "I owe you a beer at Molly's tonight."

"Really?" She asks eagerly. That's the first time she's been invited out for a drink since moving to Chicago.

"Yeah, you should come and hang out. Most of 51 will be there. It'll be fun," Leslie assures her. "Your first beer's on me as a congratulations."

"Okay," Sylvie agrees with an enthusiastic nod. "I'll be there."

They clean up and change since that last call bumped into the end of their shift. As she's leaving, she spots Matt. His bag is slung over his shoulder and his keys are in his hand but every step he takes away from the firehouse increases the dread in his eyes.