Chapter Text
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Violet stared at the two pink lines and willed herself not to panic. She counted backwards in her head and then googled how soon she could test positive.
She'd been feeling like shit lately. Achy all over. Tired enough that she fell asleep during drinks at Molly's last night. COVID had been running rampant in the firehouse and she'd taken a rapid test, convinced she'd gotten sick from Ritter, who'd been out for two shifts already.
This should be a happy accident. A month ago it would have been. She imagined an alternate reality where she sat anxiously awaiting the news with Evan, instead of all alone.
But a month ago, she and Evan were still speaking. More importantly, a month ago, she hadn't drunkenly slept with Gallo.
She was nowhere near ready to be a mother - hell, she wasn't even sure she ever wanted to be. But with Evan, she would have felt like part of a team, like they'd take this on together. Instead she was by herself on the floor of her bathroom, on the verge of a breakdown. She really didn't want to do this alone.
Wiping away the tears that were running down her face, she sniffled and silenced the timer on her cell phone. She really didn't want to be by herself but it wasn't like she could call Evan. Could she? She shook her head to herself. No, she couldn't call him. Not until she figured out her shit.
Violet aimlessly thumbed through her text messages, not really reading them, but thinking about who she could trust to talk about this.
There was also absolutely no way she was calling Blake. Stella and Kelly's wedding night was a shitshow that needed to be firmly left in the past. She wished so badly that she could go back in time and just call Evan to avoid the miscommunication that led to her drunkenly sleeping with Gallo.
Stella was out too. She and Severide were busy being newlyweds, and dealing with the trauma of fighting off those drug Lords during their honeymoon.
Hermann had great advice and would certainly have advice on kids, but Violet wasn't sure she was ready for that yet.
Ritter was still sick, and she didn't want to put him in the middle of her drama with Gallo yet again.
Brett. She could call Brett. Sylvie always knew what to do during their worst cases on shift, and she'd know what to do here. Pressing dial, she prayed that her friend wasn't at spin or busy with something else on their day off.
"Hello?" Sylvie answered. In lieu of responding, Violet sniffed back her tears again. Maybe she shouldn't talk about this. If she didn't talk about it, it wouldn't be real. "Violet, are you okay? Where are you?" Panic seeped into her voice the longer Violet took to respond.
"I'm at home. I'm safe. But I'm not okay." Violet managed to say, her voice sounding watery even to her own ears.
"Oh, Hun. Okay, give me fifteen minutes and I'll be over there. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out." Violet choked back a sob and nodded.
Nine and a half minutes later she let Brett into her front door and the older woman wrapped her in a big hug and eased her down onto the couch. Absentmindedly, she noted that Sylvie was like the big sister she never had.
"Okay, tell me what happened."
"I've fucked literally everything up."