Hey everyone!

I'm sure you were all as affected by Shay's death as I was. I can't believe she's gone. I cried all day and then it hurt to even think about it. I miss her so much, I miss her interactions with everyone. I miss her storylines, there was still so much we had to learn about her.

So this is just something I wrote over the span of a few weeks, centering around Dawson's struggle but including everyone else too.

I'm unsure if I'll write more but if I do it probably won't be for a while yet.

I hope you enjoy!

oxoxo

She wants to cry.

She wants to cry even though she's cried all afternoon with the Chaplain. Guilt swallowed her whole. Loss pained her heart. She ached. She hurt.

She missed Shay.

A large part of her heart was missing. A large part of her life. A gaping hole left in its wake and Gabby didn't think it could ever be filled again.

She wants to cry and scream and hit something. She wants to breakdown and curl up into a ball and stay there. Grieving. Wishing for time to reverse and for her to do things differently. Wishing that Shay was still here. Wishing that everything was right again.

But it wasn't.

And she still wants to cry.

But she can't. She has to go home, to Matt and Kelly, and she can't show that all she's been doing all afternoon is breaking down. She has to be okay, for their sakes. She doesn't want Matt to worry more than he is already because he's grieving too. And Kelly, well, she doesn't know where to start. Kelly's a mess. She is too.

She doesn't want them to know what happened. She doesn't want anyone to know that the beam should have killed her and not Shay, but yet she's sure that the Chaplain will inform Chief of the real truth. After all, she has been lying to everyone. But what difference would it make? she thinks. She can't change it, she wishes she could, but she can't. Shay's gone. She's here. And it makes no sense at all.

She pulls up at the apartment. Their new apartment that Shay would have loved. Gabby can picture them together on the new grey sofa, sipping on beer or something stronger, laughing as Shay told some silly story or crying over the latest sappy romance movie. She can picture Shay everywhere in their apartment, surrounded by the new furniture and new walls and new everything. New things she'll never see. New movies they'll never witness together. New jokes. New stories.

There'll never be a 'new' anything again.

She's crying again. She's still locked in her car. She's cries alone a lot. The salty taste of tears on her lips now more familiar than a smile. She hasn't smiled in a while. She wonders if she will again.

She goes inside. She's alone. Maybe Matt and Kelly are at their, his, place, gathering a few more of his things so Kelly doesn't have to go back there until he's ready. She doesn't know if he'll ever be.

She's glad she is alone. More time to compose herself. More time to bury her sadness. More time to be strong.

But she does none of those things. She loses it.

Before she knows what she's doing she's searching frantically through the house, desperate to find what she has her mind set on. She finds it in Matt's sock drawer. He's hidden it from plain sight so it doesn't hurt her to look at, but he kept it close, for when she can bare to look at it again.

She can't bare it yet. But she looks anyway.

She takes the photo album downstairs and grabs a full wine bottle, disregarding a glass. She tucks her legs underneath her on the couch and pops open the bottle, taking a large chug which gives her the courage to open the album.

She's greeted with the words – To my sexiest best friend on the day of her birth… Happy birthday Gabs! You're gonna have a great night, I assure you! This photo album represents our love for each other and for some damn fine alcohol, and what happens when we mix the two! I've left space to add more photos, because there will be plenty more! I love you. From your best friend, Leslie Shay. P.S have you switched teams yet?

More tears. More wine. But it doesn't drown out Shay's words. Gabby can hear Shay's voice in her head, laughing as she read the words aloud. Shay's voice. She'll never hear it again. Not it person anyway, and her memory does Shay no justice.

The thick album is only half full; the other half Shay had left to be filled with more of their memories. Gabby hates that they'll never get to fill it. That it'll always be half filled. Maybe she'll always be half full, too.

The first page has a photo of the night after the shift Shay joined 51. They'd gone out to celebrate and in the process, had learned just how much of a party animal Shay was. They loved it. They loved her. She was a ray of sunshine. She was their ray of sunshine. The photo is of Gabby with her arm thrown over Shay's shoulder, whilst Shay kisses Gabby's cheek. They both looked pretty drunk. They both looked happy. It was the start of their beautiful friendship. Shay wrote underneath – The first of many messy nights. We'd clicked from the outset. I'm glad I met you.

The next photo is of them trying to teach Otis and Cruz how to dance. They were failing miserably, but the smiles on their faces were huge. Otis and Cruz were lying in a huddle on the floor after falling over each other. Shay is kneeling because she's laughing so much. Gabby has her head thrown back with laughter, clutching at her stomach. Underneath Shay had annotated – I have a feeling we'll be teaching them to dance for the rest of our lives.

She gulped the wine so fiercely it hurt her throat. No we won't, she thinks bitterly, you're gone. And she can't do it on her own.

The third photo shows them in the back of the ambo, supposedly doing inventory. Instead, they were blaring out the words to a song that had played on the radio. Gabby's pained that she can't remember the song. Beside this photo is one taken from the front of the ambo, Shay in the driver's side and Gabby in the passenger seat, both blowing kisses to whoever was taking the photo. Gabby thinks it was Otis. Work never really seems like work when we're screeching with our glorious voices. And I'm pretty sure Otis thinks he got lucky when he took this photo. It's one of my favourites.

They'll never have one more shift. One more call. One more stop at Joey's for ice-cream. One more call to Willy, their favourite doorman, as they drive-by. One more dirty talk in the ambo. They don't get one more. She'll miss that. She'll miss how they worked together without having to speak, because they knew what the other was thinking. She'll miss Shay's innuendos. She'll miss her laugh. Her smile. She misses Shay and she'd give everything to have to her back.

The next page gets to her. Thank you for always being there. I wouldn't have gotten out of that hole if you hadn't helped me. I don't do breakups, but you were there. You made it better. Thank you. Above these words was a picture of Gabby burning Clarice's clothes with the words 'Clarice is a bitch' written on the front of her t-shirt. Gabby had turned up at Shay's place armed with motivational t-shirts and tequila, and together they burned Clarice's clothes after she'd told Shay she was leaving her and she didn't want her stuff back. Shay's t-shirt had read 'I'm worth more.' That night had helped Shay out of the gutter.

Gabby still has that shirt. Shay still had hers' too. Gabby wonders where it is.

So she goes looking for that too, leaving the photo album on the sofa but taking the wine with her. She's not numb yet. She doubts she'll ever be. But it's worth a shot. She can't tell if the wine is making it better or worse. Right now, she doesn't care.

She rummaged through her closet but it's not on a hanger, so she looks in her old t-shirt drawer and she finds it at the bottom of it. The blue shirt with white writing is a little faded, but it's every reminder she needs. She clutches the cotton to her chest, collapsing against the drawers with choking tears and desperate breaths.

She wants to drink more wine. She's drunk about a quarter of it and it's had little effect. Not the effect she wants it too. She wants to drink more, but she can't. She's breathing too fast and too shallow, and she's crying so much she can hardly see past the blurry tears. She tucks her knees up into her chest, burying her head against them, the material tight in her hands buried between her chest and knees.

She hurts. She hurts so much. She wonders how people get over this grief. She wonders if they ever do. Do you just learn to live with it? No, Gabby doesn't want that. She wants to be able to think about Shay without crying. She wants to remember the good things, but right now, every time she thinks of Shay all she sees is the beam hitting her head and her body limping to the floor. All she thinks is how they traded places, how it should have been her standing there and not Shay, and how when her hands pounded compressions into her chest, they never worked.

In the back of her mind she thinks she hears the front door opening and closing, but she can't be sure. But then she hears Matt call for her and then Kelly too. She doesn't want them to see this, to she her like this, but it's too late. Anyway, she's glad she's not alone anymore.

Warm familiar arms enclose her body before she realises it, pulling her shaky body to their chest and kissing her head. It's the first time in a month since she's let Matt see her cry this much, the first time she's let him see that she's not coping. Matt see's the precious t-shirt bundled in Gabby's hand, the open wine bottle by her side, and in a way, he's glad. She's allowing herself to feel, rather than try to pawn off that she's fine. He knows she's not. He's glad she realises it.

Kelly had followed Matt upstairs too, after hearing the sniffles and the wails also. He's not really prepared for what he sees. He hadn't seen Gabby like this before. This distraught. He felt his emotions were mirrored by Gabby's actions… He realises that he's not the only one grieving too. They all are. The family has lost someone. Their grief is universal. Kelly sees the wine bottle, understanding why Gabby had tried to lose herself to alcohol. Kelly was glad there wasn't more than a quarter or so gone. He'd been quick to realise that alcohol does little to numb the pain. Sometimes it intensifies it.

Gabby had lost her best friend too. They shared this. This pain.

He'd spotted the photo album on the sofa as they came in. Kelly knew what it was. He was afraid to look inside. He'd guessed Gabby had.

It had been six weeks. A lot can change in six weeks, yet so little too. They'd lost Shay, they'd buried her and they'd let grief consume them. That hadn't changed. Six weeks on, little progress had been made. The grief still made itself noticed when they woke in the morning, or in the middle of the night. It still seeped into their lives.

"She's gone…" Kelly hears Gabby sob, which is enough to bring tears to his eyes too.

She's gone. She'll always be gone. It's permanent.

Kelly, he determined, hated permanency.

She doesn't realise it but after half hour or so, her tears begin to run dry. The sobbing subsides too, but the pain, the pain is still there. Still ever present.

Shay's still gone.

Gabby wonders when it won't shock her to think that. In a way, she doesn't think it ever will.

She's bundled in Matt's arms resting awkwardly against the wooden drawers. Kelly left a while ago, now downstairs making some coffee for her. They aren't sure if the wine has gotten too her, or whether this is just Gabby letting it all out. Coffee, Kelly decides, is the best course of action right now.

Truth was, he hadn't a clue of how to deal with this. Truth was, he wasn't dealing with it himself.

But the three of them could get through this together. Shay would want that. For them to help each other and Kelly realises, that he wants that too.

Matt comes downstairs before Gabby. She's in the bathroom. Matt looks sad, worried but yet slightly relieved. Kelly realises that this is first time in a while Gabby has let it all out like this. She's bottling it all up too.

Matt takes some coffee after murmuring a thank you. Kelly nods. He has so many questions but he doesn't know where to start. Finally, "Is she okay?" Slips from his mouth.

Matt rubs his face and Kelly sees just how hard it is for him, but he knows that if anyone can get Gabby through this then it's Matt, "I knew she was bottling it up, but to see her like this..."

Kelly doesn't know what to say.

Ten minutes later they hear bare footsteps on the wooden staircase, slowly padding their way towards the kitchen. They hear a sniffle. She appears in the doorway, her eyes still slightly red, her cheeks flushed and looking completely drained. Kelly was too.

Kelly stood closest to the coffee machine so he murmurs, "Coffee?" to her to which she nods gratefully, desperate for a little energy in her body.

She was usually so strong, so stubborn, it scared Kelly slightly to see her like this. It also made him look at himself and how he was, or wasn't, coping with Shay being gone. He guessed Matt and Gabby were just as worried about him as he was of Gabby.

She's embarrassed. She kept it up for so long, the façade, but since she's let her emotions flow with the Chaplain they can't seem to stop. Like a dam had been opened inside of her. She didn't want them to see her in that state of pure misery and loss because she knew how much she was worrying Matt to begin with. She couldn't stand worrying him more. And she didn't want Kelly to know because he needed people to lean on, he needed her and Matt, and she wanted to be strong for him. They couldn't let him do this alone, but she couldn't help him if she was breaking down at every moment she had to herself.

But they needed to help each other. They needed to be honest. They needed to talk.

She heads into 51 knowing that her shifts left here are numbered. That frightened her. That excited her. In truth, she hadn't a clue how to feel. She has to remember that 51 will always be home. She was glad she stayed on 61 after losing Shay, the house needed stability, normality, or however close to normality they could get. However, things would never be truly normal again... They'd have to find a new normal. A new status quo.

Gabby didn't want to disrupt that with leaving. She wanted to make the blow was light as possible. She wanted them to be ready for another new face. She wanted to be ready to walk away from work at 51. To walk away from ambo. To be ready to move on. Like she'd said before, 51 will always be home. It's where her family is, but she'll have to get used to hearing the bells go off and not climbing aboard 61, with Shay.

But she has to remember that Shay's gone.

This makes her dash to the bathroom, tears burning her eyes. She swallows them down.

She was also hiding from Chief. She knew he'd be looking for her. She knew he knew what really happened that day. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to relive it. Matt and Kelly were encouraging her but not pushing her to talk. She was trying, but she can't really express how she's feeling when they don't know the truth. She's scared what Kelly will think.

She hides until Mills comes into the bathroom when she quickly leaves, hoping that she'll just have luck on her side and she'll avoid the Chief. Herrmann's talking about some new Molly's business plan with Otis, Cruz and Mouch. She tries to listen. It goes over her head.

When shift starts they're called to the conference room for their typical briefing before shift. Gabby delays heading inside. It'll be the perfect time for Chief to ask her to his office. Turns out luck is on her side. When she walks into the briefing room late, finding everyone already settled, the bell goes off, calling her and Brett to a suspected heart attack. She manages to avoid two things. One, seeing Chief and two, sitting at the table her and Shay sat at every meeting.

Chief catches her eye as they leave. She knows he knows. Gabby sees sympathy in her eyes. She feels guilt.

Turns out their suspected heart attack was just an extreme anxiety attack, of which the patient is now getting help for. Brett's a good paramedic, a little naïve because of the jump from a small town to Chicago, but she's determined and a hard worker. Gabby likes her. She misses Shay.

She makes Brett stop for gas on the way back.

She imagines Shay singing at the pump. She finds herself smiling. It feels good. It hurts, too.

When get back to 51 the meeting has long been dismissed and the guys are already nagging Mills for lunch. It's 11am. But it's normalcy. Gabby smiles again when Mills tells Cruz off. Otis sheepishly picks at a packet of chips. Herrmann tells Mouch that he's got until Friday to come up with this new idea for Molly's 2. Gabby feels excited. She remembers Shay talking about expansion. Gabby thinks Shay would be happy with a Molly's 2, after all, it was her idea.

This morning isn't all that bad. She's making it through. She's smiled and her every thought isn't about Shay. She can see light at the end of the tunnel.

Then the Chief finally catches up with her. He finds her in the locker room. She can feel her stomach flip. She feels sick. She's shaking.

Chief sits opposite her on the bench and she stares at the lockers stoically. He notes the depressed look in her eye. He worries. He leans forward, elbows on knees, sighing, "Gabriela... what happened..."

The bells sound. It's for ambo. Chief re-routes the call.

Chief turns to her once more. She's staring off blankly, trying to hold it together. He takes her shaking hands in his, his thumb tapping the back of her hand as he says, "Don't bury it, Gabriela..."

And the dam breaks once more.

"If it'd just been ten seconds before..." she sobs ruggedly, "Ten seconds and she'd still be here Chief..."

"It's not your fault we lost Shay," he answers with a low tone, he's unsure of what to do. She's so lost.

"I made her switch places with me... I told her she'd have to do it alone soon... And she was stood where I was standing, where I should have been...when the beam came down..." Gabby cries with a shaky voice, trying to hold herself together but failing. The tears coming too hard and too fast. It was hitting her again. The unbearable pain.

She hears an intake of breath. It's not from her. It's not from Chief. She looks up quickly. She's met with green eyes. Kelly.

She can't make out his expression. She tries to control her sobbing. She fails. Chief tries to say something. He stops when Kelly steps forward. Without a word he crouches down beside Gabby. She stares at him with shock.

He pulls her into his arms. She cries that she's sorry. He murmurs, "It's not your fault..."

Kelly doesn't understand the impact of those words.