Author's Notes – I do not own any of the characters of Chicago P.D. Spoilers for Season 2, Episode 7.

So this story popped into my head overnight and this morning. I have never written for Chicago P.D., but couldn't get it out of my mind. I hope that I have done some sort of justice to the characters and that they don't seem to out of character. The look in Ruzek's eyes when I watched this episode made my heart break for his loss. This is intended to be a one shot, though I have to say in my other writings I have yet to be able to leave a story with just one chapter.

Please read and review. Let me know your thoughts. I enjoy feedback whether it is positive or negative. The words of the reader have an ability to give the writer insight they would otherwise never be handed. Also, let me know if this is something you may want to see continued or if it makes sense to leave it as it stands.


Sitting at the table surrounded by fellow officers, she raises her glass alongside the others. A toast out of respect for a fallen brother. It's a somber event that reminds each and every one of them just how dangerous the job can be. It's one thing to be prepared and vigilant about your surroundings, but for a life to be snuffed out in a surprise attack that had nothing to do with the skills of the officer is something completely different. There was no way for him to have predicted or prevented the act of violence. He was just there one minute going about his duties and gone the next. The scenario is one that every officer fears the most.

Her mind wanders to his face. The way he stopped when the officer's name was revealed. Disbelief etched in his eyes and features. His voice wavering slightly when he asked if Officer McCadden's wife had been notified. He was close enough to the man lying dead at their feet that he knew her name. Watching him uncover the body of his friend and the way he faltered in his attempt to not break down in front of the others was almost more than she could handle. The one thing she knows for certain is the man in front of her is a fierce friend. One who gives everything he has to protect those he cares about. Hell, he gives everything to strangers when he is on a case. No one could ever accuse Adam Ruzek of not caring.

It took everything in her power to not reach out to him. She replayed the reasons they were keeping their relationship under wraps in her mind. It was her idea more than his really. But, in this moment, as she tried to stop herself from breaking down watching him, Burgess questioned whether she could hold true to the notion. Seeing his chin quiver was the last straw and she made herself look away before she dropped to her knees to envelop him in an embrace. An action that would have spoken volumes to those around them. Instead she stood in place as Olinsky and Atwater let their hands run across the span of his shoulder in a small gesture of comfort and made a silent vow to make the moment up to him as soon as she could.

However, instead of making good on that vow, she was currently sitting around a table at Molly's raising a glass to the man lost to the job. The case had taken a life of its own, as most of them do, and even though they all knew the man responsible was dealt with, she knew Ruzek was not going to step away until they had justice for the children who had been kidnapped and brutally abused. She only hoped he would reach out to her when the job was done. When he was finally able to walk out of the station knowing that he had done everything in his power to make the atrocities right in whatever small way he could.

She finishes the glass in front of her and excuses herself to use the restroom. Passing through the multitude of patrons, Burgess abruptly stops as she takes in the figure sitting at the bar. Ruzek is sitting by himself nursing a glass of his own and looks more lost than she has ever seen him. After brushing aside the immediate tinge of hurt that he had not reached out to her, she makes her way to the remote corner rarely occupied by anyone. Taking the stool to the left of him, "How long have you been here?" She gives him a moment to respond before she places a hand gently on his arm, "C'mon. Let's go back to your place."

As if just realizing she is there, Ruzek turns slightly towards her. His hands are crossed along the top of the bar and he leans forward resting his chin on the hand closest to him with his thumb coming to rest alongside the bottom of his lip. He stares into her eyes like he is trying to find answers to questions that haven't been asked. She struggles to maintain eye contact with him and pushes aside the discomfort she feels at being held in such scrutiny. She offers a sad smile instead of looking away and rises to her feet while simultaneously reaching her hand out for him to take.

He stares at her hand for a moment before taking it in his own. Throwing a few dollars on the bar as he stands, he follows her lead taking note of the occasional look from fellow officers as the two make their way to the doors. He is struck with just how little he cares whether they suspect something or not. This whole notion of keeping their relationship a secret was never something he had wanted to go along with anyway and in this moment he just needs her. The person Ruzek knows he can be weak in front of and not be questioned. Not have his ability to do his job examined. The notion that he feels too deeply to do the job effectively. Deep down, Ruzek knows how ridiculous the thought is, but it is there nonetheless. It isn't like everyone on the team hasn't had moments where their resolve broke and god knows they weren't judged. Not really anyway. They may have been pulled from a case or put on a desk while they gathered their wits, but no one expected them to be unaffected. They all know how hard the job can be and just how quickly it can become personal.

Making their way to the car, he allows Burgess to lead him to the passenger side of her vehicle. As they move through the streets, he watches the sites pass by him. His thoughts drift to his friend and the life that was ripped from them all too soon. Looking over at the woman beside him, Ruzek feels an ache in his heart as he realizes that his good friend never even knew about her. He had mentioned that there was someone in his life, but refused to give him a name. McCadden had ribbed him endlessly about this fictitious girlfriend, but he knew deep down his friend didn't doubt the realness of the woman Ruzek spoke about. It was just another reason to hand him his ass. Another joke about amongst friends.

He swallows the tears that threaten to fall as his gaze goes back to the city passing in front of him. The loss has definitely hit him harder than he could have ever imagined and he struggles to figure out why. Notwithstanding their friendship, Ruzek feels there must be some underlying reason why the loss is hitting him so hard.

His mind drifts to the officers lining the street in front of the station. The receiving line of sorts. All there to pay their respects to the McCadden's widow. To his little girl. As he took his place in line, he remembers seeing Burgess out of the corner of his eye. He knew she was watching him as well, but he set that aside and focused on the wife of his friend as she walked down the steps towards the car waiting to take her home. Back to where she would have to grieve a loss that no one lets themselves believe will happen. One that can't be explained or justified.

They arrive at his place and he slowly gets out of the car taking the lead for the first time since she found him at Molly's. Unlocking his front door, Ruzek steps aside allowing Burgess to enter first. He walks across the threshold pushing the door shut and locking it in what appears to be one swift movement. He leans his head against the door and takes a deep breath before turning the face woman standing across the room. Walking slowly past her frame, he goes into the kitchen and retrieves a glass to fill with water. The action is really just a diversion. Ruzek knows he needs to talk to her. Not just to ease her mind. To ease his own. Unburden his thoughts. His fears. He just isn't sure he can put everything into words. Especially when there are parts of the equation he just isn't sure about.

Walking back into the living room, he wraps his arms around her waist pulling her close and buries his face in her neck breathing in her scent. It soothes him almost immediately and he suddenly isn't sure why he was so hesitant. Why he questioned the need to feel her arms envelop him in an embrace. To know that she understands what he is thinking without a word being spoken.