Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With Dawson back on Ambo, Casey needed to find a new member to take her place. While he wasn’t looking for candidates specifically, he was always open to bringing in the newbies. He was once in the same boat, after all, and there was a kind of fulfillment as you saw your candidate grow under your command. So, when Chief had told him a promising candidate was looking for a home, Casey had been quick to agree to let them on truck for a few shifts to see how it went. Their first shift had gone great. Anthony Weaver was a promising team member. His only issue that Casey could see was that the kid tended to be clumsy. He had a bad habit of not looking where he was going or at his surroundings. He was better on calls, more dialled in, but once the gear came off, so did his composure. 

The Captain walked down the hall as he looked for their newest candidate. He was going to run some drills with him, see a broader range of skills and how he handled what Casey threw at him. 

“Hey, have you seen Weaver?” he asked Otis who was making lunch for everyone as he stepped into the common room. Otis looked up and shook his head. “I haven’t seen him for a while.” 

“Last I saw he was headed to the apparatus floor,” Mouch said, not taking his eyes off the tv. 

“Thanks.” 

Casey walked through the doors and looked around, but frowned when he still didn’t see the kid. Casey looked over at Squad who were playing a game of poker. 

"Hey, Severide, you seen the new kid around here?” 

Severide laughed as he pulled a pile of chips toward him and the table groaned, Capp throwing his cards to the table. 

“Huh? Oh, I think he’s over by Truck,” the Lieutenant answered, distracted by his winnings. Casey just smirked and nodded before he set off again in search of Weaver. As he walked around 61, he was once again met with empty space. 

“Weaver? You over here?” he finally called as he walked beside the truck to see if he had gone out to the driveway.  Just as the blonde was walking by the cabin of the truck, the back door where the team sat behind Casey and the driver’s seat flung open. It whipped open so quickly that Casey didn’t even have time to blink before it smacked him in the head and pain erupted over his right eyebrow. Stunned by the blow, Casey ended up falling back where his head made contact with the concrete apparatus floor. He tried to cushion the blow as he fell, lightening the impact, but stars still shot across his vision and he lay there stunned as his brain rebooted. He heard a shout above him but it was just noise with no meaning. Then the ground shook and a blur of people were suddenly standing around him. Casey blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. While it was no longer black, the world still had a haze to it, fuzzy shapes with no beginning or end. And there was something running down his face and into his right eye, hot and sticky, causing him to squeeze it shut to stop the stinging. One of the shapes kneeled down next to him and then something was pressed to his head and he groaned as pain laced through him. The pain however, sent a rush through him and things began to process again. He was laying on the ground, the concrete floor seeping cold into his back, and the person kneeling next to him was Severide. He blinked again and the world sharpened before him and then his brain fully caught up. Calling for Weaver. The door swinging open. And then pain. On instinct, he brought his hand up and tried to touch the sore spot on his head but Severide saw this and grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“No touching, Case. You’ve got a pretty good gash there.” 

He frowned. He knew the door had swung open, but why? Severide must have seen his look cause the next thing he said was, “Weaver. Apparently he was in the cabin checking out where we keep the supplies in there. When you called him he got a bit too enthused and kicked the door open, not realizing you were right there. Door smacked you in the face and you went down. We didn’t see it happen. All we heard was a loud bang and then Weaver was yelling something about ‘killing the Captain’.” 

Casey chuckled slightly and then winced when it tugged at the laceration.

“You good? How many fingers am I holding up? You hit your head hard on the ground.” Severide waved three fingers above Casey’s face. 

"How many am I?” Casey replied as he flipped him off. Severide chuckled and then looked to the group that had formed around them. “Yeah, he’s good guys. But he’s going to need stitches. Let Boden know what happened and tell him I’m taking Casey to Med.” 

Casey saw Cruz nod before he turned to go let Boden know that Casey was now out of action for the rest of the shift. 

“Help me up?” Casey asked, not wanting to lay on the floor any longer. 

“Right, yeah, just one sec. Keep holding the cloth on your head.” Casey took over holding the cloth and then Severide looped one arm around the blonde’s back before he pulled Casey into a sitting position. He kept a close eye on Casey for a moment, but when the blonde didn’t have any dizziness or vision problems, he reached down and grabbed Casey’s free arm and helped him to his feet. 

“Still good?” 

Casey nodded. His head hurt a bit from hitting the ground, but it was mostly the cut above his eyebrow that stung. Now upright though, Casey was able to see Weaver who was hovering a few feet away, a stricken look on his face. 

“I'm going to go get my car. I’ll be right back,” Severide said, patting Casey’s shoulder before he jogged into the firehouse to grab his keys. 

Casey took the moment to walk over to Weaver. “Hey, Weaver, it’s okay. It was just an accident.” 

Weaver’s head shot up and his eyes immediately went to where Casey held the bloody cloth against his face. Casey just shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“I should have looked before I opened the door! I don’t even know why I opened it so fast. When I saw you laying on the ground, I thought I killed you.” 

Casey reached forward and put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Take a breath Weaver. It was an honest mistake. And I’m sure you’ll make sure to be more careful in the future, yeah?” 

“Absolutely Captain! This will never happen again.” 

“Good. Now while I’m gone I want you to make sure all of the equipment in the truck is in working order. Can you do that for me?” 

“Yes, sir. I’m on it!” The kid bounced on his heels and then he was off to complete his task. Casey chuckled slightly as Severide pulled into the driveway and he made his way over to the car. 

After that incident, Weaver stayed true to his word. Every time Casey watched him open the cabin door, he saw the kid double check that the path was clear before he opened the door slowly. Each time Casey saw he couldn’t help but smile and glance at the thin white scar above his right eyebrow. Candidates. 

Chapter Text

The fire was cooking, flames spread across the ceiling and licking down the falls in intense waves of heat. Casey ducked and shielded his face as something popped further down the room and a fireball burst from it. This fire was turning dangerous, fast. They didn’t have much time. Squad was currently on the second floor while Truck was sweeping the main floor. So far it didn’t seem like anyone was home and the neighbours had confirmed as much before they had gone inside. Apparently the home owners had left for vacation a few days ago and the house had been empty ever since. But they still had to complete a preliminary sweep before they could knock the fire down. 

As their Captain, Casey was able to make the commanding decisions, unless Boden was on the scene. And while Boden wasn’t on scene today, Gorsch was and he was, of course, trying to take command. But Casey didn’t count his opinion when it came to an active scene. That man had never crawled a hallway in his life. 

“Severide!” Casey called over the radio. “Fire’s getting out of control. I want everyone to evacuate now.”

“Copy that Casey,” Severide replied and Casey smiled a bit. It was a bit of a weird dynamic ordering his boyfriend around at work, but it was also fun and something that Casey may or may not bring into the bedroom sometimes at home. He quickly pushed the inappropriate thought away. He was in an active fire; that's what he needed to focus on. 

He picked up his radio and pressed the button. “Alright everyone out! Fire’s getting too hot and there’s no one here. 51, get a line on it as soon as we’re clear.”

“Copy that Captain!” Herrmann responded over the radio and he received a few more “copy” responses from the rest of his team. 

Casey watched as his team left, always making sure he was the last one out. Just as Otis was about to walk out the front door, Casey rounding out behind him since Squad had already left, Casey’s radio crackled to life. 

“Hey, uh, there’s someone in their still, you can’t leave,” Gorsch said, voice not at all sure. 

“Where? We didn’t see anyone,” Casey answered back, ducking as a burst of heat hit his back. They didn’t have time to argue about this. 

“Uh, I’ve been told the basement.” 

Casey and Otis froze, Otis turning back toward Casey to give him a confused look. This house had a basement? From the outside, it didn’t look like it had and they hadn’t seen any doors that connected to the basement stairs. And why were they only getting this information now? If there was a victim trapped they were normally informed within the first few minutes of being on scene since it was obvious the information had come from someone on the outside. 

“Where the hell is he getting this from? We’ve been on the scene for ten minutes and suddenly someone’s inside?” Otis yelled from his position in the doorway. 

Casey agreed that something was definitely fishy about the situation, but he couldn't in good conscience leave a potential victim inside. 

“Go out, Otis. I’m going down to check it out.”

“But Captain, the fire’s too hot! This place will be fully engulfed soon!”

“I can’t leave a victim down there! Get Herrmann to start a line up here and plan to receive the victim through the basement window.”

Otis hesitated but ultimately nodded and exited the house. 

“I’m headed to the basement to get the victim. I’ll get them out through the window. Be ready 61. Squad, get to the window to assist.”

He hadn’t been able to scope out the basement before they went in since it seemed to be one of those sunken ones where you couldn’t tell from the outside, but each basement was required to have at least one window per the fire code. With how intense the fire was getting, Casey knew that that would be his only way out.

“Going now, Casey,” Severide responded. “Be careful, the smoke’s turning black.” 

With his boyfriend’s warning in mind, Casey turned back into the house and made his way through the thick smoke, his left hand on the wall as he searched for the hidden door. It took a moment of blind searching, but finally his hand caught on something and he realized that the door had been painted to match the wall and that’s why they hadn’t seen it through the smoke.  

What kind of stupid design is that? He thought as he opened the door and immediately crouched as black smoke pillowed out. 

As low as he could go, he started down the stairs slowly. Each step he took had the staircase groaning, the wood crackling under his weight. He wasn’t even halfway down when his radio crackled to life once more, Severide’s panicked voice on the line. 

“Casey, abort! There’s no window in the basement, you’ll be trapped!” 

Casey froze and weighed his options. If there really was a victim down there, he’d be leaving them to die. If he went down there and got trapped trying to save them, they could both die. 

He turned to look back up the stairs, trying to judge how close the fire was to the hallway where the door was, but before he could make his decision, the stairs groaned again and then a loud snap sounded before the wood collapsed beneath his feet and Casey was sent crashing to the floor. He landed hard on the pile of broken wood, the air knocked out of his lungs. He was completely blind as a thick cloud of smoke billowed from the basement as the wood joined the fire cooking down here as the perfect kindling to feed it, the rush of Casey falling adding oxygen to the fire. As he tried to draw air into his lungs, his breaths coming in short bursts that barely brought enough oxygen, his PASS alarm began to go off since he wasn’t moving. He coughed and wheezed as he tried to get his lungs to work properly again and then tried to roll onto his side. As soon as he moved his left leg he cried out and clutched his thigh which had shot tendrils of pain down his leg and into his hip the second he moved it. His hands touched something hard and he gritted his teeth as pain laced through his leg again at the contact. He took a moment to steady his breathing a bit more and then pulled himself into a sitting position, keeping his left hand supported on his thigh. He groaned as his leg screamed in protest and was panting hard by the time he was upright. 

He forced himself to breathe slowly and even to control the pain and also conserve his oxygen since he had been breathing rapidly the last few minutes. When he had calmed down a bit, Casey spared a glance at his leg and winced when he saw what had happened. Somehow, in the fall, he had ended up landed on a long, sharp piece of splintered wood, most likely one of the balusters that connected the base of the stairs to the rail. Blood stained his turnout pants around the piece of wood, but the object was keeping him from bleeding majorly since it plugged the wound. At least he had that going for him. 

“Case! Report!” Severide yelled over the radio and Casey realized he must have been trying to contact him.

“I’m good,” he grunted, coughing slightly as his lungs still protested his harsh landing. “Stairs collapsed though, I can’t get out.” 

“Alright hold on! The house is fully engulfed upstairs now. Herrmann’s going to beat it back and then I’ll come and get you as soon as I can. Just hold on!”

“It’s going to take more than a staircase to get me,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light. His boyfriend huffed out a laugh but Casey could hear the worry in it. “Next time, try not to fall on the job.”

Fire rushed over Casey’s head as it threatened to flash. He needed to find a more secure spot to wait until Squad to get him and he also needed to see where the victim was down here. 

With great difficulty, Casey managed to pull himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his right leg. His left thigh burned with each movement, the spear of wood shifting in his leg, but he had to push through it. His major concern was surviving as the fire continued to grow, hot and deadly. 

Casey limped toward the back of the room, his left hand clutching his leg to try and give it some stability, but each step was grating. He grit his teeth as he walked, trying to breathe through the pain. He could barely see in front of him. It would be better to get lower to the ground where the smoke was less dense, but he could barely stand let alone crouch as he made his way through the basement. 

Finally, he reached the back wall and collapsed against his, his left leg sticking out in front of him, bent slightly so the wood stuck in his leg didn’t hit against the floor. He hadn’t seen or felt anyone as he made his way over here. With the fire, smoke, and his injury, he wouldn’t be able to do a thorough search. He had to hope that whoever was down here was in a safe enough spot that they could survive until help got to them. But the smoke inhalation they had been subjected to might have already proved too much. Casey shook the thoughts from his head. There was no point speculating. There was nothing he could do now. 

He heard the roar of the fire line upstairs and the hiss of steam as Herrmann and his team fought back against the fire. Water began to drip from the open doorway to the basement floor where it hissed and bubbled as it hit the fire that had formed where the stairs used to be, all that was remaining a pile of wood. Squad would be there soon and he could get out.

Just as Casey was beginning to feel a bit hopeful, an alarm went off in his ear and he jumped before he realized what it was. His SBCA alarm was going off. He was almost out of air. He cursed and grabbed his oxygen monitor and saw that he had less than 10% left. He tried to slow his breathing even further, but the steadily growing heat of the basement along with his injury made it impossible and soon his air ran out completely. He ripped his mask off as the oxygen stopped flowing and immediately started coughing as he inhaled the thick smoke around him, his already abused lungs burning. He pulled his protective hood over his mouth and noise, trying to breathe shallowly, but his lungs still burned from the hot smoke and ash. 

“Almost there, Case!” Severide said over the radio and Casey could hear their pounding footsteps and jangling of the rescue ropes as they made their way through the house. He could only watch as someone from Squad fired an extinguisher, beating back the flames at the bottom of where the stairs used to be to make a path for them to repel down to Casey. Then a figure descended from the main floor, unhooking from their ropes as soon as they touched the floor. 

“Casey, call out!” Severide yelled over the noise of the fire and the hoses still going upstairs. Casey couldn’t call out, his throat and lungs burning from the smoke, so he pushed his PASS alarm instead to help guide his boyfriend to him. 

Sev quickly made his way over to where Casey was leaning against the wall. The moment Severide saw he wasn’t wearing his mask, he ripped his own off and helped put it on Casey’s face. 

“Take a few deep breaths, Case, that’s it. Why the hell is your mask off anyway?”

Casey sucked in a few deep lungfuls of air, breaking out in a coughing fit as his lungs tried to get rid of the smoke.

“Oxygen ran out,” he managed to grunt and then he pushed the mask back toward his boyfriend. Sev looked like he wanted to protest, but Casey pushed it toward him firmly. One of them needed a steady stream of oxygen or else they’d both be in trouble. Sev put his mask back on, coughing slightly, and then said, “you hurt anywhere?”

“Leg.”

Severide looked at Casey’s right leg and when he didn’t see anything, he switched to the left and immediately hissed in a breath. 

“You didn’t say you were impaled!”

“Didn’t seem important at the moment.” 

Severide shot him a look, but when Casey began to cough again, he helped pull him to his feet, catching him when he stumbled as he accidentally put weight on his leg. 

“Alright, let’s get out of here.” He wrapped an arm and helped him over to where the rescue ropes were. He got Casey strapped in first, mindful of the wood sticking out of his thigh, and then Casey was hauled up, his leg on fire with the jostling. Sev was helped up next and then Casey was being helped out of the house, the arms around him pushing him forward more than he was propelling himself. 

When Casey met the fresh air, he doubled over, Severide’s hands the only thing supporting him, as his body was wracked with coughs. Suddenly a gurney was placed under him and he layed back as cool oxygen was placed on his face and he greedily sucked in the sweet air, coughing intermittently. 

He felt his leg being moved and yelped as he watched Brett wrap gauze around the wood so that it wouldn’t jostle any further. He just nodded, hands clenched at his side, fingernails digging into his palm as he fought against the pain, and turned toward Severide who was right by his side. 

“The victim-” he wheezed and Severide looked at him with concern. “Didn’t find them.”

“Hey, don’t talk, Case. Just focus on breathing. I’ll handle it.” 

His boyfriend turned and waved Cruz over. “The victim’s still in the basement. Soon as the fire’s out, get ready to go back down and look.”

Cruz jogged up to them, wincing. “About that Lieutenant… I just overheard Gorsch talking with a neighbour. It turns out there was never a victim inside.” 

Severide’s whole body went stiff. “What do you mean there was no victim?”

“Turns out Gorsch was told that the family cat was in the basement but somehow that got miscommunicated and he thought there was a person inside.” 

Casey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had gone back for a cat? The one animal who almost always got out on their own? And on top of that, how the hell did you confuse a human victim for an animal? 

Casey could tell that Severide was just as angry, if not more. His boyfriend’s hands clenched into fists as he directed his gaze on Gorsch. “You’re telling me that he put my boyfriend’s life in danger over a damn cat?”

Cruz nodded and Casey could see he was angry too. Gorsch’s reign had to be stopped before he got one of them killed. 

“He also didn’t check the building blueprints so he didn’t tell us about the lack of windows in the basement until Casey went down there.” As commander of the scene, it was his job to get all of the information to his firefighters as quickly as possible. Boden was always on top of all of that. Any information, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death in an active fire. 

“That’s it, I’ve had enough,” Severide muttered and started forward. Despite the pain it caused, Casey lunged forward and grabbed his boyfriend's arm before he could go over and do something that, well he wouldn't regret, but could get him in trouble and most likely suspended. 

Severide whipped around as Casey cried out in pain as he accidentally hit his leg on the stretcher. 

“Case…” Severide said softly, regret plastered on his face.

“M’fine. Just trying to stop you from doing something stupid.” 

Severide walked back over and squeezed Casey’s hand. “Not like it wouldn't be something we all wish we could do.”

“Amen to that lieutenant,” Cruz said and then turned back to help the rest of 51 with overhaul. 

“We’re ready to go,” Brett said as she picked up the stretcher and loaded it into the back of the ambulance. “You coming with him?”

Severide nodded and hopped into the back with them, shutting the ambulance doors behind him. As the ambulance started off down the road, Casey watched as Severide took his phone out and dialed a number. 

“Calling the Chief to tell him about Gorsch?”

“Yup. I’m not letting him set foot on one more scene with us. He could have gotten you killed.”

Then the Chief answered and Severide dove into everything that had just happened, speaking more animately than Casey had ever seen. He smiled as he watched his boyfriend. Severide would always take care of those he loved.

Chapter Text

Casey groaned as he pulled the pillow over his face, pressing it tightly so that no light could get through. He was laying in his bed in his office, the blinds drawn, and his head pounding incessantly. Unfortunately, ever since his major head trauma a few years ago, he was more susceptible to headaches and migraines and they could hit at any time. This one had decided to slam him in the middle of shift. 

He had taken both a Tylenol and an Advil, since the mix of the two helped with the pain best, but they hadn’t kicked in yet. He just prayed they did before he hit the nauseous stage of his migraines. The last thing he wanted was to be throwing up in front of the whole firehouse. 

There was a knock at his door, but Casey didn’t have the energy to move the pillow from his face, let alone sit up and answer it. The door swung open and then shut again before the end of his bed dipped as someone sat down on the mattress. Casey knew immediately who had entered his office without needing to see them.

“Migraine?” Sev whispered, always so careful to keep noise and light to a minimum when Case got like this. 

“Yes,” he managed to respond, voice muffled by the pillow. 

“Don’t talk, Case. It’ll make things worse.” Then Severide’s warm hand was on top of one of his own. “Tap my hand to respond. Have you taken anything for it yet?”

He tapped Severide’s hand once. Yes. 

“Alright, so they haven't kicked in yet. You nauseous?” His boyfriend knew him well. He had helped Casey through the stages of his migraines a few times now.

He tapped his hand twice. No. 

Severide squeezed his hand gently. “That’s good. Do you want me to tell the Chief you’re out of commission?”

He tapped Sev’s hand twice. Then he took a deep breath and moved the pillow off his face. The meds were finally starting to kick in, taking off the sharp edge to his migraine and making it so he could function a bit more. 

“There you are,” Severide said softly, a smile on his lips. Casey smiled slightly back, grateful that whatever light was able to get through his blinds didn’t send spikes of pain, like sharp daggers, through his skull. 

“I’ll be okay once the meds kick in,” Casey whispered, “I caught this one early.”

Severide nodded and squeezed Casey’s leg affectionately. “Do you want me to massage your head and neck to make it go faster? I’m done with all my paperwork and with all the blinds shut no one can see us.”

“Would you?”

Severide laughed gently. “Of course babe. You know I’ll always help when you’re in pain. Now roll over.”

Casey did as he asked and felt Severide scooch closer on the mattress until he was in the middle of the bed. Then his warm hands, those beautiful strong hands that Casey swore were magic, sank into the knotted muscles of his shoulders and neck and began to rub, gentle at first, but harder as the muscles began to loosen. He moved in circles, working out the tension in Casey’s neck as he slowly worked his way up, fingers pushing into all the right spots on Casey’s skull. He groaned as Severide pushed a particularly tender spot, the pressure wrapping around to his face, but it hurt in the best way, loosening all the tightness in his head and easing some of the pressure that was causing his migraine. 

“That’s it, Case. Relax.”

Casey could do nothing but relax as Severide continued to work on his head and neck. He wrapped his hands around the back of Casey’s head, fingers reaching so they pressed on Casey’s temple and he began to move them in a circular motion. Casey felt the pull in his face and eyes and the pounding through his skull faded into the background like static on the tv. 

“Oh my god…” Casey drawled, halfway asleep. 

“That good?”

“S’mazing” he slurred, his body lax. Severide continued for a few more minutes before he stopped and laid down next to Casey, a hand on his back. Casey wanted to tell Severide how much it meant that he did that for him, that his head felt so much better, but he was so tired now, the massage and the pain meds pulling him to sleep, and he ended up drifting off, Severide’s comforting presence pressed into his side. 

Casey woke with a start, disoriented about where he was and what was happening but then Severide was there. 

“We got a call. You good to go?” Casey sat up quickly, pulling his boots on as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. His head still hurt, but it was at a normal headache level now, something he could easily manage. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks Sev.” 

Severide smiled and they left Casey’s office, jogging down the hall to meet their teams. “How long was I asleep?” Casey asked as they came up on the apparatus floor. 

“Just over an hour,” Severide said as he pushed the door open and turned toward Squad. “Be careful.”

“Always.” Casey shot Severide a smile that his boyfriend returned and then they were both jumping into their rigs, Casey grabbing his turnout pants as he hopped in so he could suit up on the way. 

The call was fairly simple. A bungalow had caught fire, starting in the kitchen, and it didn’t appear that there were any victims inside. Casey made the call for Truck to do a quick sweep of the main floor while Squad did the same for the basement. They’d be in and out and then Herrmann and his team could put a line on it and they’d be ready for overhaul. Once inside, Casey, Kidd, and Otis searched the main floor, checking under tables and behind couches to make sure no one was hiding. Casey spotted the intense flames in the kitchen and went to turn off the gas stove, a pan seeming to be the cause of the initial fire. As he made his way over, Otis and Kidd sweeping the final rooms, Severide called over the radio, “Basement’s clear! We’re coming up.”

“Copy Severide!” 

As Casey reached the kitchen he froze as he spotted an object next to the back door, right near the stove that was spitting flames. A propane tank. And it was whistling, ready to blow. 

“Take cover!” He yelled over the radio and began to dove to the side just as the propane tank exploded. The energy from the blast sent Casey flying back, a roiling wave of flame passing over his body but missing him by inches, before he slammed into the back wall of the kitchen, his head smacking off the wall, sending his helmet scattering. Pain exploded in Casey’s head, stars appearing before his eyes, as his headache from earlier bloomed into a new beast, pounding relentlessly behind his eyes, causing him to double over. The pain was so much worse than his migraine before. Nausea churned in his stomach and saliva filled Casey’s mouth. He breathed slowly through his nose as he tried to get himself together. He needed to get out of the house. 

A hand on his arm broke him out of his stupor as it hauled him to his feet.

“Case! You okay?” Severide. He gripped Casey’s arms tightly as he tried to angle his face to see Casey’s. Casey could barely think through the fog of pain, every one of his senses heightened to an extreme level and his nausea was getting worse. His stomach threatened to rebel at any moment. So he just nodded even though it made his head worse, dizziness rushing through him, but if he opened his mouth to speak he would vomit and that would only make things worse given that he was still in an active fire and had his SCBA mask on. 

Severide, bless him, didn’t question him any further. Instead, he wrapped Casey’s right arm around him and helped navigate him out of the house. Casey was glad Severide was doing all the work. He was putting all his energy into getting his legs to move. 

As soon as they cleared the house and were on the grass, Casey’s knees buckled and Severide helped lower him to the ground so he was kneeling. Casey reached up with fumbling hands and ripped off his mask just as his stomach finally rebelled and he heaved, vomit coating the grass in front of him. He felt Severide’s hand slide under his gear and onto his neck where he squeezed gently. Casey’s stomach clenched and he vomited again, body lurching forward as his stomach insisted on getting rid of all of its content. The vomiting turned to dry heaves and when he was done, he clutched his hands over his head, covering his eyes, as jackhammers drilled into his skull. 

“What happened in there?” Severide asked quietly as he hovered over Casey, shielding him from the happenings around them. 

“Hit my head,” Casey ground out, teeth clenched. 

Severide inhaled through his teeth in sympathy. “Aw, damn. That would make things worse.” 

"Make it stop," he pleaded, the pain consuming him.

There was movement behind Casey, the jangling of metal carabiners and buckles before something was draped over his head and the sunlight was blocked, casting him in delicious darkness. Casey sighed and relaxed slightly as the lack of light helped ease part of the pain. He was confused about what Sev had draped over him, but then he inhaled and breathed in the familiar scent of Severide; spicy cologne, coffee, and a hint of smoke. It was familiar, it was comforting, and it was home. It made him relax further. Severide had draped his turnout coat over him. 

“Do you want to go to the hospital?” Severide asked, his voice still low, as he lifted up the coat slightly so he could hear Casey’s response. 

“No. Home.”

“Okay, Case. I’ll bring you home.” He placed the turnout coat back so all the light was gone but placed a hand on Casey’s back to let him know he was still there. 

“He alright?” Casey heard Kidd ask followed by a different voice asking, “Is he sick?” That one was Boden. They must have come over to see what was happening with their Captain. 

“He’s got a migraine. He had one earlier but it got better. But he got caught up in the blast in there and hit his head and that made everything worse. If it’s good with you, Chief, I’d like to take him home.” Severide had started rubbing soothing circles on Casey’s back as he spoke, knowing the blonde well. Casey never liked being vulnerable in front of people, especially when they were talking about him while he was right there. 

“Of course,” Boden replied. “I’ll call in a temp for the rest of the shift- for both of you. You just take care of Casey.” 

“Thanks Chief.” 

Casey wasn’t sure if silent words were exchanged, but no one spoke after that. And then after a minute, he heard Boden and Kidd walk away, leaving just him and Severide. 

“Alright, Case, you ready to get out of here?”

Casey reached a hand out and caught Severide’s where he tapped firmly once. Severide chuckled. “I hear you. Chief's going to drive us home. I’ll get my car from the firehouse next shift.” 

Casey squeezed Severide’s hand letting him know he understood. Then Severide helped him up, steadying him when he wobbled, and helped him over to Boden’s car since Casey still had his coat over his head. He felt a bit ridiculous walking around with Severide’s turnout coat covering him like he was a child pretending to be a ghost, but he felt too miserable to really care at the moment. Plus, everyone at 51 would understand. When it came to things like this, 51 was always nothing but supportive. They were a family after all. 

Chapter Text

“Alright everyone, grab your tools and pack everything up so we can head back to 51.”

Casey got multiple affirmations in response and his team set to work, gathering empty oxygen bottles and tools they had used during the rescue. They had just responded to a fire in a bakery where they had pulled multiple people from the flames. Everyone had come out with minor injuries and smoke inhalation and then Herrmann and his team had put the fire out quickly, saving most of the building. The owners, a Polish couple, had thanked them profusely and told them that as soon as their shop was up and running again that they would be stopping by with baked goods for everyone. Casey had told them there was no need, that they were just doing their job and they should keep the baked goods to sell, but the couple had insisted and who was Casey to turn them down? They seemed so happy to do it and of course the rest of his team was practically drooling with the offer. Any promise of food and 51 would be there. 

As Truck continued to put the last of their tools away, Casey hopped into his seat inside the cabin to do his preliminary report on the Truck computer before he did his more official paperwork in his quarters when they got back. He heard the doors of the Truck slamming as his team closed them, fully packed up, but before they could join him inside, his radio went off.

“Main to 81. Requesting assistance with police at 9045 Laflin Street South.”

Casey picked up his radio to respond just as Kidd hopped into the driver’s seat, Mouch, Otis, and Gallo close behind as they took their seats in the back.

“Copy main. 81 responding now. ETA 5 minutes.”

“Copy that 81. Letting police units know now.”

“What’s that about?” Kidd asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

“We’ve got another call.   9045 Laflin Street South. Main requested backup for a police situation.”

“Sounds interesting,” Kidd said as she looked over her shoulder before pulling away from the curb, sirens on.

“We’re responding to a police backup call Chief,” Casey said into his radio, letting Boden know where they were headed. 

“Copy that Captain.” He responded and the line went quiet, but then Casey’s radio crackled again and Severide’s voice came over the line.

“Squad will join you on this one, Casey. Extra backup.”

Casey smiled at his boyfriend, knowing him too well. “Right, backup. You just don’t want to miss out on the fun.”

“Who says it can’t be both?” 

Casey chuckled and set his radio back down. He looked at his computer to see if Main had sent any more details along, but all it said was ‘disturbance- crowd involved.’ 

“Get ready guys,” Casey said as he shrugged off his turnout coat and placed his helmet on the dash. These types of calls didn’t usually require their gear, more their presence since the police had fewer numbers when responding to calls. 

Their truck rolled up onto the scene, Squad right behind them, and Casey heard Otis whistle behind him. 

“Well, that’s definitely a crowd.” 

The street was flooded with people, all huddled around something that was happening in the middle. From what Casey could see, the police were heavily outnumbered. There were only 5 or 6 officers, 2 in the middle and the others trying to get the crowd to push back. 

“Gear up 51,” Casey said into the radio so Squad could hear too. “We need to get that crowd under control.”

“Copy that Casey. Squad will take the left side, Truck can go right.”

“Sounds like a plan. Sev, you come with me to the middle to assist the officers there.”

Severide agreed and then they were all jumping out, each grabbing a halligan as a safety precaution. They never intended to use them in scenarios like this, but it was always good to have something on hand, especially when dealing with a rowdy crowd. 

Casey watched as Truck went right and Squad went left, hands in the air as they shouted for people to get back and let the police do their job. 

“Do you know what’s going on here?” Severide asked as they squeezed their way through the crowd to the middle.”

“No idea. Main wasn’t able to provide details.” 

Their questions were answered in the next moment. As they broke through the sea of people, they both halted slightly as they saw what was going on. A group of men were chained together on the ground, sitting in a circle, and the two officers that had tried to get them to move, since they were in the middle of the street after all, were also chained to them, both of their hands behind their back, connected to the men’s chains so that if they moved, it moved the group of men. 

“Well, you don’t see that every day,” Casey muttered as he and Severide sized up the situation and Severide scoffed. 

“What’s going on here?” His boyfriend asked, directing his question at the cops, but a man standing in the crowd nearby answered instead. 

“This is a peaceful protest that these police officers tried to stop, so they were introduced to the protest. Maybe now our voices will be heard!”

The crowd cheered loudly around them.

“What’s the protest for?” Casey asked, shifting on his toes, ready to jump in if the crowd decided to get aggressive. “You guys are in the middle of the street, you could get hurt.”

“Or killed,” Severide piped up. 

“The protestors on the ground stayed silent, but one of the cops spoke up.

“These clowns are trying to protest the cutbacks the city of Chicago just made to Highway Maintenance Workers. I told them they needed to go to city hall to do that, that they can’t be in the middle of the road, but they just locked me and my partner up. Now can you free us so I can arrest these morons?”

“Hey!” The crowd yelled, people protesting the cop’s words, and the crowd closed in on them, both Severide and Casey getting jostled in the protest.

“Hey! Knock it off!” Severide yelled as he caught his balance. “You could hurt your fellow protestors. You don’t want that do you?” 

The crowd seemed to take this into consideration and then they calmed, stepping back a bit. 

“Kidd, grab me 2 pairs of cutters,” Casey said into his radio.

“On it, Captain,” she responded. 

I understand you’re frustrated, but by having these officers locked up with you, you’re putting other lives at risk. What if there’s a call they need to respond to and they can’t because they’re chained here?”

The man from the crowd spoke again. “The city should have thought of that when they decided to take away jobs from hard working people. We have families we need to take care of! They just gave a raise to the police department, yet they’re laying us off? The city needs to stop playing favourites, and they need to do it now!” 

The crowd roared and Severide grabbed his radio. “Cruz! You guys need to get this crowd back now before things turn ugly.”

“We’re trying Lieutenant, there’s just too many! Police are sending more units as we speak.” 

As if on cue, the sounds of multiple sirens filled the air as more units rushed to the scene. A moment later, tires screeched as vehicles slammed to a halt and then multiple voices were shouting, “Police! Step back!” It took a moment, but with the added force, the crowd slowly started to disperse back onto the sidewalks, protesting the whole time.

“Kidd! Where are those cutters?” Casey asked as he scanned the lessening crowd. They needed to get the officers out now while the crowd was under control.

“1 minute away Captain!” Kidd replied and he could hear that she was jogging. A minute later she appeared from the thinning crowd and handed Casey the cutters while she handed Severide another pair. Both he and Severide moved in unison, Casey taking the cop on the right, closer to where the man who had done all of the talking was hovering despite the fact that the police were trying to get him to move back, while Severide took the one on the other side. As soon as Casey knelt down and grabbed the thick chains, the protestors on the ground began to move, making it hard for Casey to get a grip on the chain with the steel cutters.

“Hey! Knock it off! If you move, I could cut you!”

Casey finally managed to get leverage on one side of the chains and cut through, freeing one of the officers hands. He moved over to cut the next one and free the cop entirely when all hell broke loose. Out of the corner of his eye the man who seemed to be in charge pushed the cop that was trying to get him to back off. With his path clear, the man made a direct beeline to where Casey was kneeling next to the cop. Casey wasn’t sure what the man planned to do and he never found out. There was a clicking noise and something like a fly zapper and something sharp and hot exploded in Casey’s lower back and his whole body stiffened, muscles contracting quickly making it impossible to move. 

Casey strained as the current traveled through his body, veins in his neck bulging as he grit his teeth, trying to move, to escape from the pain, but nothing in his body was coopering. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn’t think. Then just as suddenly as it had started, the pain stopped, his muscles loosening and he collapsed on his back, cutters dropping to the ground, as he lay there, trying to catch his breath. He could still feel the sharp stinging in his back, but instead of the hot lightening that had flowed through him seconds before, his muscles felt as soft as putty now, an intense ache echoing through him. It took a second of blinking and deep breaths before he actually put together what just happened. He had been tased. 

Hands were on his suddenly and he winced when the sensation overstimulated his body and sent pinpricks through him where the hands had made contact. He felt himself being pulled back since he had fallen right next to the protesters and then Severide was leaning over him, his body blocking the sun that was making Casey squint.

“Case! Hey, you okay?”

Casey swallowed, his mouth dry, and replied, “Yeah, I’m good. Just need a second.”

“Take your time,” Severide said, running his hand through Casey’s hair.

“What happened?” Casey asked, shifting his head slightly to look around. Kidd had joined the police officers pushing the rest of the crowd back and both officers that were chained had been freed and were placing the protesters in custody, including the guy that had been running at Casey before he was tased. 

Severide’s face tightened with anger. “Mr. Trigger-Happy,” he started, pointing behind them to the cop that was straddling the protest leader, placing cuffs on the man’s hands, “decided that it would be better to shoot his taser first, aim later. He was going for the guy that charged you, but obviously he missed.”

That was for sure. Casey’s sore body was proof of that. “They got the other cop out?”

Severide nodded, his hand still running through Casey’s hair in a soothing pattern. “As soon as you got hit, I got my guy free and handed him the cutters so he could cut his partner loose. When I got to you all the cops had descended on the group, pushing everyone back. It was crazy. That’s why I moved you, I didn’t want you to get trampled.”

Casey nodded and raised his right arm to grasp his boyfriend’s squeezing slightly. His whole body felt like it had after a full day at the academy, but the dazed feeling had worn off. 

“Can you help me up? My muscles kinda feel like jelly right now.”

Severide chuckled lightly as he reached down to support Casey as they rose. “I can only imagine after getting shocked like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t recommend it,” Casey said as Severide helped him to his feet. His body felt wobbly and he stumbled a bit, but Severide made sure that he didn’t go down, a hand placed firmly on Casey’s back. Casey hissed as Severide’s hand drifted lower and brushed over the prongs that were still in his back.

“Sorry, sorry,” his boyfriend said as he immediately moved his hand. 

“Take them out- please,” he said as he gave Severide a desperate look. He normally didn’t react to injuries like this, but the thought of the prongs sticking into his back made him kind of nauseous. 

“I will. Just one sec, Case.” Severide turned and searched the crowd that had been pushed back almost to the sidewalks and then froze as he spotted who he was looking for. “Kidd! I need you over here.” 

Kidd turned and immediately jogged over. “You okay Captain? That couldn’t have felt too nice.” 

Casey chuckled but it sounded more like a groan. “I could have gone without feeling like a roasted marshmallow today.”

She winced in sympathy. 

“Can you pull the prongs out of his back? I’d do it, but you have paramedic training and I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

“Of course. I’ll get those right out for you Captain.”

Severide tugged on Casey’s shirt that was tucked into his pants that were inside his turnout gear, moving the turnout pant suspenders off his shoulder so he could pull Casey’s shirt halfway up, exposing the prongs. He heard his boyfriend hiss. 

“Those look like they hurt.”

Casey nodded. “Stung like hell, but then the electricity going through me kind of overpowered them.”

“As soon as you're good, I’m going to give that cop a piece of my mind. I mean what are you even doing firing your taser like that? There were civilians around too!”

While Casey agreed, he just wanted to let it go. He’d make sure to tell Mouch so he could tell Trudy, maybe give the officer some more training with his taser, but he didn’t want to cause any more drama than this incident had already had. 

“It’s okay, Sev. I’m okay. Let’s just get back to 51.”

Severide was quiet for a moment and Casey knew he wanted to do anything but that, but then he placed a hand on the back of Casey's neck and squeezed gently. “Whatever you want, Case.”

“Aw, you guys are so cute,” Kidd said as she placed her fingers on Casey’s back, inspecting the area. Casey felt himself blush slightly. He had forgotten she was there. 

“The good news is that they didn’t go as deep as they could have, although they’re still in there pretty good so this will hurt.” She didn’t give Casey a moment to process what she had just said before she yanked at the prongs and pulled them out of his back. He yelped softly, more in surprise, but felt relieved as soon as the metal in his back was gone. 

“Done!” She exclaimed and Severide dropped his shirt. Casey turned around and smiled slightly. “Thanks Kidd.”

“No problemo. Now I need to disinfect the small cuts and put some gauze on them and then you’re good to go. We’ve got all the supplies in the truck.”

Casey nodded and Severide put a supporting arm around his back, careful of the spots where the prongs were, as he helped Casey walk over to the truck. It was getting easier to move his body, things less wobbly with his strength returning, but everything still ached so he let Severide help him.

At the truck, Kidd ran an alcohol swab over the cuts and then taped a small piece of gauze over each and declared that he was all patched up. Severide helped him up the steep steps and into his seat.

“You still good?” He asked, half leaning into the cabin as Casey fastened his seat belt. 

Casey smiled tiredly. “I’m good, just sore. Although I don’t think I’ll be taking any police assist calls anytime soon.” 

Severide chuckled and then leaned down to kiss him quickly. “I’ll see you back at the firehouse. No more trouble, got it?” Then to Kidd, “keep him in line, will you?”

“Oh, I try,” she replied, a smile on her face. Severide gave him one more quick kiss before he hopped down and closed the door.

“Heck of a call?” Otis commented as Kidd began to drive. “I’d say it was even electric.” 

His team groaned at Otis, Kidd rolling her eyes as she said, “Really Otis? Bit soon don’t you think?” 

Casey saw Otis shrug unapologetically and smiled, taking it in jest as Otis had intended. Being a firefighter meant finding the comedy in the bad, it was how they dealt with their job and Casey wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Chapter Text

Normally Casey was paid to build houses, not tear them down. But the client he was currently working for, Joseph Warner, a big time lawyer downtown, wanted him to gut the whole inside of the house he had just purchased so that Casey could then rebuild it the way he wanted. It was a lot more work and would take more time and materials than a regular renovation job, but Casey didn’t mind. Other than his shifts at 51, he didn’t have much going on and this guy was paying him well.

 Lately, though, he hadn’t been taking too many big jobs that had him away from home for most of his time off shift since he reserved that time to spend with Severide since being together on shift didn’t really count. But Severide had also taken on a time consuming job to do off shift. He was helping to restore a 1962 Chris-Craft Constellation, a classic style yacht valued well over $100,000 dollars and that Severide had lit up like a kid on Christmas about as he told Casey about the job prospect. Of course, Casey had told him to go for it. He hadn't seen his boyfriend so excited about something in a long time and it made him happy to know Sev was able to bring back his passion for restoring boats since he hadn’t had a job in a while. So, they had both agreed to take on the projects knowing they could use the money to go on a trip they had been unofficially planning for over a year. The two of them hadn’t been away in forever and most of their “vacations” consisted of going to Severide’s cottage. This time they actually wanted to travel, to see some new sighs. Definitely somewhere warm and far away, where they could relax and simply enjoy each other’s company. 

It was approaching mid-day and Casey paused his work to send Sev a quick text telling him he’d be home late and to eat dinner without him. He wanted to finish the demolition in the basement today so he could start on the main part of the house after their next shift.

Severide replied quickly, telling him he'd keep Casey’s dinner warm for him. Casey smiled at how thoughtful Severide could be. He knew Sev had a reputation for being stoic, the person who didn’t get involved, but that was just a front that he had from growing up with Benny. Inside, Severide was one of the most thoughtful people Casey knew; he just had a hard time showing it sometimes. But Casey saw that part of him every day and it was one of the reasons he loved him. 

Casey tossed his phone into his toolbox so it wouldn’t get broken in the demolition process and then grabbed his rubber sledgehammer and started tearing into the drywall. The whole house had been poorly built and had a tough time being sold because of that. Joseph had ended up getting it way under market value and was now putting in the money to have the whole place re-done the right way.

He got into a rhythm as he tore down the walls and soon he was nearing the end of the first side. Towards the far end of the basement, the previous owner had installed a wet bar but had added this heinous half wall with a large pillar at the very end that went to the ceiling. His client had, obviously and in good taste, wanted it removed. Casey had checked the blueprints for the house and done tests on the pillar itself and confirmed it was indeed load bearing. This meant that he either had to keep the pillar or find a way to renovate it that his client liked. After going through the options, his client had decided on replacing it with ceiling support beams. Casey had been surprised, asking if he was sure. Ceiling support beams were the most costly and time-consuming way to create support for load bearing areas of a house. But Joseph had the money and was insistent that this was the look he wanted, so Casey had agreed. Who was he to disagree when this job was paying him so well?

So, Casey got to work on completely tearing the half wall attached to the beam. It held no purpose, supported no weight, and it was a definite eyesore. It closed off the space and in a basement, you wanted open floor plans to help compensate for the lack of natural lighting. 

As he got closer to the pillar, he was more careful with his swings so he didn’t knock into the pillar. But even if he did hit it, a good support pillar would need a lot of force to bring it down. They were built to even withstand foundational movement due to the ground shifting over time. But Casey was always careful anyway. 

He was almost done knocking down the wall, even considering taking a break, but he decided to continue on so he could be done earlier. What he failed to see were the cracks beginning to form on the ceiling around the pillar, the compromised ceiling joists, the planks that ran horizontally across the ceiling to give it support, covered by the drywall. As he kept hitting the half wall, it caused the pillar to shift slightly, attached to these joists, and pulled at them. Swing after swing Casey remained oblivious to the danger until it was too late. He swung again, the wall almost completely demolished, and froze when a large crack sounded above him followed by clunks and ripping as the drywall broke apart. He looked up and barely had time to bring his arms over his face to shield himself as the ceiling collapsed and wooden beams, drywall, and plaster dust rained down on him, blinding him as the dust coated his mouth and eyes. He felt himself fall and then something heavy landed on him, completely knocking the breath from his lungs as his ribs cracked. He would have yelled out in pain, but there was no air to do it. He could only wheeze as he tried to push the thing off of him, but it was no use. It wouldn't budge. He was pinned down. 

As the dust finally settled, Casey blinked rapidly as he tried to clear the debris from his eyes, spitting white gunk from his mouth, the chalky substance coating his tongue. After a moment, he was able to blink away the residual whiteness and finally get a look at what had happened. He was on his back, his legs and chest pinned with debris, and there was a giant hole, support beams and rebar jutting out from where the ceiling used to be. He could clearly see the main floor above. He lifted his head, wincing when it tugged at his chest, and wheezed out a curse, his lungs still trying to draw air into them. The support beam, the one that should never have fallen if it had been built correctly, had collapsed with the ceiling. Not only was it effectively pinning Casey to the ground, with 2 cubic feet of concrete set into the base and the top to hold the steel support beams in place making it way too heavy to lift on his own, the ceiling was now at even more risk of collapsing completely now that nothing was supporting it. The blonde tried to shift, desperately seeking to relieve some of the pressure on his chest, but cried out in pain as his ribs grated in his chest. The pain sliced through him like barbed wire squeezing his chest, and he was sure at least some of his ribs were broken. 

His heart began to hammer in his chest, his breathing trying to speed up but was impeded by the pillar, and Casey knew that he was about to go into full blown panic if he didn’t calm himself down. He laid back as flat as he could go, giving his lungs a bit more room to rise, and breathed slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth. It made his ribs protest, but he shut that out as he activated the first responder part of him, the side that was calm even in the most perilous situations. It took a moment, but then his heart rate slowed and he was able to think clearly, problem solve to get him out of this situation. 

The first thing he should do is call for help, but his phone was across the room in his toolbox and the house was empty. The second was to minimize his risk. He decided that his breathing was most important. He needed to be able to let his chest rise and fall as much as it could. Suppressed breathing for long periods of time could lead to pneumonia. So, he set himself on that task. Get more room between him and the pillar. The task seemed impossible. He was wedged between the pillar and the floor, but after a moment of assessing his whole body and where each limb touched, he realized that his left side was higher than his right. He was laying on something hard, the object wedged under his hip. With slow and precise movement, Casey managed to slowly wiggle off the object and free his hip. He grunted as it hit the floor, his chest burning from the movement, but when he inhaled it was easier to breathe and that’s all that mattered. 

With that task done, Casey’s chest seized as his situation fully dawned on him. There was nothing else to do but wait and hope that someone came for him. Surely Sev would come, right? His boyfriend knew where he was and the general time he was supposed to be back. He would come. Casey kept that thought in his mind. Severide would come for him.

- - - 

Time went by slowly. Or was it fast? Casey honestly couldn’t tell anymore. All his life had become was a constant fire burning inside his chest and the uncomfortable weight of the pillar over him. The white ceiling above him, since he had fallen back from the hole and this part was still intact, seemed to mock him, shapes and images swirling in his vision, mocking him. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen since he couldn’t pull a full breath or the fact that his blood was having to work harder to circulate with the heavy debris on him. Either way, Casey was starting to get annoyed. Couldn’t the images just leave him alone? It was bad enough he was stuck here with nothing to do. 

Casey blinked as he realized how insane that sounded. He needed to get out of here and he needed to now. Not only for the physical injuries he was incurring, but also for his sanity. He couldn't handle much more of the fluorescent lights bouncing harshly off the white ceiling, searing his eyes and frying his brain. 

He was reaching his breaking point when a loud buzzing caused him to flinch, his broken ribs sending stabbing pains into his chest with the movement, as the metallic reverberations echoed off the pin-drop silent space Casey had been trapped in for what seemed like eternity.

Sev? He thought hopefully. Surely it had to be his boyfriend wondering where he was. Casey had said he was going to be a bit late, but it must be well after dinner now. His hopes only rose as his phone rang again and then again. It rang one more time all the way through until Casey knew his voicemail picked up before the basement went eerily silent again. This was it. Severide had to be coming for him now. 

His prayers were answered twenty minutes later when he heard the sound of a car door slamming somewhere nearby. There was a moment of silence before the front door creaked open and a voice called out, “Casey? You here? Your truck’s parked outside, so you must be.”

Casey could have cried in relief. He might just start the moment he saw Severide’s face. He was finally getting out of here!

“Case?” Severide called again, boots thunking on the floor upstairs, his voice echoing off the empty walls. Casey would have called out if he could, but he could barely breathe let alone yell. He didn’t have to, however, as he heard Severide’s footsteps quicken and then stop.

“What the hell?” Severide asked and his voice was close now. He must be standing at the hole. Then his boyfriend’s head poked over the hole as he surveyed the situation and Casey saw his eyes widen the moment he spotted his trapped boyfriend. 

“Oh shit. Case, I’m coming!” He disappeared and Casey tracked his loud footsteps as he ran over to the stairs and practically flew down them, his boots only touching a few steps. Then he was in the room and running over to Casey. He kneeled next to him, placing one hand on Casey’s head and the other on Casey’s chest.

“Sev,” he croaked, throat dry.

“What happened? How long have you been stuck?” Severide asked as he began looking at the debris Casey was pinned under, no doubt already calculating a plan to free Casey with that Squad-wired brain of his.

“After I text you,” he ground out, coughing slightly and then groaning as shards of glass rattled in his chest from his broken ribs. 

Severide whipped his head to look at him, eyes wide. “Casey, that was six hours ago.”

So it had been a long time. It was nice to know he wasn’t going crazy. 

“Alright, just hold on, I’m going to get you out of here. If I can get enough leverage to lift the pillar, can you pull yourself out?”

Casey bit his lip. He had been stuck for a while, his body stiff and ribs broken, but Severide couldn’t give leverage and pull him out. It was the only way he could get free unless Severide called for help. But Casey needed to get out. He couldn’t be stuck for one more minute. So he nodded. He could do this. He had to. 

Severide got up and ran over to Casey’s toolbox where he grabbed a crow bar and then rushed back over. Then, he picked up a beam of wood that had come from the ceiling and placed it in front of him, angling the crow bar over it before he pushed one end of the crow bar under the pillar. 

“Okay, on the count of three I’m going to push down on this with everything I’ve got. I won’t be able to hold it for long though, so you’ll need to move quickly. I don’t want this crashing onto you again. Can you do that for me?” His boyfriend searched his face intently, ice blue eyes blazing with focus and concern. Casey looked back with as much determination as he could muster and nodded. 

“Okay then. One…two… three!” 

At the same time that Severide pushed down, Casey used his hands to pull himself back, propelling the rest of his body with his feet and using every ounce of strength he had left in him to get clear of the pillar. As soon as he was free, he collapsed to the ground, gasping like a fish out of water as his lungs expanded fully for the first time in hours and his chest burned like acid was being poured onto it. He vaguely heard the pillar crash back to the ground and then Severide was there, hands hovering over Casey’s body like he didn’t know what he could touch without breaking Casey into a million pieces. 

“How are we doing, Case? What hurts?”

“Chest,” he grunted and coughed, spasming with the pain. 

With gentle hands, Severide lifted Casey’s shirt and palpated the area. Casey knew he was being as gentle as he could, but that didn’t stop the yell that escaped him the moment Severide made contact.

“Sorry! Your chest is bruised but I don’t think you’re bleeding internally. Some of your ribs are definitely broken though. How's your breathing?”

“Better now.” He still wheezed, but now that the pressure was gone, his lungs were working as they should again. 

Severide nodded. “Okay, good. Am I going to be able to help you out of here or should I be calling an ambulance.” 

“No ambulance,” Casey said immediately and Severide frowned. “Casey…”

“No! Help me. I can do it.”

Severide looked at him for a moment and then sighed. “Okay, fine. But we are going to the hospital after this.”

He left no room for argument, not that Casey would have. While he hated hospitals with a passion, he was looking forward to the pain meds they could provide. Anything to numb the fire inside him. 

Severide got behind him and supported his back as he helped him sit upright, trying to keep Casey’s ribs as still as possible. He didn’t waste time in helping the blonde to his feet, knowing that once they started moving it was best to keep going since it was going to hurt like hell. He kept a firm grip on Casey as he was pulled to his feet and did most of the heavy lifting as they made their way up the stairs, one step at a time. Casey had never been so happy to be in Severide’s car after he had been placed gently into the seat. Severide shut the door and jogged over to the driver’s side and then slid in, starting the car and backing out of the driveway in record time. 

“Thank you for finding me,” Casey said softly even though he didn’t need to thank his boyfriend for that. Severide would always find him. 

Sev reached over and grabbed Casey’s hand, squeezing it gently. 

“I’ll always find you. You know that.”

Casey smiled despite the pain and pulled his boyfriend’s hand up to kiss it. Severide rubbed his thumb over the back of Casey’s hand in soothing motions. Everything would be okay now.

Chapter Text

“Darden!” His name echoes through Casey’s head as he just stares and stares at the broken window in front of him, flames spitting from the hole and black smoke billowing into the sky. Casey can’t move, can’t think. All he can do is stare, hands clutching the cold metal rails of the aerial, the feel of Darden’s turnout coat slipping through his fingers echoing in their touch. He was too late. 

“Casey!” Boden shouts over the radio as the Lieutenant stays rooted in place, ignoring the intense waves of heat that threaten to scorch his skin. “Casey, what happened?” 

Casey continues to stare at the window but finally moves his left hand, slowly bringing it up to the radio strapped to his chest, as if he went slow enough time would reverse and his world wouldn’t be crashing down on him right now. But that doesn't happen and his fingers fold over the plastic of the radio, pushing the button, uttering the words that seal his fate and turn the world upside down. “Darden’s gone.”

He doesn’t need to say anything else. Those words have told Boden, and everyone else at 51 enough. He didn’t say Darden was down, or that he was out of sight. No, he said he was gone. And he was. But Casey was still here. Staring at the window. If he looked away it would be real. Time would resume and Andy’s fate would be set. So he kept on staring. 

He doesn’t even look away when Squad comes bursting out of the house, Severide’s voice rising over the roar of the fire, but Casey can’t understand them over the roaring in his head. There’s no need for them to be inside now. The flashover would have killed anyone upstairs. Their victim was up there with Darden. 

“Darden!”

Casey squeezes his eyes shut tight as tears spill down them. He doesn’t even jump when someone puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Lieutenant,” Herrmann says softly, tugging on his shoulder. “Let’s get you down so 51 can put out the fire.”

Casey doesn’t resist as Herrmann leads him down the ladder. His body goes through the motions, but his mind is right back at the top of the aerial, staring at the window. As soon as his feet are on the ground, Boden is in front of him.

“Matt, are you okay?”

Matt. Chief never called him Matt. “Darden…” It’s the only word he can say. 

Boden reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. “I know. Go drop your gear and sit down. 51s got everything under control.”

Casey nods and walks away, doing as Chief says and shrugging off his SCBA and setting his helmet down on the back of Truck. But then he just stands there, turned back toward the house, eyes glued on the black hole that is the window, the eye of the monster that claimed Darden’s life. 

A rough shove breaks him from his trance and he falls back, barely registering the flare of pain in his wrists as they break his fall. His whole body is still numb. Then Severide is in his face, hands twisting the front of Casey’s turnout gear as he pulls him in close.

“What the hell was that? I thought you were a Lieutenant! What were you doing letting your man go in like that before we vented? You got him killed! You killed Andy!”

Casey just stares at Severide as he yells. It’s true. He got him killed. 

Severide’s grip on him is suddenly gone and he falls back, watching as Mouch pulls the still yelling Squad Lieutenant away, Severide fighting him every step. Then Herrmann is there again, hands on Casey’s shoulder, his touch gentle, his face solemn. 

“You okay Casey?”

But Casey isn’t okay. Isn’t sure he’ll ever be okay again. His gaze slides to Herrmann’s as tears spill down his cheeks, hot and fast. All he says is, “it should have been me.”

Herrmann’s face softens and he grabs Casey into a hug as Casey sobs.

“Hey, no, don’t say that Casey. No one deserved to die today.”

Casey shudders as sobs wracked his body, desperately clinging onto Herrmann’s turnout coat. “I’m in charge of him! It’s my fault! I should have stopped him!”

Herrmann lets Casey cling to him. “There was nothing more you could have done. Everyone knows how stubborn Darden was when he got going on the job. It’s not your fault.” 

Casey nods against Herrmann’s shoulder, but he doesn’t believe that deep down, not yet at least. It’s going to take a while to process what happened. How 10 seconds could change your life completely. 

It should have been me. 

Chapter Text

“Listen up team. I need one of you to go down there and do a sweep to see if there are any more victims. But this needs to be a quick sweep. Two minutes top,” Boden shouted as he surveyed the crow they had formed in a semi-circle around him. All the teams at 51 had been called to a possible gas leak in a mine shaft right outside the city. When they had arrived, there had been workers stumbling out of the shaft, coughing and tripping over themselves, claiming that everything had been fine one minute and the next that they had all started to get dizzy and nauseous. The miners also weren’t able to tell if everyone had got out, the panicked chaos making it hard to keep track of people. Boden had immediately ordered the gas meter and found that the levels were too high to combust, but if a gas line had ruptured, the levels would only decline from here with the wide opening to the mine acting as a vent. If there were people stuck down there when it dropped low enough, they’d be torched. 

Because anyone could say anything, Casey stepped forward. “I’ll go Chief.” He was their Captain after all. He wouldn’t put anyone else's life on the line when he was able to go down. Severide, who was standing a few feet away, turned sharply and gave Casey a look. Casey knew his boyfriend was questioning him, not wanting him to go down there alone with such a big risk of an explosion, but right now Casey wasn’t his boyfriend, he was his Captain and Casey’s life held no higher status for it than the rest of his men. He would go down, plain and simple. 

“I’ll go too,” Severide said but much to Casey’s relief, Boden shook his head.

“It’s too dangerous. I can't risk more than one man.” He turned to Casey. “Are you sure about this, Captain?”

“Absolutely. Send me in. I’ll do a quick sweep and be out in no time, Chief.”

Boden nodded and that was all Casey needed. He grabbed his halligan, made sure his SCBA was all set and at 100%, and then made his way over to the mine shaft’s entrance. He was quickly joined by Severide and Boden.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Severide said as he grabbed Casey’s arm, blue eyes luminous in the sun. “You go in, do a sweep, and get out, you hear me?”

Casey gave a quick squeeze to Severide’s hand. “I’ll see you in a few.” And then he pulled away, leaving Severide standing there, staring after him as he moved toward the ladder.

“I’ll monitor the gas levels and keep you updated as you go. Be careful Casey,” Boden said as he stuck the gas reader in the hole to begin his monitoring. Casey gave a curt nod and then slipped his mask on before he descended the stairs. When his feet hit the bottom, he looked up briefly and saw Boden and Severide leaning over the hole looking down at him from 15 feet above. Then he turned and made his way down the mine shaft.

“Fire department, call out!” He yelled and even muffled by his mask, his voice echoed off the damp walls. It was eerie walking in the dimly lit tunnel, no signs that anything was wrong. But Casey knew the gas was there, hugging his body, threatening to choke the air from his lungs if he took his mask off. It was a ghostly hand ready to strike and there was nothing Casey could do to stop it. 

He pushed on anyway, desperate to find any lingering victims before the gas turned into an inferno from hell. He rounded a turn and stopped when he spotted a woman lying on her side, not moving. He rushed to her and immediately hoisted her up and onto his shoulder. He was going to have to walk her to the exit. He didn’t have time for anything else. 

“-sey…ty…cent…ge…ow….”

Boden’s voice crackled through the radio in short staccato bursts, but Casey gleamed enough to understand. The gas was approaching dangerous levels and he needed to leave before things took a turn for the worse.

Hefting the woman a bit higher, Casey broke into a light jog, trying not to jostle the woman too much. When he got back to the entrance, Casey relaxed a bit when he saw that the rescue harness had already been lowered. He placed the woman onto the damp soil and then secured her into the harness.

“Ready on ropes!” He said into his radio and the woman began to rise slowly as 51 pulled the ropes from above.

“Down to 30 percent, Casey. Come up now,” Boden informed and Casey moved, gripping the ladder with one hand as he stepped with his left foot. He was about to start climbing when a voice called out, “help!” It was faint, but the echo in the tunnel carried the sound. Someone was still down here.

Casey dropped from the ladder and immediately started running in the direction the voice had come. 

“Casey!” This time it wasn’t Boden, nor had the call come from the radio. Severide had yelled his name and it was now echoing off the walls, the ghost of his boyfriend’s voice haunting him as he went against his words from earlier. He had promised to come back up after one quick sweep. But this was different. This person was conscious, knew he was down here, and Casey still had time. This person’s life would not become blood on his hands. 

Thankfully, the person wasn’t too far. They had been down a tunnel to the left and it made Casey sick to think of the other people that might be trapped in the labyrinth under the earth, but he kept telling himself there was nothing he could do. They had no time. But he could save this person in front of him and that was exactly what he was about to do. 

He grabbed the man and hauled him on his back in one smooth motion. As soon as he was secured Casey took off running, not caring how awkward it was or how much he was jostling the man. It was about life and death now, and time was death’s mistress. Casey made it back to the ladder and sent a quick word of thanks that the rescue rope was once again lowered to him.

“God damn it, Casey!” Severide yelled from above. “You weren’t supposed to go back!”

Casey ignored his reprimand. He could listen to Severide yell at him later when he wasn’t at risk of being charred like a burger on the fourth of July. 

“Bring him up!” Casey yelled, foregoing the extra step of the radio. The man began to rise faster than the woman, 51 knowing that time was running out. 

“Sixteen percent Casey!” Boden yelled. “Get out now!” Casey didn’t waste any time. The gas could be set off anytime once it hit fifteen percent. 

He was halfway up the steps when something cracked, the sound like a shotgun blast in the tense silence, and the ladder gave way, and with it Casey. He was in the air, the ladder still gripped in his fingers as if he was still climbing and then he hit the earth with bone rattling force, teeth gnashing together. 

“Case!” Severide yelled and Casey could see him leaning far over the edge of the hole from his position  sprawled on the ground. “Hang on, we’ll drop the ropes!” 

Casey groaned as he threw the broken ladder aside and sat up. Just as the ropes were dropped to the ground, the hairs on the back of the Captain’s neck stood up straight, his ghostly enemy building in power, ready to incinerate everything in its path with no mercy. Nothing visibly changed in the space around him, but Casey knew time was up. If he let 51 pull him up, they’d be caught in the fire as it exploded from the beast’s mouth, the whole of the mine shaft breathing fiery fury and taking lives without thought. 

So when he stood and grabbed the rope, he paused and stared up at the distant face of his boyfriend, memorizing every detail of his beautiful face. The way his skin was soft beneath his fingers, the spicy mix of cologne and coffee that Casey couldn’t get enough of, the gap between his front teeth when he smiled... He locked eyes with his boyfriend, his forever, and smiled. 

“I love you.” He saw Severide’s face shift into confusion and then he yanked hard on the rope. It fell to the ground in graceful flutters, those holding it above not expecting Casey to pull.

“Casey! No! What are you-” He stopped as Casey turned, keeping the image of his boyfriend’s face in his mind, and ran. Hopefully Boden would pull him away from the hole. Severide would try to come after him. It’s who he was. But Boden wouldn’t let him risk his life. He would know just as much as Casey that time was up, the incessant beeping of the gas meter telling him so.

The air seemed to stagnant around Casey, somehow becoming heavy and charged like it was alive and then Casey’s world exploded. He dove just as the ignition happened, his body flying through air that was no longer there and he felt himself impact something as hot stifling heat encompassed every part of him in a blaze of orange and red before he was plunged into empty blackness. 

If he were to ever know what it felt like to be a log in a fireplace, it was how he felt now. Casey groaned as he blinked. Was he alive? Or was this the afterlife? He hoped the former was the case since if this was the afterlife it, well, sucked. His right leg burned intensely, each throb of pain in sync with his heart, his body ached all over, and he couldn't see anything. The fact that he couldn’t see gave him pause. Was he blind? But then he lifted his head and brushed a gloved hand over his mask and found that he wasn’t blind, his face had just been pressed into the dirt.

Come on, Casey, get a grip. You’re not dead. You were just in an explosion. 

Explosion? He sat up abruptly and hissed as his right leg burned like acid flowed through his veins. As he moved it more gingerly, bringing it in front of him and stretching it out, he could see there was a giant hole in the calf of his turnout pants, charred around the edges, and the skin beneath was red and bubbled. 

He looked around and saw that he had ended up diving into that side tunnel where he had found the second victim, saving him from most of the fire. He guessed that his right leg hadn’t made it all the way in.

A small laugh escaped him as he looked at the charred environment around him, small fires scattered around the tunnel, and smoke wafting through the air like tentacles. There was a tinge of hysteria to the laugh. He couldn’t believe that he was alive, and had escaped with only a burn to his leg.

Using the wall as support, Casey got to his feet and limped out of the side tunnel to see the damage to the main part of the shaft. He turned his flashlight on, happy that it hadn’t broken in his fall, ang swung the beam around. So far all he could see was dirt walls and smoke. But then he turned and froze, his beam illuminated the space that had once been the entrance to the mine. Now it was a wall of dirt, the hole at the top completely sealed in what looked to be a cave in. He had survived the explosion, but now he was stuck. His breath caught as the reality of the situation set in. The gas leak was still active. If it wasn’t stopped, the mine could blow again. He sucked in a breath and his eyes went wide as his SCBA clicked and brought on a whole other problem. Oxygen. He only has some much in his reserve. If that ran out, he wouldn’t last long down here with the smoke and gas. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he would suffocate to death. 

Casey grabbed his radio, pushing the button with panicked reverence. “Mayday, mayday! I’m trapped down here! Need rescue!”

He let go of the button and was met with radio silence. No. This couldn’t be happening. He hit the button again. “Mayday! This is Casey. Can anyone hear me?” More silence. 

Casey cursed and pulled his radio off, throwing it to the ground. Whereas the signal had been spotty before, the collapse had cut it off completely. He took a moment, breathing deeply despite his oxygen concerns, as he tried to calm his mind. Panicking would do him no good. He needed a plan, a course of action, that would help him escape.

He released a long breath and then opened his eyes, feeling a bit more calm. He spotted his radio he had thrown into the mud and reached down to pick it up, strapping it across his chest. It couldn’t help him now, but it was his only lifeline to the world above.

His next plan of action was to find a way out. It was obvious his original entrance was a no go, so he turned and set off down the largest tunnel, limping down its dark path, not sure where he was headed but hopeful that it would end in rescue. 

He walked for what seemed like ages, but it was hard to judge time since his landscape never changed. As he kept walking, however, his right leg dragging behind him as he limped through the sodden earth, his boots squishing into the mud, he realized that he was on an incline, gradually getting higher. That was good. He wanted up. Up was where life was. 

After a bit of walking up, the mine levelled out again and Casey’s heart sank as he realized the path in front of him went down again. He stopped and looked around. There had to be another way for him to get out, there just had to. 

As he walked around the levelled out portion of the cave, he passed a mine-cart full of supplies and did a double take at what he saw behind the cart. It was an alcove of sorts. He walked over to it, pressing his hands to the wall and almost collapsed as his fingers came away wet. He looked up and saw why this area was so muddy. A steady trail of water trickled down the wall and where there was water, there was most likely an opening. 

In the dark of the cave, his flashlight beam the only thing illuminating his path, he slid his hands across the wall looking for an opening. He stumbled and slid in the mud, but as he reached the farthest point of the alcove to the right, he saw that there was a small chasm above him instead of a clay ceiling. He dug at the dirt, fingers clawing in the cool earth, as he pulled. After a few handfuls of dirt were freed, a chunk collapsed from the ceiling and opened the chasm enough that Casey could shine his beam through. He couldn’t help but give a cry of joy as he spotted a sliver of light about 10 feet above him. An exit. 

More determined than he had ever been in his life, Casey gripped an outcrop of rock that stuck out of a portion of the dirt ceiling, right by the opening to the natural crevice that was saving his life. Then he dug his left foot into the soft earth, getting a good hold before he repeated the process with his right. His right leg screamed in pain, the burn on his calf pulling the dead flesh from the exposed layers beneath, but he pushed through, injury be damned. He was going to die down here if he didn’t escape. 

He continued up the wall, but when he got to the opening to the small inlet that would be his escape route, he realized that he would need to ditch his SCBA gear in order to fit. It was now or never. 

Casey sucked in a few deep lungfuls of oxygen and then, holding his breath, he pulled off his mask and shrugged his harness off, letting it drop to the floor. His helmet went next, and he was plunged into darkness as his flashlight went with it. But then he was moving, heading up, the only direction he could, the path that would bring him to Severide, and he just kept going, kept moving, knowing that stopping meant death. He reached the crevice and clawed at it with everything he had, ripping roots and pulling rocks before the crevice opened up and sunlight flooded Casey’s face, the sun kissing his skin in welcome, as he broke free, gasping fresh air that smelled like dry grass, earth, and life. He pulled himself all the way out and collapsed into the tall grass, panting. His whole body was covered in mud, his leg burned with a fury he hadn’t known was possible, but he lived, he had escaped, he simply was. 

Tears ran down his face tracing tracks in the mud that covered him from head to toe and he let out a sob as everything he had been through bubbled up. But he reeled that all back, fingers gripping the grass, grounding him in the present. He pulled himself into a sitting position and saw that he was in a field, nothing around him. How far from the entrance had he traveled? But then he turned and a glint in the distance caught his eye. It was barely visible, but the ruby red called to him, beckoned him back to where his people were, where his home was, to Sev. They were there, far from where he currently was but close enough that he knew everything would be alright.

Slowly he reached up to his chest and his fingers gripped the smooth plastic of his radio. That wonderfully awful radio that had sentenced him to death with its silence but now beckoned life with its call as he pushed the button. 

“Sev,” he croaked, tears once again falling steadily down his face, “Sev, it’s me.”

He didn’t have to say anything more. The radio crackled to life and the sweet melody of Severide’s voice sang through the line. 

“Casey?” The question was soft, coated in disbelief and thick with sorrow. “Case, are you there?”

“I’m here.” And he was. He was here. He was back. He was alive.

“Oh my god,” Severide sobbed over the end and Casey’s hold on his emotions broke as his body shuddered and he clutched the radio firmly against his chest. 

“Matt, my love, I thought you were dead.” The words were nothing more than gasps, whispers of his grief and sadness, but they were tendrils connecting Casey to the one he loved more than anything else. 

“Sev,” he said, not capable of saying anything else.

“Where are you? We’re working as fast as we can but the cave-in is dense. Are you stuck? Are you hurt?”

“I can see the trucks. I’m in a field.”

The line was silent for a second before Severide’s voice returned, strength returned as awe overpowered his boyfriend. 

“What do you mean, Case? You’re not underground?”

“Grass is soft. The sun is warm on my face. Feels nice.”

“The field,” Severide said, something clicking in his boyfriend’s mind, and then his voice grew distant as he shouted in the background, “Chief! Casey’s on the surface, in the empty field over the mine!” Then he was back closer and Casey could tell he was moving. “I’m coming, Case. I’m coming.” 

And he did come, running like Casey had never seen. As soon as his boyfriend spotted him, he picked up speed and ended up tackling Casey to the ground as he enveloped him in a hug that Casey returned with as much vigour as Severide. They lay there, gripping each other like the second they came apart so would the world around them. And they both sobbed, bodies shuddering as the pain and grief they felt leached into the soil and back into the pits below where they belonged. 

Then Severide pulled back and clutched Casey’s face before he was kissing him, lips communicating everything Casey wanted to say without the need for words.

When he pulled back again, his blue eyes bright with emotion, he whispered, “are you okay?”

Casey brought his hand up to stroke Severide’s face, feeling that soft skin beneath his fingers. “I am now.”

Chapter Text

The snow squeaked beneath Casey’s feet as he got out of his truck, the freshly fallen layer that had shrouded Chicago in white that morning frozen in the super-freeze that was currently blasting its way through the Windy City. If he had heard correctly on the news this morning as he got ready for work, the warmest it was going to feel today was a scorching negative fifteen degrees with the wind chill. 

The second he had left for work, the hairs in his nose had frozen and his eyes watered as the wind ripped through his heavy winter gear. The one good thing about being a firefighter in Chicago during winter was that they wore their jackets, thinner than a standard winter jacket but still warm, beneath their turnout gear, keeping them nice and toasty as they did their job. Of course, they were also warm while they were inside the burning buildings, too warm, but Casey didn’t consider that a perk of the job for obvious reasons. People’s homes burning down was… not something you glamoured. 

Casey pulled his hat further over his ears, opening his back door to grab his duffel before he slammed it shut and locked his truck. He blew on his hands, rubbing them together, before he shoved them deep in his pocket and began walking toward the firehouse. He wasn’t sure what was going on today, but there had been no parking outside the firehouse and he had been forced to park a couple blocks away. And with his luck, it also had to feel like the arctic outside. What was it Severide said? That he could see penguins crying when the weather got like this? Casey smiled and picked up his pace, his legs starting to go numb in his jeans. He could have gotten a ride with his boyfriend that morning, he should have, since he had seen the darker-haired man’s car parked front and centre outside of 51, but he told Chief he would pick up a SCBA unit from the repair place before shift since it was finally ready and they had been waiting on it. It had, thankfully, fit in his bag, so his hands were saved from freezing like they would have if he had been carrying it. 

The blonde had walked almost to the end of the first block, enjoying the quiet morning, sun glistening off the snow, despite the intense cold, when he came up on an alley. He had walked by this alley many times before. It was nothing special. Narrow, trash lined, and smelling like the bottom of a porta-potty, Casey usually paid it no notice. There were tons of them all throughout Chicago. This morning was no different. He walked by, hands still in his pocket, head held high as he took the time to focus before shift, when pain exploded behind his right knee and he crumpled, falling to the side and hitting the ground hard, his hands trapped in his pockets. The intense adrenaline rush had him turning on his back and moving just in time to miss a second blow from what Casey could now see was a baseball bat. The bat cracked against the ground and Casey wasted no time in pulling his hands free, scrambling back as he tried to get a vantage into what was happening. Then there were hands on him, gripping the front of his jacket as they hauled him up, slamming him into the brick wall behind him. A knee came up and slammed into his abdomen and Casey doubled over with a wheeze, pain exploding like fireworks through his midsection. With nothing left to do, Casey pushed off the wall hard, kicking out with his right leg and sending the guy in front of him crashing to the ground. Casey tried to get a look at his face but he was wearing a black ski mask, a jacket covering his neck since the hood was up. Before Casey could react, searing pain shot through his jaw as a punch from his right blind sighted him. A third man was then in front of him and Casey rushed forward, trying to knock him off balance first, but the guy anticipated this and brought another knee up, slamming into Casey once again. He grunted, air disappearing from his lungs, but knew he wouldn't give up. He straightened and threw another punch, this one connecting solidly with the attacker and he felt a rush of satisfaction as the man let out a pained grunt. He punched again, hitting the man in the stomach, but then the guy Casey had pushed to the ground was back and they were double timing him, punching where they could before they slammed Casey back into the wall and he fell, barely able to brace himself on the ground with his arms. Then they started to kick him and Casey curled into a ball, trying to protect his ribs. He was outnumbered; he couldn’t fight back. Suddenly, they stepped back and Casey flipped onto his back, needing to be able to see them. The first guy, the one with the bat, stepped forward and stared down at Casey for a moment before he raised the bat over his head. Casey had just enough time to bring his hands up to block his face as the man swung. He almost screamed as the bat impacted his right hand, bones cracking on impact. He gripped his broken hand with his left, curling in on himself as he panted, wave after wave of rippling pain assaulting him from his hand, ribs, abdomen, and face. He barely felt as one of the men reached down and ripped his duffel off his shoulder before they ran off, leaving no trace of their presence except Casey’s battered and bruised body lying in the snow.

The cold seeped deep into his bones as he lay on the ground, but Casey didn’t have the strength to move. He breathed shallowly, breath misting in icy bursts above him, as he tried to process what had just happened. Mugged. He had been mugged in broad daylight! Just two blocks from the firehouse. After a minute of letting that information settle, Casey let his mind drift to the various injuries he had. The worst was his broken hand, throbbing deeply with every beat of his heart. His lip was split, blood oozing into his mouth, the bitter copper coating his tongue. His cheek was swollen, he could feel as much, and definitely bruised. He pulled in a long breath and was happy to note that while it ached like crazy, he didn’t think any ribs were broken. He wasn’t sure of the state of his abdomen where the attacker's knee had slammed into the soft flesh, but it also ached deeply. Finally, his right knee, where the bat had first hit him, felt a bit swollen in his jeans, the joint tight as he tentatively bent his leg, but he figured it was just a bad bruise since he could bend the joint fully. Overall, it could have been worse, but it could also be so much better. 

Casey knew he needed to get to the firehouse, get to Severide. He would help him, make the pain go away. His phone had been in his duffel along with his wallet and keys. He was stuck limping the rest of the way. 

It took him a moment to get to his feet, heavily supporting himself on the wall he had been slammed into multiple times. Then he set off, limping as ache in his knee intensified with any weight put on it. 

It seemed to take ages, Casey shuffling slowly along the icy sidewalk, right hand clutched close to his chest. When he finally made it to 51’s driveway, he almost cried out in relief. The garage doors were open and all the apparatuses were on the floor. Everyone was inside. Severide was inside. 

He limped up the driveway with speed he hadn’t been able to manage the whole way, new energy flooding him so close to his destination. He approached the familiar silver doors, the ones he had walked through thousands of times, and pushed them open with his left hand, limping the final steps into the firehouse. There were only a few people in the common room since it was well past breakfast. Kidd was up refilling her coffee, Mouch was, of course, on the couch, Otis was at the round table reading a magazine, Brett at the long table reading a book, and Gallo was behind the stove cleaning up from breakfast. As the doors banged open from Casey’s entrance, they all turned to look. There was a moment of stunned silence where they all just stared at one another and then the room flew into action. Kidd dropped her cup on the counter, coffee spilling onto the floor. Otis threw his magazine and stood up, his chair screeching across the floor. Brett, too, was on her feet, already making her way over to Casey’s hunched form. 

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” she asked as she gently placed her hands on his left arm, angling her head to see his face. She winced and brought her hand up to move his chin, angling his face toward the light so she could see better. Kidd came rushing over too, Otis and Mouch close behind. 

“What the hell…” Kidd breathed as she got a look at Casey up close, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Brett. 

“Get Severide,” Kidd said immediately, looking at Otis. He nodded and took off into the bunker room where they could hear him yelling Severide’s name even from out here. In less than a minute, Severide burst through the door on the left side of the room.

“What happened? Where is he?” He asked, looking around. Clearly Otis hadn't had time to explain and Casey’s form was blocked by Kidd, Brett and Mouch. 

The three of them stepped back to reveal Casey, hunched over, clutching his broken hand, and Severide’s eyes widened before he rushed over. 

“Hey, hey,” he said as he grabbed Casey by the upper arms, lowering him to the ground when the blonde’s legs crumpled. “Case,” he urged, placing a tender hand on his face, thumb barely brushing over the spot he had been hit. “What happened?”

“Mugged,” Casey whispered, lips wobbling and eyes betraying him as they grew hot and misty. He didn’t even know why he was crying. Everything hitting him at once, he guessed, the safety of being in Severide’s arms letting him be vulnerable.

“Outside the firehouse?” Severide asked, looking toward the apparatus floor as if it held the answers. 

“Couple blocks away. Couldn’t get a spot, had to walk.”

Severide’s eyes roamed over every inch of him, analyzing all the places his boyfriend was hurt. Most of Casey’s injuries, however, were hidden under his shirt. The only things visible were his hand and busted face. 

“Can I see?” His boyfriend asked gently, holding out a hand to let Casey know that the request was on the blonde’s terms and he wouldn’t force Casey to show him. But Casey trusted Severide completely. So he nodded and extended his hand, resting it gently in Severide’s palm.

His boyfriend hissed as he ran a ghost of a touch over the surface of the hand. It was obvious a few fingers were broken, purple and crooked as they were, but there was a lot of swelling to the main part of the hand too and Casey was sure more of the bones had fractured, maybe even broken completely when the bat smashed his hand. 

“What did this?” The question was calm, but Casey could hear how lethal it really was, cold and hard as the shards of ice that hung from 51s roof. 

“Bat,” he replied and Severide’s face darkened, blue eyes hardening into turquoise stones. 

“Who?” The one word could have cut steel. But Casey could only shake his head. He hadn’t been able to identify anything from the men. They had been fully covered. 

Severide nodded but then turned to Kidd. “Tell Boden what happened. Have him call CPD and tell them to meet me at Med. We are not letting these guys get away with this. Not on my watch.”

“Of course,” Kidd said and then left, making her way to Boden.

“Come on,” Severide said, much softer than before as he helped Casey stand. 

“He can go to Med on 61. I’ll get Foster.”

Severide nodded and supported Casey as they walked slowly across the apparatus floor. Brett was waiting for them at the back of the ambulance, stretcher ready for Casey, Foster in the front ready to drive. Severide helped Casey sit back, making sure the blonde was comfortable before he lifted the lower end of the stretcher up and into the ambulance. Brett hopped in first and then he followed. The doors shut behind him and Casey could see that it had been Otis who had shut them before he banged on the back and Foster started to drive. 

“We’ll find them, Case.” Severide reassured, hand gripping Casey’s left leg since it was one of the places he wasn’t hurt. Casey winced as Brett started an IV, but gave his boyfriend a small smile, as much as he could muster at the moment. 

“I know.” And he did. His boyfriend would stop at nothing until they were caught.

Chapter Text

Casey sighed as he took his first sip of coffee all morning, relishing in the savoury aroma, leaning back in his chair and taking a moment to let the caffeine kick in. Somehow, he and Severide had slept through their alarm that morning. Casey had woken up with a start, feeling like something was wrong. As he lay there, Severide’s deep and even breathing a soothing lull next to him, daring him to shut his eyes again, his eyes popped open as he realized what it was. The sun was shining brightly in their bedroom, the rays reflecting off the walls. It was bright, too bright. Casey had grabbed his phone off the nightstand, yanking it from the charger, and silently cursed as he saw the time. They were supposed to be at the firehouse in 20 minutes. 

He had jumped up, Severide still sleeping obliviously on his side of the bed, and made his way to the dresser, yanking off his sleep shirt and pants, his sleep-ridden brain trying to help him through the motions, but failing to. Clothes. He needed clothes. He pulled a crumpled shirt off the floor, yanking it over his head. It could be Severide’s, but that didn’t matter. It was a shirt. Next, he needed pants. But the sight of his sleeping boyfriend distracted him and he walked over to Severide’s side of the bed, yanking the covers completely off the Squad lieutenant. 

“What?” Severide asked as he sat up abruptly, eye shelf open and hair sticking in every direction. 

“We’re late!” Casey said as he went to go find pants. “Get dressed, Sev, we should have left already.”

Severide had jumped out of bed, doing the same clothes finding dance as Casey, and then they had been grabbing their bags, which they had thankfully packed the night before, and had rushed out the door.

So the coffee that Casey was currently enjoying was a much welcomed part of his morning. 

“Rough start to the day, Captain?” Herrmann asked and Casey opened his eyes to see that the engine Lieutenant had joined him at the table, a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him. 

Casey smiled slightly. “Something like that.”

“You going to get some grub? It’ll be cold soon.”

“Yeah, I will, I just want to finish this cup of coffee first.”

“Oh, it was that kind of morning. I know that all too well with a house full of kids.”

Casey chuckled slightly and took another sip of his coffee. It was doing exactly what it was supposed to. He could feel the fog of sleep lifting with each sip. 

Severide walked through the doors, nodding toward Casey.

“Hey, you expecting someone?”

Casey frowned. “No, I wasn’t, why?”

“There’s some guy outside. Says he’s looking for the ‘tall blonde firefighter’ that works here.” 

Casey quirked a brow, sharing a look with Herrmann who just shrugged as he took a bite of his bacon, and stood, setting his half drank coffee on the table. 

“Guess I better see what he wants.”

He and Severide walked out onto the apparatus floor and Casey really hoped it wasn’t someone he had angered during his alderman days. While he had been out of that life for a while, he still had the occasional person come to him with a complaint. He was not caffeinated enough for that kind of conversation. Regardless, Casey plastered a polite smile on his face as he approached the guy and cursed his luck as he saw the guy's face. He did not look happy. 

The anger on the guy’s face deepend as he looked Casey up and down, balling his hands into fists as he took a step forward. Casey didn’t like where this was heading. He felt Severide tense next to him, picking up on the weird vibe as well. Regardless, Casey stepped forward, hoping he could deescalate the situation before it got out of hand. 

“I heard you were looking for me. What can I do for you?” Casey asked as he stood about a foot away from the man. 

“You can stay the hell away from my wife!” The guy yelled and charged, leaving no room for Casey to react. The man swung, his fist connecting solidly with Casey’s face and the blonde went down. His back had only just hit the cold concrete floor when the guy was on top of him, straddling Casey as he punched him again and white hot pain shot through Casey’s mouth before a coppery tang coated his tongue. The guy went to punch again, Casey’s hands braced against his chest, trying to push him off, but suddenly he was yanked off of the Captain. The blonde watched as Severide slammed the guy to the floor, pushing him onto his stomach as he held his hands behind his back, a knee pressed to the guy’s spine. 

Casey scrambled to his feet, pressing a hand to his split lip. The guy wasn’t that strong, Severide easily pinning him to the ground, but he had surprised Casey and that had allowed him to get those two good punches in. He hissed as he palpated his cheek and left eye, where the guy had hit him first, and winced at the tenderness.

“You good Case?” Severide asked from his position on the ground. 

Casey nodded, wiping blood from his chin and spitting more out onto the ground. “Yeah,” he grunted, more embarrassed he let this guy get the hits in in the first place. 

Casey turned as the doors to the common room swung open and Cruz walked out.

“Call CPD!” Casey called and Cruz froze as he took in the scene. “This guy just attacked me.” 

Despite his confusion, Cruz nodded, pulling out his phone. 

Casey turned back around and walked over to where Severide was keeping the guy in place, even as he bucked and kicked, trying to get loose. 

“Hey, buddy, what’s your deal?” He asked as he crouched next to him, looking him in the face.

The guy bared his teeth, spit flying from his lips. “My deal is that you’re a dead man, firefighter! You fucked my wife! I’m not letting that go. Think you’re so tough as a firefighter, huh? Why don’t we go one on one. I’ll kick your ass anyday, finish what I started.”

Severide yanked on the guy's arms and the man hissed, head flying back as he pulled against Severide, but his boyfriend held tight. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Severide grunted as he pushed his knee into the guy’s back harder, getting him to stop moving. “Casey didn’t do anything with your wife. We don’t even know who you are.”

The man laughed bitterly. “Stop lying. I got direct intel that the guy who slept with my wife was a blonde firefighter who worked at firehouse 15. Got any defense against that, blondie?”

Casey narrowed his eyes at the guy before he shared an incredulous look with Severide. Was this guy serious?

“To start,” Casey said, annoyance plastering his voice, “this is firehouse 51. ” The guy froze and for the first time this whole interaction, the confidence that shined so brashly on his face, dimmed. “And secondly, that guy who has you pinned? Yeah, he’s my boyfriend. So, no, I don’t think I fucked your wife. Maybe get your facts straight before you go all guns blazing next time.” The guy paled and went completely still. For once he had nothing to say. 

Casey rolled his eyes and stood. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. He has left his delicious cup of coffee for this? 

The doors opened behind Casey again and he turned to see Boden and the rest of 51 come out of the doors.

“What’s this about one of my men being attacked?” Boden asked as he looked at the scene. 

“This is better than a telenovela, Chief,” Cruz said from where he was standing off to the side, phone tucked under his crossed arms as he watched the events unfold.

“The guy Severide has pinned down came here and clocked Casey in the face thinking Casey had sex with his wife. Turns out he got the wrong firefighter. He was looking for a blonde at 15,” Cruz explained as he laughed.

“Sorry, Captain,” Cruz said quickly, one arm outstretched as he saw Casey looking at him. “I don’t mean to laugh since you got hurt, but how much of an idiot do you need to be to not only assault a firefighter outside of a firehouse, but assault the wrong firefighter?” 

If Casey’s face didn’t throb, he might have smirked, but the pain outweighed the laugh factor at the moment. 

Brett suddenly appeared next to him, a square of gauze and an ice pack in hand. “Hold this to your lip to get the bleeding to stop and the ice pack to your eye. It’s already starting to bruise.” Casey nodded his thanks and did what she said. The ice felt good against his swelling eye, cooling the heat rushing through his face. 

Then, a CPD car came rolling up and Halstead got out. “What happened here?” He asked as he approached Severide, handcuffs already out.

“This moron thought it would be a good idea to attack a firefighter,” Severide said as he handed the guy over and finally got up. Halstead slapped the cuffs on him and yanked him to his feet. 

“Just out of nowhere?”

“Domestic dispute gone wrong,” Casey said, lowering the gauze. “Mistaken identity.” 

“You’re kidding,” Halstead said, raising his eyebrows. “You make a habit of attacking people you don’t even know?”

The guy said nothing so Halstead pulled him toward the car, opening the door and pushing him inside. 

Severide was next to him then, tipping Casey’s face back as he gently thumbed his split lip.

“He got you good,” he said, softly. Casey shrugged. 

“He got lucky. I haven't finished my coffee yet.” 

Severide rolled his eyes as he let go of Casey’s chin, but a soft smile tugged at his lips “Right, cause if you had, you would have blocked that punch right?”

“You’re damn right,” Casey said and Severide laughed lightly. Then his face sobered as he looked at Casey’s rapidly forming black eye. 

“You sure you’re okay? Looks like it hurts.”

“Yeah, but I’ve had worse.”

“What, like the time a beam fell on you and cracked your skull open? Cause I’m not sure you can put that on a list to compare since you almost died.”

Casey shot his boyfriend a look. “Sev, this is nothing. A couple days and I’m all good.”

Severide huffed out a breath so Casey leaned forward and kissed him softly, despite the sharp sting of pain in his lip.

“Hey,” Severide chastised, “don’t make that bleed again.”

“Oh, so you’re saying no more kissing until I’m fully better?”

“Well, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“That’s too bad. I was getting so many other ideas about things we could do instead.”

Severide’s eyes lit up. “Like what?”

“Not on shift,” Casey teased and pushed away to meet Halstead who was walking toward them, Boden joining them.

“I take it you’re wanting to press charges?” Halstead asked.

“Nah, it’s not that serious,” Casey said and while Halstead looked surprised, he just nodded.

“You sure about that Casey?” Boden asked and Casey nodded.

“I think a few hours in the holding cell should get the message across. But make sure the blonde at 15 knows he’s got a target on his back. We wouldn’t want any more surprises,” he said as he gestured to his face. 

Boden nodded. “If that’s what you want, then I’m okay with it.” 

“Thanks Halstead,” Casey said and the detective reached out to shake his hand. 

“Of course.”

Casey turned back toward the firehouse and made his way back inside. 

“Alright, show’s over,” Severide said to everyone who was standing on the apparatus floor and the small crowd dispersed. 

Casey went straight back to his coffee and sighed when he felt that it had gone cold. 

“Here, I’ll get you a fresh cup Case. Just keep icing your face.” 

Casey gave him a small half smile, one that didn’t tug at his lip and sat back in his chair. As he placed the ice pack back over his eye, one thought rattled around in his brain. I should have stayed in bed. 

Chapter Text

Casey sighed and squinted into the night, gripping his steering wheel tightly as he drove down the snow-covered road. Snow was falling delicately outside, the flakes landing on the windshield in crystalline geometrics before they melted from the intense heat Casey was blasting at the glass, trying to stop the ice from building up and obscuring his view that was already at low visibility. 

Driving in the snow was something Casey was used to, he grew up in Chicago after all, but this was not only driving in the snow, but on back roads at night, with snow actively falling. It was the epitome of dangerous driving. But he had also promised his boyfriend he would meet him at the cottage tonight. The blonde was seriously regretting his decision now though. Severide had driven up that morning when the roads weren’t as bad, but Casey had stayed behind, telling Severide he’d join him that night since he had promised Herrmann he would help him paint Molly’s. A promise he was also regretting. The job had taken longer than expected and was the reason Casey was driving in the dark.

Regardless of all the things he wished he had done, he was here now, and just had to push through. He made sure to go slow enough that he wouldn’t spin out, but not too slow since he needed to make sure he made it up the icy hills and didn’t get stuck in the deeper pockets of snow that formed on these unattended back roads. 

As he traveled down a particularly steep hill, he felt his back tires loose traction and immediately let go of the gas, his heart in his throat, as he let his truck straighten itself out. Any force on the gas, brakes, or steering wheel could spin him out in this situation. He let out a shaky breath as the road levelled out and so did his truck and he pressed the gas again, the truck maintaining its traction. That had been close- too close for his liking. 

As the seconds ticked by, his shoulders dropped as he relaxed. He flexed his stiff fingers on the steering wheel, a burst of happiness shooting through him as he saw the sign for the town Severide’s cottage was in. He was close now. About 5 miles to go. 

A dark shape jumped out of the forest to his right and Casey only had time to slam on the brakes before his truck hit it, the large shape flying over his hood and smashing his windshield. Casey’s head whipped back and connected with his head rest and then everything was spinning, his truck losing control on the slick road. He hit a large bump and then he was weightless, everything suspending in the air like the world hit pause before his truck impacted the ground, Casey’s head and body slamming into the side of the truck’s cabin before it was rolling, Casey’s world tumbling like a stone caught in the tide, and his world slammed into cold and dark nothingness. 

Cold numbness wrapped its icy fingers around Casey, every inch of him chilled down to the bone. That was the first thing he could feel as he came to. The next was the pain. The ache throughout his whole body, the steady throbbing of his head, and the sharp pulsating of his left knee. Why did everything hurt? He groaned as he opened his eyes, turning his stiff neck as he tried to get his bearings. He couldn’t see much. There were no lights on. The only thing illuminating his space was the unnaturally snow-bright sky. He blinked rapidly as he looked around and realized that something else was wrong. The world was upside down. No, he was upside down. Casey was still buckled into his seat, but the truck had landed on its roof causing him to dangle like a marionette. 

He couldn’t stay like this. He needed to move, to get help. He shifted his left leg, testing his knee, and while it hurt like hell, he could move it so he figured it wasn’t broken. Casey brought a hand up to his head next and hissed as he felt the lump that was growing there, his fingers coming away sticky and wet with blood. Overall, he made it out fairly unscathed considering his truck had launched into a ditch. 

With trembling hands, mostly numb from the cold, Casey found the belt buckle and pressed down, setting him free from the seat and causing him to crash onto the roof. He groaned as his battered body was jostled, but pushed the pain aside as he maneuvered in the small space, broken glass everywhere. The windshield was shattered and half hanging off, so he gave it a few more kicks with his good leg and it popped off completely giving him the perfect exit point. The blonde army crawled out of the hole, dragging his body through the cold snow, his hands burning as they were buried in the icy blanket, before he cleared the truck and pushed himself to his feet, only swaying for a second before the world stopped spinning. 

Casey’s heart clenched as he looked at his truck, or what used to be his truck. Now it was a hunk of twisted metal, dented and collapsed. But the truck had done its job. While it had caved in on itself, it had protected Casey inside, absorbing most of the impact of the crash. He was lucky to be alive. But now he needed to stay that way.

Casey hobbled to the passenger side of the truck, his knee burning with each step, and was relieved to see that the window was broken. He reached through, careful of the glass, and pulled out his coat that had been on the passenger seat and was now laying on the roof turned floor. He pulled it on, making sure to shake the glass out of it first, and zipped it up all the way. He had taken it off to drive, his car more than warm enough, but in the chilly night air it was desperately needed. Next he needed his duffel he had packed. Both his hat and gloves were inside and he would need to wear them if he didn’t want to die of hypothermia before he could be saved. And that was not how he was about to go out, especially since he had just survived a car crash. 

The back windows were intact so Casey hobbled toward the cab of his truck. He couldn’t access it since it was upside down, but as the truck had rolled it had thrown his stuff everywhere and it only took him a minute before he spotted his crowbar laying in the snow. 

Limping back over to the truck, he swung the crow bar at the window. The first two hits did nothing, but on the third, the glass shattered and Casey used the tool to push all the glass away. With it cleared, he spotted his bag and used the crowbar to reach it, pulling it out and setting it on the snow. He quickly unzipped the bag, finding his hat and pulling it on his head before he did the same with his gloves. He sighed in relief, breath misting in front of him. He was still cold, but these clothing items would help him retain more of his body heat and keep him alive longer in the elements. 

Now that he wasn’t in immediate danger of freezing to death, Casey stood and walked back over to the passenger side of the truck, peering inside as he looked for his phone. After a minute he spotted it laying near the shattered windshield and quickly went to retrieve it. As soon as he picked it up he cursed. The front of the phone was shattered and no matter how many times Casey pressed the power button, the phone never lit up. Great. Not only was he stranded, but he was stranded with a broken phone. 

He threw the useless object back into his truck and covered his face with his gloved hands. Think Casey. How are you going to get out of this? 

He lowered his hands and looked up toward the cloudy night sky, flakes of snow falling lightly, melting on his face. In a normal situation, it would take him an hour and a half to walk the five miles to the cabin, but this was far from normal. Not only was the road slick with snow and ice, he was also injured. 

But he also couldn’t stay here. He doubted any cars would be passing this late and with the weather conditions and he hadn’t told Severide a specific time he would arrive. Because of the weather, his boyfriend knew it would take him longer than normal to arrive so he wouldn’t be looking for him for a while. 

With that in mind, Casey started down the road, limping heavily and hands tucked deep into his pockets, his head tucked low into his jacket to keep as warm as he could. Looks like he was in for a long walk. 

Casey didn’t even think he had traveled half a mile in the hour or so he had been walking. With each step he slipped on the slick road and his good leg gave out, forcing him to put more weight on his bad leg to stop his fall. By now, his left knee felt double its normal size and was so stiff Casey could barely move it. But he kept going. Stopping meant death. He was barely keeping warm enough while moving, his fingers and toes had long since gone numb, and shivers wracked his body. But Casey kept going. 

He pushed his body beyond its limits, forcing it to move when all it did was scream at him to stop, to give in and let the cold consume him. He was tempted to listen, to just lay down and let mother nature claim him, but something in him told him to hang on. 

Minutes later, headlights approached on the horizon and some warmth flooded Casey’s body, his blood pumping a bit harder, his body becoming a bit lighter. Then the car was close, cresting the hill in front of Casey before it came to a stop. Casey brought his hands up to shield his eyes, the headlights blinding him. He couldn’t make out what kind of car it was.

A car door creaked open and then shut before footsteps crunched quickly in the snow. 

“Casey?!” The person said, running toward him now, and caught him just as Casey’s legs finally gave out, tugging his body close and lowering them both to the ground gently.

“Sev,” he whispered, lips cracked and dry from the bitter wind.

“What happened?” Severide asked, warm hands touching Casey’s ice cold cheeks, fingers inspecting the gash on Casey’s forehead. He was so numb that it didn’t even hurt. 

“Where’s your truck? And why are you bleeding?”

“S’in the ditch,” Casey said, lazily pointing a finger behind him. “Think I hit a deer or something. Big thing jumped out in front of me and then everything was spinning and I woke up upside down.”

“Come on, let’s get you in my car. It’s nice and warm,” Severide said, face pinched with worry, as he helped Casey stand and hobble over to the car. Sev opened the door and helped Casey inside. 

The blonde sighed in relief, sticking his gloved covered hands in front of the heating vents. Everything began to burn as his cold body started to warm up, but Casey didn’t care. The warmth was seeping into his bones, melting the ice that had formed on his joints and it was wonderful. 

Severide hopped into the driver’s seat and turned on the interior lights as his eyes roamed over Casey.

“How bad are you hurt?”

“Just my head and my left knee,” he replied, as he glanced down, immediately looking away from the swollen mass that was his left knee. 

“Okay, I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said as he turned off the lights and put the car in drive. The tires spun for a moment before they gained traction and they were off. 

“No…” he groaned. He just wanted to get to the cabin and go to bed.

“There’s no arguing here, Case. You hit your head, you’re probably hypothermic, and have you seen the size of your knee? You’re getting checked out.”

Casey huffed out a breath but didn’t complain further. At least the hospital would be warm. 

A few minutes passed before Casey spotted something further up the road. “Stop!” He yelled and Severide brought the car to a controlled stop in the snow. 

His boyfriend didn’t need to ask why Casey had yelled. In front of the car, illuminated in the headlights, was a buck-a dead buck. And off to the right was Casey’s mangled truck.

“Oh my god,” Severide said as he took in the carnage. “This is a lot worse than you made it seem, Case. You could have been killed!”

Casey shrugged. “But I wasn’t.” 

Severide shot him a look. “Oh, great. The next time someone almost dies I’ll make sure to remember that. ‘Everything’s okay because you didn’t die’.” 

Casey’s lips pinched as he stared at his boyfriend, but he knew Severide was just scared and worried. Hell, the crash had scared him , the way he had spun out of control before flipping. He was sure he’d relive that moment for a while.

“Can you move it?” He asked and Severide turned to look at him, his face scrunched in confusion. 

“Move what?”

“The buck.”

“Why would I do that? I’m trying to bring you to the hospital. Besides, It’s dead.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “I can see that. It smashed into me going 35, I know it’s dead. I meant move it so that no one else hits it. It’s in the middle of the road and it's snowing. It’s hard to see.”

Severide just stared at him for a moment before he sat back and opened the door muttering, “Captain Casey, looking out for others even when he was just moments from death.”

His boyfriend shut the door and Casey watched as he grabbed the antlers and pulled, slipping on the icy road and struggling with the animal before he was able to get some traction and pull it off the road and to the side where Casey’s truck was. Then he jogged back to the car, wiping his hands on his pants. 

“Can I take you to the hospital now?” He asked as he slid into his seat, the guise of annoyance on his face but Casey could see the underlying pride in his eyes along with the worry that still lined his face. 

Casey nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

Severide put the car in drive again, shaking his head. They drove in silence for a bit before Severide said, “You scared me, Case. When you didn’t show and weren’t answering your phone I feared the worst. And then I saw you in the road and…” he trailed off and took in a shaky breath. Casey reached over and placed a hand on Severide’s leg.

“I know. I scared me too. I thought I was dead out there. But then you came and saved me.” 

“You're damn right,” Severide said, voice gruff. “Oh, and by the way, next time you’re driving with me.”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

Kidd slowed the Truck to a stop, air brakes hissing, before 81 jumped out, placing their helmets on their head as they grabbed their tools. 

61, Squad and Engine had arrived just before them and were milling about the scene, prepping hose lines and getting ready to enter the burning house. 

As soon as Casey’s boots hit the ground he made his way over to where Severide was standing next to Boden.

“What do we got, Chief?”

“Two story house with a basement. Homeowner is an older gentleman,” Boden said, gesturing over to the left where the man was currently being tended to by Brett and Foster. “He got out before the fire got bad, but says his wife is still inside. Not sure where exactly, but he thinks she might have been doing laundry in the basement.” Boden turned toward Severide. “I want you and Casey to sweep the basement. Have Squad search the main floor,” 81 takes the main floor.”

Casey and Severide nodded. “On it Chief.” 

Then he and Severide were moving toward the house. “Alright, 51 listen up!” Casey called. “Squad you’re on the top floor, 81 you’re on main. Me and Severide will do a sweep of the basement. Herrmann, get a line on this fire, beat it back so we can do the search.”

“Copy Captain!”

He and Severide stopped at the front door, taking a knee to pull their SCBA masks on as Herrmann approached, line in hand and Ritter in tow, Squad and 81 joining them for the search.

Casey turned, doing a quick sweep of his team, keeping track of who was going into the fire, and made eye contact with the homeowner who was sitting on the stretcher, oxygen mask on his face, watching them. A chill went down Casey’s spine as he noticed the man was smiling. A full grin splitting his face, his gaze narrowed on Casey. But then Casey blinked and it was gone, the man’s face turned away. What the hell was that? 

He turned back around, sliding his mask over his face, unnerved. He suddenly had a bad feeling about this fire.

“Hey, you okay?” Severide asked and Casey realized he had frozen in place, staring at the ground. He shook the feeling off and gave Severide a quick smile and nod before moving to the front behind Herrmann. 

When all of them were suited up, Herrmann kicked open the door and began spraying the hose, Ritter, behind him, as they beat back the roaring flames. Casey was next inside followed quickly by Severide. 

“Remember, do a quick sweep, locate the victim, and get out. This place doesn’t have much time,” Casey shouted as he scanned the walls, the fire crawling up them in a way that meant trouble. Once it hit the roof, the whole house could collapse and no one wanted to be inside when that happened. Casey would know since he had already had a beam fall on him once in his career- and once was more than enough. 

Squad and 81 nodded and began their search while Casey and Severide moved toward the back of the house where the basement door was. 

“Ready?” Severide asked and Casey nodded. Bracing themselves, Severide opened the basement door and they both ducked as fire and smoke poured out in a wave of heat and darkness.

“Fire department, call out!” Severide yelled as they stood at the top of the stairs. The basement was full of dark smoke. They couldn't see anything from this vantage point; they would have to go down. 

With no response, Casey started down the stairs, Severide right behind him. When he reached the bottom, he got low, trying to see through the smoke, but it was basically impossible.

“Fire department, call out!” Casey yelled but they were, again, met with silence. 

“Why is the smoke so dark?” Casey asked as he turned toward Severide. He almost couldn’t see his boyfriend and he was only two feet from him. While normally dark, this smoke was a weird gray and dense in a way Casey had never seen. 

“I have no idea, but I don’t like it.” Severide replied and that sinking feeling in Casey’s gut returned, the smile on the old man’s face flashing in his mind. Something was wrong. But his wife was trapped somewhere in the house and they needed to find her, so he focused on doing his job. He could get to the bottom of things later. 

They both started moving through the thick smoke, Severide taking the left side of the room and Casey the right. 

He had only taken a few steps, calling out again, hoping to hear a response, when Casey stepped on something and heard a metallic click before a snapping noise pierced the air followed by a loud crunch and the worst pain Casey had ever felt erupted in his right leg. He immediately collapsed to the ground with a scream as he clutched his leg. It felt like someone was clawing through his skin with their nails, ripping flesh, muscles, and bones. Casey thought that stepping in a bucket of acid would hurt less than the agony that rippled through his leg and foot.

He panted, tears leaking from his eyes, as his fingers clutched his turnout pants. There was something stuck to his foot, with each movement of his body the thing dug deeper, causing him to groan loudly. He wanted the pain to stop, needed it to stop. 

“Casey!” Severide shouted and then he was next to him, sliding to his knees as he placed his hands on Casey’s chest.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” 

Casey cried out as he tossed his head back, his helmeted head hitting the ground with a dull thud as he writhed in pain. “My leg-” he choked out, teeth gritted so hard they ground together, the sound vibrating in his skull. 

“What about-” Severide stopped short as he looked to Casey’s right leg. Then he reached up and turned the flashlight of his helmet on, shining it where Casey was certain his leg had been cut in half. The pain was too bad for it to be anything else and he could feel the hot blood pouring from wherever he had been injured.

“Oh my god,” Severide said as he leaned closer before he turned to look Casey in the eyes. Even in his pain-ridden state, Casey could see that Severide was rattled. 

“Case, your leg. There’s a bear trap on it.” 

Casey froze, breath coming out in sporadic bursts, as he stared at his boyfriend. Surely he hadn’t heard him right. 

“What?” He panted.

“A fucking beartrap. It’s clamped above your ankle. I can’t see how deep, but it looks bad, Case. I need to try and stop the bleeding.” 

Severide moved quickly, grabbing a rope attached to his gear before he wrapped it above Casey’s knee, tying it tight and making a tourniquet. 

Casey cried out in pain as the movement jostled his leg, the metal spikes of the trap digging deeper into his flesh and grinding against the bone. The pain radiated all the way into his teeth, setting him on edge and lighting his body on fire. 

“Fuck, sorry Case. I’m so sorry, but I need to stop the bleeding. I think the trap cut an artery.”

“S’okay,” he grunted, hands twisting the material of his turnout pants tightly. 

After a moment, things settled down and Casey felt the blood gushing from the wound slow, as well as a much welcome numbness spreading through his leg as the tourniquet pressed on the nerves. He knew it couldn’t stay on for long, the risk of permanent damage high with tourniquets, but the relief it gave him allowed him to think and for that he was grateful. 

A bear trap. What the hell had a bear trap, a set bear trap, been doing in the basement? But Casey’s blood went cold as he remembered the look on the old man’s face and everything began to make sense. 

“Sev- it was a trap. For us. The homeowner, he set this up.” 

Severide looked at him like he was crazy-which, to be fair, he did sound crazy. But he also knew what he saw. 

“The old guy, he smiled at me right before we went in. I thought it was weird, but I just brushed it off.” He paused for a moment as he racked his brain, trying to decipher what was going on. Then he flashed back to what Boden said about the wife.

“The wife! Boden said the homeowner mentioned that she was in the basement. Well, she’s definitely not down here, but this was. And the smoke, it’s not normal. Think about it, Sev. He wanted us down here.”

Severide stared at him, eyes searching the blonde’s face, probably trying to determine where the pain and blood loss was causing him to lose it, but he must have seen how serious he was because he reached up and pressed his radio. 

“Anyone find the wife?” He asked, maintaining his eye contact with Casey. 

“Nothing on the top floor, Lieutenant,” Cruz answered back. 

“Same with the main floor,” Kidd supplied. “You guys find anything in the basement?”

Severide’s face darkened and Casey knew that he had been right about the old man. This place was a trap for firefighters.

“Everyone, out now!” Severide called over the radio. “There’s no victim!”

Casey could tell 51 was confused by that revelation, the static silence of the radio as they processed Severide’s sudden request, but they didn’t argue with the command. 

With their teams leaving, Severide turned to Casey. “We need to go. Who knows what else is in this house. I’m going to have to carry you out of here. It’s going to hurt like hell, but just hold on, okay?”

Casey nodded and took in a couple of deep breaths, readying himself for the pain. Without wasting time, Severide grabbed his arms, placing them over his shoulder and on his back and then hefted Casey into a fireman’s carry. The blonde gripped his boyfriend’s turnout coat, crying out as his leg was jostled and white hot fury burned through the limb. Severide moved quickly, getting them up the stairs and into the main part of the house where Casey could hear Herrmann and Ritter were still beating back the flames. 

“Get out!” Severide called as he approached them. 

The water stopped and Casey heard Herrmann ask, “what the hell?” but Severide just kept moving, telling them to get going and Casey heard their boots clunk on the floor as they all made their way out the front door. 

Severide kept walking until they passed the house’s boundary and back to the street where the rigs were parked. Then he stopped, placing Casey as gently as he could on the ground since 61 was still the only ambulance on the scene and the old man was occupying the gurney. 

Severide ripped his mask off before he pulled Casey’s off too and the blonde got the first look at the trap on his leg. The steel trap was huge, its metal jaws clamped firmly above Casey’s ankle, cutting through his leg like butter. It hadn’t clamped all the way through, though. His boot has probably saved his leg, the thick leather designed to withstand even the hottest of fires had stopped the teeth from clamping down as hard as they could. So while it hurt like hell and the teeth were embedded deep, he at least still had a leg. He started to feel nauseous looking at the limb so he looked away, releasing a breath. The pain was still excruciating, but with the former bloodloss and the tourniquet, it was now at a level where he didn’t want to scream with each breath he took. 

Brett came running toward them, jump bag in hand. Boden joined them too, his face slack with shock, something Casey had never seen.

“Oh my god, what happened? ” Brett asked as she examined Casey’s leg, eyes wide and face pale. 

Severide stood and turned toward Boden. “That homeowner-there’s something going on with him. That trap was set at the bottom of the basement stairs but we couldn’t see it because the basement was filled with dark smoke. I’ve never seen anything like it. And there was no victim inside.” Severide paused, his face hardening. “Chief, I think he set that fire and set that trap, making us think there was a victim inside when there wasn’t. He was the one that brought up the basement right?” 

Boden crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at Casey before he looked over to where the old man was sitting. “Yes he did. I think I’ll give CPD a call.”

“Cruz!” Severide suddenly called as the squad member walked by. “Don’t let that guy out of your sight,” he said, motoning to the old guy. Cruz looked confused but nodded and made his way over to 61. 

Then Severide was kneeling before Casey again. “How are you doing Case?”

“Been better,” he said, trying to smile but it came out as more of a grimace. Brett had set up an IV line with saline and pain killers and had wrapped the trap in gauze so it wouldn’t move, but due to the severity of the injury it couldn’t be taken off until he was at the hospital.

Severide winced and gripped Casey’s hand. “You’re doing so good, Case. Just hang in there.” He turned to Brett. “Where’s the other ambulance?” 

“Almost here,” she said as she tapped Casey’s IV down. “We called when we thought there was a second victim.”

Things became fuzzy after that, the pain, blood loss, and pain killers all fighting against Casey’s cognitive function. He felt himself being loaded up on a gurney and brought into the ambulance, Severide by his side the whole time. He lost a chunk of time after that, the next thing he knew he was in the hospital, nurses swarming him, stripping him off his gear and whizzing around like bees in a hive. Then things went dark again and time became something else entirely. He was floating in fuzzy darkness, his mind and body disjointed, before things slowly started to take shape and he realized that he was laying in a bed, a soft beeping filling the air.

Casey cracked his eyes open and blinked as he looked around. He was in a hospital room and it was dark, the room quiet save for the beeping and the soft sound of breathing. He looked to his left and smiled when he saw Severide passed out in a chair, head tipped back but one of his hands clutched firmly in Casey’s. His movement pulled on the hand and Severide jerked upright, wiping a hand over his face but pausing when he saw that Casey was watching him.

“Hey,” he said softly, voice thick with sleep as he smiled at his boyfriend. “How do you feel? Are you in any pain?”

Casey sighed and leaned back against the pillows. How did he feel? His body was pleasantly numb and so was his leg- his leg! He sat up, the beeping increasing as his heart rate picked up, and looked at his heavily bandaged foot. Foot- that meant he still had it? 

“Hey, easy, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Severide soothed as he stood and pushed Casey back gently before he ran a hand through Casey’s hair to calm him. “Everything went well with the surgery. They got the trap off and had one of the best plastic surgeons put your leg back together. You’ll have one hell of a scar and you’re going to need a lot of physical therapy before you can go back to work, but the doctors are extremely optimistic that you will be able to return to work,” Severide reassured, knowing Casey well. 

Casey released a shaky breath and nodded. That was good. Then a thought struck him.

“What happened with the homeowner?”

Severide sank back into his chair heavily, running a hand over his tired face. “Guy was a whack job. Turns out he has this thing about firefighters. His wife died in a fire about ten years ago and he blamed the fire department. Then a week ago he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Figures, what the hell, I’m already going to die, why not bring the people I hate with me?” Severide crossed his arms over his chest, face dark with anger. “He placed the trap in the basement, threw some smoke grenades down there, and then set his house on fire to try and bring down as many firefighters as he could. He had explosives in the wall. Just as we were leaving in the ambulance the house exploded.”

Casey could barely wrap his mind around any of this. Who thought like this? Made their house into a trap with the specific intent of killing as many people as you could?

“Why even bother with the bear trap if he was planning on blowing us up?”

“His wife was trapped in that fire that killed her. There was nothing the firefighters could do, but this guy didn’t care. Said he wanted one of the firefighters to die like she did,” Severide bit out, voice like venom.

Casey blinked. “That is some sick shit,” was the only thing he could think to say. 

“You’re telling me. You could have lost your leg because of him!”

“Yeah and we could have been blown up, ” Casey reminded him since that seemed a bit more prevalent than his leg. Thank god they had ordered everyone out. 

“How did you find all of this out anyway?”

Severide snorted. “The homeowner confessed. CPD didn’t even have to press him. He seemed happy to confess.”

Casey sneered, feeling a bit sick. How could people like that exist? Sometimes Casey was amazed at how terrible people could really be.

Severide leaned forward and grabbed his hands. “But forget him. I’m just glad that you’re okay. When you screamed, I had no idea what had happened, I just knew it was bad.” 

Casey squeezed Severide’s hands. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You never have to thank me for that.” Severide leaned forward and kissed him softly. Casey leaned into it, placing his hands on Sev’s head, running his fingers through his hair as he inhaled his boyfriend's scent. And in that moment he forgot all about the bad in the world, what people were capable of, and focused on the way he felt in Severide’s arms and he knew that they would be okay. 

Chapter Text

It was going on to the fourth day that Casey hadn’t slept. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but every time he laid in bed next to Severide, his boyfriend would drift to sleep, his breathing becoming slow and steady, while Casey remained awake. Nothing he did helped. He tried to read, melatonin, foods that were supposed to make you sleepy, hell, he had even laid there counting sheep, desperate to fall asleep, and still nothing. 

It was currently night three of no sleep and Casey was sitting on the couch, staring at the wall, as he watched the sun slowly rise, illuminating the space around him. They had to go to shift today and still Casey had not slept. He felt bone tired, body weary and sluggish, mind working as well as cogs covered in grit, but still he could not sleep. He should call off shift, after all a tired firefighter could be a dead firefighter, but he thought that being on shift might make him tired enough to actually sleep and he was desperate for it.

The blonde was up making coffee when Severide walked out of the room.

“You didn’t sleep again?” Severide asked, taking the cup Casey handed to him.

Casey just shrugged. He didn’t want Severide to know how bad it was. 

“You look exhausted, Case. Call off shift, try and get some rest.”

“No, I want to go. It’ll be good to work.”

Severide eyed him warily but didn’t say anything. 

At the firehouse, Casey tried to go about his day as normal, but he was currently sitting in his office just staring at the paperwork in front of him. The words didn’t mean anything to him at the moment, just a sea of swirling letters with no meaning. He threw his pen down and rested his face in his hands. He was so tired. But sleep still evaded him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there like that. Time had lost all meaning, the days going by both quick and slow as he waded through the fog, just trying to keep going. His thoughts didn’t make sense, the world around him was warped, shadowed, wrong. He was wrong. Some part of him told him he should tell Severide how bad it was, get some professional help, but that part of him was shaded by exhaustion, his thoughts twisted in his mind. If he went for help, they wouldn’t let him work. They might even suspend him and he couldn’t have that. Without his work, who was he? What did he have? He would be alone with his thoughts, just him and the spinning in his brain, the shadows that lurked around every corner.

The bells went off above Casey and he jumped, hands flying to his desk as he looked around, heart pounding. What was happening? Everything was distortion and noise, shapes made no sense. 

His door opened and Severide popped his head in, brow furrowed.

“Casey! What are you doing? We have a call,” he said as he stared down the blonde.

They had a call? It took a second and then his brain slammed into gear and things sharpened a bit at the edge. A call. He was at the firehouse, on shift.

“Right. I’m coming,” he said as he stood and brushed past Severide.

“Hey, Case, are you sure you’re okay? You seem off,” Severide said as he caught up with Casey and they rounded the corner. Casey’s adrenaline had started flowing, clearing some of the cobwebs from his mind. It was easier to think.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just daydreaming back there.”

He flashed a quick smile toward his boyfriend, trying to reassure him, and then made his way to 81, slipping into his turnout pants before he climbed into his seat. 

Things didn’t worsen as they drove to the call, but they didn’t get better either. Despite the fact that he was more aware, Casey still felt like he was shrouded in cobwebs, a veil covering his body and mind and preventing him from fully being present. He tried his best to shake it off before they arrived. He was 51’s Captain. He needed to be in control, needed to be a leader. 

When they arrived, Casey jumped out and made his way over to the accident they had been called to. A car had slammed into the back of a garbage truck and now the victims inside were pinned, the car almost a full third under the back of the truck. It was an easy enough rescue. They needed to extract the victims, monitor the car in case it went up in flames, and then secure the scene for cleanup once the victims were safe. 

Squad arrived and Casey barked out orders, telling Severide to get the jaws and for his team to get 81 access so they could blackboard and c-collar the victims and bring them to 61 and the additional ambulance that had been called. With Squad and a few of his team from 81 jumping into action, Casey turned toward Mouch and Otis.

“I need you two on traffic duty. Set up this far lane and alternate the traffic so people can get through.”

“On it Captain,” they said and went in opposite directions to start getting people through. Casey stood back and watched the scene, in charge since Boden wasn’t there, but found his mind wandering, the scene turning into a blur of shapes and bodies that didn’t mean anything. What was he doing? Who had he ordered to do what? He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to think, but his mind was a wall of noise pinging in every direction. 

When he reopened his eyes, Casey didn’t recognize anything in front of him. Things had shifted, people in different places, objects not where they were before. He didn’t know what to do, where to go. 

An image flashed in his mind, a line of cars, an empty road. Was that important? He felt it was. Suddenly he knew he needed to do something with these cars, that it was of the utmost importance. The blonde turned, stumbling almost drunkenly, but he didn’t notice as he walked forward, eyes fixed on the road in front of him. This is where he needed to be. This would give him the answers he was looking for. 

There was a brief moment when he stepped into the lane where he felt satisfied, that this was what he needed to be doing, where he was supposed to be, but then someone shouted something he couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand. He turned his head at the same moment something impacted his right side and then he was flying, his body as weightless as his mind felt, before he crashed back down, glass shattering, his body crumpling, before he was thrown to the side and smashed into the ground with bone-rattling force. 

Casey lay there, on his back, and just stared at the cloudy sky. He couldn’t hear anything except for a high-pitched ringing in his ears, the only feeling was his lungs rising and falling and the quick tempo of his heart. There wasn’t any pain. Why wasn't there pain? He still wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he knew enough that it should hurt. 

Faces were suddenly in his field of view, mouths moving, hands touching him, but Casey felt detached, like he was just watching this happen. Then he appeared, bright blue eyes piercing the fog Casey was wrapped in and like a switch being flicked, the world came alive. 

Sound roared into Casey’s ears, shouts, metal crunching, machines whirring, cars honking, it all assaulted Casey in wave after wave. Then, the pain. His body lit up like a Christmas tree, each injury making itself known. His head hurt, sticky warmth running down his neck and pooling on his collar. His ribs ached with each breath. But his leg drew most of his attention. It felt like someone was stabbing him, twisting the knife and making all the nerve endings scream. Casey groaned and tried to move, still not understanding where he was or what had happened, but trying to get away from the pain.

Hands pressed him back down, gentle but firm. 

“No, don’t move Case. You could have a spinal injury.”

Casey stilled as the voice soothed the ragged part of his mind. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, but this voice, the person it belonged to, they would keep him safe. 

The hands were back on him and then something was wrapped around his neck, immobilizing it and causing panic to spark through Casey. He tried to grip the thing around his neck but then those hands were gripping him, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand in a way that was so familiar.

“It’s okay, Case. Everything is okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” the voice soothed and Casey knew the person was being honest. He let his body go lax, shutting his eyes as he was moved on his side, multiple hands gripping him now, and placed on something hard.

Eyelids heavy, Casey didn’t have the strength to open them again. A heavy feeling settled over him, a tide that he couldn’t escape from. But he wasn’t scared. Those hands were still on him, gripping his own tightly and Casey knew he was safe. And then the world faded to black. 

- - - - 

Returning to wakefulness had never felt as impossible as it did now. Casey was wrapped in a thick web of sleep, a warmth that sunk deep into his bones and begged him to stay, tempted him with wild dreams and called to him like a siren. He wanted to return, to go back to where everything was silent and still, but there was a part of him that yelled, begging him to open his eyes, join the world around him. It was those hands, the tingling feeling that lit up his skin when they brushed any part of him, the rush of emotions that followed, the drumming of his heart that beat in a song just for them. The blue eyes. A kind smile. 

Casey sucked in a breath as he opened his eyes, one thought in his mind. Sev. 

Like he had been summoned, his boyfriend was there. Hands gripping Casey’s, eyes tired but bright, stubble speckling his jaw.

“Sev,” he croaked, voice hoarse with disuse. His boyfriend smiled.

“Hey, Case,” he said softly, that thumb stroking his hand, just like-

Casey froze as a rush of memories played in his mind like a movie tape out of control. He got flashes of the past few days, warped and disorienting, and then he was back on the scene. The car crash, 51 hard at work, and then a kaleidoscope of images. A red car, the sky as he was airborne, fractured glass, and then Sev, his blue eyes hovering above him as Casey laid on the ground.

“What happened?” He asked, frightened by the disorganization of his mind. It felt like someone had placed all the information in there and then shaken his head, scrambling the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle he had to put back together. But pieces were missing.  

“You were hit by a car,” Severide said as his eyes roamed over Casey’s face, concern and worry etched into his gaze. “Do you remember anything?”

“Pieces, but it’s all so confusing. I remember walking toward the road, but I have no idea why.”

“Mouch and Otis said you just stepped into the road like you were in a trance. The car they had just waved through didn’t have any time to stop before they hit you.”

Severide’s eyes brightened with emotion. “I had just cut through the door on the car and when I looked up I saw you go flying. I thought my heart stopped when I saw you lying on the ground, so still…”

He sucked in a breath and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “You were so confused. You kept saying things but they didn’t make any sense. The doctors told me that you were suffering from late-stage sleep deprivation.”

Severide’s face hardened, anger shadowing his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me the insomnia was that bad? You could have died. You could have gotten someone killed! You were in no state to be at work Matt!”  

Casey swallowed as he stared at Severide, fingers curling around the hospital blanket. The truth was he didn’t know why. After the second night of no sleep, things began to grow fuzzy, his thinking muddled. But what he had done was reckless. He had been in charge of that accident scene yet he could barely remember how he got to work that morning. 

Tears burned his eyes and he tried to blink them away but failed, hot tears falling down his face. Severide reached over and brushed them away.

“I don’t know, Sev. I really don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t think. I was trapped…”

A sob escaped him and Severide pulled him into his chest as he cried, arms wrapped around him and hands rubbing up and down his back.

“It’s okay, Case. I was just so scared. You could have been killed.”

They stayed that way for a long moment until Casey calmed down and pulled back, wiping his hands roughly over his face as he sniffed. 

“It’ll never happen again. I won’t let it get that bad.”

Severide nodded. “I know.”

Casey sank back into the pillows. “So how bad is it?”

“Not terrible, all things considered although you’ve been out for two days.”

“Two days?”

“Doctors said that was normal. With the amount of sleep you lost, it could take up to a month until you're fully back to normal. You have to build back into a normal rhythm. Which makes what I’m going to say easier since you’ll be off for the next two months anyway.”

“What? Why?”

Severide pointed to Casey’s right leg and things clicked into place. He had a cast from above his knee down to his toes.

“It didn't need surgery but it was still a bad break. You also cracked a few ribs and have a minor concussion, so rest is exactly what you need.”

Casey sighed. “Does Boden know?”

“Yup. And he also knows that I’ll be off with you the entire time.”

“You don’t need to do that, Sev. I’ll be okay on my own.”

Severide leaned forward as he looked Casey in the eyes. “Not happening. Me and you are going to do this together. The doctors said your insomnia could have been brought on by stress. You’ve had a lot going on with your promotion and everything else. So, me and you will be spending the next two months at the cabin. Just me, you, and nature.”

Casey smiled. That did sound nice. And he had been more stressed lately with his Captain duties. 

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Two months later, Casey had never felt better, both physically and mentally. He and Severide had done exactly as his boyfriend said and taken the time with just themselves and nature. His cast had come off just a few days ago and he was already getting his strength back in it and he and Severide walked every day, enjoying the forested landscape. When it was time to return home, Casey had never felt as ready to go back to work as he did now. Mentally, physically, he was honed in on the job, ready to pick up where he left off and he had his boyfriend to thank for that.

Chapter Text

It had seemed so insignificant in the moment. Casey had been walking through the warehouse, crouched low, arms out, as he navigated in the near-black conditions. The only light came from the flames that roared, hot and high, their fiery tendrils clutching onto everything in its path. The smoke was thick, full of poison, since this warehouse housed all kinds of cotton products, and when certain cottons burned, like in this case, it released hydrogen cyanide which was deadly when inhaled. 

That wasn’t the issue though. As long as they followed protocols they would be okay. When Casey was finishing the last of his sweep, however, he failed to notice a sharp corner on a broken metal shelf and as he turned, the metal caught his side, cutting through his turnout coat and stabbing him. He hissed and jumped back, palming his side where it had stabbed him. He couldn’t see much given the current circumstances, but he didn’t think it was too bad. So he dropped his hand and pushed that aside. There were victims that needed saving.

Back outside, the building cleared and 51, amongst other engine companies, battling the blaze, Casey drained a bottle of water. When he had his fill, he poured the rest of the cool water over his face and head, cleaning some of the soot that clung to him, before he rubbed his hands through his hair. Then he sat back against 81’s bumper as he stretched, exposing his side and palming his injury once again. He sucked in a breath as his fingers made contact with the wound, coming back bloody. 

Severide, of course, chose this moment to walk over. It was like his boyfriend had a sixth sense when it came to this sort of thing. Casey didn’t even bother hiding the injury. 

“Whoa. What happened, Case?” Severide asked as he spotted the blood on his fingers as he stood in front of Casey. Before the blonde could say anything, his boyfriend noticed the rip in his jacket.

Severide unzipped his gear and pulled his coat off before he pulled Casey’s blood stained shirt up to expose the wound. Casey looked down and saw that it was a gash, about 5 or 6 inches long, but it didn’t appear that deep. And the blood was only trickling from it now.

Severide pressed his warm fingers around the edges of the wound as he inspected it further earning a wince from Casey.  “How’d this happen?” 

“Metal shelf. I didn’t see it through the smoke. It must have had a sharp edge.”

His boyfriend dropped his shirt. “I’d say. It went through your turnout coat. You’re lucky it didn’t go further than it did. You going to get it checked out?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Casey admitted and his boyfriend narrowed his eyes.

“Why not? 61’s still here. Just ask Brett to take a look. It could need stitches.”

“They’ve got real victims to look after. I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

Severide didn’t seem impressed with that answer. But Casey held true and when his boyfriend knew that he wouldn’t budge on that, he turned and left without another word. Figuring Severide was just annoyed with him, Casey went back to wrapping up things for the call. He checked his gear, made sure nothing was broken, and was about to put his ruined turnout coat into the truck when Severide returned, Kidd in tow.

“Heard you got into it with a metal shelf,” she said on approach, a small smile on her face.

Casey paused and shot Severide a look but his boyfriend merely shrugged, feigning innocence. 

Casey threw the jacket inside and shut the door. “I did, but I’m fine.” He started walking away but Severide grabbed his arm.

“You’re going to let her check you out,” he said as he pulled Casey back toward them. The Captain just sighed, knowing that his boyfriend wouldn’t drop it.

“Fine.”

Kidd jogged over to one of the compartments on Truck and pulled out the jump bag they carried for when they were first on scene and someone needed immediate medical attention. Severide walked them over to the back of Truck and pushed Casey back onto the bumper, the blonde just going with the motions despite not thinking any of this was necessary. 

Then Kidd joined them, gloves on her hands, and placed the jump bag next to Casey. She lifted his shirt and examined the wound as Severide had and then rummaged in the bag. 

“It doesn’t look too bad. It’s deepest in the middle, but as long as you make sure you’re careful, it won’t need stitches. I’m going to flush it out and place some gauze on it but I suggest you do a more thorough cleaning back at the firehouse. Who knows what was on the metal.”

Casey nodded and then shot his boyfriend an I told you so look but Severide just ignored him. Stubborn boyfriends. 

Casey had all the intentions to follow Kidd’s advice, but once they were back at 51 he went from being swamped in paperwork to more calls and then it was the next morning and they were getting ready to leave shift. 

When he and Severide got home, Casey began to feel an ache in his side and it was only then that he realized he hadn’t done anything with the wound since Kidd had patched him up on scene. 

Slipping into the bathroom, Casey locked the door and made his way to the sink where he took off his shirt and then peeled back the gauze taped to his side. He winced when he saw the cut, the edges crusted together with dry blood and the whole area an angry shade of red. He picked up a washcloth and soaked it in warm water before he tried his best to clean the wound. In the process it reopened and began bleeding again, but Casey took the opportunity to wash the wound with mild soap. It stung like hell and he made a mess, blood and soapy water getting all over the sink and floor, but he was satisfied with the job. He dried the area before he tapped a new piece of gauze over it, him and Severide having a full first aid kit in their bathroom since their job meant frequent injuries, the centre turning red from where it was still bleeding slightly, and then put his shirt back on before he cleaned the bathroom, leaving no trace of what had been going on behind closed doors. 

“Hey, you fall in?” Severide called from the other side of the door. “I thought we were going for breakfast? Hurry up, I’m starving!”

Casey rolled his eyes and flushed the toilet for cover, running the sink, before he opened the door and smirked at his boyfriend who was standing by the door like a kid ready for a field trip. 

“You’re always starving,” he said as he joined him at the door.

“True, but that doesn’t make me any less hungry.”

Casey shook his head at Severide, smiling, before he grabbed his keys and they were out the door.

Later that night, Casey and Severide were at Molly’s, drinking beers and enjoying the game. At least the blonde was trying to enjoy the game. The last twenty minutes things had started to go downhill. In truth, Casey wasn’t feeling one hundred percent. His body ached slightly, the cut on his side pulsating, and he was tired like he had been up for a long time, but that was strange since they had had a relatively quiet night on shift.

“Everything okay?” Severide asked as he reached over and placed his hand on Casey’s. “You seem quiet.”

Casey shrugged as he kept his focus on the tv. “I don’t feel that great.”

He finally turned his head to look at his boyfriend and saw him frown. 

“What’s wrong?”

Casey just shrugged again. He didn’t really know what was wrong, just that he wanted to leave.

Severide leaned forward and cupped a hand on his face before he brought it up to Casey’s forehead. The blonde normally would have pulled away, but he was too tired to care who was watching.

“You feel warm, but I don’t think you’re feverish. Let me pay our tab and we can get out of here, okay?”

Casey nodded and Severide’s hand slipped off his face as he slid off his bar stool and walked over to where Herrmann was polishing a glass. 

Even though Casey had been the one to drive, Severide offered to drive them back home and Casey accepted. He was starting to feel worse; the aches in his body deepening, his side throbbing, and a chill began to work its way up his spine. 

Back at their apartment, Casey went straight to their bedroom where he brushed his teeth and then changed into his sleep clothes, not even bothering to flip on the light. He was just about to slip into bed when Severide walked in.

“Think you’re getting sick?” he asked as he shrugged off his jacket and began getting undressed. 

“Maybe,” Casey said as he slid under the covers, goosebumps prickling his skin. Why was he so cold?

Severide made his way to their ensuite bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room, before he emerged a few minutes later and joined Casey in bed.

“You want to take anything?”

Casey pushed himself deeper into his pillows, grabbing at his side when it pulled painfully, and shook his head. “I just want to sleep.”

“Okay,” Severide said as he reached over and turned off the bedside lamp, plunging them into darkness. “Hopefully you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Casey hoped that was the case too, but had no idea how the rippling pain in his side was going to prove him wrong. 

He didn’t know how long he had been asleep. The room was still pitch black as he blinked open his eyes. However, he did know one thing and that was how terrible he felt. Sleep had made everything worse. His whole body ached deeply, chills wracking him even though he could feel sweat pooling across his body, and his side burned with a new fury, hot acidic pain that sparked with each breath. 

Casey slipped out of bed and stood, placing a hand on the wall when his vision wavered and his head swam, while clutching his side with the other. Somehow he made it to the bathroom where he shut the door, not wanting to disturb his sleeping boyfriend, before he turned on the light. He winced at the brightness and stumbled over to the sink where he braced himself on the porcelain lip. He stared at his reflection and grimaced. His skin was pale except for the deep blush on his cheeks, eyes red-rimmed with dark smudges under them, sweat dotting his forehead. He didn’t understand what was happening, why he was so sick so suddenly, but then his eyes caught on the gauze wrapper in the garbage and he cursed. How could he have been so stupid?

Lifting his shirt, he peeled off the gauze and confirmed his fears. The cut in his side was puckered, red radiating from the wound, and clearly very infected. He probed the area and bit his lip to choke off a yell at the pain his touch had caused. He panted, sweaty fingers clutching the cool sink, as he tried to figure out what to do. But his brain wouldn’t focus, couldn’t focus, as heat swam through it, distorting all thoughts like a desert mirage. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think long since a soft knock at the door startled him, causing him to jump slightly and pull at the wound. 

He groaned as the door cracked open and Severide’s voice rang through, soft and sleep-ridden. “Case? You okay?”

“Need some help,” he grunted as he clutched at his side, one hand still firmly gripped on the sink. 

The door swung open fully as Severide walked in, squinting at the harsh brightness before he paused in his tracks as he took his boyfriend in.

“Shit, Case, that looks bad,” he said as he rushed over, hands reaching to touch the injured area but Casey stopped him with a hand.

“No, please,” he panted, knowing how much it would hurt if his boyfriend touched it.

“I need to see how bad it is, bud.”

Casey kept his hand firmly wrapped around Severide’s wrist and saw his boyfriend’s face soften through blurry eyes.

“Why don’t you lay down first? You look like you’re about to collapse anyway.”

Casey’s legs did feel like jelly, muscles shaking as they barely kept him upright. Severide didn’t even wait for him to agree, he just helped Casey to the ground where he pushed him gently until he was laying on the bathroom floor. 

“Now, I’m going to check out your cut, but I’m going to be as gentle as possible, okay? I promise I’ll try not to hurt you.” His voice was soft, like he was speaking to a child, but it calmed Casey, his feverish brain working overtime as it tried to figure everything out. But all Casey knew was that he felt sick and he hurt. But Severide was also here. And he always made things better. So he nodded.

His boyfriend was true to his word and was as gentle as possible, but the exam still hurt, Casey’s writhing on the floor, Severide apologizing softly over and over. When he was done, Casey panted on the floor before his boyfriend’s face swam into view, his vision blurry and unfocused. 

“This is pretty bad, Case,” he said softly as he placed his hand on Casey’s forehead, “and you’re burning up. You need to go to the hospital.”

“No…” he groaned as he turned his head away. He didn’t want to go to the hospital. 

“I’m going to go get the thermometer. It’s in the other bathroom.” Then Casey was alone, laying on his back on the cold tile floor. Things were okay at first, but then the shadows grew, reaching toward him, long tendrils of fingers closing around him.

Casey blinked hard, willing the shadows to go away, and felt sweat rolling from his temple and down his face toward his neck. When he opened his eyes they had left, but now he was left alone in this place and the shadows could be back at any moment.

And why did he hurt so much? He squinted in the light and rolled his head as he tried to figure out where he was. Suddenly a figure appeared in the room and knelt next to him, something pointy in his hand. Panic shot through him. What had he done this time? He didn’t remember, but it must have been bad. He only got hurt like this when he was extra bad. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “please…”

The figure moved, hands raised, hands that were going to hit him, hurt him with the instrument in his hand.

“No!” he yelled and flinched back, pain erupting in his side making him cry out. 

“Please, I’m sorry, ” he cried, breath hitching in his chest as tears slid down his cheeks. He was so confused, and hot, and everything hurt. He didn’t even remember what he had done to deserve this punishment; normally he did, but this time it was all a confused blur. 

Casey weakly pushed his hands out, connecting with a solid chest, as he tried to create space between him and the man, but it wasn’t working. He writhed on the ground, trying to get away, but all it accomplished was making waves of hot, rippling pain shoot through his side. He collapsed against the floor as his body gave out, heaving gulping breaths of air, tears streaming down his face with no control. 

Then he was being moved, his body picked up, his side screaming in pain. He struggled against the arms that held him, but it was no use, they held him tight and he couldn’t escape. And as the pain reached its climax, his side burning like acid was eating through his skin and devouring him from the outside in, his world went blissfully dark. 

This time, waking was different. His body felt light, numb, and the acid that had been tearing through him was gone, the heat threatening to consume him, cooled. There was something placed across his forehead, soft and cool, and he sighed in relief. 

“Casey?” A voice asked, tired and gruff.

Casey cracked his eyes open and blinked as he looked around. He was in the apartment, laying on the couch. He looked to the side and spotted his boyfriend right next to him in a chair he had brought over from the kitchen. Light was streaming into the living room but it was soft, so Casey figured it was still early. 

“Hey,” he boyfriend said, a small smile on his face but it was tinged in sadness.

“Hey,” he responded, voice rough and throat dry. He licked his dry lips and tried again. “What happened?”

Severide leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “Your cut was severely infected. I found you in the bathroom. Your fever was really high. You were delirious, started talking about stuff-” he paused and cleared his throat and Casey knew what he said, even if he had no memory of the moment, was bothering his boyfriend. He didn’t remember anything after waking up, feeling like shit, and then entering the bathroom. 

“But you were adamant about not going to the hospital. You flipped out when I tried to take you so I called Brett instead. I thought you were going to hurt yourself more the way you were thrashing.” A hollowness marred his boyfriend’s eyes. “She came over right away. You’re lucky she has a friend who has access to medical stuff. She was able to get you an antibiotic IV drip,” Severide said, gesturing to the IV bag Casey didn’t notice before. It was half empty, the line connecting to a spot on Casey’s left arm. “You’re being pumped with antibiotics and some pain meds. She also cleaned out your wound thoroughly before she wrapped it back up. You’ll have to go to your doctor to get a prescription for the antibiotics since you'll need to take them for the next ten days, but she made it so you didn’t have to go to the hospital and probably saved your life. Left untreated wounds infected like that can be lethal.” 

Casey nodded. “I’ll make sure to thank her. And you. You saved me too.”

Severide smiled again but it didn’t reach his eyes. Casey reached out, careful of the IV, and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand.

“What’s wrong?”

Severide was quiet for a moment, eyes downcast, but then he looked up and Casey could see they were bright with emotion, a mask of sadness on his boyfriend's face.

“I know you were out of it at the time, but I can’t get what you said out of my head. You kept telling me not to hurt you, pleaded with me. Why would you think I would ever hurt you?”

Casey’s breath caught in his chest as he closed his eyes. The fear that he had felt last night came back to him like a distant memory, the horrors of his mind flashing in fog-veiled pictures. He had thought that Severide was his father and that he had been beating him. In his confusion, he had mistaken the pain he was in for the pain of his childhood, the belt that struck him at his dad’s hand when he was bad, which seemed to be most of the time growing up. It was something he tried not to think of, had pushed away the moment he found out his dad had been murdered by his mom, but in his vulnerable state last night, his mind compromised with fever, it had all come flooding back. 

“Sev, no,” he said softly as he squeezed his boyfriend’s hand, making him look him in the eyes. “I would never be afraid of you. I know I’m safest when I’m with you, you make me safe,” he continued and Severide’s eyes glimmered, his face pinched. 

“Then why were you afraid last night?”

Casey released a shaky breath and a tear rolled down his cheek. “When I was younger, my dad…” he sucked in a breath, the words grating in his chest, but he knew he needed to get them out. “He…beat me. Hit me with a belt when I was bad or did something he didn’t like.” More tears rolled down his cheeks and he saw Severide suck in a breath, sadness turning into sorrow as understanding burned in his boyfriend’s eyes. “I guess I was just so confused that I thought I was back there.”

He sniffed and ran his right hand under his nose, brushing away more tears as he gave Severide a weak smile. “Guess I’m still a little messed up.”

Severide moved, bringing his hands up to cup Casey’s face. “No, Case, you’re not messed up. You had messed up things done to you and I’m sorry that you had to go through that. And if you ever want to talk about it, I’m right here. Always.”

Casey nodded and leaned into Severide’s touch where he knew he was safe, where he knew those hands that had hurt him would never touch him again, where he knew that he would be alright as long as he had Severide by his side.

Chapter Text

Casey watched from the top of the bridge as Severide, Cruz, and Capp searched the icy water below, turning his collar up to the wind as a particularly sharp gust shot a chill down his spine. He hoped that his boyfriend was warm enough in his thermal gear. He should be since he was wearing the suits designed specifically for these kinds of conditions, but he still worried nonetheless. 

He was monitoring the rope equipment they had used to lower themselves into the water as they searched for the woman that was missing. They had been called to a car crash with a woman ejected. They had only found out on scene that the woman had been ejected off the bridge and into the water. The woman had lost control on a patch of ice and slammed into the bridge’s guardrail. She must have not been wearing her seatbelt since she had flown right through her windshield.

It was already a long shot that she was alive since a skull impacting the windshield at a velocity high enough to shatter it would cause major trauma, and the fact that she had fallen into the icy Chicago river below had dropped her chances of survival even lower. But they never gave up, not until they knew it was too late, so Severide and part of his team had suited up and gone in, trying to locate her body. So far, they were having no luck.

“Car is all good to be towed,” Kidd said as she walked over, helmet in hand. Casey nodded.

“No luck?” She asked as she, too, peered over the bridge and into the water below.

“Not yet.”

“I’m sure they’ll find her. They are the best in Chicago after all.”

That was true, but something in Casey told him they’d be disappointed this time around. 

A few more minutes went by before a car screeched onto the scene and a large man got out. He beelined straight for Casey.

“You in charge of this scene?”  he asked as he got up in Casey’s face, veins in his neck and forehead bulging. Casey took a step back to create space and felt his back hit the rails at the edge of the bridge. 

“Yes, I’m Captain Casey. I’m going to have to ask you to step back. This scene is still active.”

“That’s my wife down there! What are you doing to rescue her? Why are you just standing here doing nothing?” 

Casey raised his hands in a surrender gesture, trying to get the man to calm down. “Sir, I assure you we’re doing everything we can. We have our best guys-” 

The man grabbed the front of his turnout coat, raising Casey into his toes as he pushed him back.

“You’re not doing enough! You should be down there looking for my wife!” 

“Sir-” Casey started again, but the man wasn’t listening. 

“If she dies, it’s on your hands!” The man pushed as he released him, sending Casey back unbalanced. But he was already at the edge and as he stumbled, he fell back, slipping over the rail, his weight pulling him the rest of the way, and suddenly he was falling, body weightless as it fell, before he crashed into the water that was as hard as concrete and cold enough to suck all the air from his lungs and the energy from his body. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, as his body sank, blood turning to ice. Disoriented, not knowing which way was up or down, Casey sucked in a breath and choked as water filled his mouth and rushed into his lungs. His lungs screamed, or maybe he did, he couldn't tell. He thought he was thrashing, legs kicking blindly, but his body was so numb, his mind going blank, and then he knew nothing more. 

Life exploded from him, light flooding his eyelids, cold air pricking his skin like bee stings, and water rushed from his mouth, his nose, exploding from him as he coughed and gagged. Hands were on him, holding him on his side, the ground cold and wet beneath him, mud soaking into his hair, his clothes, but all Casey could do was retch, more water expelling from his lungs as he coughed and heaved, stomach clenching. 

“There you go,” a voice said in his ear, smooth and warm, “get it out, Case. Breathe.”

Casey fell into a coughing fit, but then he sucked in a deep lungful of cold air, his lungs burning, but oxygen flooding his system and he brain shot back online. As he sucked in ragged breaths he was turned onto his back and then the hands were on his face, ice touching ice. 

“There you are. You’re okay, I've got you.”

Casey opened his eyes and was met with his boyfriend’s concerned face hovering above him. 

“What-” he rasped, but broke out into a coughing fit.

“Shh, don’t talk, just breathe, Case. You fell off the bridge into the water. I pulled you out.”

As the coughing subsided, Casey sucked in another breath before he said, “pushed.”

Severide froze above him, water dripping off his nose as he stared at Casey.

“You were pushed?” 

Casey nodded. “Husband.”

“The missing woman’s husband?”

“He was upset. Pushed me and I fell.”

Severide’s head whipped up to stare at the bridge before he returned his attention back to Casey.

“Don’t worry about him right now, just focus on your breathing. I’ll make sure he’s handled.”

Casey nodded and closed his eyes. He was so tired, his body chilled. A minute later he was loaded onto a stokes basket, a recovery blanket tucked tightly around him.

“Just keep breathing, Case. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

So that’s what Casey did. He kept breathing, his boyfriend by his side every step of the way.  

Chapter Text

“I can’t do it. Just leave me here to die in peace,” Mouch panted from the rear of the group as they rounded another stairwell.

Casey chuckled as he looked back, the older firefighter hunched over as he climbed the steps slowly, one leg at a time, pulling on the rail to hoist the rest of him up. “We’re almost there, Mouch. You can do it,” he said as he glanced at the wall. Floor 13. They only had 4 more to go. 

He, Mouch, Cruz, and Severide were currently walking the hundreds of steps to the 17th floor where one of the apartment’s elevators was stuck. No one was reported to be inside so they weren’t in a huge rush, but they liked to get these types of jobs done in a timely manner so they were available for real emergencies.

As the stairs levelled out on the 17th floor, Casey made his way to the door and opened it, allowing the rest of his men through and making sure Mouch was still with them. A minute after everyone had gone through the door, Mouch appeared, red faced and sweaty, but still walking. Casey gave him a friendly pat on the back as he walked by earning a half-hearted wave as the older firefighter fought to catch his breath. 

“You sure your guy’s not about to have a coronary?” Severide asked, grin on his face, as Casey approached. 

“Nah, he’s alright. Just give him a minute.”

Severide shook his head and chuckled. Casey picked up his radio and pressed the button. “How are things looking down there Otis?”

“Power’s totally out in the elevator and I can’t restore it. You’ll have to access it from the inside and manually bring it down to the ground,” Otis replied from somewhere far below in the belly of the apartment building.

“Copy that,” Casey replied and dropped his radio. Then he turned to his boyfriend. “Can you get these doors open?”

“No problem.”

Grabbing an elevator key, Severide inserted it into the small hole at the top of one of the elevator doors before he turned to Cruz. “On three?”

Crus nodded and shoved the skinny end of his halligan into the crack of the elevator. 

“One, two, three!” Cruz pulled, widening his legs to support his stance as he leaned back, getting the doors to open slightly. Severide moved in then, grabbing the door closer to him and pulling. The doors slid open smoothly and then Severide locked them in place. Unfortunately, they were looking at a black hole, the elevator nowhere in sight. 

Making sure one hand was anchored on the wall, Casey leaned down and peered over the edge. The elevator was a floor down, just shy of that floor's elevator doors. They would have to repel down to get inside. 

“Care to head down here with me?” Casey asked his boyfriend and Severide grinned. 

The two of them were strapped into their repelling gear by Cruz and a recovered Mouch. They would act as their anchors as Casey and Severide descended. They would only need to keep them locked in place until they got to the elevator. After that, Casey and Severide would take the elevator back to the ground floor.

Positioning themselves at the edge leading to the elevator shaft, Mouch and Cruz got into position, nodding when they were ready, and Casey looked over to his boyfriend.

“You ready?”

Severide nodded. “Always.”

Casey nodded and they both took the first jump, getting their feet positioned on the elevator shaft walls before they walked down slowly, matching each other's pace and making sure their lines kept tight and didn’t snag on anything. When their boots clunked on the metal top of the elevator, both he and Severide unclipped from their lines before Severide located the elevator hatch and opened it, light spilling from inside and illuminating the dingy shaft. 

“It’s empty,” Severide confirmed and then lowered himself inside. Casey quickly followed before he radioed Mouch and Cruz above to let them know they were inside. Then he radioed Otis again.

“What are we looking for?”

“There’s a panel below all of the buttons. It’ll open with the same key you used to open the elevator doors. Once open, you just insert the key into the hole to the right and that should cause the switch next to it to light up. From there you can annually control the elevator and bring it down. The elevator techs will take it from there, figure out why it stopped working.”

“Got it. Thanks Otis.”

Severide kneeled down in front of the panel and inserted the key. The panel popped up just as Otis said and they located the keyhole. When Severide put the key in and turned, the switch to the right lit up green. His boyfriend let out a triumphant laugh.

“Not too bad. Seems we’ll be done in time for lunch after all.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Do you ever not think about food?”

Severide considered this, lips pursed as he pretended to think and then he smiled. “Nope.”

“Whatever. Just hit the switch,” Casey said, but a smile tugged at his lips. 

“Yes, Captain,” Severide replied and Casey rolled his eyes again. He watched as Severide flipped the switch to the “down” position and then the elevator began to move slowly. For the first two floors, nothing happened. The elevator continued its slow descent, no signs that anything was amiss. But as the light for the 15th floor faded and the 14th floor one lit up, the elevator jerked like it had hit a snag. Both Casey and Severide stumbled, each of them putting a hand to the wall to keep themselves upright. 

“What was that?” Severide asked as he looked around, as if he could see what the problem was.

“I’m not sure. I’ll ask Otis.”

He had just reached down to grab his radio when the elevator shuddered again, this time more violently, and then plunged into darkness as the lights failed. Before Casey could utter another word, a loud screeching sound split through the air, slicing through Casey’s head. He clapped his hands over his ears and then, without warning, something snapped above them, echoing hollowly in the elevator shaft and they were in free fall. There wasn’t a moment to make a sound, the air sucked out of Casey’s lungs as they dropped, weightless for a moment, before the elevator came to an abrupt stop. Casey felt Severide go flying into him as the elevator lurched, bucking as it stopped forcefully, before he collided with the wall, his head cracking against something hard and his mind went dark. 

The first thing that registered was the aching in his head, throbbing in time with his heartbeat and radiating down his head and into his neck. The next was the fact that he was laying on the ground, something soft behind his head and wrapped around it, the soft material tugged around his forehead, just above his eyes. Speaking of which, his eyes were still closed. He opened them then, squinting at the fluorescent lights above. It took Casey a moment to realize that it wasn’t the normal lights on, but the yellow emergency lights, dim, and casting long shadows throughout the elevator. 

He moved slightly, wanting to sit up, but groaned when pain laced through his skull.

“You with me Casey?” Severide asked, suddenly appearing next to him.

Casey hummed a response, trying to get his mouth to work. It took a moment of trying, but finally he was able to ask, “what happened?”

“What do you remember?”

Casey thought that over, digging into his mind to bring back the events before he ended up on the ground, and said, “we were bringing the elevator to the ground. It fell and then everything went black, in more ways than one,” he added and chuckled softly, wincing when it made his head hurt. 

Severide huffed softly. “Yeah you got your bell rung good. When the elevator’s emergency brakes kicked in, the elevator rocked and sent me flying. Unfortunately for you, you ended up catching me and I sent you into the elevator wall.”

His boyfriend winced, guilt lining his face. So that’s why his head hurt. 

“S’not your fault. S’elevators fault.”

Severide frowned. “Still, I’m sorry.”

Casey waved the apology off before he changed the subject. “What’s wrapped around my head? I feel like a mummy.”

Severide chuckled softly. “My shirt. I tore a strip out of it and wrapped it around your head as a makeshift bandage. Your head caught something sharp and you’re bleeding.”

“Great,” Casey groaned. “I cracked my head open again. How many lives is that now?”

“Too many. You need to keep what’s in your head on the inside, Matty.”

“I’ll make sure to tell the elevator that next time it wants to send us in a free fall.”

Casey lay there for a moment before something Severide said struck him. He looked over, despite the pain it caused, and noticed for the first time that his boyfriend was indeed shirtless, his turnout coat on but unzipped, his well sculpted abs in full view.

“You look like you’re about to do a calendar shoot,” Casey said, chuckling slightly. 

Severide looked down and grinned. “You like this look? I could bring my gear home, wear my turnout coat in the bedroom. Just my turnout coat.”

Casey blushed deeply as Severide smiled, eyes gleaming. “Shut up. This is so not the time.”

Severide moved closer, a devilish smile on his lips. “When is the right time then, Captain?”

“How about when you two love birds aren’t trapped in an elevator?” A voice rang out from the elevator’s speaker and Casey stiffened, his blush spreading down his neck and over his ears. 

“Yeah, we can hear everything you’re saying,” Otis confirmed, reading the silence.

While Casey was mortified, Severide just sat back, a smile still on his face. Then he turned toward the speaker. 

“How about instead of eavesdropping you find a way to get us the hell out of here? Casey probably has a concussion.”

“I’m working on it. And I was not eavesdropping. I can automatically-”

“If it’s not pertinent to our rescue, I don’t want to hear it,” Severide said, cutting Otis off. The speaker went quiet. Casey shot his boyfriend a look. 

“What? He ruined the moment.”

“First of all, we were not having a moment. Secondly, he’s trying to get us out of here. Play nice.” 

“Fine. But really, did you want me to bring this-”

“Sev!” He hissed, cutting off his boyfriend who just laughed. 

It took another twenty minutes, but Otis was finally able to lower the elevator to the next floor where Cruz and Mouch got the doors open quickly. They had wanted Casey to wear a c-collar, but he insisted that he was fine and would walk himself down the stairs. Severide had agreed to let him do just that if he let his boyfriend help him and then take him to the hospital to get checked out. Casey had agreed since he didn’t have the energy to protest and they had made their way down and into Squad to drive to the hospital.

 Since Casey was adamant he was fine, Severide had gone with Squad to be dropped back at 51 so he could pick up his car. When he arrived back at the hospital, Casey was ready to be discharged, a few staples in the back of his head and a minor concussion. When they were in the car, Casey just sat back, tired from the painkillers they had given him, when Severide suddenly spoke. 

“I got something for you.”

Casey turned to look at his boyfriend, one eyebrow raised in question. 

“It’s in the back.”

Casey turned to look and scoffed when he saw what lay in the back seat, turning back to face his grinning boyfriend. 

“Tell me you didn’t actually bring that home with you.”

“What? I thought you liked how I looked in my turnout coat,” Severide said as he raised his brows. “I saw how you looked at me in the elevator.”

“Oh my god,” Casey muttered as he brought his hands up to his face. 

On their next shift, Severide’s coat was returned to the turnout room where it belonged, the memories of last night firmly locked in Casey’s mind.

Chapter Text

Severide smiled as he sipped his cold beer, leaning back on the wooden bench and taking in everything as the sun beat steadily on his face. He was in a large park surrounded by Chicago’s finest firefighters and their families for the annual picnic. Further down the field on the local baseball diamond, a game was being played by firefighters who had volunteered when the idea for a game was pitched and Casey was among them. Severide could see his boyfriend by the dugout, chatting with another guy, as they waited for their turn on the field. 

It made Severide happy to see Casey out there. Besides when on shift or at Molly’s, Casey tended to keep more to himself, so it was nice to see the blonde talking with different people and having fun.

The Squad lieutenant got up from the bench to head over and watch the game. He had been chatting with some people he knew from OFI when the game had started, so Casey had told him to join when he was done if he wanted. Which, of course, he did. He’d always be a part of whatever Casey wanted to do. 

Finding a seat in the bleachers, he ended up next to Kidd and Brett. The field consisted of a mishmash of people from all over the CFD, but Severide recognized Cruz and Otis, and of course Casey, as those representing 51. 

The bleachers were surprisingly full, spectators composed of loved ones and friends cheering on their people on the field. Overall, it was a friendly environment, excited and jovial, and Severide found himself smiling as well as he watched the game progress. The weather was perfect too. It was warm, but a cool breeze stirred the air, keeping the temperature low enough that they weren’t scorching, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky which was a brilliant blue above.

Time passed, the players on the field switching positions, men subbing for their teammates on the bench, and then Casey’s team was on the field and Casey was in the center of it all, pitching. 

The first hitter was sent to bat and Casey pitched the ball. It arched slightly and the hitter swung, the bat making contact with a loud crack before he dropped it and ran to first base. Casey’s team fumbled with the ball in the field, so the guy kept running to second base, the supporters for their team going wild on the bleachers. Thankfully, they recovered and the man was stopped at second base, ruining his attempt at a home run. Severide, Kidd, and Brett clapped regardless, everyone having fun. That was okay, it was just the first pitch. Casey had this. 

The next hitter got into position, rubbing the top of his bat into the dirt before slinging it over his shoulder, knees bent, as he watched Casey carefully. Severide saw Casey’s face pinch in concentration as he pulled his arm back, bending slightly as he paused, taking in a breath, before he let the ball fly. Speeding through the air, the ball whizzed by the hitter as he swung, and missed. Severide cheered, whistling with his fingers happily, Kidd and Brett doing the same. While most people wouldn’t see the change on Casey’s face, it was easy to spot for Severide. The slight smile that turned up the corners of his lips, the way his forehead crinkled slightly. His boyfriend was pleased. 

Getting back into position, the hitter ground the dirt harder, clearly agitated, before he moved into his ready position, hands gripping the bat’s handle tightly. Casey readied himself too, faster this time, and threw the ball. Once again it whizzed through the air and right by the hitter as he swung, and failed to hit the ball a second time. More cheering from his spot on the bench, groans from the fans of the opposing team, and then they were on the third pitch. One more missed ball and this guy was out. 

Now the hitter meant business. He kicked his feet, scraping them along the dirt, as he settled down, knees bent, and tapped his bat a few times against the ground with loud thuds. Then he brought the bat up to his shoulder, swinging it around slightly as he locked his knees and made eye contact with Casey, hands gripped tight to his bat. But Casey also meant business, his face a mask of cool calm, his stance locked as he stared the hitter down right back. Casey’s hand came up, his gaze still locked on the guy, and then the ball flew, soaring through the air with speed. The hitter swung and just managed to hit the ball with a sharp crack. The ball went speeding in the other direction, faster than a blink of an eye, before it impacted Casey. The blonde didn’t even have time to react, the thud of the ball hitting Casey’s chest would haunt Severide for the rest of his life. He could do nothing as Casey crumpled onto the pitching mound, body motionless. His arms were splayed at his sides, his legs folded beneath him, and he was so still. Severide couldn’t even tell if his boyfriend was breathing. 

The crowd went silent, the players on the field frozen in shock, before everyone exploded into action. Severide was already moving, running down the bleachers, jumping over the gaps, as he made his way to Casey, Kidd and Brett close behind him. When his feet touched the field, he broke out into a run and made it to his boyfriend’s side just after Cruz and Otis. 

They had pulled Casey so he was laying completely flat, head angled to the side, face pale and slack. Severide put his hands on his boyfriend's chest, but he didn’t feel any movement. He reached out and pressed two fingers into Casey’s warm neck, begging, pleading, that there would be the feeling of soft thumps beneath his fingertips. His blood seemed to drain from his body, the air leaving his lungs, when he didn’t feel anything.

Suddenly Brett was there on Casey’s other side, face pale with worry but a professional calmness on her face.

“I can’t feel a pulse,” Severide said as he stared at her, fingers still pressed to Casey’s neck. She reached down and grabbed Casey wrist, squeezing it tightly as she shut her eyes. After a few seconds she shook her head and opened her eyes, pain reflected deep in them.

“He’s got no pulse. Start compressions.”

Severide’s world came crashing down on him as he moved, his training taking over. He knelt next to his boyfriend, positioning his hands in the middle of his chest, slightly to the left, before he interlaced his fingers and started compressions. The feeling of Casey’s chest moving, his body lurching as Severide manually pumped his heart, made him want to throw up, scream that this wasn’t fair, not Casey, but he pushed all of that away, focused on pumping Casey’s heart, giving him time to be saved. He vaguely heard Brett call for an ambulance, Kidd confirming she was on the phone with them now, but it was all a blur. The only thing Severide knew was Casey. His boyfriend, the best thing that had happened to him, the one person who knew him best, who Severide trusted with his life, and how still he was, lifeless, as Severide kept doing compressions. 

When he had counted to 30, Severide stopped and tipped Casey’s head back, opening his airway, before he clamped his nose shut and delivered two breaths. He almost cried at the feeling of Casey’s cold lips, slack and dry as he gave the rescue breaths. These were the lips he loved to kiss, the trace in bed in the mornings, the lips that breathed life and spoke Casey’s heart. This was wrong. Casey shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be having his heart manually pumped. Today was supposed to be full of fun, drinking, and food. 

He continued doing compressions, a few tears escaping and sliding down his nose onto Casey’s chest, but Severide just kept going. He had no idea how long he continued. His body had gone numb, his mind buzzing, but he never stopped. Then he was being pulled aside, strong hands on his arms as he pulled, trying to get back to Casey, but then there were words in his ear. 

“Kelly, stop! They’re here to save Casey. You need to let them do their job.”

He stilled as his eyes unglazed and watched as the paramedics knelt next to Casey, sticking the AED patches onto his chest before turning the device on. It beeped and a robotic voice said, “ monitoring heart rhythm”. There was silence for a moment before the machine beeped again. 

“Ventricular fibrillation detected. Stand by. Preparing to shock. Everyone clear. Do not touch patient.”

The paramedics knelt back, sweeping their arms out to keep everyone clear of Casey. Then an alarm went off from the machine before a zapping noise could be heard and Casey’s body jerked. Then the voice spoke again.

“Shock delivered. Provide chest compressions and rescue breaths.”

The paramedic on the right moved immediately and began pumping Casey’s chest again. Severide could only watch on in horror as his boyfriend’s life hung in their hands. 

They continued chest compressions for two minutes before the AED monitored Casey’s heart again. When the voice spoke, Severide almost collapsed right there on the grass. 

“No shock advised. Normal heart rhythm detected. Discontinue chest compressions and rescue breaths.”

In a flash, the paramedics loaded Casey onto the gurney and were rushing him off the field, the AED still attached. Severide stood on rubbery legs and followed, his eyes locked on Casey’s now rising and falling chest. 

When he got to the ambulance he told them who he was and they allowed him to ride in the back. On the way to the hospital, the paramedic in back continued to monitor Casey’s heart, placing an oxygen mask over his face, while also inserting a saline IV. The paramedic then asked questions about Casey’s past medical history and what had happened before the collapse. Severide told her Casey was perfectly healthy, no issues that should have caused his heart to stop, and that he had been hit by a baseball and just collapsed. 

The paramedic nodded, notting all this on their tablet, and then they were at the hospital and Casey was whisked away. Severide made his way to the waiting room numbly, sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, as he just stared at the doors Casey had been whisked through.

Kidd, Brett, Otis, Cruz, and the rest of 51 joined him shortly after. All Severide could tell them was that Casey’s heart had still been beating and he was breathing on his own when he was rushed in. 

An hour later, Halstead walked into the waiting room, clipboard in hand, heading toward Severide. He got up and met him halfway, heart in his throat as he waited for news.

“Casey’s doing great.” he said immediately and Severide sagged in relief, running a hand through his hair as he let out a shaky breath. “We’re going to keep him overnight to monitor him, but we’re optimistic he can go home in the morning.”

“That’s great,” Severide said as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. He had never felt so relieved in his life. He cleared his throat. “What happened? Why did his heart stop beating?” 

“Have you ever heard of commotio cordis?” 

Severide shook his head.

“It’s an extremely rare phenomenon. It occurs when something hits the chest, like a hockey puck, or in this case a baseball, at a high rate of speed. If the object hits the heart in exactly the right place at the exact moment the heart beats, it will send the heart into a distorted rhythm and almost always result in cardiac arrest.” 

“So when Casey got hit, the ball stopped his heart?”

“Yes. He was unlucky enough that it hit him at the perfect moment to stop his heart. The odds of that occurring are astronomical, but it does happen. The good news is that Casey had great care after it happened. I heard you were the one doing compressions. You saved his life. Every moment once the heart stops counts. Casey should make a full recovery, no side effects.”

Severide nodded and wiped away a tear that slipped through and rolled down his cheek. 

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, go right ahead. He’s in room 237. I’ll let the rest of your team know what’s going on.”

“Thank you,” Severide said, pressing his hand briefly to Halstead’s shoulder, and then he shot off down the hall. 

When he located Casey’s room, he walked through the ajar door. His boyfriend was propped up slightly in the bed, IV drip still in his arm and nasal cannula on his face, but he had colour in his cheeks, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He radiated life, a stark contrast to how Severide had last seen him, the image of him crumpled on the field burned into his mind.

Severide’s shoe scuffed on the floor and Casey’s head turned, his eyes opening. He smiled when he saw Severide standing there. 

“Hi,” Casey said softly as Severide moved to stand next to him.

“You scared the hell out of me, Case,” Severide said as he reached out and grabbed Casey’s hand, feeling the warmth beneath his fingers, a reassurance that Casey was alive and well. Tears pricked his eyes again but this time he couldn’t stop them and they spelled down his cheeks. 

Casey frowned, eyes shimmering pools of sadness. “I’m so sorry, Sev.”

Severide reached forward and gripped Casey into a hug. He needed the contact, needed to feel Casey breathe beneath him, feel the beat of his heart against his cheek. He felt Casey grip him tightly and they stayed like that for a few minutes before Severide drew back slightly. Casey reached up and brushed away a few stray tears.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Severide finally said, voice hoarse. “It was a freak accident. No one could have done anything.” 

“Still, I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Case,” Severide chastised lightly as he bent down and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead, rubbing a thumb over the spot after before he carded his hand through Casey’s soft hair. 

“Just don’t do it again. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

Casey chuckled slightly as he sat back, closing his eyes as Severide continued to run his fingers through his hair. “Got it. No more sports.”

“You’re lucky if I let you out of the house again after this.”

Casey cracked an eye open and glared. “Danger is literally our job, Sev. It’s not like you can shield me from everything.”

“Just watch me.”

Casey’s face shifted into something soft, loving. “And I appreciate you for that but you can’t save me from everything. Shit happens sometimes. But we can promise to look after one another as much as we can.”

Severide stared at the blonde for a moment, his blonde, and nodded. “I promise that I will always protect you whenever I can, Matthew Casey.”

“And I promise the same for you, Kelly Severide.”

Chapter Text

“Of course you’d bring that up now. Classy, Severide,” Casey said as he slammed his dinner plate into the sink harder than he meant to, but he was just so angry. Thankfully it didn’t break but it did make a loud noise. He and Severide stared at each other, Casey in the kitchen and Severide in the living room, silent and breathing hard. 

He wasn’t sure how they had gotten here. The two of them had been having a nice dinner that Sev had cooked. It was a pasta dish, creamy and flavourful, and his boyfriend had even made homemade garlic bread and a salad to go with it. Everything had been delicious. They were enjoying each other's company, just having a great time. Then work had come up. They each tried to keep shop talk to a minimum, but their conversation had sparked an issue that had arisen at work the previous day. 

51 had been sent on a call for a person trapped. It turned out that the person worked in a factory and when one of their conveys got jammed, they had stuck their hand in to clear the problem. Unfortunately, the conveyor hadn’t been turned off and as soon as they yanked the debris free, the conveyor had begun moving again and had sandwiched their hand in it, jamming it once again, this time with the hand stopping it. Severide had wanted to use tools to free their hand, but Casey had been quick to disagree. Based on Brett’s analysis of the injury, crush syndrome was more likely to occur the longer the hand was stuck. And if Casey let Severide use tools, it would pose the risk of the rescue taking too long. But if they reversed the machine, they could free the victims hand then and there and eliminate that possibility. His boyfriend had argued, saying that they posed more risk of damage in reversing the hand out, that tools would be a safer route, but Casey had pulled rank and they ended up doing it his way.

Severide had been annoyed, but things only got worse when they later found out that the person had some nerve damage and wouldn’t have full use of their hand, but would recover. Severide had given Casey a look as they learned this and Casey immediately knew what he was thinking. Back in their quarters, Severide had come over and let Casey know how he felt about it.

They had ended their conversation pissed with one another. Severide was insistent that if they had used tools the victim wouldn’t have nerve damage, but Casey argued that they had no idea when the damage occurred and the person could have lost their hand if crush syndrome set in. They had largely ignored each other the rest of shift, but by the next morning, Casey thought things were okay between them. Sure, it had been a bit tense, but then things began to go back to normal. The dinner had been the confirming factor for the blonde that everything was okay. But then the incident came up. Casey wasn’t even sure how it had happened, but Severide had made a comment, something about decisions not always being the right ones and then things had escalated from there.

His boyfriend’s latest statement had been about rank, something that Casey hated when he brought up since Severide could be competitive, but Casey never saw his promotion that way. Severide was just as worthy of the Captain title, but he didn’t want it, so why should it even be a factor?

Severide snorted and rolled his eyes. “Why? Don’t pretend that you don’t go flaunting your title whenever you can. ‘It’s Captain Casey’”, he said, making a crude impression. 

“Do I make sure people use my proper title? Yes. Rank in the CFD is important. What if your men disrespected your rank as Lieutenant? It’s important to have a leader in a job like this. It keeps things structured, keeps the chain of command, and with that organization, lives are saved. We need order.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did that poor woman from the factory get told she might never get to use her hand again?” Severide asked, voice raining as he stepped closer, eyes flashing hotly. “Were you doing what was in her best interest or just getting in a pissing competition with me? I see the way you pull rank on me when you think you know better, but just because you wear the white shirt doesn’t mean you deserve it. You saved a person from jumping off a building, so what? ”

Casey froze as he stared at his boyfriend, chest cracking as the words splintered his chest and left shattered remains behind. Not only had Severide said he made a bad call, costing that woman the use of her hand, but that he also didn’t deserve his promotion, referencing the call that had put his promotion in motion.

Severide’s face fell in the silence, anger morphing into regret, but Casey didn’t care. What was said was said. 

He moved toward the door, not even sparing a glance at Severide, as he grabbed his jacket. A hand on his arm stopped him. He turned and saw his boyfriend, eyes wide with regret, pulling him back.

“Case…” Severide started, but Casey yanked his arm out of his boyfriend’s grasp. 

“Leave me alone,” he seethed and then he was out the door, slamming it behind him, his heart cracking further when the door didn’t open behind him. Severide wasn’t going to come for him. Fine. 

Casey walked the dark streets, hunched from the chilly breeze the fall night brought. But he kept walking, no destination in mind, just the need to keep his body moving and his mind blank. So he kept walking, his feet taking him who knows where while he retreated into his mind, the conversation he and Severide had echoing on a loop with no end. 

It was only when his feet crunched on dead leaves that Casey looked up and startled. He was at the entrance to a cemetery. And not just any cemetery, the one where Andy was buried. Casey hadn’t been here in years, yet his feet had taken him there anyway.

He walked the dark dirt path, gravestones casting eerie shadows in the dark, the trees long and spindly, like arms reaching out to grab him, but Casey ignored this. He was here and he wasn’t about to turn back. 

Even though Casey hadn’t walked this path in forever, he still knew every step of the way. It wasn’t something you forgot; the path to the final resting place of a loved one. It was ingrained in his brain, just like the day Andy had died. 

After taking a turn, Casey walked down the row and came to a stop in front of Andy’s headstone. With Heather out of state, there was no one to put flowers on Andy’s grave, making it lonelier, no flowers, photos, or memorabilia to symbolize that Andy was missed. It caused a new ache to form in Casey’s chest. He would have to fix that, make sure that this grave was never empty again. He owed that much to Andy.

With nowhere else to be, Casey sat on the patch of grass in front of the headstone, not caring when the dew from the night air soaked his pants. 

He sat in silence for a moment but then gained the courage to speak. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while. It’s cruel of me to avoid this place, but every time I come here I’m reminded of how I failed. Failed as a friend, failed as a leader…” Casey sucked in a breath as his throat burned, tears pooling in his eyes. This had been the first mistake he made as a Lieutenant, as the person in charge, and it had been a big one. Andy had died. And today a woman lost the use of her hand. Of course there had been other mistakes too. The time he almost got Brett killed from calling 61 into the warehouse fire, how he got Otis killed in that same fire, not accounting for his men hard enough. All that was blood on his hands. He, as a leader, was accountable for all of his actions and lack thereof that got people killed or injured. Maybe Severide was right. Why was he a leader? What had he really done to deserve it other than get people killed?

Tears streamed down his face in silent rivers as a sob rippled from his chest and tore at his throat. His breath came in shuddering sobs, the sound of his gasping breaths and the wind stirring leaves the only sound in the night, his only company the moon that hung high in the sky, casting its silvery light over the cemetery. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Andy,” he managed to say, words choppy as he cried, “I can’t be in charge. I only get people killed.”

“No Matt, that’s not true,” a voice said from behind him and Casey jumped up, spinning around as his heart hammered in his throat. He calmed slightly as he saw who it was. Severide was walking up the path, hands in his pockets, and eyes red-rimmed like he, too, had been crying. 

“How did you know where I was?” he asked, breathing heavily as he fought to control his emotions.

“I tracked your phone. I needed to know where you were. I needed to apologize,” Severide said as he took his hands out of his pocket, raising them up in front of him.

Casey snorted as more tears fell. He wiped them away angrily. “No need. You were right. I don’t deserve to be Captain. I don’t even deserve to be Lieutenant.” 

Severide’s face crumpled, eyes bright in the moonlight. “No, Case. I was wrong. I had no right to say that. I was angry…” he let out a breath as he rubbed a hand over his mouth. “When I got to shift yesterday, my dad reached out. Turns out Benny got into hot water. Gambling debts or something. He wanted me to spot him the money. When I told him no, he started going on about how I never was a good son, that I’m just chasing his shadow at the CFD, but I’ll never be as good as him. That I only got promoted because of who he was. I guess that got to me more than I thought, but I never should have taken it out on you. I didn’t mean a single thing that I said. You are an amazing leader and the best Captain 51 would ask for. Never second-guess your judgment. I never do, no matter what stupid things I say.”

Casey’s heart clenched at what Severide revealed, what his father had said to him. Casey understood more than anything what a father’s words, and actions, could do to you. He ached for Severide, what he was going through, but he was too far deep in his sorrow, the bad things that had happened under his command.

“You think he would agree?” Casey spat, flinging a hand at Andy’s tombstone. “Or how about Otis? Or that very same moment where I almost got Brett and Foster killed? What happens the next time my decision gets someone killed? I can’t be trusted, Severide. I don’t trust myself,” his voice broke and he sobbed again, eyes clenched shut as he hunched over. Then he felt warm arms embrace him and he crumpled, Severide catching him and easing them both to the ground where his boyfriend held him tight as he cried, releasing all the sorrow he had ever felt. 

When he had calmed down slightly, Severide pulled back and cupped Casey’s face with his hands. “You are a good leader, Casey. You deserve your Captain title. Those things that happened? They’re not on your hands. They were accidents that should never have happened, but they had nothing to do with you as a leader. You do everything you can for your team on each call, but when we signed up for this job we knew it came with the price of not coming home. Otis understood that. Andy understood that. So, yes, I do think they would agree that you’re an amazing leader.”

Casey’s lips wobbled as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. Severide wiped them away. He felt better than he had when he first entered the cemetery. He was able to see things more clearly, think of how much he loved being Captain and all the good that had been done with his team and 51. Bad was, unfortunately, part of the job. And while he would never fully get rid of that feeling that he was responsible, that silver of his past that haunted him, he could mix it with the good, with those he loved and were there for him, and keep it as the sorrow from his past. He needed to work on himself, of course, help himself heal, but didn’t they all? 

Severide leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss to Casey’s lips. “Are you ready to go home? The car is just down the path.”

Casey nodded and Severide helped him stand. They didn’t look back at Andy’s grave, but if they did, they would have seen how the moon seemed to glimmer just a bit more brightly off it, the soft sound of Andy’s laughter seemingly floating by on the breeze.

Chapter Text

“Hey guys, don’t forget tomorrow is garbage day. No one took it out last week and it’s seriously overflowing,” Kidd said as she walked into the main room, fastening an earring in her left ear as she was getting ready for her shift at Molly’s. 

Normally Severide and Casey would join her, drink a few beers and hang out with the rest of 51, but Casey had told his boyfriend he wanted to stay in that night, make some popcorn and watch a movie. They hadn’t had a lot of quiet time lately, especially on shift since things had been hectic lately, so Casey was really looking forward to a quiet night in.

Severide didn’t move from where he was sprawled on the couch, legs in Casey’s lap. Casey nudged one of his legs. 

“Wasn’t it your turn to take the garbage out last week?”

Severide kept his eyes on the tv, but pursed his lips slightly. 

“That doesn’t ring a bell,” he said finally, but the smile that curved his lips up said otherwise. 

“Right,” Casey said, drawing out the word before he turned back to Kidd. She rolled her eyes as she grabbed her purse.

“Alright, I’m out. I don’t care who takes it out, just as long as it’s done. I’ll be checking after my shift and if it’s still there it’ll be in your bed shortly after!” She threatened as she walked through the door and shut it without another word. 

Casey exchanged a wide eyed glance with Severide. 

“She’s serious,” his boyfriend said.

Casey nodded. “Yup, going. It’s my turn anyway.”

Casey moved Severide’s legs off his lap and walked over to the kitchen where he collected last week's garbage along with their current bag. He scrunched his face as a waft of rotting food hit his nostrils and quickly tied the bag.

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Casey said as he opened the door and held it with his leg as he grabbed the two bulging bags. 

“Hurry back, you’re missing the movie,” Severide called from the couch, still lounged back with the popcorn bowl now on his chest. 

Casey smiled as he shut the door. The night was clear, the moon shining brightly and illuminating the world, the weather warm even with the sun set. He made his way toward the back of the building where the tenants placed their garbage for the truck that came in the early morning. With their two bags joined, Casey wiped his hands on his pants and turned to head back. He only took a few steps before he heard a stick snap in the woods behind the parking lot. He froze and looked around but didn’t see anyone in the shadows. 

“Hello?” He called, eyes roaming the empty parking lot. There was no movement in the night, not even a squirrel scrounging for acorns. So Casey started walking again, this time a bit faster. 

A bottle skittering to his right had Casey whipping to look, head swivelling as he strained to see what was making these noises. Still, he didn’t see anything. He turned back to head into the building when something struck his head from behind and his body crumpled, his world turning dark before he hit the ground. 

Pain pounded in Casey’s head as he regained consciousness. He groaned as he tried to move, trying to clutch the back of his aching head, but he found that his hands were tied behind his back, his shoulders pulled painfully. He tried to move his legs next and found that his feet were also tied together. He opened his eyes as panic laced through him, adrenaline spiking, heart racing in his chest as his breathing picked up, but everything was dark. It was then that he felt a rough piece of cloth tied around his face, shielding his eyes. He was blindfolded. 

His body was suddenly thrown to the side, impacting something painfully, and things slowly began to make sense. He was tied up inside the trunk of a car. The sound of the engine, the tires crunching on the ground, all registering in his brain as his senses came back online. 

Casey wasn’t sure how long they had already been driving and while he tried to keep track now that he was conscious, it was almost impossible. His mind was still jumbled from being hit and everything was still mixed in his throbbing brain. 

He cried out as the car slammed to a stop and he was thrown into the back of the trunk, his hands getting crushed behind him. Then cool, fresh air rushed in as the trunk was opened and someone was hauling him up by his arms, his shoulders straining painfully in their sockets. 

The hands dragged him forward, Casey’s legs catching on the ground as he tried to walk but couldn’t get his footing. A metal door squeaked loudly, its joints creaking as it swung open, and then the ground beneath Casey’s feet changed. It was hard and smooth like concrete. The atmosphere was also different wherever he was being brought. It was damp inside, drips echoing off the walls, and the air smelled stale. 

Something screeched as it was dragged along the floor and then Casey was thrown back where he landed heavily in a chair. Before he could do anything else, his hands were freed, the cool metal of a knife slicing through his bonds, the backside of the knife pressing into his hands, before they were wrenched forward and tied to the arms of the chairs. The same process was repeated with his ankles on the legs of the chair. 

He flinched as plastic cinched his skin, digging into his flesh as his bonds were pulled as tight as they could go. He yanked against the restraints but they had no give. They felt thick, like industrial zip ties. 

The person in front of him backed away leaving Casey to tug at his bonds, the chair jumping as he tried to get himself free. 

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you. You’ll never break those. All you’ll do is injure yourself further.” The voice paused before it said, “Actually, you’ll just be doing my job for me, so carry on.”

Casey stilled, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The voice, deep and throaty, chuckled. “What don’t I want from you, Mr. Casey?”

His breathing paused as he took that in. This person knew who he was, meaning he had taken him for a reason and not as some random sick act.

“Oh yes,” the man said, closer this time. “I know exactly who you are, Captain. ”

Casey’s jaw clenched. This guy was playing games with him.

“And you had to kidnap me? If you have an issue with me, my office door is always open.”

The air changed in front of him and then his blindfold was yanked off, causing Casey to squint at the bright light that was shining directly in his face. He blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust, but everything was awash in shadow.

The light moved and Casey blinked the spots out of his eyes. When they reopened, he jerked back as a man appeared directly in front of him, so close his stale breath puffed into the blonde’s face.

“Recognize me Captain?” The man asked as he stepped back, spinning in a slow circle with his arms outstretched. 

Casey narrowed his eyes, scanning the man’s face, trying to find any connection in his brain, any hint of recognition, but there was none. 

“I have no idea who you are,” Casey said and the man stopped, a shadow of anger crossing over his face.

“Listen, whatever it is you want, I’m sure we can work something out. Just let me go and-” 

The man lunged with no warning, gathering Casey’s shirt in his hands as he pushed him back so the chair tipped on its back two legs. 

“Oh no. There will be no letting you go Mr. Casey. I have you right where I want you,” he seethed, eyes bright with a deep fury, lips curled as he stared at Casey, unblinking. 

He dropped the chair, jarring Casey, as he stepped back, hands raised. 

“How rude of me. I haven’t even introduced myself yet. My name is Jonathan Yates.”

Casey frowned as something sparked in the back of his mind. Why did he know that name?

The man smiled, cruel and dark. “Ah, you do remember me. I knew you couldn’t forget. Wouldn’t throw away my son’s life like that even if you’re the reason he’s dead.”

His brain lit up with recognition at Jonathan’s words. Yates. That was how he knew this man. A few weeks ago, 51 had been called to a fire in a residential house. When they had arrived, it had been cooking, no people in sight. They had searched the house as fast as they could, inhibited by the severity of the fire, and Casey had found a boy hiding under a table in the kitchen. The kitchen had been swathed in flames, smoke hot and thick in the air, and the kid had been badly burned. He had rushed the child out to 61 as quickly as he could, Brett and Foster working as fast as they could to save the boy’s life, but they had found out later that he had died in the hospital. His name was David Yates. The parents had arrived on scene just as the boy was being taken away. Apparently they had been at a play while their son was home alone, so Casey had only gotten a brief look at them before they rushed to follow the ambulance. 

“You son was David,” Casey said softly and watched as Jonathan stiffened, his face growing sad. 

“David was a gift. He was smart, athletic, funny. You couldn’t ask for a better kid. He was my only son and you,” Jonathan turned to him, that dark fury back in his eyes, “because of you, he’s dead. Your job is to save people, your precious CFD prides itself on that, yet you let my David burn. You murdered him,” he seethed, spit flying from his lips as he paced back and forth.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, I really am. The hardest calls are those with kids who are hurt. We all hoped David would pull through, but there was nothing we could have done. The fire spread too quickly and was too hot. We did everything we could to get to your son.”

“Liar!” Jonathan screamed and then swung his fist, connecting with Casey’s jaw. His head snapped back as hot pain flared through his skull. As he straightened, he moved his tongue over his teeth where Jonathan’s knuckles had connected. Copper coated his tongue and slid down his throat. 

Casey turned his head to the side and spit before he faced the man again.

“I’m not lying. We did everything we could. I did everything I could to save your son. There was nothing anyone could do.”

Jonathan set his wild eyes on Casey and his heart sank as he realized there would be no reasoning with him. He was too far gone, the death of his son too much to handle. He was compensating by turning it on Casey even though there was no logic to it. 

“You lie. All of you, you’re all just a bunch of liars. You say you’re sorry, tell me everything was done to save David, but he died. You all failed. His blood is on your hands.”

He ran his hands through his hair roughly, causing it to spike up in multiple directions. Then he laughed, grating and hollow like nails on a chalkboard, as his head dropped and he looked at Casey. 

“Then, my wife leaves me. Tells me David’s death changed me, that I’m delusional. But she doesn’t understand! She bought your lies! You poisoned her! Turned her against me! Took her away like you took David away from me.” 

Casey swallowed as he took a deep breath. There would be no reasoning with Jonathan. He had to come up with a way to escalate the situation, buy himself time so he could figure out how he was going to get out of here. 

“Okay, you got us,” Casey started softly, hesitantly, as he kept his eyes trained on Jonathan. “We could have saved your son, but we failed. I’m sorry. I’ll tell your wife, make her understand. Maybe-” 

Jonathan cut him off as he punched him again, Casey’s vision whiting out briefly as pain blossomed across his face, blood spurting steadily from his, most likely, broken nose. 

“No! It’s too late for that. Your time to admit the truth has gone. Now, you’re mine.”

Casey’s eyes widened as his breathing picked up, his wrists aching as he pulled uselessly at his bonds, the plastic digging further into his skin and drawing blood. 

It seemed that Jonathan was done talking. He moved toward Casey slowly, hands at waist level, fists clenched. Casey did everything he could to try and escape, words spilling from his lips as he said anything that came to mind, trying anything to stop Jonathan, but nothing worked. There was murder in the man’s eyes, a cold darkness with nothing sparked behind them. Then he lunged.

He punched Casey again, head snapping to the side, ears ringing, vision blurring, as lightning zipped through his face and neck. This time, he didn’t stop. He grabbed Casey’s face in one hand, squeezing tightly as he lowered his face close to the blonde. Then he threw him back and kicked out, foot slamming into Casey’s chest as he flew back, landing with a loud thud on his back, feet tipped in the air since he was still firmly attached to the chair. Casey tried to suck in air, but his ribs screamed, lungs failing to rise. Then his chair was pulled upright, teeth rattling as the chair legs slammed back onto the floor. Jonathan grinned and the last thing Casey saw was his fist flying toward his face again before everything went black. 

When Casey woke the second time, his head was splitting, pain lancing through him with every breath. His chest was on fire, breathing raspy. He opened his eyes with difficulty, his left eye opening half way and his right not opening at all, swollen and blood crusted. As he tried to focus on his surroundings, he noticed that he was currently alone. It gave him the opportunity to search his surroundings, try and figure out where he was being held. 

It was dark, the only light coming from the industrial work light that had been set up near where Casey was tied, the light that had blinded him after his blindfold had been yanked off. From what he could see, his surroundings were metal and concrete, like he was in some kind of warehouse. 

He pulled at his bonds again but cursed when they didn’t budge. All it managed to do was cause more pain to shoot through him, his head spinning wildly. 

A metallic clang echoed through the space, and despite the pain it caused, Casey jerked his head toward the noise, squinting with his half good eye into the darkness. It was followed by the sound of liquid hitting the floor, sloshing in a jug as the sound traveled through the room. Casey still couldn’t see anything, but a smell hit his nose, sharp and acrid, and Casey coughed, his chest tight with pain as it jarred his ribs. 

Out of the darkness, Jonathan walked back into view, shadowed by the construction light, and it was then that Casey saw the jug in his hands. It was some type of chemical, the hazard symbols clear on the bottle. 

Jonathan saw where he was looking and held it up. “Pool chemicals. You’d be surprised how many things are sold in hardware stores that can catch fire.”

He threw the jug to the side and then walked over to Casey’s right before he grabbed something else. The red container glowed bright in the light and Casey’s heart thundered in his chest. Gasoline. 

“But I’m not taking any chances. You’re going to burn just like my son did.”

Casey had no time to react before Gasoline was being poured over him, stinging his eyes with the fumes, the liquid setting his cuts ablaze, head spinning as the strong smell assaulted every part of his body.

He clenched his eyes shut and heard as more liquid sloshed against the floor. Then there was a soft clicking noise and a whump as heat and light exploded near the blonde. Smoke began to fill the room quickly, choking Casey as it clung to his body, filled his lungs with poison and stung his eyes. 

Casey struggled harder than he had before, completely pushing aside the rippling pain that threatened to consume him. He was going to die strapped to this chair if he didn’t get out. 

As he pulled, trying to kick out his legs and free them, the chair rocked and he ended up toppling backwards again. He sucked in cool air now that he was so close to the ground, his head clearing ever so slightly. He needed to get away from the flames, the fiery tendrils so close that they almost kissed the soles of his feet. 

He rocked back and forth widely and succeeded in getting the chair to move backwards, earning him some time. He thought he heard the familiar sounds of sirens as he rocked, but he quickly dismissed the thought. The fire wouldn’t be visible from the outside yet and no one else was in here. It was his mind, desperately willing the thought, the idea of rescue keeping him going. 

Casey kept rocking, his fight for life giving him enough energy to keep moving despite how badly he wanted to give up, succumbing to the pain that ravished him. But then a noise echoed through the warehouse, rising above the roar of the flames and the creaking of metal that was beginning to warp from the heat. Casey strained to listen. Was it Jonathan? Why would he have come back? To make sure that Casey was killed in the fire? He might just be crazy enough to put his life in danger to make sure his plan was carried out. 

The next thing the blonde knew, hands were on him, grabbing his arms and touching his legs. He writhed, trying to get away from the hands that were surely going to drag him into the flames. 

“No!” He coughed as he tried to kick out. Suddenly his legs were freed, no longer attached to the chair legs, and he took the opportunity to fully kick out, knees stiff from being locked into position for so long. He connected with something soft and felt a jolt of satisfaction. But then the person moved and they were suddenly next to him, hands back on his arms. 

“Casey!” The voice yelled, cutting through the panic and pain. Casey stilled immediately, chest heaving, as the voice cut to his core, covered him in a blanket of safety. No. That couldn’t be. He couldn’t be here. His brain was playing a sick trick on him. Or maybe it was Jonathan. But did it really matter? He was going to die here anyway. Having that beautiful voice be the last thing he heard sent a wave of calm through him as he let his body go slack, giving up. 

“Hang on Casey, I’m going to get you out of here,” his boyfriend said and Casey managed a weak smile. His brain was giving him one last moment of peace before he died. He shut his eyes and let the scenario play out, peaceful calm cooling him.

He was too far gone to connect what his body felt, his arms freed and body lifted off the ground. The flames and smoke grew hotter, his injuries flaring, but Casey just kept his eyes closed, holding tightly onto the voice of his boyfriend, the way his bright blue eyes shone in the sun.

He didn’t even notice when things changed, the air growing cool and clear, the smell of chemicals and gasoline lessened. It was only when a hand cupped his face that he opened his eyes, the one that would open anyway, and the blurry face of his boyfriend filled his  vision. 

Sev. He tried to say his name, tried to tell him how much he loved him, but he started coughing instead, body spasming as deep coughs wracked him. Something was placed on his face, a sharp prick in his arm, and then he was moving again. The world spun in dizzying circles above him and the last thing Casey saw was his boyfriend's face, pinched with worry, before he slipped back into nothingness. 

Casey sat up with a gasp, eyes popping open as he looked around, panic coursing through him. Jonathan. Where did he go? And what happened with the fire? Was he dead? The pain was still there but it was lessened significantly, a pleasant numbness replacing the heat that licked his body, the pulsating that skewed his thoughts. He blinked, his right eye still swollen shut but left eye more open, and saw that he was surrounded by white walls and was laying in a bed, a soft blanket pulled up to his middle. 

A door opened and Casey flinched as he watched the person walk in. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief, tears springing to his eyes as he recognized his boyfriend's face. So that was real? His boyfriend really had saved him?

When Severide saw that he was awake, he rushed over, shoving his phone in his pocket, before he grabbed Casey’s hand.

“Case, I’m so sorry. I wanted to be here when you woke up. I stepped out to take a call from CPD about your case.”

The tears brimmed and spilled over as Casey clutched at Severide’s hand, the beeping in the room a crescendo as his heart hammered in his chest.

“Is this real?” He asked softly and watched as Severide’s face crumpled in sadness, his eyes bright and full of life, so unlike those of Jonathan. 

“Yes, my love, this is real. I’m here. You’re okay. Everything’s okay now.”

A sob squeezed Casey’s throat, his chest clenching, and Severide pulled him into his arms, the familiar scent of his cologne filling Casey’s nose, stripping the deadly scent of gasoline and chemicals from his memories and replacing it with everything good in Casey’s life. 

Casey clutched desperately onto his boyfriend despite the pain in his ribs, fingers gripping the soft fabric of Severide’s shirt. When Sev pulled back, he cupped Casey’s face again like he had done when he pulled Casey from the burning building, making sure to be careful of the injuries that peppered the blonde’s face. 

“You saved me,” Casey whispered and Severide nodded, a tear tracing down his own cheek. 

“I was at the firehouse with Boden and the rest of 51 when the call came in for a burning warehouse. A homeless person saw a man running from the warehouse before he spotted some smoke and flagged down someone to call for help. I just knew that it was where you were being held, so I suited up and went in as soon as we got there. When I saw you tied to that chair on the ground… I’ve never been so afraid, Case. I thought I was too late.”

“You’d never let me die.”

“Never,” Severide said firmly as he squeezed Casey’s hands. “When you didn’t come back from bringing out the trash I knew something was wrong. I went down to investigate and there was blood in the parking lot and tire marks. I called CPD right away and I’ve been looking for you ever since. You were gone for over a day, Matty. A day where I wasn’t sure I would ever see you again.” He sucked in a breath and Casey shit his eyes as they brought their foreheads together, joining their bodies and souls together. “We tracked the make of the car through the tires to Jonathan Yates, but he left it abandoned in a parking lot on the other side of town. We knew he must have you somewhere in the city, someplace secluded, but there were so many places to check. But when that call came in, something in me told me that this was the place, that that is where I would find you. And I did. And I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

He bent down and gave Casey a whisper of a kiss against his lips, careful of his injuries, before he pulled back, warm hands still on the blonde’s face. “And they’re going to find the son of a bitch. He won’t get far. I’ll track him down myself if I have to.”

Casey nodded as a few more tears fell down his cheeks. “I love you,” he said, staring into those blue eyes that grounded him, filled him with love and kept him going even on his toughest days. 

“And I love you,” Severide said as he brushed another soft kiss over his lips. “More than you could ever know.”

Chapter Text

“Casey, can I see you for a moment?” Boden called as he peeked halfway out of his office door. Casey put the stack of papers he had been photocopying down and turned. 

“Sure, Chief,” he said as he walked over to the office and through the door. “What’s up?”

“Take a seat,” Boden said as he did the same, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“What can I do for you, Chief?” Casey asked as he sat, crossing one leg over the other. 

Boden took his glasses off and placed them on the table. “I just got word from headquarters that they’re sending someone down here with some equipment they’d like us to try out.”

“What kind of equipment?”

“A new SCBA system, including the mask.”

That should have been good news for the department. Their equipment was getting out of date, but Boden didn’t seem particularly enthused. 

“What’s the catch?”

Boden sighed and folded his hands in front of him. “The CFD is making changes behind closed doors, trying to cut costs where they can, and now they’re sending us new equipment to try? It doesn’t really match with their latest goals.”

“Right. You think they’d stoop low enough to get inferior gear?”

“I’m not sure. I’d like to believe they wouldn’t, but with people like Gorsch in office…” He trailed off but he didn’t need to say more. Gorsch’s actions said enough about the man's character. 

“Can we just accept the gear but then put it in storage?”

Boden shook his head, face pinched. “I wish, but I heard from Gorsch himself that he will personally be stopping by to see how the equipment is working.”

“And we’re already on his bad list,” Casey said as he realized where Boden was going. They were cornered here. One more wrong turn with Gorsuch and who knows what he’d do to 51.

“I’ll handle it, Chief. I know what’s going on so I’ll try out the gear and make sure to give an honest report back.”

Boden’s face relaxed a bit, but he still asked, “are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I got this.”

“Thank you Captain.”

Casey nodded and stood, giving Boden one last look, a shared moment of oh boy before he left the office and went back to his paperwork.

A little while later there had still been no calls. Casey was grabbing a refill on coffee when Cruz walked through the door.

“Hey Captain. I have a box for you. Some guy delivered it, said it was for Boden.”

Casey placed his mug on the counter and walked over, taking the box from Cruz. 

“Thanks.”

Cruz nodded and then headed back out the door to the squad table.

Casey took the box back to his quarters, placing it on the bed before he grabbed his swiss army knife and slit open the tape. Tossing the knife on the bed, he opened the flaps and looked at the contents inside. The SCBA looked innocent enough. Matte black plastic molding, clear mask, shiny and polished, a protective film covering the glass to protect it from scratches. 

He lifted it out of the box and was surprised by how light it was. Their current SCBAs were already heavy even without the oxygen tank, so to have a lighter model would relieve some of the strain on their shoulders and backs since the rest of their gear was also heavy.

The blonde turned it in his hands, examining every inch. Everything looked good. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

The bells went off overhead signalling all of 51 to a structure fire. Casey was about to put the SCBA back in the box, but hesitated. He was supposed to test it after all, what better time than now? So he grabbed his radio off of his desk and ran out the door to join the rest of 51.

On scene, Boden quickly took charge. He ordered Squad into the basement, Cruz and Kidd to vent the roof, and Otis, Mouch and Casey to search the top floor.

They all gathered at the door as they waited for the signal from Cruz and Kidd. When they got the all clear that the roof had been vented, they pulled their masks on, Casey pulling his new SCBA over his face, turned on their oxygen and went inside. Ducking from the intense heat and high flames, Severide led his Squad guys to the basement while Casey and his team did a quick search of the main floor before heading up the stairs. 

“Otis, take the room to the left, Mouch, take the right. I’ll take the room at the far end of the hall! This fire’s hot, do your sweep and get out right after!” Casey called over the fire’s roar. Both men nodded and made their way toward their rooms, crouched low, to do their sweep. Casey made his way down the hall. The door at the end was shut, so he straightened, turning as he pulled his way back and donkey kicked the door where it shattered at the hinges, falling to the ground. 

When Casey entered the room, he ducked low again, the smoke dark and thick in the room, and yelled, “fire department, call out!” When he heard no response, he checked under the bed, sweeping his arms over the covers, before he walked over to the closet and opened the door. Moving the hanging clothes, he moved on to the bathroom when he found it to be empty. The blonde had just pulled aside the shower curtain to check the tub when something popped near his head and a hissing noise filled his ears. 

Casey spun as he tried to locate where the noise was coming from. Then something popped up on his mask, a digital overlay that hadn’t been there before. It flashed red letting Casey know that his oxygen was running out fast. He cursed as he reached up and felt the tube that connected his oxygen tank to the mask and only felt its absence. The tube had broken and his oxygen was now leaking into the air, exactly where it didn’t need to be. Not only did the air have enough oxygen of its own, but pure oxygen was a fire’s jackpot. It would turn his pack into a fire breathing dragon and as cool as that might sound, it was not what Casey wanted to deal with while in an active fire scene. 

He pushed those thoughts aside. That wasn’t his main concern right now. What was, was the fact that in less than two minutes he’d have no air to breathe at all. 

Since the room was cleared, no victim to be found, Casey walked back into the bedroom as he reached up and tried to pry his mask off. While it wasn’t ideal to take his only protection from the heat and smoke off while he was still inside, the alternative was asphyxiation so smoke-filled air was the clear choice.  

Casey’s next problem came as he tried to unclip his mask. This new model came with buckles that strapped the mask in place and stopped it from flying off if the person wearing it were to fall. As the blonde fumbled with the buckles he heard a crack and found that they were stuck in place. No matter how hard he pulled, they wouldn’t budge. He was trapped in his mask that was officially out of air. 

He immediately slowed his breathing, taking as shallow breaths as possible to preserve what air remained, as he made his way through the room. But his mask began to fog now that the cool air wasn’t flowing, his hot breath clouding his view, and his chest began to tighten as he sucked desperately for air that simply wasn’t there. He wheezed, sucking in, but nothing happened. It felt like he was trapped in a vacuum. 

Casey toppled on his hands and knees, falling to his back, hands lifeless on his chest as he tried to suck in non-existent air. His vision tunneled in on him, ripples of black glazing his eyes, and then he knew nothing more. 

- - - - -*Severide’s POV* - - - - -

“Basement’s clear, everyone out!” Severide called to his team as he checked the last corner, pulling boxes out of the way to make sure no victim was hiding behind them. 

His team called back an affirmative and they made their way up the stairs. 

“Casey, what’s your status?” Severide called over the radio, making sure his boyfriend didn’t need any assistance with any potential victims he found. 

Severide frowned when there was no answer. Casey was also quick to communicate. 

When he exited the basement, he made his way to the front with his team, waving them outside while he turned toward the main staircase. He paused as someone came down the stairs, shapeless bodies in the smoke, and watched intently to see their face as they rounded the last steps. His heart sunk as he saw that it was Otis, Mouch close behind him.

“Where’s Casey?” Severide called as they set foot in the foyer. He saw Otis shake his head.

“I’m not sure. He told us to do our sweeps and get out. We haven’t seen him since he went into the far bedroom.”

A bad feeling creeped up Severide’s spine. Something had happened to Casey, he just knew it. 

“Alright, go outside, I’m going up to do a sweep for him.”

Otis nodded and he and Mouch continued out to the front door. Severide went up the stairs as quickly as he could, crouched as low as possible since the smoke was thick and black. They didn’t have much time. 

“Casey, call out!” Severide shouted as he walked down the hall, glancing into the different rooms as he passed them. He heard no response, but paused as another sound greeted him. Icy fear shot through him as the unmistakable wail of a PASS alarm reached his ears. 

“Casey!” He doubled his pace and made his way into the far bedroom. At first he didn’t see Casey, but the blinking red light of his PASS alarm caught Severide’s eye and he lunged to the side of the bed. 

Casey was sprawled on his back, head tilted to the side. He didn't see any injuries. So why had Casey collapsed? 

Severide yanked at Casey’s SCBA and frowned when it didn’t budge. Looking closer, he saw there were buckles attaching Casey’s mask to his gear. What the hell? 

He looked closer and noticed that all of Casey’s SCBA was different. Why did he have different gear on? But there was no time to question that now. He reached into one of his pockets and grabbed a small pair of cutters that he always carried on him and snipped the straps to the buckles. Throwing the tool to the side, he could retrieve them during overhaul, he ripped the mask off of Casey’s face. 

The blonde was unconscious, as Severide expected. He pushed fingers into his neck and felt a sluggish pulse, but Casey wasn’t breathing. His face was flushed, sweat dotting his brow from being trapped in the mask, and Severide’s blood ran cold. Casey’s oxygen had cut off for some reason. 

Severide pulled off his glove, throwing it somewhere to the side, and opened Casey’s turnout coat. With only his shirt beneath, the Squad lieutenant rubbed his knuckles into Casey’s sternum, pressing deep, desperately willing Casey to come to. Nothing happened at first, so Severide used his left hand to shake the blonde slightly, rubbing his knuckles hard into the blonde’s bony chest. He winced as he did so, knowing that Casey would be hunting after this, but his boyfriend's life was on the line. 

After a few more seconds of this, Casey shot up, sucking in a deep breath as his eyes flew open, scanning the room wildly. When they found Severide they paused and confusion melted into his face. 

“That’s it, Casey. Deep breaths. Nice and easy.”

Casey leaned his head back on the floor as his chest rose and fell sharply, body compensating from the lack of oxygen. Severide gave him a minute to get his bearings, but that was as much time as they had. The fire was getting hotter each second, the smoke thick and dark. 

“We need to move. Can you walk?”

“Yeah,” Casey grunted, clearing his throat. 

Severide reached up to give Casey his SCBA but the blonde reached up and grabbed his hands, knowing him too well. 

“No, keep it on. I’ll be fine.”

Severide wanted to protest but Casey pushed at his hands as he made his way to his feet. They didn’t have time to argue about this; the best thing Severide could do is get Casey out of here as quickly as possible. 

Grabbing onto Casey with a tight grip, Severide pulled them down low and guided his boyfriend out of the room and down the hall. They both raised their hands over their head, Severide using only one since the other was still holding his boyfriend, to try and shield themselves from the intense waves of heat that threatened to singe them as the fire roared overhead, spitting ash. 

Severide tugged Casey further and then they were on the stairs, only a few more steps until they would be at the front door. 

When they exited the house, smoke pillowing them like a wave, Severide pulled Casey onto the street where the blonde collapsed his knees, deep coughs wracking his frame, soot covering his face, ash in his hair. Severide pulled his mask off as Brett ran over, oxygen tank in hand.

“What happened?” She asked as she placed the plastic green mask over Casey’s face, delivering the much needed oxygen to his boyfriend. 

Severide kneeled next to Casey, one hand on his back as he patted it slightly. 

“No idea. Something happened with his mask and he wasn’t getting oxygen. I found him passed out on the floor.”

She nodded. “Okay, let’s get you to Med,” she said to Casey this time but the blonde shook his head.

“No, I’m fine.”

Brett didn’t look convinced, but it was clear Casey wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Alright fine,” she conceded and turned to Severide. “But make sure he finishes this oxygen treatment.”

Severide nodded and pushed Casey back so he was sitting flat on the ground. He took the moment to look over Casey, checking him for injuries. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

Casey shook his head, coughing slightly. While Severide didn’t like the fact that he had clearly inhaled a good amount of smoke, at least his breathing was already sounding better than when they first escaped the house. 

Then Boden was there, kneeling down next to them.

“Casey, what happened in there?”

Casey raised his head and locked bloodshot eyes with Boden. “I tried the new SCBA. When I was almost done sweeping the far bedroom the hose that attaches to the mask broke and cut off my oxygen. I tried to get my mask off but it was stuck. There was nothing I could do.”

Severide nodded as Boden looked at him. “I tried to reach Casey on his radio but I didn’t get a response. When I went up there I heard his PASS alarm and found him unconscious on the ground. When I tried to take his mask off, I noticed there were buckles that held the mask in place and they wouldn’t budge. I had to cut them off.”

Boden’s face darkened, his eyes hardening. “Buckles?”

Casey nodded. The whole system wouldn’t work unless they were fastened.”

“And this was the new gear headquarters sent over?”

Again, Casey nodded. 

Severide turned to his boyfriend sharply. “New gear?”

“Gorsch was overseeing new equipment being implemented at firehouses. Each house is obligated to report back after they try it out and Gorsch is overseeing our report personally.” 

Severide cursed. “They had you try out gear like a lab rat ? Did no one safety the gear before they handed it out?”

“That is exactly what I intend to find out. Will you two write a thorough report about this? I’m bringing this to the head of the department.”

“Of course Chief,” Severide said, Casey voicing his agreement too. Then Boden was gone, phone already to his ear. 

 Severide couldn’t help the anger that bubbled up, his ears practically blowing smoke.

Casey must have seen the change in his face since he pulled his mask off and put a hand to Severide’s cheek.

“Hey, put your mask back on, you need it.”

Casey smiled slightly. “I’m fine, Sev. Really.”

Severide blew out a breath, his body practically shaking with anger.

“They could have killed you with that gear. If I hadn’t gone looking for you, who knows what would have happened.”

Casey’s soft blue eyes roamed Severide’s face and he felt himself calm slightly as he looked into them, the feel of Casey’s hand on his face grounding him.

“But you were there. You’re always there.”

Severide leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend, soft at first but it deepened as all the emotions from the call passed between them. When they pulled back Casey said, “as long as you’re here, I’ll always be safe.”

And that was true. Severide would never let anything happen to his blonde, not on his watch.

Chapter Text

Casey shivered as he blew out a breath, air puffing in a fine mist in front of him, rubbing his hands together as he jumped on his toes, trying to keep warm. 

“Staying warm?” Severide asked, a smirk on his face as he walked by, face covered in soot and sweat dotting his forehead. He had just been in the burning building where he actually had the ability to sweat. Casey was certain all his blood was pooled in his organs, leaving his extremities numb as his body tried to survive in the frigid Chicago air.

“Ha ha,” he responded, shooting his boyfriend a dark look. Severide just laughed as he continued walking to the back of Squad, empty air bottle in his hand.

Casey had to stay outside of the scene since Boden wasn’t there, making him in charge. He had paced the snowy road as he directed 51 through the fire, giving orders and keeping track of all of his men. They had successfully managed to rescue all of the victims inside, so all that was left was for Engine to extinguish the fire before they could do overhaul and get back to the warm firehouse. 

Casey walked over to where Ritter was struggling with one of their hose lines, Herrmann next to him trying to help him figure it out.

“What’s the problem?” Casey asked as he approached the pair. Herrmann turned and threw up his hands in frustration.

“No idea, Captain! This nozzle isn't working right. Even when it’s fully open no water is coming out.”

“Here, I’ll show you,” Ritter said as he pushed the nozzle into a full open position. There was a moment where nothing happened, time seemingly as frozen as the ground beneath their feet, before the hose made a hollow gurgling noise and water sprayed full force, straight at Casey. 

The Captain was knocked flat on his back from the force of the hose, soaked with the cold water as it rushed into his eyes, nose and mouth. His breath left his lungs in a whoosh as he lay on the ground, blinking water out of his eyes, coughing. His helmet was no longer on his head, scattered somewhere on the ground. Icy-hot prickles erupted through his whole body as the arctic air froze the water that soaked every inch of him. He could feel his dripping strands of hair starting to stiffen as they froze instantly.

“Casey!” Herrmann called as he knelt next to him. “You okay?”

Casey nodded stiffly, his turnout coat and pants starting to freeze too, his limb going numb.

“H-help m-me up,” he stammered, teeth chattering. Herrmann reached down and gripped the Captain’s arms, pulling him to his feet and suddenly Severide was next to him, eyes wide.

“Case!”

“I-I’m ok-kay,” he said, teeth clacking together loudly, arms splayed since his clothes were so stiff, his joints turning to ice. Not only was the air cold, but the water in the hydrant was barely above the freezing point. 

“No you're not, you’re half frozen. Come on.”

Severide pulled Casey along since the blonde had trouble walking now that his body was icing over. They headed to the back of Squad where Sev opened the double doors and helped Casey inside. When Sev jumped up into the back, he paused and waved Tony over. 

“Go turn the heat on full blast!” he shouted before Tony made it all the way to the back of Squad. 

Not questioning an order from his lieutenant, Tony nodded and ran to the front of Squad where he jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key, turning the fan knob to full speed and the heat dial all the way up.

Severide shut the doors and immediately began stripping Casey from his half sodden, half frozen gear, removing all his layers down to Casey’s boxers. Casey was left shivering, feet feeling like they were frozen to the metal floor. The intense shivers wracked his body so violently that his vision blurred, teeth clacking together so hard he thought he might chip one of them.

Severide shrugged off his turnout coat and pants and helped Casey into them, the body heat immediately melting some of the ice in Casey’s bones. Then he pulled his toque over Casey’s head, making sure it was snug over his ears, before he wrapped a rescue blanket around the blonde’s shoulders. Casey gripped it tightly, pulling it close, as Severide pushed him onto one of the benches in the back of Squad, rubbing his hands up and down Casey’s arms to warm him up quicker.

“Thank you,” Casey whispered, teeth still chattering but less violently than before.

“Of course, Case. Just focus on getting warm. I don’t want you getting hypothermia.”

Casey nodded and leaned into Severide’s side as his boyfriend sat down next to him, arms wrapped tightly around him.

Back at the firehouse, Casey found himself in his office, a pair of grey sweatpants on and a CFD hoodie, but a deep chill still wracked his body, goosebumps prickled across his skin. He got into his bed, drawing the covers up to his neck, but he was still shivering, the cold etched deep into his body. 

Then his boyfriend appeared, opening his door and slipping inside, before he turned toward Casey.

“Still cold?”

Casey nodded, a shiver creeping up his spine for emphasis. 

Severide wasted no time as he walked over and pulled the covers up before he slipped into the single bed and pulled Casey close so that his back was against his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around the blonde and Casey sighed as his body warmth finally began to chase the chill that seemed stuck to him away. 

“Better?” His boyfriend asked as he drew him impossibly closer, tucking his leg over Casey’s. 

“Much,” Casey breathed, already feeling his eyelids grow heavy. They slipped shut and within minutes, Casey was fast asleep, the comforting warmth of his boyfriend next to him lulling him into content safety.

Chapter Text

“Listen up 51,” Boden said as he walked into the briefing room, the chattering voices immediately dying down as everyone turned in their seats to pay attention. 

Standing front and centre, Boden scanned the room. 

“Tomorrow after shift, the CFD will be hosting a charity event at our local outdoor ice rink. It’s to raise money for Chicago Hopes for Kids so I expect all of you to be there,” he said, stressing the last part as he shot a look at where Severide was standing at the back of the room next to Casey, leaning against the wall. 

Severide lifted his hands up halfway in surrender. “No problem, Chief.”

Boden gave him one last look before he nodded. “Alright, that’s all. You’re dismissed.”

The room exploded with screeching chairs and chatter as conversations were resumed. Casey turned to his boyfriend and smirked.

“I’m not going to have to drag you to this, will I?”

Severide shot him a look as they made their way out of the briefing room and down the hall to their quarters. “No, we’ll be there. It’s for kids, it goes without saying.”

Casey paused in the middle point between their offices before he gave his boyfriend a quick kiss.

“Good.” And then he turned and walked into his office to get his paperwork done. 

The next day, after a fairly tame shift, Severide and Casey were back at their apartment as they got ready for the charity event that started at 11 that morning. They needed to be there early, so after a quick breakfast at their favourite diner, the two of them had gone home to change and grab their skates before they were to head out again. 

“Did you get these sharpened?” Casey asked his boyfriend as he slipped his skates in the bag next to Severide’s.

His boyfriend nodded. “I got them done as soon as the first big freeze happened.”

“So my terrible skating skills can’t be blamed on inferior gear, huh?”

His boyfriend chuckled and walked over, wrapping his arms around Casey’s back. 

“You skate fine, Case. And I’ll be there to help if you need it.”

Casey sighed and pulled his boyfriend close, kissing him softly. “Okay, but if I fall, I’m blaming it on your lack of catching skills and not my skating ability.”

Severide laughed, the sound vibrating against Casey’s chest. “Deal.”

At the rink, Casey finished tying his skates, making sure to wrap the laces twice around his ankles before tying the final tight knot. With them secure, he pulled his CFD toque out of his bag and slipped it on his head before he tugged on his gloves. 

It was chilly today, the air having a slight bite to it, but with the proper gear you’d be nice and warm. Especially with the free hot chocolate that was being served by the side of the rink. Casey would definitely be getting some when they were done skating. 

Wobbling a bit as he stood for the first time in a while in his skates, Casey took a few steps and slowly began gaining confidence. He was walking pretty smoothly by the time he joined Severide by the side boards. His boyfriend smiled as he approached, body angled slightly toward the ice as he watched the few people already on the ice skate by. 

“You all ready to go?” Severide asked as he reached out his hand for Casey to take. Casey’s gloved hand closed around his boyfriends and they started making their way to the opening onto the ice. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll go slow at first. As soon as you get your rhythm I’ll let go and you can skate on your own.”

Severide was true to his word. The first few laps were slow, Severide holding Casey steady, letting him get his feet under him, as they went around the rink.

By their third lap, Casey was feeling a lot more confident, his skates gliding smoothly on the ice, his balance sturdy. He turned to his boyfriend with a wide smile.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this. Let me try on my own.”

“Yeah?”

Casey nodded enthusiastically and Severide grinned back, letting go of Casey’s hand. 

Stiff at first, Casey played it safe, shuffling his feet, his boyfriend right next to him, but when he didn’t fall, he started to take longer, smoother strides, until he was skating properly.

Severide pulled ahead and turned backwards, skating carefully so that he didn’t hit anyone, but facing Casey head on. 

“Look at you go!” His boyfriend exclaimed, a gap-toothed smile stretched across his face. 

Casey smiled back but then waved a hand at his boyfriend. “Go do some laps, I know you can skate a lot faster than this. I’ll be okay on my own.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Sev, I’ll be fine. Can’t you see how great I’m doing?”

Severide chuckled. “Right, of course. Okay, I’ll do some laps and then rejoin you.”

Then he was off, joining the outer circle of skaters who were going faster than those in the middle. 

Enjoying the time, Casey looked around the rink at all the skaters. The ice was now packed with all kinds of people; young kids, couples, teenagers, and everyone in between, skating and enjoying the day out for a good cause. 

He frowned, however, when he saw two teenage boys, most likely 16, skating recklessly around the rink, dodging people and weaving in and out, earning dirty looks from those they almost bumped into. They rounded the rink and were soon coming up behind Casey. He braced himself as they rushed by, cold air whipping Casey’s face as they squeezed between him and an older gentleman, skates crunching as they sliced through the ice. When they made another lap, Casey spotted his boyfriend on the other side of the rink. Severide shot them a look and Casey could tell he was annoyed, along with a lot of other people. Someone needed to kick them off the ice before they hurt someone. 

Casey tried to follow their movements, but lost sight of them as they rounded the rink behind him. He wasn’t able to look back and skate, too at risk for falling, so he only heard the commotion as it unfolded. There was a shout directly behind him and then the sharp sound of skates stopping suddenly, the spray of snow that followed, before there was a loud thunk and Casey’s feet were swept out from under him with great force. He saw the cloudy sky as he went flying back, his skated legs kicking up, arms outstretched behind him before he impacted the hard ice, his left hand hitting first, taking the brunt of the fall and he felt a pop before pain burst from his elbow, hot and sharp, before his butt hit, followed along with his back and then his head which glanced off the ice, causing his vision to blur and a ringing noise to fill his ears. The pain in his elbow faded to a dull throb as his head spun. He hadn’t smacked his head as hard as he could have on the ice since his body took most of the brunt of the fall, but the hit was still disorienting, pain pulsating through his skull. 

Air washed over him and then his boyfriend was kneeling next to him, mouth moving but Casey couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. It took a minute of deep breathing, Casey’s eyes clenched as he willed the world to stop spinning, before the ringing slowly dissipated and sounds rushed back in, the spiking pain in his head moving to a deep throb where it had impacted the ice. 

He reopened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend’s concerned face. Casey shifted on the ice, but groaned when he moved his left arm and hot pain shot from his elbow down to his fingertips in an electric surge. 

“Don’t move, Case.”

Casey sucked in a breath as he held his arm as still as he could, angled on his chest. 

“M’okay,” he said even as he winced.

“You could have a neck injury.”

“I barely hit my head on the ice.”

Severide scoffed. “Barely still means you hit your head, Case.”

“I only have a slight headache. It’s my arm that hurts.”

Severide frowned as he looked at Casey’s arms, gaze lingering on the left one that Casey had clutched to his chest.

“This one?” He asked as he touched it lightly. 

Casey nodded. “Can we get off the ice now? My butt is numb.”

Severide looked hesitant, but he reached up and slipped his fingers behind Casey’s neck and squeezed gently.

“That hurt?”

“No.”

He repeated the process, slowly going down Casey’s spine. When he was done and Casey had assured him nothing hurt, his boyfriend finally nodded and placed his hands behind Casey’s back, pushing him into a seated position. 

Upright, Casey looked around and saw that everyone on the rink had frozen where they were, watching the events unfold. Casey blushed slightly, embarrassed with the attention, but then he saw that there was someone else laying on the ground further down the ice. Looking closer, Casey recognized the sweater on the person and everything clicked. It was one of the teenage boys. He had fallen somehow and had slid into Casey, knocking him flat on his ass as he slid along the ice. 

While he didn’t like seeing that the kid was hurt, even though the kid had caused the accident from his own reckless actions, at least some of the attention was away from Casey.

When he was on his feet, left arm still tucked tightly against his chest, Severide pushed Casey off the ice so he didn’t even need to move his feet. When they reached the edge, Casey stepped off the ice, Severide’s firm grip on his good arm, and then his boyfriend led him over to a nearby bench where he helped him sit. 

Severide crouched in front of him, placing Casey’s skated foot between his knees as he started to untie his laces.

“I think someone called an ambulance,” he said as he pulled the first skate off. 

Casey shook his head. “I don’t need an ambulance. No need to waste resources, we can drive the hospital ourselves.”

Severide raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you admit you need a hospital?”

Casey rolled his eyes and gestured to his left arm. “For this, not for my head. My head is fine.”

Severide huffed out a breath. “Of course.” But then his gaze softened as he winced slightly, looking at Casey's injured arm. 

“Is it broken?”

“I don’t think so. I felt a pop when I landed on it. I think my elbow might be dislocated.”

Severide nodded as he pulled the other skate off. “X-ray will tell us for sure. And you will be getting your head checked out so don’t even try to brush that off.”

Casey sighed but didn’t try to argue since Severide was the most stubborn person he knew. It would be easier to let them look at his head than go against what his boyfriend wanted. And they were going to the hospital anyway.

Severide pulled Casey’s boots from under the bench where the blonde had left them and then pulled them onto his feet, tying the laces since Casey only had one good arm.

“Thank you,” Casey said as Severide stood and then helped him stand again, keeping one hand firmly on Casey’s back. 

“You’re welcome, Case,” he replied softly, steering them toward the parking lot. “Now let’s go get you fixed up.”

Chapter Text

Casey smiled, stretching his legs under the covers, arms tucked underneath his pillow, as Severide leaned down and kissed him.

“Enjoy your time in bed while I go slave away at work,” Severide said as he kissed him again, a smile pressing into Casey’s lips.

“I know, poor you. Having to go to work and do a job that you love.”

Severide pulled back, chuckling. 

“Yeah, yeah. But it’s not nearly as fun when you’re gone,” he said, pouting playfully. 

“Trust me, I’d much rather be on shift than going to this CFD Captain’s conference.”

Casey had been invited, with the strong guidelines that he had to attend even if it was “optional”, to an annual conference for all of the Captain’s in the CFD. It was located, funnily enough, an hour outside of Chicago and was two days of listening to guest speakers, workshops, and group training. While it sounded absolutely enlightening, Casey would much rather be joining his boyfriend on shift where he didn’t have to sit in a room of white shirts all day. 

Severide scrunched his face. “On second thought, you might have it worse.”

Casey laughed and pushed his hands against Severide’s chest. “Get going before you’re late Lieutenant.”

Severide beamed and moved toward their bedroom door, but before he went fully through it he paused and saluted Casey. “Aye, aye, Captain.” 

His boyfriend had already turned and walked away, his laughter echoing from near the front door, by the time Casey threw the pillow, right where Severide’s head had been. 

Check in for the conference was at noon so Casey didn’t have to leave until 10:45 to give him a bit of extra wiggle room. So, the blonde took his time getting up. When he finally did, he made himself some coffee, then some breakfast, before he took a long shower. When that was all done, he got dressed, packed his bag for the one night stay, and finally it was time to leave. 

Grabbing his keys, he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door, making sure to lock up before he bounded down the stairs to his truck. 

Driving through the city, Casey was looking forward to getting on the back roads once he passed the city lines. The downtown traffic was always congested, filled with people speeding, weaving in and out, in an attempt to get to their destination a whole minute or two faster. And the stop and go motions of the traffic, getting stuck at one red light from the next, got tiring quickly. 

Bringing his truck to a stop in the left lane as another light turned to red, Casey sat back and stretched, watching the people in the car in front of him, two women, dance to whatever song was blaring on their radio. Casey smiled slightly. At least some people were enjoying their city drive.

The light turned green above them and the first cars in both lanes moved off. Casey took his foot off his break and let his truck slowly creep forward, keeping a good distance from the car in front of him. He noticed a young girl jumping up and down next to a guy who was making balloon animals, her mom paying for the balloon dog in the man’s hands, and smiled at how excited she was at something so simple. 

Just as the girl reached up to take the balloon animal from the man, a huge toothy grin on her face, the world exploded on Casey’s left, glass shards imploding on him, slicing his skin, as the world spun, a veil of white blinding Casey as powder filled the cabin and pain assaulted multiple parts of his body. Then, just as abruptly as it started, Casey’s truck slammed into something and stopped on a dime, whipping Casey’s body again, his seatbelt pressing painfully on his chest. 

Casey sat stock still as he tried to process what had just happened. His breath came in quick bursts, his heart racing, as adrenalin flooded Casey’s body, his hands shaking uncontrollably. The powder dissipated slowly as the air bags that had deployed deflated and his view of the world came back.

The left side of his truck was crumpled inward, the window shattered, and the cause of the glass that had rained on him just seconds before. His hood was crumpled, blocking most of his view, but he could see smoke billowing out from under it, rattles and hisses coming from the engine. As he looked to the left again, he noticed a car, heavily damaged in the front, the airbags deployed behind the windshield, and put two and two together. He had been t-boned, his truck spun through the intersection before it impacted something and came to a stop. He wasn’t sure what that was until he heard a crackling noise and his heart dropped into his stomach, the sound something not unfamiliar to him. While he couldn’t see where they were, he knew somewhere around his truck were downed power lines. He had hit a telephone pole, making this situation that more dangerous. 

Looking forward again, careful where he moved since his truck could be electrically charged, Casey reached his right arm up and pulled out his key, cutting the ignition to his truck. He winced slightly, his body jarred and stiff from the hit, and then took stalk of his other injuries. 

His face burned in different places where glass had sliced his skin, a deeper slice above his eyebrow steadily bleeding and dripping blood down the side of his face. His neck was stiff, most likely whiplash, but it didn’t hurt too bad. He hadn’t hit his head, the airbag saving him, but it had definitely been rattled, a steady headache blossoming behind his eyes. If he had a concussion, it was minor. Wiggling his toes, he found that his feet didn’t hurt, same with his legs, but when he moved his left arm, pain cascaded from the tips of his fingers to his elbows. He sucked in a breath and spared a glance at the limb. His wrist had a large bump protruding from the same side as his pinky, the whole hand already swelling. It was definitely broken. Other than that, and some chest pain from the seatbelt, he had made it out okay. Now he just needed to get out of here, without getting electrocuted. 

- - - - - Severide’s POV - - - - - - 

Severide looked at the clock and smiled, seeing the time. It was just after 11 now, Casey would be heading to his conference. He would miss his boyfriend, but at least Casey would be home the next night and he wouldn’t have to sleep in their bed without his blonde. Ever since they had moved in, Severide had trouble sleeping without the familiar presence of Casey by his side. 

The Squad Lieutenant turned back to his paperwork, the seemingly endless pile that crossed his desk, when the bells went off. 

Squad 3, Truck 81, Ambulance 61, Car Accident, Intersection at Randolph Street West and Morgan Street North.

Jumping up, Severide jogged to the apparatus floor, slipping into his gear before he hopped into Squad and Tony took off, sirens blaring.

Tony honked the horn as they approached the intersection, already lit up with police cars blocking the road and directing traffic away, giving them a clear path. 

Now that they were close, Severide could see the sparks showering the air from a downed power line. 

“Main, this is Squad 3. I need the power shut off at the intersection of Randolph West and Morgan North.”

“Copy that Squad 3, estimated time 10 minutes until shut off.”

“Watch out for the active power lines until Main gets them turned off,” Severide called to his team, turning in his seat. “Secure the scene where you can and check on the victims. Soon as we’re clear, we’ll get them out.”

“Copy that Lieutenant,” his team echoed back and Severide nodded, putting his helmet on his head as Tony rolled to a stop. 

Severide jumped out as soon as they were still, scanning the scene to see what they were dealing with. The car to the left, a black mustang, was clear from the power lines. The cables, swirled like black snakes, seemed to be focused around the truck that had also been the one to hit the pole. It looked like the truck had been going straight before the car had slammed into the left side, sending the truck careening into the pole. 

Kidd was filling in for Casey on Truck, so that made Severide the one in charge of the scene since he held a hire rank with more years of experience. 

“Truck! You extricate the victims in the car, make sure you stay clear of the power lines. Squad will get the truck once the power is shut off,” he called out and watched as 51 nodded, exploding into action.

It was then that Severide turned fully toward the truck for the first time since he got on scene. It took a second for his eyes to connect what he was seeing to what he knew, but a horrible sense of dread crept up on him, his mouth as dry as cotton, as the wires in his brain connected. Casey. 

Severide rounded the truck, calling out, “that’s Casey’s truck!” Normally obvious due to his contractor stickers on both sides, Casey had removed those recently since they were faded and old. He was currently waiting for the new ones to come in the mail, so his truck was bare until then. It had hidden the fact that this was Casey’s truck until Severide noticed the familiar racks on the back and had confirmed his fears with Casey’s license plate. 

He couldn’t get too close because of the wires that spit sparks, jumping on the ground as the electricity surged from the frayed ends, but he moved toward the front where he was able to see through the driver’s window, more accurately, lack of window now since it had been blown out in the crash. 

Even from this distance, Severide could see that Casey was conscious, back pressed against his seat, blood streaming from a wound in the side of his head, as he kept as still as possible. Good. He knew about the electrical lines. 

Smoke billowed from the front of Casey’s truck and Severide frowned, eyes roaming the scene. There was no way they could get to it if a fire broke out until the power was cut. They would risk getting electrocuted otherwise and that would do Casey no good.

“Cruz, Capp!” He called and the two heads swivelled in his direction, faces pinched in more concern than normal since Casey was involved in this crash. “Grab the fire extinguishers, jaws, c-collar and backboard! As soon as the power is off, Capp you monitor the hood, Cruz you come with me to secure Casey and get him out.”

They nodded and turned to run back toward Squad to get the items. Severide kept a close eye on his boyfriend, each moment that went by feeling like an eternity.

Finally, Main’s voice crackled through his radio just as the electrical buzz died down. “Power’s out Squad 3. You’re clear to approach.”

“Thank you,” Severide muttered as he ran over to Casey’s driver’s side, grabbing on to the broken window ledge as he took a close look at his boyfriend. 

“Case! I’m here. How bad are you hurt?”

“Hey Sev,” Casey said softly, turning his head slightly to look at Severide. “I think I’m going to miss my conference.” 

Severide choked out a laugh, a myriad of emotions flooding him. “Looks like it, but I think you have a bigger issue right now.”

Severide reached up and touched the area where Casey’s head was bleeding. Luckily it didn’t look too deep, but it would probably need a few stitches. 

“Besides the cut on your head, what other injuries do you have?”

Casey swallowed, wincing slightly. “My neck is a bit sore, but my left wrist is broken.”

Severide leaned in further and looked down at Casey’s lap where his arm rested. It was indeed broken, a large bump sticking out on the left, the swelling making his hand almost twice the size it should be. 

“Okay, don’t move. I’m going to put a c-collar on you and then we’re going to get you on a backboard and out of here. That sound good to you?”

“Yeah,” Casey said and Severide saw a tear slip down his cheek. 

“It’s okay Case,” Severide said as he placed a gentle hand on Casey’s shoulder. “You’re going to be okay.”

Cruz appeared next to him and passed over the c-collar. Severide reached into the truck and fastened it around Casey’s neck, making sure to keep his spine straight as he moved Casey’s head forward slightly. 

He helped Casey sit back and then immediately grabbed the jaws from Cruz, moving quickly as he placed it at the crumpled door’s hinge. The metal screeched as the jaws crunched. Before he was even halfway through the first hinge, the hood ignited in a ball of flames, smoke pouring into the cabin. Severide heard Capp blast the fire extinguisher, getting the flames to die down, but they needed to work fast. The fire could ignite any number of flammable fluids in the car. They needed to get Casey out now. 

As he cut through the first, Severide immediately started on the hinge below, tension tightening in his spine as time seemed to move in slow motion. At last, he cut through and Cruz immediately moved in, halligan at the ready. He pushed it in and pulled, the door popping off with a metallic clunk. Severide grabbed the door and tossed it clear before he took the blackboard and moved toward Casey. He pulled Casey’s belt off and moved toward the seat. Cruz stepped in and held Casey in position as Severide pulled the lever and lowered the seat, allowing him to slide the blackboard into place. They pivoted Casey, sliding him on the board, and pulled him out in a fluid motion. 

A gurney was wheeled close, 61 busy with the victims in the car, and they placed Casey on it before he was wheeled away. Severide followed, putting Cruz in charge of Squad, before he hopped in with the ambulance.

The paramedic taped a square of gauze to Casey’s head before he asked him a few questions. When Casey had answered, the paramedic inserted an IV and gave him some pain meds before he went and sat in his chair to fill out some preliminary paperwork, allowing Severide to slide next to Casey. 

“What happened?” Severide asked softly as he took Casey’s right hand in his own, squeezing softly.

“Car came out of nowhere. I had the green and it just came flying through. I had no time to react.”

“Probably distracted,” Severide muttered angrily. They were seeing an increasing number of distracted driving related crashes nowadays. 

After a moment, Severide turned back to Casey and smiled. “If you wanted to get out of that conference you could have just played hooky. This is a bit extreme, but I will give it to you, it’s effective.”

Casey snorted softly. “What if this was an excuse to spend more time with you?”

“Oh the old car crash rescue scenario? Risky, since it's a gamble who gets called to the scene, but it seems to have worked in your favour.”

Casey chuckled this time but it ended with a groan. “Don’t make me laugh, my whole body hurts.”

“Sorry,” he said, wincing in sympathy as he rubbed his thumb over Casey’s hand. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Casey said softly, turning his head to look Severide in the eyes. 

“There’s nowhere else I’d be.”

Chapter Text

“I’ll see you in a few hours?”

Severide nodded as he leaned against his car, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. They had just gotten off shift and while Casey was heading home, his boyfriend was heading to a meeting with a potential boat-repair client since the spring weather was slowly melting in the heat of summer. The mornings were still cool, but by the afternoon, the sun scorched the earth, calling to the plants as they bloomed in vibrant shades of green.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be gone long. We’ll have plenty of time to make it to dinner before the movie tonight.”

“Good. Now go have fun with your vintage boat. I’ll see you at home.”

Severide smirked and pressed a quick kiss to Casey’s lips before he turned and opened his back door, throwing his bag inside. Casey tossed one more quick wave before he walked over to his truck and made his way back to their apartment. 

Casey rubbed his eyes as he walked through the main doors to the apartment building, turning up the stairs without seeing them since he had walked this path so many times. 

He definitely needed more coffee. They had had a late call last night that took them almost until the end of their shift. 

Placing his keys in the lock to their door, Casey slipped inside and shrugged off his duffel as he slid off his boots. It was only when he had hung up his coat that something clicked in his tired mind. 

The way his key felt as he turned it in the lock was different. He turned and stared at the door, as if it would give him answers. Had the lock already been open? Sev wasn’t home, his designated parking spot was empty. And Casey knew for a fact that they had locked the door before shift the previous morning. 

A loud crash from somewhere inside in their bedroom, the sound of glass shattering and skittering across their hardwood floors, had Casey spinning on his heels, eyes wide and heart thumping loudly in his ears as he scanned their apartment. 

He almost brushed it off, tried to tell himself that they left a window open, it was just the wind that knocked something over, but then something thunked and confirmed Casey’s worst fears. He wasn’t alone. 

Getting low like he was in an active fire, Casey ducked into the kitchen and slowly opened the top drawer, so it wouldn’t make any noise, and grabbed the first knife he could find, a large steak knife, so that he would have something to defend himself with. Then he slid next to the island and peered around toward the living room. After a moment, a person dressed in all black crept out, looking around the room as they walked, a large bag in their right hand. 

Casey stayed low, the knife clutched firmly in his hand but at his side. He didn’t want to use it, just show that he could defend himself if he had to. 

When he was positioned behind the intruder, he stood, and against better judgement, said, “put the bag down.”

The thief spun, surprise making his eyes go wide as he stared at Casey. The bag dropped on his shoulder, revealing some of the contents inside. Casey didn’t get a good look, but something gold and shiny on top caught his eye. It was Benny’s medal, something that Severide valued more than anything else in the apartment. They could replace laptops and watches, but not this medal. It was one of a kind. 

Thinking fast to deescalate the situation, he said, “Give me the medal and you can go. I won’t call the cops. I just want the medal.”

A crease formed between the guy’s eyes as he backed up a step, eying Casey warily.

“What?”

Casey held his hands up in surrender, the knife still clutched in his right hand. He made a show of placing it on the island, bringing his, now free, hands into view. 

“Give me the medal and you can go free. Take whatever else you want, you just can’t have that.”

The Captain knew it was crazy to be negotiating with a thief, stupid even, but he couldn’t let that medal be stolen, most likely never to be recovered. He couldn’t face Sev after knowing that he was the one that let it get away. 

The guy, who Casey could see was actually a lot younger than he originally thought, hesitated, looking down at the bag. It seemed like he was actually considering it, hands reaching toward the opening when a new voice spoke behind Casey. 

“What the hell are you doing talking to him? Idiot boy.”

Casey spun but all he saw was a blur of black clothing, the strong scent of something he didn’t recognize in the moment, before fiery hot pain bloomed in his stomach. His hands clutched at the area, feeling something hard, before he was pushed to the ground, the fall igniting the flame in his gut and causing it to spread like acid. He heard the stomping of boots as the two thieves ran out the door, but he only had enough strength to lift his head and peer at his abdomen. His eyes went wide, breaths shallow, as he stared at the hilt of the very knife he had pulled from the drawer when he arrived home. The second guy had stabbed him. 

His hands shook as they hovered next to the knife, slippery with his blood. He knew he needed help, needed to grab his phone and call someone, call Sev, but he had left his phone in his jacket pocket. 

The blonde cursed softly and tried to move, but cried out and fell back when the knife shifted inside him, blood gushing from the movement. That wasn’t an option. 

As he lay there, his breathing fast and shallow, heart pounding in his chest, thundering in his ears, Casey knew he was in trouble. His mind was starting to go fuzzy like tv static, his thoughts wandering, and the pain . It consumed him, swelling with each breath, seizing all control, all thought. 

Sweat slicked his skin and his hands thunked to the floor as his arms felt leaden. A thought crossed his foggy mind, the word shock rattling in his mind, but he didn’t know what to do with that, how that could help him. All he knew was how alone he was; the pain threatening to consume him whole with its fiery burn until no part of him was left. 

When grey edged into Casey’s vision, his ears filled with a distorted ringing, he welcomed it, welcomed the cold numbness that followed and allowed himself to be swallowed by it completely into empty oblivion. 

- - - - Sev’s POV - - - - - - -

Severide frowned as he checked his phone again, the blank screen mocking him. He had texted Casey after his meeting to tell him how it went and that he would be home soon, but so far he’d heard nothing back from the blonde. While it wasn’t too out of the ordinary, Casey was usually good about answering him.

He put his phone back in his pocket as his name was called, thanking the girl at the counter as she handed him the brown paper bag. Severide had decided to stop by his and Casey’s favourite sandwich shop to pick them up some lunch and celebrate the fact that he had gotten the boat restoration job.

When he got to the apartment, he slid out of the car, food bag in one hand, duffel slung over his other shoulder, and locked his car. He looked over to Casey’s spot and saw that his truck was there, meaning he should be home. It was possible he got caught up in one of his home renovation projects. The last time Severide had checked in on that, his boyfriend was tinkering with something in their bathroom. He was a man who could never sit still, but he enjoyed the work and that was all that mattered to Severide. 

As he turned down their hallway, Severide caught a glimpse of their front door and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as a sinking feeling crept up in him. Was their door open?

Slowing his steps, Severide approached quietly. When he got to their door, he saw that it was, for a fact, cracked open slightly, bright light spilling into the dark hallway from their apartment. Turning so his back was to the door, Severide pushed the door open slightly, following its movements as he peered inside. When he didn’t see anything amiss, he pushed the door open further so that he was standing in their entrance.

“Hello?” he called, only second guessing that decision after the world left his mouth. If someone was in here, what was he going to do? Alerting them to his presence would only take away his leverage. But if he made enough sound the neighbours would hear and hopefully call the police if things went south, so he called out again. “Who’s there?”

Silence answered him so he decided to push the door open all the way, shutting it softly behind him with his foot. 

He crept forward, food bag still in hand, as his eyes swept the room. When he was halfway into the living room, something dark on the floor by the island caught his eyes. A shoe? When he walked closer he saw that it was a boot, a boot that he recognized, saw at his front door every day, and it was connected to a body. Casey. 

Severide dropped the food, throwing his duffel off to the side as he rushed to where Casey was sprawled on the floor, one leg at an angle, his hands red and lifeless at his sides. The blonde was surrounded by a pool of blood, stark against the kitchen floor. His eyes roamed up his boyfriend’s body with horror and he swore his heart stopped when he spotted the knife sticking out of his boyfriend's abdomen. 

His knees cracked against the floor as he landed next to Casey’s head, careful of the pool of blood. His hands grabbed Casey’s pale face, skin cold and clammy beneath his fingers. No.

He refused to believe it was too late. Grabbing his phone out of his pocket with shaking fingers, Severide dialled 911, telling them what happened and giving their address before he hung up and threw the phone somewhere on the floor by the fridge. 

“Come on, Case. Don’t do this to me,” he said, back at the blonde’s side, hands touching his face, fingers in his soft hair. “Don’t you die on me.”

- - - - - - 

There was dried blood under his nails. Severide realized this as he clasped his hands together, leg bouncing on the floor with bottled up anxiety. It felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, teetering, one push from the breeze about to send him over, yet he never fell. Casey had been rushed into surgery, alive but in critical condition, and Severide had heard nothing since. That was two hours ago. It felt like a lifetime. How was it only a few hours that he had been talking with his newest client? Picking up lunch for him and Casey to enjoy? How had things gone so bad so quickly? 

Not caring about the blood, Severide placed his face into his palms, fingers squeezing his head as tears burned his eyes. He couldn’t even call anyone since he had left his phone on the floor in the flurry of events that followed when the paramedics had arrived. But who would he call anyway? Casey didn’t have any family- well family that he cared about. Him and his sister weren’t close and his mom was in the wind, radio silent for years now. Of course 51 was a type of family to Casey, but Severide couldn’t stomach making that phone call to Boden or anyone else from the house. It would make everything real and if Matt didn’t make it…

He sat up abruptly and inhaled a sharp breath. He wouldn’t think like that, couldn’t think like that. Matt would be okay. He had to be. Severide’s world would come crumbling down if he wasn’t and the lieutenant wasn’t sure he would ever be able to recover. What was a life without Matt in it? Nothing.

- - - - 

The clock ticked timelessly on the wall, its hands a sinister smile as they spun, trapping him in the worst moment of his life with no end. 

He had stopped keeping track of the passing hours a while ago, letting his body fall into a numb void as he waited for any scrap of news. Each time a doctor walked into the waiting room his heart began thundering in his chest, emotions reaching a crescendo, only for the doctor to be there for someone else. After a few repeated cycles of this, Severide had shut himself off from everything and everyone around him, safe in the numbness, the emptiness that would be life without Casey in it.

So when a doctor walked in, clipboard in hand, and read off a name, it took a few calls for Severide to decipher what he said, shattering the shell he had built around himself.

“Family of Matthew Casey?”

Severide was up like a rocket, blood rushing in his body from sitting too long, a dizzy spell washing over him, but he pushed through it, feet heavy as they walked his body over to the doctor. 

“I’m his boyfriend,” he said, voice raspy and quiet.

“Yes, right. If you could please follow me.”

Severide reached out and clutched the man’s sleeve. He knew he shouldn’t do that, but he wasn’t thinking, his mind only had one trail of thought. “Is he alive?”

The doctor looked at the hand gripping the fabric of his sleeve tightly, wrinkling it, a displeased look crossing his face, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he kept his mask of professional calm on as he repeated, “please, if you just come with me, I-”

“Is. He. Alive?”

Severide punctuated each word, voice like ice, barely breathing as he stared at the doctor with unblinking eyes.

The doctor sighed, but saw that Severide wasn’t going to let this go because, really, fuck that. Tell him if his boyfriend had made it through surgery! 

“Yes, Mr. Casey made it through the surgery and is now in the ICU for recovery.”

Severide’s legs turned to rubber, his body shaking as he released his grip on the doctor’s sleeve. He sucked in a breath as he placed his hands on his thighs, bending slightly as a wave of relieved dizziness washed through him. He couldn’t help the manic smile that lit up his face, unshed tears from earlier rolling down his cheeks. 

“This is why I was trying to tell you in my office,” the doctor said as he watched Severide. 

The Squad Lieutenant straightened as anger coursed through him. What was this guy's deal? It made him want to clock him, just one swift hit to the nose. The doctor would never see it coming. But he had Casey to think about. Getting kicked out of the hospital was the last thing he needed. So Severide blew out a breath through his nose, jaw clenched as he managed to ask, “what room?”

“Don’t you want to hear what I have to say about Mr. Casey’s case? I’ll ask you again to come to my office.”

“Listen,” Severide started, fist clenched at his side, daring him to throw that punch, but he held back. “I really don’t give a flying fuck what you have to say. My boyfriend. Where is he?”

The doctor’s face pinched, an angry flush colouring his otherwise dull face, but all he said was, “517.”

Without another glance, Severide turned and started walking down the hall, following the signs to the ICU and then toward room 517. With each step his anger at the doctor faded as the sadness and worry crept back in. 

When he reached the correct room, he paused at the glass, peering in at his boyfriend. Casey was propped up slightly, face as pale as the pillow beneath his head, his golden blonde hair stark against his skin, an oxygen cannula under his nose and a mix of lines running from him to his IV that was hung next to his bed. 

It broke Severide’s heart seeing him like this, but it also instilled hope in him. Casey was breathing, his heart was beating, he was alive. And that was more than Severide could ever hope for. 

He jumped slightly when a nurse in purple scrubs popped up next to him. She was short, her thick brown hair tied in a bun at the top of her head, but she had a friendly face.

“Are you related to Mr. Casey?” She asked, voice soft and welcoming, so unlike that of Doctor Douche he had just encountered. 

Severide drew his gaze from Casey and nodded. “Matt,” he said, knowing Casey hated being referred to as ‘Mr.’ Casey since it reminded him too much of his dad.

“Matt, of course.” She smiled warmly. “How are you related?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Severide whispered and looked back through the glass window.

The nurse placed a gentle hand on his arm, her face still friendly, but with an undertone of sadness. “I’m so sorry that you’re going through this. I know how hard times like this can be, but Matt’s prognosis is looking good. And it always helps to have loved ones by the patient's side. I find that love is one of the most powerful emotions when it comes to healing. Where there’s love, there’s hope, and in hope comes strength.”

Severide turned back to face the nurse, a watery smile on his face. He grasped a hand over hers. 

“Thank you.”

She nodded and then gestured toward Casey’s room. “Would you like to visit your boyfriend…” She trailed off, not knowing his name.

“Kelly,” he supplied, and she smiled.

“Kelly. I’m Laura. Now go ahead inside. If you need anything, just press the call button and I’ll come as soon as I can.”

Severide thanked her again and then opened the door, the rush of cool air, soft whirls, and beeps greeting him.

He approached the bed slowly, as if Casey was a sleeping child he was trying not to disturb. 

Severide sat in the chair next to the bed and just let his eyes roam over Casey’s face, the way his chest rose and fell, the soft beeping of his heart on the cardiac monitor. He let himself accept that this was real; Casey was hurt, but he was also alive. He had stayed with him.

Fingers trembling slightly, Severide reached out and grasped Casey’s hand, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his fingers. Then he reached further and trailed his fingers down Casey’s face, thumb brushing over Casey’s cheek.

“Thank you,” he whispered to his blonde, head lowered. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Casey shifted beneath his fingers and Severide pulled back, watching Casey’s face intently. The blonde’s head moved before his nose scrunched, the way it always did when he was waking up, and then his brilliant blue eyes opened.

“Case,” Severide said softly, hands back on his face, the urge to touch him too great. 

Casey’s confusion was clear at first, the way his eyes roamed frantically around the room and then over Severide’s face, but then something dark crept into them and Severide knew that Casey remembered what had happened.

“You know where you are?” He asked and Casey nodded, rasping, “hospital.”

Severide nodded before he turned to the nearby table where a cup of ice chips were and a spoon. He grabbed the items and helped spoon some into Casey’s mouth, watching the blonde suck on them gently as he put the cup and spoon back on the table.

“You remember what happened,” Severide said, not a question since he had seen the look on his boyfriend’s face. 

Casey nodded again and Severide’s heart clenched as he saw tears pool in his eyes, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Hey,” Severide said softly, wiping them away with his thumb. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Casey shook his head, sniffing softly before he spoke again. “I lost your medal.”

Severide paused as he looked at Casey, brows furrowing. 

“What?”

Your medal,” Casey said again, licking his lips as a few more tears escaped. “The thief had it in his bag and I tried to get it back, but I couldn’t. It was your dads.” The blonde’s lips wobbled as more tears spilled down his cheeks. 

“Hey, no, Case,” Severide said as he pulled the blonde into an embrace, careful of his abdomen. Casey’s face was pressed tightly into his shoulder, muffled sobs escaping his lips. 

“No Case, hey, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay. Don’t pull your stitches. Everything’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about,” Severide murmured, rubbing his hand up and down on Casey’s back. 

After a minute, Casey pulled back and Severide wiped away the remaining tears, his hand cupping Casey’s jaw. 

“You seriously tried to reason with an intruder for my dad’s medal?”

Casey nodded, eyes wide and sad. 

“What am I going to do with you, Case? I don’t care about some medal. I care about you. You almost died because of what you did.”

“I know, it was stupid,” Casey said, voice shaking. “But I saw it in his bag and I couldn’t just let him take it. I know how much it means to you. I told him he could take whatever he wanted and leave, no cops, just as long as he gave me the medal.”

Severide looked at his boyfriend and felt a rush of love and sadness for his blonde. The lengths that he would go for him, even if it put his life on the line. 

“Aw, Case. You shouldn’t have done that. I really appreciate it, but your life means more to me than anything else in the world.”

He pulled Casey’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently. Casey smiled slightly.

“He was just a kid- the thief,” he amended when Severide looked at him, confused. “And I honestly think he was going to give it to me.”

Severide frowned. “But then he stabbed you?”

“What? No. There was another guy in there that I didn’t know about. He came out and when I turned that was when he stabbed me.”

“There were two of them?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see their faces?”

Casey began to fiddle with the blanket on his lap. “I saw the kid’s face, but not the older man’s.”

“What did the kid look like?” Severide asked, already compiling a mental note of what he could tell CPD.

Casey hesitated before he said, “I don’t know, like a kid in high school. He was young. I think he’s caught up in a bad situation. He didn’t hurt me at all. He actually looked terrified, especially when the man spoke.”

Of course Casey felt for the kid, it was who the blonde was. But if the kid was like Casey said, it seemed like it was the older man they needed to get. Over the years on the job, Severide had seen his fair share of kids who ended up in bad situations due to relatives. It wasn’t their fault. So Severide decided to focus on the man, get any information from Casey that he could to help track him down. 

“Did he say anything useful?” 

“No, he was mad at the kid for talking with me even though I was the one talking. The kid was just standing there. He seemed so lost, so scared…” Casey took a breath and then made eye contact with Severide. “Then the man stabbed me and they ran out.”

Anger bristled at Severide and he wished he had punched that arrogant doctor earlier. It would have helped get some of the tension out, release some of the anger that was building inside him like steam in a kettle, his whistling point quickly approaching. He took a calming breath and focused back on Casey. 

“Is there anything you can think of? Anything that would help nail this guy?”

Casey thought for a moment, his gaze going distant as he recalled the moment in the apartment, but then a look crossed his face.

“What?” Severide prompted, knowing that look. Casey had remembered something. 

“There is something,” Casey said slowly, sliding his gaze to meet Severide’s. “There was a smell. It was so strong, but at the moment I couldn’t place it.”

“But you can now.” Another statement since he knew his boyfriend well enough to read his face.

Casey smiled slightly, his eyes brightening. “Coal.”

One quick phone call to CPD from a hospital phone was all it took to set them on a path to find the guy who had stabbed Casey. Chicago was in the process of shutting down their coal plants, but there was still one left. It was downsized, but still had workers and the smell of coal was something that was extremely hard to get off the skin and out of clothes. If Casey had smelled coal, it was almost certain this guy worked there. 

A few hours later, Casey sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed, Laura came and told Severide he had a phone call. When he answered, it was Halstead on the line.

“We got him.”  

Severide gripped the phone tighter in his hand. 

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Turns out the kid with him was the guy’s son. Apparently he was forcing him into the business. Kid didn’t like that so he gave a full confession, told us everything we needed to know to book him. He also gave us a medal and said to say sorry for taking it. Does that mean anything to you?”

Severide smiled and looked down the hall towards Casey’s hospital room.

“Yes it does.”

Chapter Text

“No Herrmann, I don’t think you should buy a timeshare in Florida,” Kidd said, clearly exasperated as she took a sip of her coffee. So far the calls had been slow and it was already approaching late afternoon. The lack of calls and this conversation obviously had her patience with Herrmann quickly fading. 

Casey smirked, hiding it by taking a bit of his sandwich as he watched the two of them talk further down the long table.

“Why? This could be a great investment opportunity! The guy I was talking to said it’s the steal of a century and he gave me a great price.”

“Yeah, that’s because he was playing you, Herrmann. He wants the commission money. He will say anything as long as it gets you interested in whatever bogus he’s selling.” 

Herrmann waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t you worry. I have excellent people reading skills. This is a solid deal.”

“Oy vey,” Kidd muttered as she rubbed her temples. 

Otis walked into the common room, empty mug in hand as he beelined for the coffee pot. He glanced at Kidd and laughed. “What’s up with her?”

“Herrmann was just telling her about his plan to buy a timeshare in Florida,” Casey said, no longer able to contain the smile on his face as he watched this play out. 

Otis paused mid pour before he set the pot down and slowly looked at the older fireman. “Herrmann, please tell me that’s a joke.”

Herrmann threw up his hands. “Why does everyone think I’m kidding? This is a legitimate business opportunity!” 

Otis opened his mouth and then closed it again. Then he raised a hand, finger pointed and opened it again, but then shut it and turned, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. He was just as exasperated as Kidd. 

The bells rang above, calling out, “ Squad 3, Truck 81, Engine 51, structure fire, 737 Michigan Avenue.”

“Saved by the bells,” Casey said with a laugh as they all got up from the table. 

“Thank God,” Kidd said as they jogged to the apparatus floor. “I couldn’t handle any more timeshare talk.”

Suited up, 51 jumped into their respective apparatuses and then they were all off, sirens and lights announcing their presence as they joined the afternoon Chicago traffic.

When they rolled up on scene, the first thing Casey noticed was that the fire must be well contained since there was only some smoke pouring from the, weirdly enough, broken front windows and he couldn’t see any flames. But the closer he looked, the more rundown the house appeared. Someone hadn’y looked after the building for a while.

“Electrical fire?” Kidd asked as she pulled Truck over to the side of the street, making room for 51 to park by the hydrant. 

“Seems like it,” Casey said as he placed his helmet on his head. It had all the signs of one. Electrical fires usually started in the wall, the first sign that something was wrong coming from the smoke that would fill the house, the flames only bursting from the walls when the fire had grown significantly.

When 51 was gathered on the street, looking at the house, an older woman using a cane walked over to them. Casey met her half way since she seemed to have some mobility issues. 

“Were you the one to call us ma’am?”

“Yes, I was. I was out for my afternoon stroll and I noticed the smoke.”

“You did a good thing, ma’am,” he said and she smiled. 

“Do you know if anyone’s home?”

“The house is empty, has been for a while. There were some miscreants living in it before, always getting into trouble, partying into the late hours of the night. One day the police came and took them away and it’s been abandoned since.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful,” Casey said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She nodded, clearly satisfied, and turned back to walk down the street, presumably back home. 

“Alright, 51, listen up,” Casey called as he turned toward his team. “I’ve been told that this house has been abandoned for a bit now, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t squatters inside. Squad,” he dictated, turning toward his boyfriend, “you do a  sweep of the house, make sure it’s clear.” His boyfriend nodded and turned to his team, barking his own orders as he geared up. 

“81, we’re on fire duty. Kidd, Otis, you’re with me. Bring the heat scanners so we can locate where the fire is. Herrmann, you get ready to put a line on it.” 

His team nodded and Casey jogged toward Truck where he grabbed a heat scanner and his halligan before meeting up with Severide at the front door. With everyone ready, Severide turned and kicked the door in, and they all rushed inside. The smoke was pretty thick as it floated through the house, a hazy veil as they navigated the run down structure, but there were no flames in sight. 

Severide had Squad split up. Half of them went upstairs while Severide took Capp into the basement to do a sweep. 

“No smoke in the basement, Casey” Severide called over the radio after a minute. 

“Copy that, Severide”

“The smoke’s pretty light up here, Captain,” Cruz added, confirming Casey’s hunch. The fire was somewhere in the walls on the main floor. 

With this information, Casey was able to formulate the best plan for his team. “Kidd you go left, Otis right. I’ll head into the kitchen. Let me know what you find.”

They both nodded and all three of them set off, heat scanners in front of them as they swept the device over the walls. After a minute, Kidd called out, “over here!” and Casey and Otis redirected to meet her. She was in a living room, or the space that used to be the living room. Now it only held a sofa that was falling apart, stuffing all over the floor, and a broken lamp. But as soon as Casey walked into the room he knew that this is where the fire had started. The far wall was charred and bubbled, flames starting to spill from the top where it met the ceiling, smoke thick and black.

“Bring the line in Herrmann. Farthest room on the south corner, main floor.”

“Copy that, Casey. Heading in now.”

When Herrmann entered with Ritter, Casey, Kidd, and Otis used their halligans to break a large hole in the wall, dodging flames as they spit high into the air, fire crackling as it met fresh oxygen, igniting the wall. 

With the hole big enough, they backed out of the way and watched as Herrmann opened the nozzle, a steady stream of water hitting the wall, steam hissing as they worked to put the fire out. After a few minutes, and a healthy dousing of water, they turned the nozzle off. The wall was black and sodden, smoke still wafting lazily through the air, but there were no more flames. 

“Keep an eye on that, make sure the hot spots don’t reignite,” Casey instructed. “81, let’s check the house, make sure there's no more fire in any of the walls.”

When they walked back into the foyer, Severide came out of the basement, Cruz and Tony descending the stairs. 

“All clear?” Casey asked and both teams nodded. The old woman had been right. The house was empty. 

“Kidd you take the upstairs, check for any hot spots in the walls. Otis you take the main floor. I’ll head into the basement.”

“Got it Captain," they said, and moved up the stairs and down the hall.

“I’ll join you,” Severide said, sliding next to Casey as he walked down the hall after Otis, stopping in front of the basement door. 

Casey nodded, a small smile on his face. Severide always took any moment he could to join him on calls. It always made Casey’s chest flutter happily even though they had been dating for more than a year now.

In the basement, both he and Severide removed their SCBA masks since the smoke was non-existent down here. Then Severide walked over to one of the far walls while Casey turned in a slow circle in the center of the floor as he searched the walls with the heat scanner, looking for any spikes in temperature. On three of the walls, there was nothing. But the South wall, the one under the living room, was hot. It didn’t look active fire hot, but looks could be deceiving. 

Casey clipped the device to his turnout coat and walked over to the wall, halligan in hand. 

“Find something?” Severide asked, still over by the far wall, looking around at the ground, toeing things with his boot.

“Maybe. This wall’s hot but it was directly under the fire. I’m going to hit a few holes into it to make sure there’s no active fire. What are you getting into over there?”

“There’s all kinds of junk over here. Broken glass and what looks like needle caps. I wonder what went on in this house.”

“That old lady said the people who used to live here were always causing trouble, partying all hours of the night until they got taken away by the police and left this place abandoned. Wouldn't surprise me if they were into drugs.” 

Severide snorted. “You’d think the fire would have broken out while they were living here then instead of when the place was abandoned.” 

“You’d think,” Casey agreed as he turned toward the wall and struck with his halligan. The drywall cracked but didn’t open fully, so Casey pulled back and swung again, hard, and felt the tip of his halligan break through. As it did so, an explosion of white power burst from the hole, showering Casey and obscuring his view as a slight floral scent hit his nose. The blonde dove back, landing flat on his ass as he scrambled to push himself away from the unknown substance with his legs, his halligan clattering on the concrete floor as it went flying from his hand.

“Case!” Severide called, and Casey whirled, throwing up a hand.

“Don’t!” He coughed, some of the power making its way into his lungs. “Stay back. We don’t know what that is.”

Severide paused in his tracks, eyes wide as he stared at Casey and then the powder still floating from the hole. 

A bitter taste hit Casey’s tongue from the trace amounts that must have found its way inside his mouth and nose and cold dread washed over the firefighter. Floral scent. Bitter taste. They had been taught the basics for identifying drugs in the case of an overdose where they needed to know what the victim took. All signs pointed at this being cocaine. 

Casey spit on the floor, trying to get rid of the taste and the drug from his mouth, not wanting to swallow it. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, spitting again. “I think that was cocaine,” he said as he turned and pushed himself into a standing position, facing Severide. 

His boyfriend’s eyes grew even wider as he, too, let out a curse. Then he reached for his radio. 

“Main, this is Squad 3. We need an ambulance at 737 Michigan Avenue. And alert CPD that drugs were found in the house.”

“Copy that Squad 3.”

Then Severide turned back to Casey. “Let’s go outside. You weren’t exposed to a huge amount so you should be fine, but you need to get checked out regardless.”

Casey nodded and walked over to the stairs, Severide following behind, a supportive hand on the blonde’s back. As they walked up the stairs, Casey noted that he felt okay so far. His heart was racing and his breathing was fast, but he didn’t think that was from the drugs. It was more likely from how freaked out he was; he had never been exposed to drugs, least of all cocaine. But Severide was probably right. He would be fine, wouldn’t he? He had barely inhaled any of the powder. 

He kept that thought in his mind as he walked down the hall toward the front door. But fear thundered through him as a strong wave of dizziness washed through him, his head going fuzzy as his hands and feet went numb. It happened so fast, reaching its peak in the blink of an eye. There was nothing he could do as the drugs took over his body.

Regardless, the blonde still tried to fight through it, staggering the last few steps out of the house and onto the paved path to the sidewalk. Only a handful of steps outside of the house, the numbness spread, a cold sweat breaking out over his entire body, and Casey’s body crumpled, breathing ragged and fast as he collapsed on his back, the world spinning above him, his thoughts scattered and disjointed. Things were blinking in and out, the world going dark and then back into focus, before his mind slipped completely, lost to the drugs.

- - - – Sev’s POV - - - - - 

Concerned for his boyfriend, Severide stayed close behind him, hand on the blonde’s back as they walked out of the house. But then Casey suddenly folded, body going completely lax with no time for Severide to react, as he crashed to the pavement below. 

Severide flew to his knees next to Casey, seeing how pale his boyfriend was, his skin clammy and cold, as his breaths came out in painful bursts, air wheezing in his chest as his body tried to suck in oxygen. He tilted Casey’s face back, the blonde’s eyes glazed as he stared at nothing and it was then that Severide noticed his pupils. They were pinprick, barely any black in his eyes, and cold dread sank in Severide’s gut. Casey was overdosing. 

“Oh my god, what happened?” Kidd called, running over from where she had been standing on the street, having apparently finished her overhaul of the top floor.

“Grab the jump bag!” Severide yelled, not having time to explain. Casey’s breathing was almost non-existent now, his pale lips turning blue. 

Kidd burst into action, turning on a dime and running over to Truck where she grabbed the bag and sprinted back to Severide in record time. As she slid to her knees next to Severide, she handed him the bag and he ripped it open, frantically searching for the naloxone all first responders carried with them in their jump bags. When he found it, he ripped it from the bag and broke off the seal. 

“Narcan?” Kidd asked, the shocked confusion clear in her voice. Severide didn’t say anything as he focused on administering the life-saving drug to Casey. He placed the plastic tip in the blonde’s nose and pressed the plunger, the narcan hissing as it dispensed. When he counted to five, he removed the now empty container and threw it into the grass, his eyes never leaving Casey’s spaced-out face. 

“If the fire’s out, get everyone out of the house,” Severide said, still watching Casey carefully. “There’s drugs in the basement. Casey got a face full.” 

Needing no further explanation, Kidd rose and started yelling out commands, letting 51 know about the hazard. 

Casey still didn’t react, even as Severide did a sternum rub, and Severide didn’t even know if he was breathing anymore. The lieutenant reached back into the bag, grabbing another container of Narcan and popping the seal before he administered it quickly, tossing this one aside when it was empty. He rubbed Casey’s sternum again, praying that he would respond to this dose. 

After a few painstakingly long seconds, Casey’s body jerked as he gasped, sucking in ragged breaths into his oxygen deprived body. Severide watched Casey’s face as the colour returned into it, the blonde’s eyes blinking rapidly as the Narcan worked to bring Casey into an acute withdrawal. The experience was jarring and confusing as the brain went from one end of the spectrum to the other. 

Just as quickly as the colour had come back into his cheeks, his lips turning pink, a green tint coloured Casey’s skin and Severide rushed to roll his boyfriend into recovery position as the blonde vomited, harsh heaves wracking his body. This was a common response to Narcan since it sent people into withdrawal. Severide had been expecting it, even if he hoped Casey wouldn’t have to suffer through it. But it meant that he wasn’t actively overdosing at the moment and that was what took priority. 

Just as the body-wracking heaves stopped, Severide heard the wail of the ambulance sirens and sent a silent thank you to the universe. He kept Casey on his side as the ambulance grew nearer, making sure to keep the blonde’s airways clear. 

Casey groaned from where he was positioned on the ground, mumbling something that Severide couldn’t understand. The lieutenant leaned down, placing a comforting hand on Casey’s head as he whispered, “it’s okay, Case. I’m here. You’re going to be okay.”

His touch and words seemed to calm the blonde and he relaxed under Severide’s touch. Then the ambulance pulled up and the paramedics rushed out, grabbing the stretcher from the back before they ran over. 

With Severide’s help, they got Casey on the stretcher, wasting no time as they wheeled Casey to the ambulance. Severide explained what happened, how he had administered two doses of Narcan and then hopped into the back of the ambulance with one of the paramedics before they were rushing to the hospital, lights and sirens blaring. Kidd knew what was going on. She could take charge of the scene, especially since she had passed her lieutenants test. Now all Severide had to focus on was Casey.

- - - - - - 

Casey had overdosed again when they were a minute from the hospital. The paramedic in the back with Severide had injected Casey with more naloxone into his IV that he had started and then they were at the hospital, his blonde whisked through the hospital doors to where the doctors could save his life. 

An hour later, Severide had been let into Casey’s room where they had him on constant surveillance now that they had controlled the overdose. 

His boyfriend had been confused, not understanding what had happened, how he had overdosed like that when he didn’t have a huge amount of contact with the drugs. Their questions had been answered an hour later when the doctor came in and shared Casey’s blood test results. It turned out that the cocaine had synthesized fentanyl in it, a drug 50 to 100 times more powerful than morphine and one of the number one causes of overdoses, especially in first responders. It was most common with police officers since they would come into contact with the drug when they busted someone with it in their possession. Casey had just been unfortunate enough to break through the wall where the previous junkie owners had stashed their supply, getting a face full of the poison. Without the Narcan, Casey would have been dead. The thought made Severide sick, how close one call came to killing his boyfriend and it hadn’t even been a fire. 

Casey was monitored overnight at the hospital and when a secondary blood test came back clear in the morning, he was released. 

Severide couldn’t help but hover, even when they were home, Casey lounging on the couch watching tv. 

When Casey caught Severide staring at him for the umpteenth time, he picked up the remote and turned off the tv, facing Severide. 

“You have to stop staring at me like I’m about to shatter into a million pieces, Sev. It’s putting me on edge.”

Severide shook his head, releasing a shaky breath. “Sorry. I don’t mean to do it, it’s just… I watched you fall, saw your lips turn blue as you struggled to breathe. You almost died .”

Casey’s face softened as he reached out a hand, clasping it over Severide’s shaking one.

“I know, but you were there and you saved me, like you always do.”

“But what if I wasn’t? What if you had gone into that basement alone? You could have-”

Casey cut him off. “But I didn’t,” he said, finishing Severide’s sentence. You could have died. “And I wasn’t,” he added, squeezing Severide’s hand. 

“It was just shitty luck. I mean what are the odds that the one wall I have to break down is hiding drugs ?”

“When it comes to you, I’d say pretty high.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “That’s dramatic. Anyway, all that matters is that I’m fine. We just have to move on, no point dwelling on things that could have happened.”

Severide sighed. “Yeah, I know. It was just hard to see you go through that.”

Casey’s gaze turned sad. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask to be subjected to fentanyl laced cocaine.” 

“I guess I can check that off my bucket list though,” Casey mused.

Severide shot Casey a look. “Overdosing?”

“What? No! Doing a hard drug.”

Severide blinked as he stared at his boyfriend blankly. “How is that any better?”

“Doesn’t that sound cool? ‘Yeah, I did cocaine once’.”

“Um, considering that it almost killed you ? No. That does not sound cool.”

“Well how else am I going to turn this into something that doesn’t just suck?”

“How about celebrating the fact that you’re alive, dumbass.” Severide shook his head, exasperated, but then he saw Casey’s face, the grin that told him Casey was just messing with him, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Oh, very funny,” Severide said as he pushed at Casey’s chest, the blonde chuckling. And Severide knew that his blonde would be okay. 

Chapter Text

The rain was coming down in sheets, saturating Chicago and causing everyone to retreat indoors. Those that had to brave the elements had their umbrellas turned up at the wind, hunched small as they battled the rain. 

Casey was happy to be warm and dry in his office. So far no calls had come through, but the blonde knew it was only a matter of time until they were called out. 

He heard his door creak open behind him as he faced the window and then the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. 

“Think if you stare hard enough the storm will let up?”

Casey turned and snorted at Severide who was leaning against the office door frame, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“Just dreading getting wet. There’s nothing worse than sodden turnout gear, it makes it so much heavier.”

Severide groaned. “No, don’t put that out there, you’ll-”

The bells cut him off and Severide shot Casey a look, the ‘ what was I saying?’ clear on his face, as they rang, the robotic voice starting to speak. 

When both Squad and Truck were called, Casey got up and squeezed past Severide, who was still glaring at him, as he made his way to the apparatus floor, hearing Severide join him after a few steps. He really shouldn’t have said anything. He had probably cursed the good luck they had been having. 

The fire was spitting from the windows when they arrived despite the heavy downpour, causing dark smoke to rise into the gray sky heavy with clouds. 

On the street, Casey had to blink the rain from his eyes as he squinted at the house, trying to get a good handle on the fire. 

Boden pulled up then, his car screeching to a halt and throwing up a spray of muddy street water, before he got out and put a hand up to block his face from the rain. 

He directed Severide, Casey, Kidd, Otis, and Capp into the house to do a quick sweep for victims since no one had come out of the house. 

When they had masked up, they headed into the smouldering house as they each branched out to search for any victims inside.

Severide and Capp went upstairs while Kidd, Otis, and Casey fanned out on the main floor. They had to duck low, the flames licking up the walls and across the ceiling, the hot air pressing heavily against their backs. 

“Fire department, call out!” Casey heard Kidd call from somewhere on his left. He strained to listen over the fire’s roar and the pounding of the rain outside, but didn’t hear anyone answer their call. 

As Casey walked down the hall, pausing to look into closets and under tables to make sure no kids were hiding, he noticed that the floors bowed slightly as he walked. He didn’t have time to process that thought, structure it into anything useful, as the fire flashed, a ball of flame bursting over his head as he threw his arms up to protect himself.

He heard the ceiling crackle above him, plaster mixing with the ash as it floated down on him, and knew that things were about to get out of hand. 

Crouched low, he grabbed his radio. “Fire’s getting out of hand Chief. I don’t think we have much time,” Casey informed as he continued forward, needing to finish the sweep so he and his team could get out.

“Copy Captain,” Boden responded and then addressed everyone over the radio. “51, you have two minutes max and then everyone needs to get out! No exceptions.” 

The team inside responded, letting Boden know they understood, and then Casey was in the back of the house. He rounded the end of the hall into what he supposed was the laundry room. There was a washer and dryer, but they were rusted, black mold taking over the inside of the washer drum. The floor was black with mold too, parts of the laminate peeling and cracked. 

There was an inlet at the back, however, where a kid could hide so Casey walked into the room, careful of where he stepped, as he scanned the small space. When he confirmed it was empty, he turned to head out when his radio crackled. 

“Ceiling’s not going to hold! Everyone out!” Severide barked and Casey’s adrenaline spiked, terror spiking in him as his boyfriend’s words, the time the ceiling had come down on him and almost killed him flashing to the forefront of his mind. 

He shook it off and then started forward, the ceiling groaning loudly above him. His foot came down on the floor in the middle of the room and then sank through to his knee, causing the blonde to stumble onto his left knee, his right leg trapped. He tried to pull his leg free, but his turnout pants were snagged on something and it wouldn’t budge. 

The ominous groaning above him grew, threatening to collapse at any moment. Casey tugged harder and when he got nowhere, made the move to call for help on his radio. A loud crack stopped him, the sound of splintering wood, before the floor fell out from under him and Casey plunged into darkness, his body colliding with the hard ground with bone-rattling force, the air knocked out of his lungs. Before he could even process what just happened, the building shook and thunder clapped over Casey’s head as the ceiling finally collapsed upstairs. Wood, drywall, and metal studs crashed onto the ground where Casey had just been standing.

Some of the debris made it through the hole his body had been sucked through, hitting the ground around Casey and bouncing off of the blonde’s body, bruising him with each hit. 

As the noise grew quiet, the debris settling, Casey realized that the debris made a splashing noise as it hit the ground and that the parts of his body that were pressed against the floor were soaked through. Wherever he had fallen was filled with a layer of water. 

It was also pitch black down here. Casey sat up, dripping water echoing through the space making it hard for him to tell how big the space was. He ripped off his SCBA and turned his flashlight strapped to his chest on and the beam pierced the darkness, illuminating a small strip and not revealing anything about where he was. 

Standing to his full height, Casey reached a hand up and felt his fingers brush the ceiling. He swept his light over the ceiling and saw that where he had fallen through the floor was now completely blocked by the ceiling collapse above. He wouldn’t be getting out that way. 

The light barely illuminating the dark space, Casey walked forward with his hands out as he groped for anything in the darkness. After a few steps, his hands met cool concrete as he reached the end of the room. 

There was no window anywhere down here, so it definitely wasn’t a basement. His best guess was that this was some kind of crawl space that had been meant for storage but had been covered up at some point, blocking all access.

It was then that Casey realized something else. The water that had only been a few inches deep before was now up to his ankles, each of his steps sloshing the water. The crawlspace was slowly filling with water and he had no way to get out. 

A new type of panic surged through him, one he hadn’t felt before. While he was used to situations getting dicey in his job, there was almost always a way out. Even when he was trapped that one time by the flames as Boden released the cannons, he had found that metal cabinet to shield him. Here, there was no such thing, Just him and an empty room that would soon turn into a watery tomb if he didn’t figure something out. 

He moved along the wall, keeping one hand on it so that he didn’t lose it, and suddenly his radio sprung to life, a voice filtering through, loud in the quiet space, making Casey jump. 

“-ere? Casey, respond!” It was Severide, his voice pitched and panicked. It sent a small wave of relief through Casey knowing that his boyfriend had gotten out before the ceiling collapsed, but a stronger wave surged through him at the hope of escape, the radio his only lifeline to the world above.

“Sev!” He called, his fingers cold and wet from the water squeezing the plastic button hard enough that the plastic squeaked. “I’m stuck in some sort of crawlspace. I need help! It’s filling with water!”

The water level was now above his knees and still steadily rising, making it hard to move through the space. Cold leached into his body as the icy water soaked him to the skin, a chill working its way up his spine. 

His radio spit static as the blonde stumbled a bit, away from where he had been standing when it came to life. There must only be a small spot of reception down here. He waded back and raised his radio as high as he could toward the ceiling and Severide’s voice blared strong, but broken by heavy bursts of static.

“-apped? You’re cut… out. Whe… you?”

“Basement!” Casey yelled, as if the volume of his voice would make it come through clearer, while also calling the space a basement since that was easier to understand. It got the point across. He was under the house and needed out, now. “Water rising! Need rescue!” 

He kept his sentences precise, choosing his words carefully so that hopefully the meaning would get through and Severide would understand that he needed help.

Severide responded, but it was so full of static that Casey couldn’t make anything out. Then his radio went dead, no amount of pressing the buttons bringing it back to life. Casey let it drop and prayed that his message had been understood. 

The water was now up to his hip, shivers wracking his body as the icy water drained all his energy, making his body grow heavy. 

He could barely move his legs as he tried to push through, slamming his hands on the ceiling, desperate to find any weak spot where he could break through and escape, but it was no use. It only drained his energy further so he stopped, lowering his hands to his side where they plunged into the water that was now at the level of his belly button. 

The blonde could do nothing as the water level continued to rise. He managed to find a spot in the dark where a wooden beam hung from the ceiling and he grabbed on, raising himself as close to the ceiling as he could. The water was to his shoulders, his sodden turnout coat threatening to drag him down. With one hand, he reached down and unzipped it under the water, shrugging it off as soon as it was free and feeling instant relief as the heavy piece of clothing fell away.

The realization that this might be it, that he may not get out of this afterall, washed over him in a numb wave. It was a weird kind of calm as his mind came to terms with the thought that he might die here. The panic faded, a morose finality settling over him, creeping into his bones and narrowing his thoughts. No longer frantically scattered, the water up to his chin, Casey thought about the things that brought him the most joy, the things that filled him with love and made everything right in his life. It turned out that that was one thing: Kelly. There was nothing else, no one else, as important to Casey as Kelly was. The time they had been together had been the best of his life, where he felt truly loved and cared for, listened to and important. Kelly always made him feel safe and secure, feel like his body was actually beautiful with the way his boyfriend’s eyes roamed over him as they laid naked in bed. Casey had never felt that way before and never would have without Kelly. His love. His life. And the last thing he wanted to think about as he took his final breaths. 

As the water rose almost to the top, only a few inches of space left, Casey tilted his head and sucked in deep breaths, over oxygenating his blood to buy him more time when it finally filled the room completely. He accepted the fact that he might die, but he was sure as hell going to fight until the very end. 

One final breath and Casey plunged into the icy water, his flashlight illuminating the space in front of him for a few seconds before it flickered and finally went out. It was just him and the dark now. 

Casey kicked and swam toward the wall he believed faced the outside corner of the house. He swam to the top and pounded his hands against the wall, fingernails scraping the concrete as he scrambled for any loose part of concrete. 

He wasn’t finding anything and was about to give up when vibrations shook the wall. Casey pressed his palms flat against the concrete and felt the vibrations again. This was it; this was his rescue, he just knew it. 

Casey blew out some of the air in his lungs as they started to burn, pounding his fists against the wall in desperation, needing to do something even if it wasn’t contributing anything to his rescue. 

As his lungs officially ran out of air, muffled choking noises erupting from his throat as he fought to hold on, his body sucked in a breath against his will and water flooded into his mouth, nose, and lungs, an intense burning filling him. At the same moment, the wall that was vibrating exploded, debris and bubbles surging forward, but Casey couldn’t focus on anything but the water invading his lungs, his vision starting to go black as his body went limp in the murky depths.

Hands gripped the front of his shirt tightly, finding the suspenders on his shoulders and pulling him before he broke free of the water into cool air and water expelled from his mouth and nose as his body spasmed, coughing and retching to get rid of every ounce and let air fill his lungs instead. 

The ground was cold beneath him, but soft as he retched, vomiting water and coughing as his abused lungs spasmed uncontrollably. After an eternity, he sucked in air for the first time and oxygen flooded his body, his vision coming back as the tingling in his hands and feet began to ebb. 

“That’s it, Matt. Just keep breathing; you’re doing good,” a soothing voice said near his ear, a warm hand on the back of his neck. Kelly. 

Things were a blur after that as Casey was loaded into an ambulance and whisked to the hospital. After being checked out, his chest x-rayed to make sure there was no lingering water in his lungs, he was set up in a hospital room for observation overnight. He was hooked up to a warm saline drip to bring up his temperature since he was slightly hypothermic too, but the doctors told him he should be good to go in the morning as long as no complications occurred during the night. 

When that was done, they finally allowed Severide to come in. His boyfriend was still in his work clothes, face pale and mud-streaked as he approached the side of Casey’s bed. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Casey’s thigh.

“Like a drowned rat,” Casey said and chuckled hoarsely. “Is everyone okay? Did they get out before the ceiling came down?”

Severide nodded and the tension in Casey’s shoulders eased. That was good to hear. 

“We had all just cleared the house when most of it came down. When I realized that you weren’t part of the group…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “Let’s just say Boden had to hold me to the ground to stop me from going in after you.”

Casey blinked away the tears that formed in his eyes, his throat closing with emotion. “The floor,” he started, clearing his throat when his voice cracked, “it collapsed beneath me right before the ceiling came down. Threw me into some sort of crawl space and then the collapse covered the hole. I knew it was filling with water. I tried to tell you over the radio. I’m assuming you understood since I was rescued?”

Severide’s face had a haunted look to it, long shadows under his eyes. “It was hard to hear through the static but I heard you say something about a basement and water. I could only guess what was happening, but I knew you were trapped so we started digging at the far wall until we exposed enough of it to crack through the foundation. When we got through and I saw the water was to the top…” he stopped again and titled his head back for a few seconds before he looked at Casey again, eyes bright with tears. “I thought I was too late. But I wasn’t going to give up. I reached my hands in and by some miracle I felt you and once I had my hands on you I wasn’t letting go. The moment I pulled you free and you started coughing, my life started again. I can’t lose you, Case. I just can’t.”

Tears spilled down his boyfriend’s cheeks and Casey felt the dampness on his too. They both cried for the love they almost lost, how they were almost ripped away from one another. 

Casey just nodded letting Severide know he understood, that he felt all of those emotions too. Then he patted the left side of the bed as he scooted over. 

“Lay with me?”

Severide gave him a small, but genuine smile. 

“Of course, Matty,” he said as he slid next to him, wrapping an arm around the blonde’s neck. Casey snuggled close and rested his head on his boyfriend’s chest, the steady thump of his heart soothing to his ears as they both held each other, a silent promise going between them that they would never let go.

Chapter Text

Casey clicked the stopwatch as he surveyed his team climb up and down the aerial, folded hoses on their shoulder as they squeezed past one another going in opposite directions. As much as his team might detest drills, especially on a hot summer day like this, they were important to keep the mind and body sharp, so Casey made sure they did at least one big drill session each week. 

This was very much focused on the physical demand of the job as Casey timed each member of 81, competing them against one another as well as themselves as they tried for their best time. But Casey also always promised them a reward for their hard work. It kept them motivated and feeling valued, while being something easy Casey could deliver on his part. One quick stop to the best donut place in Chicago or the ice cream shop everyone loved and his team was happy. Today he had promised ice cream since it was so hot and that had immediately brought up the mood in his team. 

He clicked the stop watch again as Otis did his lap, heading up for his final one. All of his team was doing great, most of them even beating their own personal records. 

As promised, when his team had finished the drill, Casey took them on a ride to get ice cream and gas, since that was what he would be using as the official excuse for this outing. The cool treat had everyone in good spirits as they returned back to the firehouse. 

When Casey jumped out of Truck, wiping the lingering stickiness on his pants from his own ice cream, he spotted Squad back at their table. They had been on a call with 61 when they left, something to do with a construction worker trapped on the job site.

Casey walked over and Severide smiled when he saw that the blonde was heading his way. He was doing one of his crossword puzzles, pencil tapping the table as he scrunched his brows in concentration. 

“Call go okay?” Casey asked as he placed a hand on Severide’s shoulder, glancing over at his crossword.

“The answer for that one is ‘equitable’," he said before Severide could answer his question, seeing that his boyfriend was stuck on that line. 

Sev gave him an amused side eye before he penciled in the answer, chuckling slightly. Then he put down the pencil and fully faced the blonde. 

“Call was good,” he said, answering Casey’s question. “Construction worker got pinned in some scaffolding. We cut him out and he only had some minor injuries.”

“Always nice to hear,” Casey murmured as he lowered his head to kiss Severide quickly. They tried not to show affection in front of everyone while on duty, well, Casey did at least. Severide didn’t care who saw, but sometimes Casey couldn’t resist a small moment between them. Whether it was holding hands, a prolonged hug, or a quick kiss, sometimes that was just what the blonde needed. In this case, he just felt like it, his boyfriend looking extra good in the mid-afternoon sun with his uniform on. 

Severide kissed back, hand briefly cupping Casey’s face before he pulled back and licked his lips. 

“I take it you just came back from an ice cream run? You taste like vanilla.”

Casey smiled shyly. “We may have gone on a gas run.”

Severide smiled too, the corner of his eyes creasing. “Got it. ‘Gas run’.”

“Whatever,” Casey laughed and turned, his hand slipping off Severide’s back. He paused when his boyfriend’s hand shot out and caught his wrist.

“Oh, I forgot. A package came for you. I left it on the table in the common room.”

Casey raised an eyebrow. “Where was it from?”

“No idea. Didn’t have a return address, but it was addressed to you and there’s a card taped to the front. Maybe that’ll explain things.”

“Hm, weird. Okay, I'll go check it out. Thanks Sev.”

His boyfriend nodded and then turned back to his crossword, pencil tapping against the table once again. 

When Casey entered the common room, it was empty. Squad was on the apparatus floor, Engine on a call, and 61 still gone from their call with Squad. That left just his team, but they must have been scattered throughout the rest of the firehouse. 

As he walked through the room, he spotted a small brown box sitting on the long table. Casey picked it up, the box fairly light, but didn’t hear anything rattling inside. The only words on the box were written in a messy scrawl with just his name and firehouse 51 printed on the cardboard. But, like Severide had said, there was a card taped to the top of the box. Casey pulled it free and opened it. The message was just as cryptic as the mostly blank box: A thank you from your days as Alderman. 

Casey frowned, a bit perplexed. He hadn’t been an Alderman in two years. Why send this to him now? Maybe they had forgotten to send it when he was just out of office and decided to send it to him now anyway? 

He walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife from one of the drawers, slicing through the tape. Then he folded back the two cardboard wings. Something snagged as he pulled, resisting the motion, but then it popped free with a metallic clang and he pushed the wings down so he could see the contents of the box. 

It was lined with brown paper on the bottom, keeping the object in the center in place. It took him a moment to figure out what it even was. The object was black, about the size of a mango, and oddly shaped, round with ridges. Then he looked at the cardboard wing that had gotten stuck and saw a metal ring taped to it, attached to a string and cold horror washed over him, turning his blood to ice. It was some kind of grenade and when he opened the box, he had armed it. 

On instinct, Casey threw the box onto the metal counter and went to turn, to get away from the weapon, but too much time had passed since he armed it. In the next instant the thing exploded into light brighter than Casey had ever experienced, searing his eyeballs and whitening them out, leaving him completely blind. A heartbeat later a deafening boom sounded, rattling the kitchen, glasses and plates in the cupboard clacking with the force of the boom and Casey’s ears blew out, his vision cutting off entirely as his body flew back, hitting the cupboards behind him with wood-cracking force as he fell to the ground, hands clasped tightly over his ears and eyes tight shut. He drew his body into a ball, tucking his head close to his legs as he writhed, head ringing like a clock tower bell that had just been rung. And the pain, the throbbing in his ears and the burning in his eyes, overwhelmed all of his senses, leaving him in a dark, quiet prison of misery, his mind trapped in a body that wasn’t functioning properly. 

As he lay curled on the floor, the high pitched ringing in his ears was deafeningly loud, spots dancing under his clenched eyelids. The world felt like it was spinning wildly around him even though he was laying still on the floor. 

The Captain opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to get his vision to come back, but so far everything was doubled and blurred, spots of light blocking his view everywhere his eyes roamed.

The floor vibrated underneath him, much gentler than the shockwave the stun grenade had caused and then hands were touching him. The hands were warm and calloused, grabbing his head, touching his face with utter gentleness, touching his back and roaming over his body. 

Then Casey was rolled onto his back, still blinking as he tried to clear his vision, and the blonde was pleased to note that his hearing was starting to return, the shifts of pressure inside his head causing his ears to pop and for sound to start trickling through. 

Casey brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes, and when he removed his hands, blinked a few more times and finally, finally, his vision cleared. I was still a bit of a blur at first, but then his vision sharpened and he saw the white ceiling tiles, the haze of smoke from the grenade wafting in the fluorescent beams of light, and Severide as he hovered next to him.

“-hear me?” Severide’s voice broke in, quiet and tinny in his damaged ears, but then clearer as Casey shifted his jaw and more pops crackled in his ears allowing sound to rush in much clearer, albeit a bit quieter than normal.

“Ugh,” Casey groaned as she shifted on the ground, trying to get his bearings now that his senses were coming back online. “What the hell was that?”

Severide placed one hand on Casey’s chest, the other on the top of his head.

“A fucking flash grenade. Whoever sent that package was trying to hurt you, Case.”

“Help me up,” Casey said, already starting to push himself up on his feet. Severide scrambled to help him stand, keeping his hands on the blonde’s arms as Casey wobbled, his equilibrium still messed up from the damage to his ears. 

The box was no more, only a charred pile of ash sitting on top of the scorched metal table, black soot stuck to the table’s surface from the ball of fire. The ceiling was covered in a layer of soot in a circle above where the box had been sitting, the air still smelling of smoke and burnt plastic. If Casey hadn’t thrown the box back onto the table and it had gone off in his face, he wouldn’t have gotten so lucky. 

“What the hell, Case?” Severide asked as he, too, stared at the carnage. 

“I have no idea. All the box said was that it was a thank you for my days as Alderman. I’d take it they were being ironic.”

“You think?” Severide deadpanned, eyes flashing dangerously. “Who the hell does that? And how did the package even end up here? I found it on the Squad table when we got back from our call.”

“I think we’ll have to make a call to CPD.”

“Screw that, let’s make a visit. We need to figure this out now. He could have blinded you! Or got you seriously injured!”

Severide turned toward the blonde sharply, sea blue eyes roaming over him intently. “How are you feeling by the way? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

Casey waved a hand. “No, I’m fine. It just stunned the hell out of me. I’ll be okay.”

The look Severide gave him told Casey that he would be monitoring him closely to make sure the blonde was telling the truth. 

“I’m okay, Sev. I promise,” he reassured, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Let’s go to the station and make a report. Whoever this person is, they could be sending more of this to other people for all we know. Did any part of the grenade survive the blast?”

Otis stepped forward, and for the first time Casey saw he had an audience of 51 members who were hovering in the common room, concern plastered on their faces.

“A few pieces of it survived. I gathered what I could,” he said as he reached out and handed Severide a baggie full of shattered and charred pieces of plastic, twisted and warped. But some of the pieces were big enough that they might be able to tell something about where the grenade came from or the person who sent it. 

“Thank you,” Casey said as Severide pocketed the item. Then his boyfriend reached out and hooked an arm around Casey’s back, the blonde still a bit dizzy, as they walked toward the apparatus floor.

“Squad, let’s take a ride,” Severide announced and his team bounced up, grabbing their gear and ready to head to CPD. This was a ride Casey hadn’t been expecting at the start of shift, but at least it would start them on a journey to figure out who this dangerous person was and hopefully put a stop to their actions before someone got seriously hurt. If there was one good thing that could come out of him being attacked, it was that. 

Chapter Text

Somehow, 51 had been given the pleasure of parade duty. A full day where they sat on their Truck and did nothing, just watch the crowd and the parade floats go by when they could be responding to actual calls. 

It was more of a punishment than an honour, as the Mayor called it, because it was so mind-numbingly boring. When Boden had announced that 51 had been chosen last week, they had all protested, trying everything they could to get out of it, But the Mayor had chosen 51 personally because of their track record when it came to call, how well they functioned as a house, so Boden said it was happening and that was the end of that. 

So that was where they were now. Casey and Severide lounged on the top of Truck sitting on the rails of the aerial as they lazily watched the crowd. The only good thing to come out of this was the fact that they didn’t have to stick to their own apparatuses, so Severide was allowed to be with Casey. If they were going to be bored, he would rather be bored with his boyfriend by his side. 

Two hours went by with nothing happening except for the sun getting hotter, its beams beating down on him and Severide causing their cheeks to pinken and sweat to break on their foreheads. 

Casey grabbed an ice cold water from the small cooler they had up there with them and passed one to Severide. They both drained the water quickly and Casey placed the empty bottles back in the cooler until he would be able to recycle them.

As he settled back to watch the floats pass, movement in the corner of Casey’s eye caught his attention. He turned and saw a group of men off to the side in the small park that was next to the parade. The park was packed with people barbecuing and kids running around as their parents watched from folding chairs. This group was on the edge and appeared to be getting a bit rowdy. The police made their way over and started talking to the men, but that only escalated things. A few of the men started yelling, gesturing wildly with their drinks clutched in their hands. And while Casey couldn’t confirm from where he was sitting, the blonde was almost positive that they held beer cans. 

One of the cops grabbed the nearest and rowdiest guy, trying to pull his hands behind his back, and all hell broke loose. The guy’s buddies surged forward, making the two other cops jump to detain them, and in the mix of yelled swears, limbs, and beer cans, more people from their group edged in, phones out and yelling obscenities at the police. 

“Shit, we better go help,” Casey said as he stood, and saw Severide do the same. They slid down the ladder and as soon as their boots touched the scorching asphalt, were running toward the cops. Casey heard the pounding of boots behind him and knew that more of 51 had joined them. 

As they reached the cops, struggling to try and contain the violent group, Casey, Severide, and the rest of 51 that had followed each grabbed a guy and wrestled to pin them to the ground. 

Casey’s guy was shorter than the blonde, but heavier, making it difficult to bring his hands behind his back. He also smelt like sweat and beer, causing Casey to wrinkle his nose and pull back as far as he could to escape the offending odour. 

The guy kicked and bucked as Casey took him to the ground, but the Captain held tight and finally got his hands pulled all the way to his back, resting his knee on the guy’s spine so he couldn’t move. 

As Casey looked around, he saw that the rest of 51 was also fairing well, and the cops were slapping the cuffs on the first three guys who had started all of this. 

When the men were cuffed, the police held them to the ground and then one of the officers called for backup on his radio.

The rest of the group of guys that weren’t involved in the fight but were holding their phones to record, circled closer and Casey had a bad feeling about what was about to happen. Reaching into his turnout pants, he grabbed a small rope he always carried on him and tied the rope tightly around the guy's hands so that he couldn’t pull them free. Just as he finished the last knot, a few of the guys filming put away their phones and closed in on one of the officers that was closer to Casey but away from the other officers. The cop yelled at them to get back, placing one of his hands on his belt, telling them that he would pepper spray them if they got any closer, but in their drunken stupor, these guys were just looking to fight. 

One of the guys lunged and the officer reacted quickly, pulling out his pepper spray and blasting the guy in the face. The perpetrator fell back with a strangled yell and then his two buddies were moving. The officer tried to spray them, but they hit the can out of his hand and sent it flying into the grass. That was when Casey abandoned his guy, at least having immobilized his hands, and rushed over, tackling one guy to the ground in a swift motion, allowing the officer to grab the other one. As Casey fought with this guy, getting an elbow to the gut that caused him to double over slightly, footsteps sounded in the grass next to him. The Captain looked up briefly only to be met with the black canister the cop had lost in the tussle before liquid shot into his face, right in his eyes and in his nose and down his throat. 

There was a moment where Casey was completely frozen, a blink of an eye where nothing registered, and then a fiery pain like he had never felt erupted over his face, causing his lungs to seize. 

He fell back, not able to do anything but grab at his face, wiping the liquid from his eyes, but it did nothing to help the intense burning that lit his face on fire. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. All he could do was cough, his chest tightening, as he grabbed at his face. It felt like he had poured acid into eyes, his mouth burning and tingly, his tongue numb and thick against the roof of his mouth. The heat slid down his throat like he swallowed lava. 

He didn’t know where he was anymore or where the men had gone. He just knew he needed the burning to stop.

Loud noises entered the disorienting fog the blonde was in. Shouts, boots hitting the grass, the clinking of handcuffs, but Casey had no idea what was happening. 

Then one shout in particular pierced the fog and Casey instinctively turned toward it.

“Casey!” His boyfriend’s scent washed over him as he rushed to the blonde’s side, hands gripping his arms that covered his face. 

“Let me see, Case,” he said, pulling gently at his arms. 

Casey didn’t want to let go of his face, something about his hands pressed their comforting, as if his face would just melt away if he let go, but he trusted his boyfriend. So he relaxed his grip and let Severide pull his hands away.

“Shit, Case. He got you good.”

Who had gotten him? Even disoriented it was obvious he had been pepper sprayed, but by who? One of the men looking for a fight?

Casey coughed again, a harsh cycle that had his head pounding, and then wheezed in a breathe as the pepper spray clouded his lungs in spicy waves, irritating everything in Casey’s body.

“Easy,” Severide said as he placed his hands on Casey’s arms again. “Let’s get you up. We need to wash this off, stop the burning.”

Casey nodded blindly since he still couldn’t open his eyes and felt his boyfriend tug him to his feet before he wrapped an arm around the blonde’s back and led him away from the chaos. 

He followed along as Severide steered them away from park and back onto the street where the parade was still happening. They walked down the road for a minute before Severide stopped and pushed Casey until he was sitting, making sure his boyfriend was secure before Casey heard him walk a few steps away.

“Herrmann, can you pull the line? Casey got a face full of pepper spray and I need to flush it out.”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Herrmann replied and Casey heard the clanking of Engine’s house being unwound, the hissing of the hose as it rubbed against the rough asphalt, and then Severide was back by his side. A few seconds later Herrmann called, “charging the line!” and the sound of rushing water grew louder as the water filled the hose.

“Okay, I’m going to put this on its lowest setting. Can you lean forward as far as you can? I’ll rinse your face. You can just push the hose away when you need a breather. That sound okay to you?”

Cased nodded because yes please just get rid of the burning, allow him to take in a real breath. He leaned forward and spread his legs before he heard the gurgle of the water as Severide opened the nozzle. 

Then, finally, sweet sweet relief as the cool water shot gently into his face. It was light night and day, the burning going from sticking his bare face into flame to a bad sunburn. 

He let the water hit his face for as long as he could, holding his breath as he moved his face in a small circle, letting it flush his eyes most of all. 

When his lungs couldn’t stand it any longer, Casey pushed at the hose and Severide immediately pulled him away. Casey sucked in a breath, coughing slightly since his lungs were still irritated, and then blew his nose to get rid of the pepper spray that had shot up there when he was sprayed. It was gross, the way snot hung off his face, but Severide brought the water back over and wiped it away before he splashed his hand, not even saying anything. Casey felt so much love and respect for his boyfriend then, how he would do anything to help him even if it was gross. Casey had never loved anyone more than he did Sev. 

Then he held his breath again and nodded and Severide began rinsing his face again. The burning was much less this time and the water rinsed away the lingering pepper spray. When he pulled back this time, his face still burned, his eyes watery and irritated along with his mouth, but it was so much better than the moment after he had been sprayed. 

As Casey sat up straight, opening his eyes, he realized through his blurred vision that he was sitting on the back of Engine. He heard Severide shut the nozzle, the noise of the water splashing on the pavement quieting, and then his boyfriend was by his side, a hand on his shoulder as he angled his face down to see Casey’s.

“How are you doing now, Case?”

Casey cleared his scratchy throat before he replied. “Better,” he said as he rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the remaining blurriness. 

He saw Severide’s roam over his face, his hand grasping the side of his head as he angled the blonde’s face to see better. 

“Your face is red and so are your eyes, but that’s to be expected. The irritation should go down with time.”

Casey nodded. “Did you see who sprayed me?”

“One of the jackasses holding the phone saw the pepper spray laying in the grass. Guess he thought it would be funny to spray you in the face with it. But don’t worry, he got taken to the ground right after by one of the cops that arrived. And I’ll make sure he gets an assaulting an officer charge.”

Despite the lingering burn, Casey smiled slightly as he stared at his boyfriend. 

“What?” Severide asked.

“You. You go all protective when something happens to me. It’s cute,” Casey said, his smile growing as the fondness for his boyfriend blossomed again.

Severide’s face softened and crossed his arms over his chest, a smile growing on his face. “You like that, huh? Well you’re a magnet for trouble, Matty, so I get practice with my protective side.”

Casey frowned playfully. “Hey, I don’t ask for these things to happen.”

“I know,” Severide said as he pulled Casey into a hug. When they pulled back, Severide brushed a whisper of a touch over Casey’s cheek, wincing.

“It looks like you have a bad sunburn. Does it still hurt a lot?”

“It burns like a bad sunburn, but it’s so much better than it was before.”

Severide nodded. “You should ice it, take some of the heat out of it.”

“At least we can get out of parade duty now,” Casey said as he stood.

Severide smirked. “You do know when to pick the right times to get hurt.”

Casey chuckled as they walked toward Squad so that they could get a ride back to the firehouse. “I’m always happy to help.”

Chapter Text

Casey should have known that this call wouldn’t go smoothly from the foreboding feeling that haunted him as they drove toward the fire. 

While all calls were their own individual challenges, each a new experience with new challenges to overcome, this call had sent a wave of dread through Casey that he only had experienced on a few occasions. And one of those times a ceiling beam almost killed him. 

This call was to a downtown hotel, 10 stories and always busy for its prime location. There was apparently a growing smell of gas and by the time they arrived, the hotel had started evacuating the guests. But their readings told them that there wasn’t enough time. The gas was quickly reaching the point of no return. If they didn’t stop the gas before then, there would be a lot of casualties on their hands. 

Boden came up to Casey as he was suiting up. “Hotel manager thinks it's coming from the pipes in the basement. I want you and Severide to go down there and check it out. Take a gas meter. If things get out of hand, you get out immediately, you hear me?”

“Yes Chief.”

Boden nodded and then walked back to the centre of the madness, directing 51 to help the guests out of the building in an orderly manner. 

When they had masked up, Casey and Severide made their way to the basement, pushing past the mass exodus in the lobby as they located the basement stairs. 

Severide held the gas meter out in front as they descended, confirming what the hotel manager suspected as the readings got higher. They followed the gas trail through the meter until they came upon a large stainless steel furnace, one of the pipes warped as a shimmery vapour shot from it. They had found the leak. 

Both he and Severide sprung forward, inspecting the area to see how they could slow the leak. Severide located the metal wheel that controlled the gas flow and tugged on it, but it didn’t budge. Casey grabbed it and they pulled together, muscles protesting as their feet slipped on the smooth concrete floor. But then the wheel moved an inch, jerking their arms, before it moved further until the hiss if the gas stopped. They let go, but then lurched forward as the wheel opened the valve again and gas started pouring out. 

Casey shot a wide-eyed look at Severide. If they didn’t hold the wheel closed, the gas would continue to pour out. 

Casey looped one arm around the wheel, keeping his leverage, as he reached over and pressed the button on his radio.

“Chief! We found the gas leak, but me and Severide have to keep it closed manually. We’ll hold it for as long as we can, but the people evacuating have to hurry.”

A second later the radio crackled as Boden responded. “Copy that Casey. Main is getting the company to shut off the gas, but that could take up to twenty minutes. If things go South, get out of there, no questions asked.” 

Casey didn’t respond to Boden. Instead, he dropped his radio and placed his hand back on the wheel. Then he turned to meet Severide’s eyes. 

“You know what this means, right?”

Severide nodded. “We most likely aren’t getting out of here.” 

While Casey already knew this, hearing the words out loud made it so much more real. But with the gas levels so high and how fast it was pouring from the pipe, they wouldn’t make it back out of the basement before it ignited. And they definitely couldn’t wait until the gas company shut it off. Even now, Casey’s arms were shaking violently, the wheel tugging against their grip as he and Severide pulled with everything they had to keep it shut. The pressure of the gas would be too much. Soon it would blow open the valve again, whether they wanted it to or not. 

“If this is it,” Casey started, licking his lips as he tried to figure out what to say. What did one say when they knew the words that passed their lips would be their last? He decided to say the first things that came to his mind.

“Just know that I love you Kelly Severide. And these few years that we’ve been together have been the best years of my life. You complete me and if this is the way I have to go out, at least you’re the one by my side. The last face I’ll see before the end.”

A tear ran down one cheek and he blinked the rest away, not wanting his vision to be blurred in his last moments. 

Severide’s eyes glistened in the dimly lit basement as he stared right back at Casey. “And I love you Matthew Casey. I could not have asked for a better partner, the one I know I could spend the rest of my life with and it still wouldn’t be enough time.”

Casey nodded, trying so hard not to cry, but then was jerked forward as the wheel shifted, the metal pipes groaning as the gas pressure grew steadily, close to bursting. 

His radio came to life again, a whisper compared to the roaring of the gas pipe in front of them. 

“Everyone’s out! Both of you, get out of the basement now!” 

Casey pressed the button, stringing even more now as he tried to keep the valve shut.

“No can do Chief,” he said through gritted teeth, his feet sliding even more on the floor as he fought to stay upright. “We won’t have enough time. It’s okay. Me and Severide are together and we prepared for this moment as firefighters. Thank you for everything. You were the best Chief a firefighter could wish for.” 

Boden’s frantic voice started to come through the small speaker, but Casey reached over and turned the radio off. There was nothing Boden could do now.

The blonde looked over to the far end of the basement and noticed a door. It was a long shot, but if he and Severide could reach it, they might be able to hide out from the fire. It also might prove to be their downfall if the fire bloomed through the basement, superheating the room and cooking them. But it was a risk they would have to take. 

He turned to Severide with difficulty. “See the door? Think we could make it?”

Severide’s eyes flicked to the door as he calculated the risk. “It’ll be tight, but we’re dead otherwise so might as well try, right?”

Casey nodded quickly. “Right. No more harm in trying,” he said, trying to make it sound more like a solid plan than it did. 

They had no more time to contemplate this as the wheel jerked them forward again and the sound of hissing gas filled the air. It was now or never. One more quick glance at Severide’s and they let go of the wheel in sync, ducking as a huge burst of gas flared, beating at their backs. 

As they ran, they were almost at the door when the gas ignited in a huge ball of fire, the light blinding and the heat scorching their gear. 

Casey flew forward, a step ahead of Severide, and opened the door. They each slammed into the ground painfully but Severide spun the second he hit the floor, leaping for the door handle and slamming it shut right as the fire ball belated the door, flames shooting under the gap as the door rattled loudly, creaking and groaning against the flames. 

They pressed themselves to the back of the closet as the heat grew, sweat sliding down Casey’s face and back in small rivers. 

Arms in arm, they pressed into each other despite the heat, drawing comfort from their touch. 

The temperature only increased in the small room, reaching degrees that made Casey sure that his boots were melting into the floor, his blood boiling inside him. And just as it reached its peak, Casey, not sure he could stand it anymore, suddenly the flames disappeared from under the door, the rattling stopped and plunging the room into eerie silence. 

After a moment, Casey moved to look at Severide and saw that his boyfriend was just as confused. As the blonde contemplated reaching over to open the door, it burst open, startling him, as a smoky figure filled the doorway. The fire was out and they were alive. 

The figure moved into the closet and bent down, his face coming into view. “Casey, Severide, are you okay?” Boden asked as he scanned them up and down. 

“We’re good Chief,” Severide said shakily as he helped them stand. “Just a bit smoked.”

Boden chuckled, the sound one of relief and disbelief, as he clapped them each on the back. 

“Hell of a call, huh?” 

Casey let out a relieved chuckle of his own, astonishment that they were alive bursting through the other mix of emotions swirling within him. “It was closer than we would have liked Chief.”

As Boden led them out, Engine still blasting the basement with water, Severide asked, “How did you get the flames out? The gas had it cooking.”

“I dug up the building schematics and found where the gas valve was outside. We dug it up and turned it off, just in time it seems.”

Severide whistled. “Saved our asses, that’s for sure.”

Boden turned on the stairs, giving each of them one of his stern looks. “By the way. I ever hear you speak like that again, and your asses will be on bathroom duty for the rest of the year.”

The look he gave them, eyebrows raised and lips pressed in a hard line and Casey knew that he was serious. 

“Loud and clear, Chief.”

As they walked up the rest of the stairs, Casey reached over and clasped his hand in Severide’s, squeezing it tightly, all the emotions of what they had gone through passing between them along with an unspoken promise to never get into that situation again, but if they did, to at least have each other by their side.

Chapter Text

Casey’s blood went cold, his heart stopping in his chest as time seemed to slow around him. He stared at the ceiling of 51’s common room to where the robotic voice rang loud and clear, announcing their latest call. The voice faded as Casey stared, sweat slicking his palms. 

He was rooted in place. He should be running, gearing up so they could start making their way toward the emergency, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, to get his feet to move. 

Severide was there then. Face filling Casey’s vision, hands on his face.

“I know, Case. I know. But we have to go. You need to move. There are people in danger.”

A heartbeat passed where Casey just stared into Severide’s blue eyes. But then he blinked and nodded and his feet were suddenly moving, taking him where he needed to go.

On the way to the call, Casey just stared through the windshield despite the blinding sun. He numbly placed his helmet on his head as his heart beat loudly in his ears, his hands shaking slightly. 

“You okay Captain?” Kidd asked as she glanced at him quickly before turning her attention back to the road. 

He didn’t move his gaze, his voice flat as he said, “I’m fine, Kidd.”

She didn’t press the issue and 81 rode the rest of the way in silence. 

When they arrived on scene, flashes of the past took over, all the emotions from that day spilling out, threatening to paralyze him. Just the sight of the house made him want to collapse, his knees weak like jelly. It looked the same, despite the carnage it faced the last time he was here. Casey wasn’t sure he could do this.

As he stood staring at the house, he saw Severide start to walk over to him, concern on his face, but then Pridgen stormed forward, filling in for Boden while he was on paternity leave, and took control of the scene.

“Where the hell are you going, Severide? Get back in line and get ready to go in. You and your team will be sweeping the house, looking for victims.”

Severide looked conflicted, staring intently at Casey, but when Pridgen moved toward the Squad Lieutenant with a hand pointed, he reluctantly turned back to his men as they started to get suited up. 

Suddenly a young boy came flying out of the house, covered in soot and coughing.

“My mom! She was upstairs with my baby sister! I couldn’t get to her,” he cried as Brett ran over to him, placing a comforting hand on his back. 

Pridgen moved forward then and barked out, “Okay 51, you heard the kid. A mom and her baby are trapped on the upper floor. Squad you continue your sweep from the inside. 81 you approach from the outside on the aerial.”

No. No no no no no. It was happening again, just like before. He couldn’t go through this again, he wouldn’t. 

Rough hands were on him, pushing him, and Casey stumbled, finally tearing his eyes away from the house, the smoke pouring heavily from the roof, flames spitting out of the downstairs window. 

“You deaf all of a sudden Casey? Move your ass! Get up on that aerial and do your job!” He was pushed toward Truck where the aerial was being extended. He tried to resist, tried to tell Pridgen that he couldn’t do it, to send someone else, but Pridgen was hearing nothing of it. 

And then Casey was on the aerial, heading up slowly like he was marching to his death. His hands clenched the white metal rails so tight his knuckles were white, hands slick with sweat. His chest rose and fell quickly, a wave of dizziness assaulting him. 

When he got to the top, he froze, staring at the window, the blackness inside, and how it mocked him, whispering his failures in his ear, wrenched the grief he had buried so deep inside him out so that it was a fresh wound once more. 

The sounds around him faded as his past towered over him, swallowing him in horror-filled waves.

DARDEN!

The name screamed inside of his brain, the pain associated with it so sharp that it blinded him. He failed. He killed him.

“Casey!” Pridgen roared over the radio. “Get your ass inside the house, now! What’s wrong with you?”

Someone pulled up behind him, words gentle but firm. 

“I know, Casey,” Otis said and the blonde saw that he was holding a stokes basket. “I know it’s hard. I know what you’re thinking. But there’s a mother inside with a baby that needs your help. Focus on that.”

Casey nodded clumsily and picked up his radio. “Do we have a vent?” His voice was shaking and hoarse, not sounding anything like himself. He spoke the words that he regretted not saying earlier that day. The simple sentence that would have been the difference between life and death. Why had he waited so long to ask? Why hadn’t he done more to stop Darden?

“House is vented. You’re clear Casey,” Severide said and Casey could hear the emotion in his boyfriend’s voice, how he was right back to that day with him. 

Casey surged forward, breaking the glass with his halligan, the shattering of the glass obliterating the wall he had built after Darden’s death, the sound the same as the moment before Darden went through the very same window and never came back out. 

Then Casey pulled his SCBA and ducked inside, the smoke thick, the fire hot. But he kept moving, sweeping his arms out as he searched for the missing woman and her baby.

After a minute, he touched something and kneeled to get a better look. It was the mom, collapsed on the floor, coughing violently. She had her baby tucked protectively under her. It was a miracle she was conscious, but something Casey could use to his advantage to get her and her baby out of there.

“Can you hear me?” He yelled over the roar of the fire and she nodded slightly. 

“I’m going to get you out of here. Cover your baby as best you can and I’ll lead you out, okay?”

She nodded again, coughing, and moved to cover her baby with her shirt. Then she moved to stand and Casey reached down and helped her up so that she was hunched, where the smoke was less thick. 

When they reached the window, Otis was right there, ready to help her through. When he had them strapped, he began to pull them down slowly, looking up at Casey who was still inside the house. 

“You coming?” He called, still descending down the aerial.

“Right behind you!” Casey called back and did one last sweep of the room, his gaze lingering on the floor, the exact spot where Darden had been standing as the fire consumed him.

Suddenly the fire flashed, a small burst of flame spreading on the ceiling, the wood popping in the heat. 

Casey froze as he crashed to the floor, his whole body tense as panic laced through him, lighting his nerve endings on fire. He sucked in ragged breaths, his SCBA clicking loudly in his ears since he was sucking so much oxygen in, causing it to work overtime. The flash of the fire that day, how it spilled out of the window and licked Casey's face like a kiss of death, the way he dove to the aerial, ribs protesting as they cracked against the metal rungs, how similar that was to how they slammed against the wood floor now. He could do nothing as the past rushed over him and dragged him to one of the worst moments of his life. 

He could do nothing as he lay on the floor, the heat of the fire scorching his back. Darden had felt like this, had suffered the wrath of the fiery heat consumed him. 

“Casey!” Severide yelled in his ear, but the blonde didn’t move, too lost in the past.

“House is clear, we need to get out now!” His boyfriend continued, tugging on Casey’s arm. Casey let himself be tugged up by his boyfriend, let him push him through the window and help him down the aerial. 

When they were on the ground, Severide kept him moving until they were a good distance from the scene. Only then did he stop and Casey’s legs went boneless as he collapsed to the ground, the pain that exploded in his knees a dull throb at the back of his thoughts, his mind still trapped in death and mistakes. 

Severide knelt in front of him, pulling off his SCBA and throwing it off to the side. 

“Breathe Case. You need to breathe.”

Was he not? Casey sucked in a breath and found that his body was screaming for oxygen, his breaths coming in quick raspy bursts. His body began to shake and then there were tears pouring down his face, unconfined and uncontrollable. 

Severide pulled him into a tight hug, pressing Casey’s face into the crook of his neck, a warm hand on the back of his head. 

He let Casey cry, rocking him, as he murmured words into his ear, a steady stream of soothing noises that helped soothe a part of the rawness inside Casey.

When the blonde had calmed a bit, he heard some of the words. “I know, Case,” he said, repeating Otis’ words from earlier. “It all came back, right? Just let it out, breathe.”

Casey pulled back, face inches from Severide’s. His boyfriend placed both hands on his face, brushing away his tears. 

“We never should have been sent on this call, Case. If Boden was here he would have made sure of that. I’m going to have a talk with headquarters after this, make sure something like this never happens again.”

Casey nodded as more tears, hot and fat, slid down his cheeks. Severide wiped those away too.

Why did it have to be this house? How unlucky could one be that the house where a firefighter had died would catch fire only a few years later? 

“When I was up there…” Casey started, breath hitching as more tears fell, voice cracking with emotion. Severide’s face morphed into soft understanding as he kept his hands on Casey’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. 

“You were back at that day,” Severide finished and Casey nodded, a sob wrenching its way out his throat. 

“I know, baby. It’s not okay. Let’s get back to the firehouse so we can go home and relax, try and work through it, yeah? Does that sound good?”

Casey nodded again, not able to use his voice. Severide smoothed his hand down Casey’s face and then brushed his lips over Casey’s. 

“I love you, Case. We’ll get through this.” He whispered, lips tickling Casey’s from their close proximity.

And they would. It would hurt, the wounds reopened from all those years ago, but together, they could get through anything. 

Chapter Text

Casey was in a deep sleep, everything that had been happening lately making him exhausted so that when he finally collapsed into bed, he was asleep within minutes. 

Because of this, consciousness returned slowly, wrapping him in a thick blanket of sleepy warmth. He managed to crack his eyes open, lids heavy and begging him to go back to sleep, but something nagged at the back of his mind, sparking something within him that told him going back to sleep would be a bad idea. 

So he sat up, rubbing his tired eyes as he glanced at the clock and saw that it was a little past three. As he swung his legs over the bed, casting the covers to the side, his fit hit the cold wooden floor. Only, it wasn’t cold. It was actually warm, heading toward hot. Then a sharp acrid scent hit his nose. Smoke. 

Casey was up in an instant, sleep long gone, as he swung his bedroom door open and immediately balked at the intense ripple of heat that blasted his face, smoke stinging his eyes and lungs. His apartment was on fire. The whole of his living room and kitchen roared with flame as it licked up the walls and ceiling, an orange and red glow of death as it consumed everything in its path. Then another scent assaulted him. Gasoline. 

He slammed his bedroom door shut and spun to face his dark bedroom, eerily calm and still compared to the inferno on the other side of the wall. The blonde could feel the heat pressing into his bedroom, the flames beginning to spit under the door, and he knew he was running out of time. Clad in only his pyjama pants, he ripped a pullover sweater off one of his hangers and pulled it on, diving below to grab a pair of sneakers he kept in here. 

Dressed, the smoke beginning to fill the air, he coughed slightly as he looked around. Then Casey spotted a baseball bat at the far end of his room and rushed to grab it. Bat in hand, he went to the furthest wall on his left, the one that connected with the apartment building’s hallway on the other side. 

It was his only way out now and he had to warn the rest of the building to get out. It took a couple hard hits until he was able to break through the drywall. When the hole was big enough, he turned and kicked with his leg, crashing through the rest of the wall and making a hole large enough for him to crawl through. 

The first thing he did when got through the wall was locate the fire alarm, setting off the eardrum-shattering alarm. Then he started down the hall, banging on doors as loud as he could, calling out, “fire department! Everyone out! This is not a drill!”

People began to spill out of their apartments, bleary eyed and confused. Casey continued to usher them out of the apartment, placing his arm over his mouth as the smoke began to thicken, his eyes watering as he coughed. 

By the time the building was clear, Casey heard sirens as the fire department arrived. He trailed out with the last of the tenants, coughing more harshly, his face and body covered in soot. Then he was out the door, spilling into the cold night, bright from the moon. He stumbled over to the firefighter in charge and saw that it was Parker from firehouse 32.

“Parker!” He called and saw the man turn in surprise. 

“Casey?”

“Fire’s in 1C, fully evolved. Drop two, it’s spreading fast. Floors are cleared, but watch out. The windows are Lexan.”

Parker’s eyes widened in surprise before he turned to his men. “You heard him! Drop two, boys!”

Then he turned back to Casey. “You live in the building?”

“It’s my apartment.”

A look crossed Parker’s face, one that Casey was wholeheartedly familiar with, but had never been on the receiving end. It was the look of pity, the one that spoke volumes about how devastating fires were, how Casey’s whole life, everything he was and had accumulated, disintegrated into ash in seconds while it had taken him years to acquire. 

So Casey just gave a curt nod and turned to walk away, over to an empty curb and away from the crowd. He couldn’t deal with people now that he knew everyone was safe. Now the true meaning of what was happening to him started to sink in as he started as the orange flames that spit into the night sky. His home. His life. Gone. 

He watched numbly as the fire was put out, thick black smoke pouring from the broken windows of his apartment. The cold seeped into his bones, his extremities going numb, but he just kept staring, not believing that any of this was really happening. 

A hand on his shoulder broke him out of his stupor and the blonde turned, surprised to see Boden standing there. 

“Casey,” he said, that same look Parker had on his face. 

“Chief,” Casey responded, voice hollow. 

“Are you all right?”

Was he all right? What did that even mean right now? He was alive, his neighbours safe, but everything he had known, all the possessions he had treasured, gone. But he only said, “I’m okay. Just cold.”

“How’d it start?” Boden asked and Casey knew he really meant who started it, since besides a one in a million fluke, Casey would never have a fire start from something common like leaving a burner on or an unattended candle. 

“I don’t know who did it, but the apartment was doused in gasoline. I smelled it as soon as I opened my bedroom door.”

Boden nodded and then patted Casey’s shoulder. “Alright. CPD will want to talk to you and after that I want you to check into a hotel and get some rest. Don’t worry about shift tomorrow. I’ll make sure the cost is covered by the CFD.”

Casey nodded as his eyes flicked to Boden’s and then away. If he thought too much about it, looked and saw the pity in Boden’s eyes, he wasn’t sure he could keep it together. 

- - - - 

By the time he was done being questioned by the CPD, the sun was up, the morning deceivingly bright and cheerful despite the darkness that had crept into Casey’s life overnight. As he walked through the lobby, he realized that he didn’t have anything on him. No phone, wallet, and no truck since his keys had melted in the fire. He was stranded. 

Platt noticed him wandering like a lost kid and came up to him, offering him a ride anywhere he needed to go, that same pity in her eyes. Casey agreed since he didn’t want to stay here and couldn’t pay for a cab. When they got in her car, she asked where he wanted to go and the blonde had to think about it for a moment. Where did he want to go? He had no home. 

His eyes wandered to the clock. It was half past eight. And he made his decision. 

The apparatus floor was empty when Casey walked up the driveway, but all the apparatuses were there, meaning the firehouse was full. Casey didn’t have it in him to face everyone, to see that pity in their eyes, so he walked through the back door that led to the locker room. He was pretty sure he had an extra set of his truck keys inside and a change of clothes, his only change of clothes since the rest had burned in the fire. The only thing he owned now were the pyjamas on his back. 

His lock clanked against his metal locker as he put in his combination. With the door open, he scanned the contents inside. He looked and looked, the idea that these were his only possessions left settling heavy on his mind. 

He didn’t even hear Severide’s approach, his gruff voice startling him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Casey shut the locker door slightly and turned, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “I need a shower and some clothes.” The clothes he needed for sure, but technically he could shower at the hotel Boden had offered, but he just couldn’t stomach being alone in a hotel, the strange environment surrounding him with the knowledge that he would never get his own home back on the forefront of his mind. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. And while he didn’t want to talk with anyone right now, being in 51’s presence was a comfort he needed at that moment. 

Severide shot him a questioning look, but all Casey noticed was that the pity everyone had etched into their face wasn’t there on Severide’s. Instead, he could see concern but also compassion. He didn’t pity Casey, he wanted to help, be there for him. It made Casey’s chest flutter. 

Him and Severide had been doing a dance for a while. Shared looks, bumping into one another when they got the chance, finding reasons to talk to one another. One night they had even made out after an evening of drinking at Molly’s, the feel of the brick wall against Casey’s back as Severide pressed into him still a fresh memory in his mind. But they had never pursued anything, never put a label on it, and nothing like that had happened since. But that didn’t mean that Casey’s heart didn’t swell with happiness each time he saw the Squad Lieutenant, heat flushing his face as he stared at all the parts of Severide he loved. His gap-toothed smile, his broad shoulders, the tight muscles of his abdomen, the curve of his ass… Casey shook the thoughts away and cleared his throat as he looked back at Severide. 

“They won’t let me into my apartment. Not like there’s anything left anyway though…” He trailed off and saw something change in Severide’s eyes. Pity was still absent, something Casey was grateful for, but it was something sad, causing his blue eyes to pop. 

“Well, I can lend you some stuff if you want. Feel free to borrow any of my clothes until you can replace your own.”

Despite everything he was feeling, a small smile managed to creep onto Casey’s face. “Thanks.”

Casey sighed and tipped his hand back, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “What I really want is to get back into my apartment, take a look around. Maybe help out with the investigation.”

“You’ll have to let OFI handle that. Besides, you’ve got enough to worry about.”

Casey sighed. “You’re right.”

Severide reached into his pocket and pulled something out, metallic jangles filling the air. Then he tossed the item over and Casey caught it with one hand. It was a key ring. 

“Go to my place, get some sleep. That’s your new home as long as you need it.”

Casey clutched the keys in his hand, the metal biting into his palm. “Are you sure?”

Severide smiled, the gap in his teeth showing and brightening part of the darkness inside Casey. “Yeah, don’t insult me.”

Casey couldn’t help but mirror his smile, even though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

As Severide turned, he stopped and his face softened. “You look like hell.”

“So do you,” Casey shot back and Severide chuckled lightly as he walked away. From the outside it would seem like an insult, but that was their way of telling one another they cared. 

- - - - -

An hour later, Casey was standing in Severide’s apartment. He had found some cash in his locker along with a spare set of keys, so he had taken a cab to his apartment where he picked up his truck and drove straight to Severide’s, not sparing a glance at his blackout apartment. If he did, he just might never leave. 

Now he was alone in Severide’s place. He had never been here before, but it was exactly as he imagined. A true single bachelor’s place, but it was clean and tidy and Casey appreciated that. 

The blonde grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt from Severide’s dresser and then headed to the large glass shower where he stood under the hot spray for as long as it lasted, lathering his hair multiple times to get rid of all the soot, scrubbing his body so hard that his skin was red and raw. He wanted all traces of fire off his skin. 

When he got out, he collapsed on the couch and ended up laying back. At some point his eyes slipped shut and he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

Sometime later, Casey jerked upright and looked around, not understanding where he was. Then, as he took in his surroundings, everything came rushing back to him in an overpowering wave. 

Movement in the corner of his eye had his head jerking to the right where he saw Severide standing by his kitchen island, setting down a brown paper bag. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, as he began placing things on the counter. 

“No it’s okay,” Casey said, standing and walking over to the island. “What time is it anyway?”

“Just after 7.”

Casey’s eyes widened. “I slept for 9 hours?”

“Yeah, but you needed it. You looked dead on your feet when you were at the firehouse.”

Casey slid onto a barstool. “I guess I was.”

Severide paused what he was doing and looked intently at the blonde. “How are you doing? Really?”

Casey bit his bottom lip. He still didn’t know how to feel about everything. It was like it hadn’t fully sank in yet. So that’s what he said.

“I honestly don’t know. Everything’s a giant whirlwind right now.”

Severide nodded and then stepped closer, that spark between them practically causing the air to sizzle in between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Casey shook his head as Severide stepped a bit closer, his mouth going dry.

Severide was close enough for Casey to touch now. He licked his lips, trying to get moisture back in his mouth. “What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be on shift?”

“I took the rest of shift off. Told Chief I didn’t want you by yourself tonight.” 

“That was nice, but unnecessary. I would have been okay alone.”

“What if I just wanted to spend some time with you? Make sure you were okay?”

Casey swallowed as Severide stepped impossibly closer, reaching a hand out to tug on the hood of the sweater he had pulled on after his shower, one that had been lying on Severide’s bed. 

“This is my favourite sweater. You look good in it.” Severide took a step back and looked Casey up and down. “In fact, you look damn good in all of my clothes, but I bet you’d look even better with nothing at all.”

Casey’s eyes widened as his breathing picked up. There was a spark in Severide’s eyes, his lips tugging into a smile that suggested devious things, things that Casey’s body was screaming at him to do, to get his hands all over the beautiful man standing in front of him. 

“Yeah?” Was all Casey could manage to say, his brain not giving him anything useful.

Severide’s smile grew so his teeth were on full display. “Definitely. How about we take this back to the bedroom?”

“Fuck, yes,” Casey said as he slid off the bar stool. Severide grabbed his arms and tugged him to his chest where his lips crashed onto Casey’s and fireworks exploded in Casey’s mind and body. It had never felt like this to kiss anyone before. It was like Severide was a drug he couldn’t get enough of, his body craving more and more after each kiss, each touch.

They stumbled all the way into the bedroom, still kissing as they bumped into furniture and almost tripped multiple times. But Severide’s hands were firm on him, keeping him upright. He was safe in Severide’s arms. 

Then Casey was lying on the bed, Severide reaching down and pulling the blonde’s sweater and shirt off before he did the same with his, crashing back down to kiss Casey like he had never been kissed before, hardened muscle pressing against Casey’s stomach. 

He might have lost his home, his clothes, and his belongings, but he had also gained something from this trauma, something that Casey was going to be sure to hold on for a long time.

Chapter Text

Casey and Severide walked out of the firehouse, hand in hand. The air was bright but crisp, the wind stirring the fall air and brushing the backs of their necks with a chill. The orange and red leaves skittered along the ground, adding to the ambiance. The streets were lined with bright orange pumpkins, spider webs, black cat decorations, and other ghosts and ghouls of the night. 

It was the morning of Halloween and they had just gotten off shift, having the holiday off for the first time in a couple years. Casey was glad to have the day off. He was looking forward to handing out candy to all the children, getting to see their costumes as they ran from door to door excitedly. 

As they approached Severide’s car, they saw a man standing on the sidewalk. He looked very out of place, wearing a long black coat, with black dress pants and dated brown leather shoes. He also, strangely enough, had a top hat on his head, his face obscured by a scraggly grey beard. 

It was almost like he was in costume. But what would he be dressed as? Abraham Lincoln? 

They slowed as they approached and the man turned toward them, the top half of his face, not covered by his beard, pale and wrinkly. And Casey noticed that he smelled faintly of mothballs. 

“Uh, hello,” Casey said, exchanging a confused glance with Severide who had his eyebrow quirked. “Can I help you with something?”

The man’s eyes roamed over them slowly as he took every inch of them in. Casey was mesmerized by them. They were an odd colour, almost a grey in the morning sun, but there was something about them that seemed… ancient. 

After a moment, the man spoke, his voice like a creaky floorboard, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. “Yes. You are Mr. Matthew Casey and Kelly Severide?”

“Um, yes, that’s correct.”

The man’s head dipped into a small nod. “Most excellent. I have a job for you both.”

“What kind of job?” Severide asked, speaking for the first time in this strange interaction. 

“It is a bit odd, I will say, but I believe your expertise is needed to help solve my problem.”

“Our… expertise?”

The man’s eyes looked back where the firehouse sat, then flicked to Casey’s face. “You see, I own this property. It is old and abandoned, but I cannot bring myself to let it go. However, this property is having some issues. Flickering lights, odd smells, noises in the walls. I am afraid that the house is unsafe, a safety issue you might say. Perhaps even a fire hazard.”

Casey shifted on his feet. “I’m sorry to hear that, but how do we fit into this?”

The man smiled, his teeth like discoloured piano keys. “I would like you to investigate the house for me. Ensure that everything is okay inside. I will pay for this service, of course.”

Casey glanced at Severide again, the Squad lieutenant seemingly just as confused. Why had he sought them out? How did he even know about them? But it also seemed like a harmless job, one that would make everyone safer if they found out the house was indeed a fire hazard. 

So, Casey said, “Sure, we’d be happy to help.”

A flash of dirty teeth once more. “Excellent. The address is 8619 Wolcott Avenue. Make sure you arrive after sunset.”

A loud noise behind them had Casey and Severide turning. It sounded like a rock had hit the pavement and slid down the driveway. When they saw nothing, they turned back toward the man, but found he was gone. 

Casey whipped his head around as he scanned the neighbourhood, spinning in a slow circle, but the man was nowhere to be found. 

“What the hell?” Severide asked as he, too, looked to see where the man had gone. 

“No idea. But everything about that interaction was strange.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here before any more weirdos come our way.”

As they slid into Severide’s car and he started the engine, Casey said. “We’re going though, right?”

Severide pulled away from the curb and shot Casey a sideway’s glance as he straightened the car on the road. “Are you crazy? You want to go to that nut job's house after dark?”

Casey rolled his eyes. “What, are you scared? It sounds like he has a legitimate problem. What if the house is one sparking wire away from bursting into flames? It’s our duty as firefighters to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Severide sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Fine, we can go. But I get to tell you ‘I told you so’ if he murders us.”

Casey chuckled and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Sev.”

Once the sun went down and the kids came out to Trick or Treat, Casey placed a bowl of candy outside their door and the two of them left for the old man’s house. 

When they were driving up the street, Casey noticed how deserted it was. The further they went down it, the more spread out the houses became. The street lights thinned until there were none and a dark and looming forest greeting them as they travelled the last two miles to the house. When they arrived, the house sat upon a small hill. It was huge, like an old-style mansion, tall pointed eaves and gothic-style windows that painted a ghostly face that shone in the moonlight on the house's front. 

Severide parked the car by the curb and they got out, Casey staring at the house while his boyfriend went around the back of the car to get their tools. The driveway was long, the foot of it guarded by a large metal gate, tall iron spires sticking their points toward the inky sky, the rusty metal emitting a faint gleam in the moonlight. 

“Here’s your flashlight,” Severide said as he joined Casey, a bag with different tools they would need to use in their investigation slung over his shoulder.

Casey took the item and then started toward the house. He pushed tentatively on the metal gate, and it swung open, thankfully unlocked, rusty hinges screeching in the quiet night. 

He and Severide continued forward, his boyfriend clicking on his flashlight as sweeping the beam across the yard, illuminating an overgrown lawn covered in leaves and dead shrubs, litter scattered throughout the wilting grass. 

As they walked up the wooden steps, worn with age and falling apart from mold, they creaked under their weight, wood bowing slightly with each step. When they got to the door, Casey knocked, not sure if the old man was there. 

His knock echoed through the empty house, but no one came to the door. After a moment, however, the front door clicked and swung wide open, revealing an aged oak staircase and a dark hallway. 

The house smelt of dust and mildew as they walked in, dust particles floating in Severide’s flashlight beam as their feet stirred the dirt layer on the floor. 

“Homey,” Severide said as his flashlight searched the stained wallpaper peeling in strips down the high walls, cobwebs coating every corner and hanging down in thick strings coated in dust. 

“Let’s just do our sweep and then get out of here,” Casey responded as he turned to the right, clicking his flashlight on. 

“Oh, not so keen to explore the creepy house owned by the equally creepy man now, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Severide’s chuckle followed him into the room, which looked to be the parlour room. It was filled with furniture covered in white cloth, giving the dark room an eerie vibe, like ghosts frozen in time. 

As Casey swept his flashlight through the room, he located a light switch. Waking over, he flipped it and a high-pitched hum filled the air before the crackling of the lightbulbs followed, lights flickering overhead. But then they flickered, growing bright and then dim, before they went out completely and the room was plunged back into darkness. 

“Guess he was right about the electricity,” Casey mused.

“Who would have thought,” Severide said as he crept through the room, floorboards squeaking beneath his feet. 

“Pass me the wire tracer?” Casey asked and Severide dug around in his back before he passed over the radio sized device. The blonde turned it on and began to scan the walls, locating the wires with the device. They didn’t look frayed, nor were they emitting any heat that would suggest a problem. This room appeared to be clear. 

Severide was rummaging around in the kitchen, just through a pair of decrepit double doors. Casey couldn’t see him, but he could hear him walking around, moving stuff on the counters. The blonde moved to join him, but paused as a chill brushed past his neck, causing the baby hairs to stand up straight. He whipped around, scanning the dark room with his flashlight, but nothing was amiss. 

It was probably a draft; the house was old and falling apart after all. He brushed it off, despite the bad feeling, and turned back to the kitchen where he could still hear Sev. 

“Hey, did you feel…” his words died on his lips as he entered the kitchen and found it was empty. The footsteps and other sounds stopped as soon as he crossed the threshold. Casey’s heart began to quicken as sweat slicked his palms. What the hell? How was he supposed to debunk that? It had sounded like Severide had been in the room, his heavy boots thunking clearly on the floor. 

A knock against the far wall pushed him over the edge and he quickly exited the room, back into the hall, calling, “Sev?!”

As Casey rounded the corner, he almost collided with his boyfriend.

“Woah Case, what’s wrong?”

Casey glanced back at the kitchen doorway, sweeping his flashlight beam over it. “I dunno, I was hearing noises.” He turned back to Severide feeling a bit silly now that he was no longer alone. “I might have overreacted.”

Severide craned his neck to look at the kitchen. “This house is weird. Let’s finish our sweep and get the hell out of here.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They walked down the hall and back to the foyer where the large oak staircase was, delicate carvings etched into the rails, dull with dust and time. 

When they reached the top, moon beams spilling onto the floor from one of the high gloomy windows, Casey and Severide decided to split up, despite the sinking feeling that Casey couldn’t shake. But it would mean that they could get out of here faster and after his experience in the kitchen, Casey was more than ready to leave.

Severide went left while Casey went right, scanning the walls with the wire tracer. The Captain ended up in a small room, filled with a few dusty bookshelves piled high with disintegrating books bound in leather. 

He made sure to scan every inch of the room before he clipped the device to his belt loop and took a moment to look closer with his flashlight. A book caught his eye on one of the shelves. It stood out from the rest, older and more worn down then the rest. Casey grabbed at the top of it, tipping the leather spine back to pull the book free, but it didn’t budge. He frowned and pulled harder, wondering what it was stuck on, when something clicked and the book tipped down 90 degrees. 

A loud whirring filled the air, metallic thunks like gears turning, though it was grated and slow like they hadn’t been used for in ages. Then Casey stumbled as the bookshelf moved, spinning, and brought Casey with it. He clutched to the shelf to make sure he didn’t fall, body jerking as the bookshelf came to a sudden stop. When he turned and looked around, he was no longer in the bookshelf room. Instead, he was in a long room, dark and full of cobwebs, but also stuffed with objects. 

Unnerved, Casey hesitantly walked forward, clicking on his flashlight that had gone off, so he could see his surroundings better. 

As the light illuminated the tables, he saw different books, pages splayed, the words in a language he had never seen before, scattered with images of creatures not of this earth. There were also different vials, some tall, some short, some empty and others full of a mysterious dark liquid. There were dried plants hanging from the ceiling, weird symbols on the wall, and a crystal ball sitting at the end of everything, oddly clean despite the dust-coated room. Casey felt himself being drawn to it, mesmerized even though his mind was screaming at him to run, to get as far away as possible. 

But his body continued forward until he was standing in front of the crystal ball. He set his flashlight on the table, face up, so the room was cast in long, eerie shadows. With his free hands, he reached out and pressed his fingertips into the cool glass. It warmed quickly under his touch and Casey’s eyes widened as something seemed to swirl deep within the orb, causing the centre to grow cloudy. The blonde looked closer, entranced, as something started to form. Blurry at first, it shifted into a shape, almost like a face. 

The face shrunk away and Casey’s brows furrowed. Where had it gone? What even was it? Then the face filled the crystal ball so there was no glass left, every detail clear as its open mouth gaped, pointed teeth dripping with saliva, its eyes empty black sockets. The face was stretched and warped, pale in a way that no living thing could be. As it filled the orb, an ear piercing scream whistled through the room, threatening to burst Casey’s ear drums. 

He clapped his hands over his ears as his heart dropped into his stomach, air leaving his lungs as the face continued to distort.

With his ears still covered, Casey watched in horror as something loomed behind the crystal ball, tall and shrouded in a white mist. Hands reached out, claws like razors ready to strike, and then the scream died as quickly as it had started. Casey dropped his hands as he stared at the thing in front of him, frozen in terror. Time seemed to freeze, the thing not moving, Casey not breathing, before it shrieked, face popping out from the white veil, a crevice of death and darkness. Then the ball burst off the table, flying toward the end of the room and crashing to the bookshelf with a loud crash before he heard it roll across the floor. Then something shattered to his left, one of the vials, and it was enough to get Casey’s body working again. 

He turned and ran but suddenly crashed to the floor as he tripped over something, probably the crystal ball that had started all of this, and his right ankle rolled painfully underneath him before he smacked into the wooden floor hard. 

Pushing past the pain, Casey was on his feet in an instant, blind terror urging him forward. He smacked into the bookshelf hands first, flashlight long gone, and he scrambled for the lever that would get him back out of this room. 

He clawed at the shelf, fingers stinging as nails split, but then they caught on something and he felt the object move beneath his fingertips before the whole unit started spinning again. 

When it had spun fully back around, Casey took off out of the dark room, limping heavily on his hurt ankle. 

“Kelly!” He practically screamed, panic and sheer terror the only things coursing through him.

He ran into the hall and this time he did collide with Severide, bouncing off his boyfriend’s well-muscled chest. He would have been on the floor again if not for Severide’s quick reflexes, hand grabbing his arms and steadying him. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy Matt,” Severide said, eyes wide and bright with concern in the moonlight. 

“Sev, we need to go. We need to get out of here,” Casey said, words blurring together as his breaths came in panicked bursts. He tried to push past his boyfriend, but Severide held firm on his arms. 

“Wait, Matt. What’s going on? And are you limping?”

Casey pulled back and looked to Severide with wild eyes, his skin electrified with panic. 

“Please, Kel, please. We need to leave.”

Seeing the state Casey was in, Severide nodded. “Okay, let’s go, Case.”

Severide led the blonde down the hall, getting him to lean heavily on him since he was limping badly. They made their way down the stairs and out the door, Casey not looking back once as they walked down the path and through the rusted gates. It wasn’t until they were back at Severide’s car and they slipped inside, Casey locking the doors behind them, that the blonde relaxed slightly.

He let out a shaky breath as he clenched and unclenched his hands resting on his thighs. 

“How bad are you hurt?” Severide asked and Casey shook his head.

“It’s fine, just, please, drive. I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

“Okay, Case. We’re going, I promise.”

Severide turned his engine over and then shot away from the curb. When they had driven a few minutes in silence, the house long disappeared from the rearview mirror, Casey relaxed completely, feeling so much better now that he was away from whatever was in the walls of that house. 

“Will you tell me what happened?” Severide asked gently and Casey knew he wasn’t demanding, just letting Casey know that he was there to listen.

Casey let out a breath, his nervous system calming, and told Severide everything that had happened in that room, everything he had seen. There was a moment of silence when he was done and Casey asked, “do you think I’m crazy?”

Severide shot him a quick glance, no judgement anywhere on his face, as he reached out a hand and gripped it over Casey’s. 

“No, Case. I don’t think you’re crazy. That house was giving me bad vibes. And if you say you saw that, then I believe you.”

Casey let out a small laugh even though he didn’t think any of this situation was funny. “I don’t even know If I believe it myself.”

“I’ve never seen you so freaked, Case. Something was wrong in that house. Whether it was ghosts, who knows, but if you said something happened, then I believe that it happened.”

Casey licked his dry lips and nodded, the tension in his chest unknotting slightly now that he knew Severide didn’t think he was absolutely insane. “Thanks, Kel.”

Severide squeezed his hand. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Honestly, I still need to even process what happened. But I think so, as long as we never go back there again. Even better, we skip all things horror related for a while. Including Halloween.”

“Done. Now how about your physical injuries? Do you think your ankle is broken?”

“Nah,” Casey said, wincing slightly as he flexed his right foot. “It hurts like hell, but it’s most likely a bad sprain.”

Severide nodded. “Now that I can deal with. I already know you aren’t going to want to go to the hospital, so I’ll patch you up with the first aid kit at home.”

Casey turned his head to look at his boyfriend, chest warming and driving away the darkness that encroached on him after what happened in the room. 

“This is why I love you. You know me so well.”

“Oh, and here I thought you loved me for my body. I recall you saying something once or twice about the way you love to stare at my ass whenever you get the chance.”

“Hmm, that’s okay too I guess,” Casey said, pretending to think but grinned when Severide looked over at him, a mock frown on his face. 

It was these kinds of moments, the ones that let Casey know how much Severide brightened his life, pushed all the negative thoughts away and only left room for the good ones. That no matter what dangers came his way, whether firehouse dangers or unexpected ones off shift, he would always be able to get through it with Severide by his side.