Chapter Text
Chapter Thirteen
Gabby knocks quietly in the door before stepping into the hospital room. Severide is behind her, followed by Stella and Slyvie. The bed is empty and she stops, causing a minor pile up as the others crash into her. For a second, before the sound of running water registers, she's panic stricken.
The toilet in the en-suite flushes and Casey shuffles out of the door, good hand clenched around a crutch, Beth on his bad side, giving him support. He's pale, sweat dampened hair falling into his face, but he's grinning, quietly triumphant. He's dressed in checked pajama bottoms and a grey tshirt and she's never seen him look so good.
It's the longest he's been on his feet since the accident. He sees them and stops walking, face running through a range of emotions before he grins again. "Something smells great!"
"It's good to see you up, Matt," Slyvie says, nudging Gabby with her elbow. "What were you doing?
He ducks his head, unusually lost for words. "Ah… using the facilities," he says.
"Congrats, bud," Severide says. "Though I never thought I'd be congratulating you for taking a leak."
It startles a pained laugh out of Casey. "Me either, believe me."
He’s been in the hospital for the best part of two weeks and stuck in bed for most of that time. Being able to move, even if it hurts, feels damn good. Standing, even with Beth's support, is starting to hurt. He shuffles towards the bed, letting Beth direct his motions because lifting his bad leg is still agonising. He's out of breath by the time he's settled, and wishing for another dose of painkillers. Twelve hours since the epidural had been removed and while he's glad of the freedom, his pelvis still throbs like an infected tooth when the painkillers wear off.
The bag in Stella's hands is a minor distraction. It bears the logo of his favourite burger joint and the smell is making his mouth water, appetite roaring back after days of liquid nutrition and hospital food.
"It's okay, right?" Stella asks.
"Sure, though I'm not cleaning it up if he pukes." Beth says and Stella blanches. "No, honestly, it's fine. He needs the calories."
"He can hear you," Casey replies. "He is also starving. Dish it up," he says, but he's smiling.
Beth hooks his IV back up and the liquid warmth of morphine creeps slowly through his veins.
"Thanks," he says quietly to her as Sylvie helps Stella to portion out the food.
"You're welcome, Matt," she says and smiles, reaching over to steal a fry as Severide slides a paper plate of food onto Casey's bedside table. "Draw the curtains round guys, and try to keep the noise down, okay?" She says and leaves, shutting the door firmly behind her.
"Yes, ma'am," Severide says and hands Casey a chocolate milkshake.
It takes a second but they all find comfortable spots to sit. No-one speaks for a moment as they tuck into the food.
"What prompted this?" Casey asks after swallowing a mouthful of burger. It's hot, the sauce and cheese and condiments the perfect blend of sweet and tangy and crunchy. The milkshake is cold and thick and rich and he takes small sips, knowing that as much as he's enjoying it right now, it won't be nearly as good coming back up.
"Rough shift," Gabby says, but doesn't elaborate.
Casey doesn't press her. Now he knows to look for them, he can see the signs they've all had a bad day. The crinkle in Severide's brow, the deep shadows under Sylvie's eyes, the way Stella keeps frowning, the restless motions of Gabby's hands. They all need a distraction and he has news that should do it.
"I might be getting out of here in a couple of days," he says casually, biting a fry in half while the words sink in. "They want the anesthesiologist to see me again and I need enough xrays to make me glow but I could be home by the weekend." It’s still four whole days away but even the thought of being home is making him giddy. He wants his own bed, his own surroundings, and all that they offer.
"Babe that's great!" Gabby says and hugs him. He gets his good arm around her and hugs back. The pressure hurts his ribs but the contract feels damn good. He's spent the last two weeks either being poked or prodded, or treated like spun sugar, something delicate that had to be treated with the utmost care. It's another brick in the foundation of normalcy and he welcomes it.
"Be good to get some fresh air and sun," Casey says. As hospital rooms go, the one he's in is okay, but he's getting sick of staring at the same floor walls. Even the view out of the window isn't great, just a car park and a stretch of road.
"Well, if you need a ride, I'm game," Severide says and Stella snorts.
"Yeah, because he's going to be able to get in that thing you call a car. If it gets any lower, it'll be a skateboard," she says, smiling to take any sting out of the words.
Severide blinks then laughs. "Yeah, mine might not be the best transport," he concedes.
"I have a sensible sedan," Sylvie says and takes a swallow of her strawberry milkshake. "Happy to give you a lift if you need it."
He's touched, deeply touched, by the offers. The easy teasing helps too, thawing something deep inside of him that he's been afraid to look at too deeply. He's healing well, apparently, but no-one can tell him if he'll ever get back to normal, regain what he lost in the accident and it scares him, because his life is built around his body and what he can do with it. He's missed his friends, missed the social circle that goes with the fire house and he's terrified that he'll never make it back.
Something must have shown on his face, because Gabby touches his arm. "What's wrong?" She asks and he shakes his head, not wanting to burden them with worries he can't do anything about.
"I'm okay." He shrugs and it hurts. "I missed this, that's all."
"You'll be back at work before you know it," Gabby says, an edge in her voice like she knows the words might not be quite true.
"Maybe," Casey says, and wants to drag the word back as soon as it leaves his lips. "Look, don't worry about it, okay?" he says and tries a smile that feels strained, forced.
Gabby opens her mouth to answer when her phone beeps. They all do, and a shudder of dread shoots through Casey. There's only one reason why it would happen; something has gone very badly wrong in the city he loves.
Severide checks his texts and curses. "Jesus Christ," he says softly.
"Bad?" Casey asks, but he can already see the answer on their faces.
"Train derailment, we're being called in. Damn thing was full of sleeper cars and it sounds like they were at capacity." Severide jams his phone into his pocket. "Sorry, Matt," he says.
"I get it. Go." Casey waves towards the door. "Stay safe," he adds as Gabby kisses his cheek.
"Here," she says and puts a phone and charger on his table. "It's set up. It was going to be a surprise but I'll ring you as soon as I can," she says and dashes out of the door, following the others.
Casey watches the door swing closed behind her and wishes he was going with them. Sitting and waiting is going to be torture, but it's all he's physically capable of right now so he grits his teeth and picks up the phone, opening the browser. Someone is bound to have news on the accident and while it's not much of a distraction, it might just be enough.
He closes his eyes for a second, sending a quick thought out into the universe. Stay safe guys. Come home in one piece. It's more superstitious than he normally goes for but given all he's been through, he can't help it. Any anyway, firefighters are a superstitious bunch. Even if you don't start out that way, it grows on you. He figures it's just part and parcel of defying the odds like they do every day.
It's not much but it's all he can do. He just hopes it works because seeing his friends head out into danger and not being able to help them is the hardest thing he's ever done.