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Chapter Text

Casey knew it might not the best idea to invite Heather to his place. It was too obvious, the way she “coincidentally” drove by and how she was “missing an earring”, and then bluntly telling him she was having a night off and asking him if they could have dinner. She wanted to pick it up where she left it the night after the academy dinner, when she kissed him in the car, and he had been so dumbstruck he didn’t even pull back.

It was the last thing he wanted. Not even because Heather was the widow of his late best friend. He liked her well enough, but to be honest, they had never been that close. He’d just been polite, taking her to the academy dinner, and he had to admit it had been nice not to have to go there alone. To not be reminded how he constantly fucked up the relationships in his life for one evening.

And of course, he was about to fuck that one up too. That’s why he needed to talk to Heather, somewhere not in passing. He might not be close friends with her, but at this point, it was either drifting apart completely, or maintain at least a friendly enough relationship so they could talk from time to time, and he could still see Andy’s boys. Besides, he thought, it might be a chance to talk to her about Severide. It wasn’t fair she put all the blame on him.

Things between him and Severide were still… rocky. The rift in their friendship was painfully wide and he didn’t know if it would ever close completely again. Come to think of it, Casey did not have any close friends left. Not that he’d ever had much. He’d been the awkward one all through his life, not a lot of people had wanted to befriend him. And he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly who got to know people easily.

With Dawson, the friendship they’d had was fucked up ever since their date-or-not-date at her cousin’s Christmas party. It hadn’t taken her very long to move along with Peter Mills after that. Not that he blamed her, who would wait for someone as messed up as him to sort through his feelings if they could have someone else, someone confident who knew what he wanted and was not afraid to make a move. Worse was the Voight thing, and as much as he wanted to help her brother, Dawson going to Voight, a man who was willing to pay someone to kill him, felt like betrayal. Casey wasn’t sure if he could forgive her for that.

Hallie left him. Well, it had been a mutual decision. And not for the first time. If he was being honest, Hallie and he had never really worked out. He loved her; he truly did, and he liked to think she loved him. But it wasn’t enough to share a life. There was too much keeping them apart, and not least them being from two completely different worlds that never really met.

His mother left without so much as a goodbye. She didn’t say what it was his father had said about him that made her snap. Casey thought it couldn’t have been something she hadn’t heard before; he hadn’t heard before. His father hadn’t exactly been showering him with compliments. It wasn’t the explanation he had hoped for. Somehow, it just felt like she was putting the blame on him.

As for Christie… they were on speaking terms somehow, and he tried, but every time he saw her, there was that hurt, that deep hurt of being abandoned, that hurt of getting the door slammed into his face just because he had a different perspective on things than she did.

All in all, Casey thought, there had to be something really wrong with him if nobody wanted to stay around.

And he felt so damn alone and desperate that he almost gave in to Heather. Because, damn, why can’t we be happy, wasn’t she right?

But he didn’t. Not only because of Andy, like he told her. Because he knew she didn’t really want him. She was alone, and grieving, and looking for some distraction, searching for the fleeting touch of someone’s warmth.

He was tempted to give in because it’s what he was longing for, too.

But he didn’t.

They ate, they talked, they watched a movie. He was relieved they could act normal around each other, there wasn’t too much awkwardness after that kiss.

Heather fell asleep, and he put a blanket over her before he went to bed himself.

Casey thought it had been a nice enough evening. One not spent alone. Heather seemed a bit embarrassed the next morning, but they would be okay.

The feeling of confidence only lasted a short time though. Until Severide appeared at his door, to be precisely. For about two seconds, Casey felt stupidly happy about seeing his friend.

But of course, Heather had to call out in exact that moment. And of course, Severide would get it all wrong.

And maybe saying it’s not what it looks like only made it worse.

There was rage in Severide’s eyes and his short words were cutting, and Casey knew they were back on square one.

It hurt. It hurt so deeply that for a moment, he thought he couldn’t breathe.

Casey honestly didn’t know why he even tried to explain himself. He shouldn’t have to explain anything. If Severide knew him at all, he would know he would never sleep with Heather.

But since when did Kelly Severide give a damn about what he had to say. He assumed, and so it was settled for him, and he didn’t even consider he might assume wrong.

It sure didn’t help Casey’s mood to hear about the plans of pushing Mills to Squad. Hearing both the chief and Severide had it all figured out without even asking him.

But that’s how it worked, wasn’t it. Let the stupid truckies do the hard work of shaping a candidate into a firefighter and then snatch him away for glorious squad. Fine. If he wanted Mills, he could get him. Let’s see how good that would work out, with those two bone-headed know-it-alls. And maybe he was a bit unfair to Mills here, but the young man had an arrogant strike to him, one quite similar to Severide. And Severide would not like him breaking his own record, that much was for sure, and if Casey would bet, he was only pushing Mills because Benny told him not to.

So yes, he was pissed, Casey would admit to that. Still, he did not want the anger to linger between them. He understood Severide would have gotten the wrong impression, and he understood he was hurt and maybe a bit angry about the way Heather treated him ever since Andy died, and he did have reason to. Casey figured it would be best to talk it out, clear the air and not let the anger simmer. That’s why he went looking for Severide on the app floor where the squad lieutenant was changing the blade on the saw.

“Heather Darden and me? We’re just friends. She came over to talk and fell asleep on the couch.”

“Right. Got it.” Severide still sounded pissed, beyond pissed actually, and he took the saw and walked away, obviously not wanting to talk. He followed him, not wanting to leave it at that, wanting to – he didn’t even know.

“I don’t know what you want me to say here.” Why did he have to justify himself? He didn’t do anything wrong.

“I saw what I saw, Casey. Sell your bullshit to someone else, cause I ain’t buying it.”

You did not see anything, he wanted to yell, because how the fuck was he so self-righteous about it? “Can’t imagine you might be wrong about something, can you.” His voice was getting sharp now, too.

“I can imagine a lot of things.” Severide opened a compartment of his rig and put the saw in. “Just not the idea of you whoring around with Andy’s widow.”

Casey just gaped, Severide’s harsh words cutting into his heart, his soul. It wasn’t the worst that everyone was listening in by now – Mouch, Cruz, Tony. Dawson, Shay. Worst was that Severide didn’t even take a second to consider he might be wrong. He assumed, and because he did, his mind was set, and nothing Casey ever said would change that.

“Come on.” It was only half-heartedly, more a frustrated sigh than the try to make him drop it. He knew he wouldn’t. The only thing he could do was walk away.

But Severide wasn’t done. He came behind him, yelling loud enough by now so the rest of the house would hear it too. “Explain to me why Heather barely talks to me, but she’ll sleep with you, even if you’re the guy who put her husband through that window.”

He stopped frozen. He looked back, disbelieving. So, that was what he was thinking. Really thinking, still, after all those months. He was blaming him for Andy. Well, he made it clear from the very first moment, when he punched him to the face right there on the scene. Part of Casey had been hoping it had just been the rage of the moment. All the insults that followed just the hurt of the first weeks of grieving. Part of him had been naïve enough to think Severide wasn’t really blaming him, that it was just the hurt, and his inability to deal, with the loss and with his injury. But none of those were counting as an excuse anymore. It was almost a year. His injury was healed. He wasn’t on drugs. It was just him, Kelly Severide pure and honest.

He was blaming him for Andy’s death. He never stopped thinking it was his, Casey’s, fault.

Casey had no words to say. Something in him broke, and he wasn’t sure if he would have lunged at Severide or just walked away if the shots hadn’t disrupted everything.

Glass was shattering right at his head level, and something hot and burning grazed along his ear. He threw himself to the ground on instinct, some more rapid fired shots following, more glass shattering and raining down on him.

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. He heard shouts through the ringing in his ears, then Boden’s voice like through thick fog. “Casey, you okay?”

And all he thought was, great, he’s been within ear shot to have heard all of Severide’s accusations.

Slowly, he scrambled up, mumbling, “I’m fine” out of pure habit. There were glass shards in his hair and embedded in his face, some in his hands too. There was a sharp pain right over his ear, and when he felt over it, there was blood on his fingertips.

Boden grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, steering him towards the ambo. He tried to brush him off. “I’m fine.” The physical pain was nothing compared to the knife Severide just rammed into him.

“Let them check you.” The chief’s voice left no room for argument. He sat down with blank features, Shay and Dawson fussing around him. Severide lingered in the background for a second, then he walked away.

Of course he did. He’d been a fool to ever think he cared about him. He’d always just tolerated him because for some reason, Andy had liked him. Without Andy, there was no reason for Severide to hide his dislike of him any longer.

“Damn it, Casey, that was a close one.” Dawson let out a nervous chuckle while she inspected the wound on his ear and applied disinfectant. He didn’t answer, just thought why would she care, she was collaborating with the cop who tried to get him killed, and probably still was, who could know that. Voight sure was someone who called in favours, and he would be someone to seek revenge as well, and part of him hated his bitter thoughts, but he couldn’t help them either.

Shay was busy picking glass shards out of his face with forceps, and Boden hovered nearby after he’d called police. Casey just wanted to disappear to his office, to lick the real wound. The one Severide had ripped into his chest and that just wouldn’t stop bleeding, making everything else irrelevant.

Police didn’t have a clue about what was going on. One of them actually brought up Voight, claiming since he had a lot of influence on gang people, it might be his doing. Casey dismissed it, even though he wasn’t so sure. Hearing Voight had a dismissal hearing coming up sure did nothing to lighten the weight on his shoulders. It made him anxious, and he almost called Hallie, because he so desperately wanted to talk to someone, and he didn’t know who else to talk to. But she was somewhere in South America, and the last thing he wanted was to worry her or open up old wounds.

So, he did what he always did, dealing on his own. He and Severide didn’t exchange another word for the rest of shift. Casey did, in fact, not talk to anyone unless he had to during an ongoing call. It just felt to be a better idea to hide behind his walls. It wasn’t as if anyone called him up on it.

The cuts in his face were stinging, and the graze on his ear hurt more than he would like to admit. Dawson was right; it had been a close one. Strangely though, the thought didn’t bother him. Who would miss him anyway if the bullet hadn’t only grazed him? Not Severide, that one was for sure.

Slowly, he walked over the apron, alone. The air was cold and freshly fallen snow crunched under his boots. While he fumbled for the keys of his truck, his eye caught sight of some kids messing around with one of the hydrants across the streets. He thought the scene should tell him something, but his mind was empty, and he drove off. Back to his empty house and his empty life.

Chapter Text

If he’d had a tiny hope that things would smooth out by next shift, he lost it the moment Cruz announced the kid they’d pulled out of the laundry shaft a few days ago didn’t make it. The mood was set after that, tense and unhappy.

Casey heard with half an ear how Herrmann tried to call his father, and it made something inside him sting, thinking he could never call his father. Not his mother either, he didn’t even have a number. Not his sister, too afraid she would just slam the door in his face again.

Not anyone else, because there simply was no-one else.

The only thing he could do was get through it on his own. And didn’t he have a lot of practice in that. He remembered, back before he was accepted to the Fire Academy, he’d sworn to never be dependable on someone else again, to never let anyone close enough to his heart they could hurt him. He was successful long enough, least until he met Andy Darden. Andy just didn’t let him stay on his own like he was trying to. And for one single, irrational second Casey wished he’d never met Andy, because then, it would’ve worked, and he wouldn’t feel the pain of losing everyone who ever meant something to him again.

He might have been able to get through the day if only Severide had left him alone. But no, he couldn’t let it go, he needed to grab the knife and twist it, just so the wound didn’t stop bleeding.

“You know what the worst part is?” Severide actually managed to sound hurt, as if he was the one who’d been punched, approaching him in the semi-quiet of the tower, perhaps to make sure everyone in the common room didn’t miss out on round two. Casey just threw a tired look over his shoulder before he leant his head against his hand, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of him.

“What is the worst part, Kelly?”

“That you don’t have enough sack to admit you’re sleeping with Heather.” There he was again, self-righteous, know-it-all Kelly Severide. “At least come clean.”

“Keep walking.” There was a hinge of annoyance in his voice, and he flashed another glare back before he turned away again. “I’m done explaining myself.” Severide wasn’t interested in the truth anyway.

“You haven’t explained a damn thing, that’s the point!” He was yelling again, and Casey lost it, jumping up and shouting himself.

“’Cause you’re wrong!” But while his gaze bore into the squad lieutenant, he realised it was pointless. He could say whatever he wanted, Severide wasn’t listening, he didn’t want to listen unless he heard what he’d laid out in his head, and he would just keep on pushing him.

“Don’t come up on me again like this.” There was still a little sharpness to his voice, but all he felt was weariness. He did not want to go through this again.

Severide scoffed. “Really? That’s all you…”

“What the hell is going on here?!” Boden barked, approaching from behind. His gaze flew between his two lieutenants, taking in the tension, and he ordered sharply, “In my office. Now.”

They stood in tense silence for at least a minute before the chief spoke. “We’ve been here before. Almost tore this house apart.”

“This time it’s different”, Severide stated.

“Tell me about it”, Boden demanded. And Severide turned to Casey, with so much disdain in his eyes, and hate in his voice, and all this self-righteous stance about him, like he didn’t have to do anything with all this, it was just Casey’s wrongdoing, and he was the knight in shining armour for calling him out on it. “Yeah, Casey, tell him about it.”

The knife was pulled out to leave him bleeding. He stared at Severide, and somehow, he felt strangely distanced, slowly realising something he never wanted to see.

In the end, all he said was, “I’m finished, Chief.” And there was way more meaning to his words than just ending the conversation.

He walked out, his heart and soul empty.

When he watched Mills pulling out the money from behind the buttons on the cooker, it clicked. The hydrants. Of course.

Casey said he was going to get the food, just so he didn’t have to share his thoughts with anyone. It was cold, and fresh snow had been falling for hours, but he actually didn’t need to wait for long before he spotted the kids from two days ago, tampering with one of the hydrants just around the corner.

Casey got out of his truck and slowly crossed the street, approaching the group of kids. “I want to talk to whoever is in charge.” It could be a really bad idea. But right now, he didn’t care. He didn’t have anything to lose. He felt dead inside anyway.

They took him to a dark, crammed apartment. The blinds were down, some shooter game playing on a monitor in the background. Various bottles of booze on the low couch table. A big, muscular guy was lazily lifting weights, as if to demonstrate his superior strength. A black male who looked as if he was barely out of school glared up at him, not bothering to get up. The door fell shut behind Casey, the sound making him slightly flinch.

“You’re in charge?”

“Who wants to know?” The guy did his best to sound bored and intimidating at the same time.

“My name’s Casey. I’m a lieutenant at Firehouse 51 down the street.”

“So?” One of the man’s goons, the big one with the weights, got up, positioning himself threateningly. Casey tried to not show nervousness.

“Someone tried to pop a couple shots into the house in broad daylight. Could have killed someone.” Nearly killed me. His ear was still hurting. Not that this was about him. “Someone who works to protect this neighbourhood every single day. Now I know why. You guys hide your drugs in the hydrants. Don’t you?”

The gangsters exchanged looks. It wasn’t the kind of looks that would make him less nervous. But he just wanted to get his message across, he didn’t really care what happened to him afterwards.

“Look, we have to flush those hydrants twice a year. Otherwise, one of these buildings is on fire, yours maybe, it burns down because there is no water in our hoses. Now I’m not stupid enough to think you guys are going to give up selling your junk because I came in here but I’m telling you – you hide it in the hydrants, it’s going to get flushed.”

“You done?” the one in charge asked, sounding purposely bored. The big guy slowly walked behind Casey, bringing himself between the firefighter and the door.

“No. Like it or not, we all got to co-exist here, right? This is our neighbourhood. You don’t own it.” He turned, hoping they would just let him leave, though somehow, he doubted it. The big guy was still blocking the door. The boss slowly got up, too.

“And neither do you.” He got into his face. He stared at Casey, and then back at his people. “Seems the fireman is done with his lecture. How about we give him one in return?” Raw laughter. The big guy was still between him and the door.

Casey could block the first punch, but then his arms were grabbed and pulled behind him by the big guy. He struggled, but he wasn’t able to counter his strength. He got punched, stomach, ribs, face, each blow harder than the last.

He didn’t care. He just thought there was no-one to come back to anyway. And if they killed him, no-one would miss him. Mouch and Herrmann would probably complain about having to adjust to a new lieutenant. But he’d be forgotten quickly.

He had no idea how long the gangsters used him as a punching bag. His vision was blurry, and he could barely breathe through the blood in his nose by the time they threw him out on the cold street. “Don’t come back”, big guy hissed before he delivered one final kick to his side. They let him lay with his face in the snow.

He didn’t know how much time passed, if time passed at all. The cold slowly seeped into his bones, snow melting under the warmth of his body and leaving his clothes wet. His truck was only a few feet away. Bu it seemed too far to even try.

Eventually, he scrambled up to his knees. He wondered where all the blood came from that coloured the snow red. Then he realised it had to be from his face. He wiped a shaking hand over it, and it came back with more blood. He should definitely wash his face before he returned to the firehouse.

He got up eventually and stumbled towards his truck. Before he got in, he carefully felt over his ribcage. Nothing seemed to be broken. He would be pretty bruised by tomorrow, and he felt a bit nauseous, but it wasn’t too bad. Nothing he hadn’t had before.

Casey used the bathroom at a gas station to wash his face. It took a while until all the blood was gone, and he would have to leave his sweatshirt in the truck if he wanted to avoid questions. Before he got the food he promised to bring he bought some make-up in a nearby drug store and covered up the cuts and bruises on his face that weren’t from the glass shards the other day. And wasn’t it sad how much practice he had in that.

Squad had gotten their own lunch, separating themselves from truck again. Casey thought he should be angry about it, about them following their lieutenant’s childish behaviour. But he found he felt nothing, he just didn’t care.

There was only one thing to do for him, and instead of sitting down with the others, he went to see the chief.

Boden waved him in, and he closed the door.

“Care to explain what’s going on now?” the chief asked.

Casey pressed his lips tightly together, trying not to wince while he lowered himself down into one of the chairs. “I have nothing to explain or justify myself for. If Severide chooses to take his assumptions over my word, then there’s nothing I can do about it. But that’s not why I’m here.” He took a deep breath. “I’m asking you for a transfer. Effective immediately.”

Boden was shocked, it was written all over his features. Clearly, he had not expected this. He leant back, searching for words.

Casey didn’t wait for him to find some. “Don’t try talking me out of it. I don’t care if there’s an open spot somewhere or if it means I’ll get kicked to the floater pool. I don’t want to work another shift with Severide. And no, there’s no way to settle this, ‘cause I’m tired of trying, and he doesn’t trust me.”

Boden nodded slowly. “You’ve made up your mind.”

“I have.”

“Did he – do this you?” The chief gestured vaguely. Casey brushed a hand over his split lip. It wasn’t possible to cover that.

“No.” He almost laughed. Because wasn’t it telling, Boden thinking Severide had beaten him up.

“Then what the hell happened to you?”

“I don’t want to tell. It has nothing to do with the situation here.” That was only half a lie. And if his little “talk” with the gang made them reconsider their hiding spaces, and leave the house alone, it was worth a few bruises.

Boden was silent for quite a while. “You don’t want to think it over some more? Give it another shift?”

“No. I’ll finish this shift, but I prefer to not come back. I’ll take furlough if necessary.”

“Okay.” The chief knew when there was no ground to gain. He took a pink form from his drawer and filled out the basics before he slid it over for him to sign. Casey didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll see what I can do, in terms of finding a good placement for you.”

“Thanks, Chief. I appreciate it.”

They got up, and Boden held his hand out for him to shake. “I’m sorry to see you go, Casey.”

It was surreal when he cleared out his locker the next morning. He had told his crew, before shift change, because it wouldn’t be right to just disappear on them. Nobody had said much, they’d been too shocked, and he’d told them bluntly it was pointless to try changing his mind. He’d felt a little sting in that moment, because he could read in their faces he was disappointing them.

But they would get over it. In a few weeks, nobody would even think of him anymore.

The few personal things from his office had been cleared out quickly, and he was already half-way through his locker when Severide stormed in.

“What the hell, Casey?!”

“I guess Boden told you.” He didn’t even look at the squad lieutenant, features perfectly neutral.

“So, this is how you’re handling things now? Running away? ‘Cause you can’t deal with…”

Casey threw the locker shut with a loud bang, cutting him off. He turned towards Severide with cold fury in his eyes. “You’re the one who can’t deal, Severide. And I’ve got enough. Enough of playing punching bag for you. So yes, this is it. We’re done.”

Maybe Severide paled, just a little bit. But there was still this self-righteous glimmer in his eyes, still this it is all your fault to his voice. “What do you mean, we’re done? You can’t just leave.”

“The hell I can.” His voice was dangerously low. “And we’re done, because I’m just sick of dealing with your attitude. You’ve known me for what, fifteen years, and still, you take your assumptions over my word. You obviously don’t know me at all if you’re seriously thinking I would even consider sleeping with my best friend’s widow. I’m sick of you jumping to conclusions and blame me for your imaginations. Or maybe you’ve just been looking for a reason to push me down again, since obviously, you think I’m the reason Andy died. And I’m sorry I ever mistook us for friends.”

“You can’t be serious.” Severide’s voice had dropped considerably by now. “How – are you saying we’ve never been friends? You can’t believe that.”

He almost laughed in his face. “Really? You know what a friend would have done? He would have taken up on the offer to talk it out. He would have said it hurts she’s all friendly with you while she puts all the blame on me. And I would have told you that I think she’s treating you unfair, and it was one of the reasons I invited her to come over in the first place, because I realised there were some things that needed to be cleared between her and us, and not just because she kissed me after the academy dinner, and it freaked me out. But you, you needed just one second to have all the answers. You were never interested in hearing the truth. You just jumped at the chance to come at me.”

“So, there has been something going on between you and her.”

He gaped at him. Unbelievable. “Really, Severide? That’s what you’re hearing through all of this?” He huffed. “Proves my point, doesn’t it. And I’m sick of it. I’m done. We’re not friends anymore, if we have ever been.” He took up the box with his belongings and walked out without looking back.

The tears only began to fall once he’d brought some miles between him and 51.

Chapter Text

Severide stood and watched Casey leave, his last words echoing in his mind like a distant thunder, we’re not friends anymore, and part of him wanted to run behind him and grab him and throw him against the next wall and shake him until he got an answer. Why. Why are you doing this to me?!

But he couldn’t move. He stood glued to the ground, something freezing over inside of him.

Then, the anger was back with full force. The hot, searing anger that burned down everything around him. He let out a deep, feral roar and smashed his fist against the locker that held Casey’s name for so long and now was blank, laughing into his face mockingly. It hurt like a bitch, pain shooting up his arm into his shoulder and neck. But he didn’t care.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real. Casey throwing everything they had, everything they’d ever been away.

Which hadn’t been much lately, he’d admit to that. But how dare he say they’d never been friends? Was it really how he felt? Did it all mean nothing to him?

And wasn’t he the one pushing everyone away each time things got a little rough, building that wall of ice around him nobody was allowed to cross?

Severide gritted his teeth, fighting against the tears burning behind his eyes while he fumbled with the lock on his own locker. Why didn’t you hold him back, he’d asked Boden when the chief gave him the news about ten minutes ago. There was nothing I could have done, the chief just said. And he’d looked at him with his intense stare as if it was all his, Severide’s, fault.

He knew exactly what looks he would get from Truck next shift. It was always as simple for them, fault the hot head from Squad.

Just because his emotions were exploding, and Casey’s were imploding. So, his anger was plain to see for everybody, and Casey’s was well-hidden behind his stupid stoic mask.

And he didn’t talk. He never talked. He just got that look about him as if he was carrying all the hurt of the world alone. It made Severide’s blood boil. Because just fucking say what you got to say, and clear the air, and then it’s okay. But no. Casey swallowed it all down, to chew on it for ages, and then erupt like a volcano without a warning.

Severide knew he had a temper, and he was well aware he didn’t always find the best way to handle things, especially not when the emotions were still running high. He knew he tended to lash out and bite harder than necessary when something bothered him. And Casey triggered him in a way no-one else did.

They weren’t in the best place. Ever since Andy died, they’d been struggling. Everything was still so raw, and the wound so deep, and barely even scabbed. It was still too easy to rip it open again. And yes, he might be harsh in his words, and he might say things in the heat of the moment he didn’t really mean. But he’d never, never, end a friendship of fifteen years just like that. Not for all the hurt in the world. He wasn’t vindictive. He exploded, and afterwards he needed to cool off, and sometimes, cooling off took a while. But then he was ready to move on.

What happened to Andy wasn’t Casey’s fault, not more than his own. But he was just as responsible as he was. They had been the officers in charge on the scene. They were responsible. Andy should have never climbed through that window without a vent.

And they were to blame, both he and Casey, in equal parts, for failing to keep him safe.

But still, in Heather’s eyes, Severide was the devil, and Casey was the saint.

How on Earth was that fair?

He tried, as hard as he could. He’d been the one who told her, because he thought he owed her that much. It had been the fucking hardest thing he’d ever done.

Maybe he should have let Casey do it. Maybe she’d hate him then. But Andy had been his childhood friend, and he’d thought he should be the one to tell her. Now see what it got him.

He tried to be there for her. Support her with everything, the funeral, the boys. She pushed him away. He understood. She was hurt and grieving, and he left her space. He tried again. She pushed him away again. Even now, even if it was almost a year. She still blamed him.

She didn’t let him near her sons. One of whom was his godson. She wasn’t respecting Andy’s wishes, for him to be there for the boys if something happened to him. To her, he was the snake who seduced her husband into a job that got him killed.

But not Casey. She never had a problem with Casey. She wasn’t even too shy to go on a date with him, to the academy dinner of all places. Casey could try to frame it as her “hanging out with the group” as much as he wanted; Severide wasn’t blind. He saw how she made eyes at him all evening.

Heather always had a slight crush on Casey. Severide used to make fun of it, even Andy did, while Casey was totally oblivious to it.

And maybe he still was. Maybe he’d really not seen it as a date, accompanying her to the event. But he’d invited Heather over to his place for dinner. He could not seriously think that wasn’t a date. And she stayed the night.

So, what the hell was he supposed to think? Casey wasn’t the choirboy he liked to pretend he was. Severide had enough stories to tell that were proof to that. And even if deep down, he knew Casey hadn’t slept with Heather, it had still been like a punch to the gut. A knife stabbed into his heart. For a lot of reasons.

Yes, it hadn’t been his best moment, accusing Casey of whoring around with Heather loud enough for everyone to hear. Shaming him in front of his crew, in front of the chief. He’d seen the hurt in Casey’s eyes before he turned away, and it had pierced his heart. But he’d just been so angry.

Oh, it had been stupid, of course. His thoughts about how the morning could turn out, when he took the bottle from Benny and said he would give it to Casey. And he’d driven by his house before shift because he’d wanted – he didn’t even know. Andy’s death had ripped them apart, and he’d come to realise more and more how much he hated the rift between them. He’d wanted to close that gap, to start spending time together again, like they used to. Just talk to him outside of the scenery of work. Have breakfast together, maybe.

But Casey hadn’t been alone. And Severide’s disappointment turned into hot flaring anger in the blink of an eye once he’d realised who was with him.

It wasn’t as if the thought of Casey with somebody else made him angry. But the thought of Casey with Heather was – he had no words to describe how it felt.

Knowing Casey hadn’t actually slept with her only made it worse. Saint Casey the Flawless, always doing the right thing.

And he’d called him self-righteous.

She, Heather, she would have slept with him, Severide was sure about that. She’d jump into bed with Casey, but him, she still was barely greeting.

I don’t know what you want me to say here.

He’d so wanted to punch him then. He might have, if those shots hadn’t disrupted them. Because really? You can’t imagine how fucking painful it is to watch my best friend’s widow being all lovely and homey with you while she hates me? How about you say, I’m sorry she treats you like crap, and I’ll put in a good word for you. Why am I the one pushed away, rejected, shunned? How is that fair?

And if you were my friend, you’d put in a good word for me, but you never did, did you?

So, maybe Casey was right. Maybe they’d never been friends.

If he wanted to walk out, fine. He sure as hell wouldn’t crawl behind him and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t need a friend who just threw fifteen shared years into a trash can in passing without even blinking.

Severide ignored the tears rolling down his cheeks as he walked over the snow-covered pavements towards his car.

Casey was sick for the better part of the day, and he was definitely pissing blood. The pain in his abdomen got worse, from something dull to pure agony, and in the early evening, he called a cab and drove to the ER. Not Lakeshore and not Med either, some smaller clinic in another area of the city where no-one would know him.

He waited for hours, and he was soaked in cold sweat by the time he was finally brought to an examination bay. The nurse did an ultrasound of his abdomen, and the pressure of the device against his skin almost made him scream. The nurse’s face scrunched up, and she left to get a doctor. The doctor took another look, and then talked about trauma to his kidney in a worried tone, and Casey thought he should probably be worried too, but at this point, he was too out of it. The doctor said a CT was required to assess the extent of the damage, but his circulation was too unstable, so it was scheduled for tomorrow.

He was admitted overnight, pumped with painkillers and fluids. He was exhausted, but thanks to the persistent nausea could barely sleep, still puking up his guts every hour even though his stomach was long since empty. They were careful with medication due to his kidney, and he had to live through the misery. It wasn’t the worst of it though. Worst was the pity in the nurse’s eyes when she asked if she should call someone for him and he said there wasn’t anybody.

Boden called the next morning to tell him he had indeed been put into the floater pool for the time being, there wasn’t any permanent spots open at the moment. Casey didn’t care; actually, he thought it was better to not have to adjust to another house. As a floater, there was no danger to get close to the people he was working with, and no expectations to socialise.

He didn’t tell Boden he was in the hospital. He kept the call short, thanking the chief for his effort. Boden hesitated on the other end of the line, as if he wanted to say something else, but in the end just settled for, “Good luck, Casey.” It sounded an awful lot like a farewell.

He was taken for the CT soon after, and he almost fell asleep in the tube, he was that exhausted. It took another few hours until the doctor came to talk him through the results, and he was glad to be back in his room until then, drifting off into a restless slumber.

Of course, Severide flickered through his dreams. Staring at him with hateful eyes. Punching into his stomach, again and again. It’s your fault, he yelled. It’s all your fault.

When he woke, his face was wet from tears. His whole body hurt, the bruises, the wound on his ear, he was pretty sure it was inflamed.

He didn’t care. He deserved the pain. He deserved being alone through all of it. He chose to be alone.

It was still better than to hope only to be disappointed again. Better than seeing the hate in Severide’s eyes. Being alone was something he could handle. Something he was familiar with.

The doctor came and explained the damage to his kidney wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. It should heal on its own, but he would have to have his renal function monitored as it was likely it wouldn’t be up to full capacity for quite a while, and maybe not ever. He was discharged with the instruction to keep strict bed rest as long as there was still blood in his urine. Casey just thought it was a good thing the doctor didn’t know him, otherwise, he wouldn’t have trusted him to be compliant, and probably kept him for another day.

But since paperwork obviously needed more than two days to come through, he had the next day off, and actually found himself following the doctor’s orders, at least for about twenty-four hours, and if only because the pain was still pretty bad, and he didn’t find much reason to get up anyway.

Boden didn’t tell anything about why Casey left 51 when he announced it to the whole of second shift at roll call, just said it was personal reasons. Nobody had missed him and Severide fighting through the last two shifts of course, and Herrmann considered asking the squad lieutenant about what was going on for a minute. But then, he decided not to, thinking the poor guy looked beaten down enough as it was. Instead, he cornered Shay in a quiet minute.

“Any idea what’s going on with those two knuckleheads?”

The blonde paramedic rolled her eyes. “Not sure if I want to know.” She blew out a breath. “Honestly, I thought they were through the most of it, you know, after Darden. Kelly’s not let on much… says Casey’s cancelled their friendship. Pretends to be cool with it, which he quite obviously isn’t. But what do I know.”

“Oh boy.” Herrmann rubbed a hand over his face. “Casey really did that? I mean, we all know things have been rough between them, but I’d never thought… Any chance to fix this?”

Shay shrugged. “No idea. Knowing Kelly, he’ll be wallowing in his anger for a while. Casey – can’t say I know him well enough to make any assumptions. What I do know though is that they are two stubborn sons of bitches who suck at communicating.”

“Yeah, no kidding”, Herrmann sighed. “Anything we can do? I’d hate to see it end like this, with them pretending to not care about each other when even a blind goose can see they do. Maybe we should, I don’t know, kidnap them and lock them into the storage room at Molly’s for a few days.”

Shay’s lips quirked into a small smile. “As much as I like the idea, at this point, I’m not sure if it wouldn’t end with them killing each other. Maybe just give it some time to let cool off whatever this is.”

Herrmann nodded thoughtfully. Not much to be done here. What was it Darden used to say? Just let them be the stupid stubborn asses they are, they’ll come around.

He hoped that still held true. Because unlike before, this time, there was no Andy Darden around to make them come around if need be.

And that might make all the difference.

Chapter Text

Casey was sent to different houses for each shift the following weeks, covering short-term absences. It suited him well; this way, he could focus on work, no need to socialise.

Every now and then, when he hopped out of the rig on a scene and called for Herrmann or Mouch out of habit, he felt a sting. Or when his eyes roamed over all the firefighters around in the middle of a chaotic scene, searching for Severide to make sure he was alright, and he was reminded he’d cut him out of his life. But it would pass eventually. It was only a matter of adjustment.

Casey tried not to wonder about how Severide was. It was none of his business, not anymore. It hadn’t been ever since Andy died, when Severide pushed him away, making it crystal clear he didn’t want him in his life anymore.

It had been the right decision to walk away. To not imburse that tiny flame of hope each time he saw him just to have it stomped out shortly after. Killing that flame on his own term for once had been the only sensible thing to do.

At least that was what he was telling himself every day, every time the hurt threatened to overwhelm him. In truth, walking out of 51, walking out on Severide had left a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Like the one from the bullet on his ear, and he found himself in the hospital again before too long. They had to cut away necrotic tissue, meaning essentially to cut off the tip of his ear. It looked weird, but he would get used to it. And again, he spent a night in a hospital bed alone and miserable. He told himself he didn’t mind. He was fine on his own, he’d always been. His body didn’t take well to the antibiotics, and he puked his guts up for two days. He was still back on shift on the third. The days he didn’t take shifts in random firehouses, he spent on construction sites, accepting every job he could possibly schedule, working until exhaustion forced him to stop. Everything to not have to return to his empty house.

Herrmann had stopped calling eventually. Once or twice, he’d briefly talked to him, but Casey had refused to explain anything, and essentially asked Herrmann to not call him again. And he didn’t. He still sent texts, every now and then, announcing some event at Molly’s mostly and asking if he would show up.

Casey didn’t answer, and he didn’t show up at Molly’s. He had no desire to see what he had lost. What he decided to give up. And most of all, he had no desire to walk into Severide.

He didn’t talk much to Heather either. She reminded him too much of everything that went wrong. Losing Andy first, and now Kelly. Ever since the fallout with Kelly, talking to her was tense, and he thought part of him blamed her for what happened, regardless of knowing it wasn’t fair, it had been his decision. Still, he kept the contact to a minimum, only ever responded when she needed something for the boys. Heather noticed his newfound distance and stopped asking him for help eventually. He was relieved.

Weeks turned into months. The snow turned into rain and the rain into a burning heat. He’d gotten used to his new routine. Mostly, he didn’t know from shift to shift where he would end up. And he was glad about it. No personal attachment, everything strictly professional. He worked as much as he could, only returning to his place to collapse from sheer exhaustion. If he was more existing than living, he didn’t even notice.

Herrmann thought he’d spotted Casey’s name on one of the turnouts somewhere in the chaos of the high-rise fire they’d been called to. But it was only after the worst of it was over and they were taking a short break while the engines on scene tackled the rest of the flames that he really saw him. The lieutenant sat on the bumper of a rig, blonde hair sticking up in every direction like it always used to after he’d pulled his mask off. He was coughing, quite violently, and one of the paramedics that were still on scene was talking to him. Herrmann wondered if he should go over and say hallo at least. But something made him just watch.

“Is that Casey?” Otis appeared beside him, looking in the same direction. Herrmann nodded without taking his gaze away. “Yeah.”

“Geez, he looks awful”, the younger man commented, shaking his head before he walked away to continue gathering their tools. He had obviously no desire to speak to their former lieutenant. Herrmann knew some of Truck had taken offence by his abrupt leaving. He would lie to say he hadn’t been hurt himself, even more so when Casey let it be known to him he wanted no closer contact anymore.

Watching for another moment, Herrmann saw how the paramedic listened to Casey’s lungs and shook her head. She put a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder and spoke to him insistently. Eventually, he nodded, and followed her to an ambo.

When they passed only a few feet from Herrmann, he got a better look at the man, and the older firefighter was shocked and sad at the same time.

With the turnouts, it was hard to tell if he’d lost weight, but from his haggard face, it was a safe bet. Even through the soot he looked pale, more sick than healthy. Seeing him climb into the ambo without so much as resistance did nothing to contradict that impression.

Once the rear doors were closed, Herrmann approached the paramedic who rounded the rig to climb on the driver’s seat. “What’s with the lieutenant?”

She smiled at him. “Probably just some smoke inhalation. He’ll be fine.”

He nodded and mumbled a thanks, but somehow, he wasn’t reassured.

Back at the station, it was Otis who announced, “So, we’ve seen Casey at the high-rise fire”, while they shuffled into the common room. Squad hadn’t been there; they’d been out at another scene when the call came in. Herrmann noticed how Severide tried to act disinterested but was listening intensely. Dawson arched a brow. “And? You talked to him?”

Otis shrugged. “I didn’t. You, Herrmann?”

The older firefighter shook his head. “No time.”

“I think he was with Truck 66. But far as I know he’s still floating”, Mouch provided. “But haven’t talked to him either.”

“Well, it’s not as if he’s interested in keeping in touch anyway”, Dawson remarked, a little sharp. Her relationship with Casey had been frosty ever since the Voight thing, Herrmann was aware of that, but he also knew she too was pissed about the way he left without so much as a word.

“He looked rather sick.” He had no idea why he even said it. Whatever it was between Casey and Severide, it was none of his business. And he couldn’t hold it against Dawson or Otis that he was not exactly on their good side. But truth was, he was worried about their former lieutenant. And Severide might act as if he didn’t give a care in the world, but Herrmann knew from Shay he was devastated.

It was the blonde paramedic who gave him a thoughtful look before carefully asking, “How do you mean?”

At that, he could only shrug. “Don’t know… seemed to have lost quite some weight. And he was taken to the hospital, smoke inhalation perhaps, and he didn’t try to talk himself out of it.” Everyone in this room knew that was a safe indicator for something being not alright with Casey.

But it wasn’t their concern anymore, and so, nobody said much to it. Severide’s gaze bore into Herrmann for about two seconds, then he turned away and walked out.

Herrmann seriously thought they should reconsider the idea of kidnapping both lieutenants and lock them into a room until they talked it out.

Severide walked out of the common room without looking at anyone. He didn’t think about what Herrmann said. He didn’t give a fucking damn.

It had been months. Months since Casey threw those devastating words at him. We’re not friends anymore. Ripping a hole into his heart, no, ripping his heart out of his chest and stomping on it.

He’d lost count on how often Shay told him to pull his head out of his ass and talk to Casey. But why in the world was it on him to make a move? Casey had made it very clear he didn’t want him in his life anymore, hadn’t even considered him a friend to begin with. So, fuck him. He sure as hell wouldn’t beg for him to reconsider. He wasn’t that pathetic.

He didn’t need Casey. He had Shay, and 51. Casey had chosen to turn his back on all of them, if he was alone and miserable now, it was his own fault.

And still, the hole in his heart was bleeding, a wound too big to heal. Andy first, and then Casey.

If only he could stop thinking about the day they first met. At Andy’s wedding of all places.

Severide had been the best man, and Casey one of the groomsmen. A groomsman who missed the bachelor party, and Severide wasn’t very impressed with the guy. Didn’t help Andy never stopped saying they should meet and yet hadn’t introduced them until now. In fact, Severide was a bit annoyed about this Casey dude Andy was so fond of ever since joining the academy and who always failed to be available when he was hanging out with Andy.

Severide was musing about how the guy had to be an imaginary friend, or a ghost maybe, while he was helping Andy to get ready. When there was a short knock at the door, Andy said with a smirk, “Here’s the ghost. Beware to not get spooked. – Come!”

The door opened, and Severide could swear his heart set out for a moment.

It wasn’t as if there was something special about him. He wore a simple grey suit with a white button-down shirt and a blue tie, just like Severide himself. He was tall, but not big, well-trained but lean. Nothing that would have drawn Severide’s attention.

It was the eyes. Sparkling blue eyes with the depth of an ocean. And his smile. A smile that turned his whole face into pure sunshine. Extraordinary eyes and a smile making him the most handsome guy Severide had ever seen, and he’d spent his life among well-build, neat firefighters. Blonde hair and light freckles around his nose didn’t hurt either.

“You must be Severide. The guy Andy never stops talking about.”

“Yes, and once he’s done staring and able to form words again, he’ll tell you you’re the guy I never stop talking about”, Andy laughed. “Matt Casey – Kelly Severide. Close your mouth, Severide, you’ve got plenty of time to admire my “imaginary friend” later.”

To his defence, Severide recovered fast, and Casey didn’t make a big deal of his initial staring. At least he didn’t let it on. They got along pretty much at once and ended being the last at the bar after everyone else had left the party, talking through the whole of the night.

Andy always joked about having set them up. Platonically. He used to wink at Kelly when he added that. Kelly never gave it too much thought, not wanting to hear the answer to a question he wasn’t ready to ask.

It wasn’t as if he and Casey were all heart and soul like in the movies, or always saw eye to eye. But they were comfortable with each other, in a very simple yet deeply connected way. Somehow, they had this kind of understanding that didn’t need words.

Least Kelly always thought they did.

He’d never have imagined it meant so little to Matt.

And that was the worst about it.

Severide was so deep in thoughts he didn’t hear the light footsteps, and he barely heard the soft knocking at his door. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Heather standing there.

“Casey’s not here anymore.” There was just no way she came to see him.

“I know.” She tried a smile. It was a bit forced. “I came to talk to you.”

He stared at her, too bewildered to form words.

“Mind if I…” Heather gestured uncertainly, and he nodded hurriedly, asking her to come in. When she closed the door behind her, it occurred to him she hadn’t set foot in the firehouse ever since Andy died.

She sat down on his bunk with her hands between her knees. “Did you talk to Matt?”

“He doesn’t talk to me”, Severide replied briskly. He didn’t want to talk about Casey, least of all with Heather.

Heather sighed. “Listen, I know what it looked like. But there never happened anything between Matt and me.” Her cheeks were slightly reddening, and she turned her head away. “Not that I haven’t thought about it, I’ll admit as much. But that’s not the point.”

“What do you want, Heather?” It came out sharper than intended. But if she came to defend Casey, she could as well safe her breath.

“I… apologise, I guess?” She met his gaze again. “Let’s be honest, Kelly. We’ve never been the best of friends.”

Yeah. She always liked Casey better.

Everyone liked Casey better.

“And I… kind of needed a scape goat, and it was easy to pick you.” Heather wiped at her eyes. “Andy would have hated how I treated you. But I was so angry. Why him.”

“I know the feeling”, Kelly mumbled. “I was angry for a long time too.” Ready to put the blame on Casey. On the world. On anything, to not have to deal with his own responsibility.

“Thing is, every time I look at you, I see Andy. With Matt, it was different.” Heather thought, frowning deeply. “I don’t know, maybe because he came in later, when Andy and I already had been together for a while, were engaged. You, on the other hand… you and Andy have always been a package. I haven’t known him without you in the picture.” She shrugged. “If that makes any sense.”

“I guess it does.” Kelly sighed. “Look, I get it. You not wanting to spend time with me. And it’s fine. But I’d really like to be there for the boys. I promised Andy I would.”

Heather nodded. “I know. And I thought… maybe you’d like to take Griffin for his hockey training at the weekend?”

Kelly’s face lit up a little. “Of course, I’d love to.”

“Great.” Heather smiled, slowly getting up. “I’ll text you the details.”

She was already at the door when she turned back around. “Have you – do you know how Matt’s doing? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

If Severide was surprised by this revelation, he didn’t let it show. Trying to sound nonchalant, he shrugged. “No. He’s cancelled our friendship. I don’t think anyone has heard from him in a while.”

“He’s what?” Heather’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “What – you can’t be serious. What happened?”

You happened. “I’m damn serious. Maybe you should ask him why he thinks we’ve never even been friends.”

Heather shook her head. “So… you haven’t been talking? Since when?”

“Nope. Not for a few months.”

“Kelly, you know Matt’s struggling with depression, don’t you?”

Severide had turned away, but something in her tone made his head snap back, and he stared at her without saying anything. There must have shown some sort of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, as she sighed and explained, “I overhead Andy and him talking once. Matt said he had those… dark periods on a regular. And I know Hallie tried to talk him into taking some kind of medication, which he refused. What I’m trying to say is, someone should look after him. And that someone better not be me, because I would probably end up leaning on him again instead of being the support he needs.”

“Heather, I appreciate you trying to watch out for Casey, but he ended things between us, not me. I’m obviously not someone he wants to lean on anymore, and I sure as hell won’t chum up.”

Heather looked at him intensely for a moment. Then she said, “I don’t know what happened, and I’m in no position to tell you what to do. But I remember Andy always said you two were only whole with one another. Like, how did he put it – “Casey is the part I never realised Severide was missing”. So, whatever it is, don’t just let him walk out on you.”

She left before he could say anything to that. And Severide thought bitterly, it was easy to talk if you weren’t the one whose best friend told you to the face he was done with you.

Casey had agreed to be taken to the hospital, not because he agreed with the paramedic’s assessment, but because he simply was too tired to argue. And maybe because part of him wasn’t keen to finish his shift as substitute on Tommy Welch’s rig. 66 didn’t have a bad crew. But it was Welch’s people, nevertheless.

He waited in an examination bay for a doctor to assess him, breathing into an oxygen mask. Or coughing, more accurately. A cough that had been persistent for a while now. Nothing more than a small annoyance, a summer flu maybe. The doctor would tell him to rest for a few days, and he would ignore it. As predictable as the change of the seasons. For now, he was just glad no-one was bothering him.

Eventually, a doctor showed up. He looked at his file. He listened to his lungs. He asked about his symptoms, things like how long he’d had the cough, if he was short on breath when he was exercising, if he was sleeping well, and Casey was a bit irritated but answered, albeit downplaying like it was his second nature. The doctor frowned, and made some notes, and then announced he wanted to do a few tests. Casey frowned in return, claiming he had a shift to return to. The doctor insisted, and he gave in, not having a choice since he was told he wouldn’t be discharged otherwise.

He was taken for an x-ray. A nurse took his blood, and he was asked for a urine sample as well. He was left waiting in an examination bay again, alone and feeling exhausted.

The doctor came back with a sincere expression on his face, bringing another doctor who had a sincere expression as well, and they sat down and talked to him in a sincere tone.

There were more tests required. Matt nodded numbly. Shook his head when the doctor asked if he wanted him to call someone. There’s nobody.

It was all just a bad dream. A dream to wake up from he was wishing in vain.

But then again, what was there to wake up to anyway.

Chapter Text

He got a CT and a bronchoscopy scheduled for the next day. The doctor said he could be accompanied by someone, and Casey didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. For a split second, when the doctor was gone and he walked towards the exit in a daze, he thought about calling Christie. But he dismissed the thought almost immediately. From his experience, she wasn’t reliable. And he’d rather get through it all alone than hold onto the hope she would appear only to be disappointed again. An all too familiar feeling he had no desire to go through again.

Back at the firehouse in Austin, he put on a fake smile, telling whoever was asking he was fine. Walking towards Welch’s office, he admitted to himself he missed 51 for the first time. The comfort of familiar faces. Herrmann ranting about things he didn’t understand. All the crazy ideas Otis presented with shining eyes only to get them talked down by the others. Capp’s stupid jokes nobody laughed about. Mouch complaining about everything involving him having to leave his spot on the couch. Even Dawson and Mills shamelessly flirting in the kitchen.

Severide, he tried very hard not to think about. But when he lay on Tommy Welch’s bunk, tossing and turning, it was always his face popping into his mind, his captivating grin, his sparkling blue eyes, the first traces of silver starting to show in his dark hair.

And he wondered, not for the first time, if he should have tried harder. Should have found a way to talk it out, to save their friendship.

But no matter how hard he tried; he could not see it end any differently. Severide hadn’t been willing to talk, and he could not put up with his aggressiveness anymore. Who could tell what would make the squad lieutenant’s emotions go haywire next. Whenever he got into that state of mind, Severide lost every ability to see left or right. And his blows were nothing but brutal.

They used to fuel Casey’s anger, and he shot back just the same. But sometimes, he simply didn’t have the energy. And then he took the hit and swallowed the hurt. This time, he almost choked on it.

And he didn’t have a single ounce of energy left. Ever since Andy, Severide wasn’t able to listen to anything. He was impossible to talk to. Casey really didn’t know why he was the one who had to reason. He was tired of it. Tired of defending himself. Tired of always having to show understanding for the other’s hurt. Not when he was just as hurt.

So, no, he didn’t know how he could have handled it differently.

Despite having had a relatively quiet night, Herrmann had barely found some rest. He just couldn’t shake the image of a pale and exhausted Casey walking towards the ambulance off his mind. He’d even considered calling Maggie at Med and ask if she knew anything. But it seemed kind of intrusive, and he decided against it. Instead, Herrmann took a detour before driving home after shift. Seeing Casey’s truck parked on the curb, he thought he was lucky. But when he walked up to the house and knocked, nobody answered. Looking around, he noticed the blinds were down. So, either Casey was sleeping, or he wasn’t home after all. Frowning, Herrmann pulled his phone from his pocket. He thought for a moment, then dialled. The answer came promptly.

“Hey, Chief – since Pelham’s out next shift, did you already call in for a floater?”

After a sleepless night, Casey drove home and packed a bag before he called a cab to the hospital. He was set up in a room for the day, since all the examinations would take a while. The CT was done first. Afterwards, he waited for more than an hour before he was taken to another section of the hospital for the bronchoscopy. The procedure wasn’t exactly fun; it didn’t hurt, but regardless of being sedated it felt uncomfortable. And of course, he didn’t take well to the sedatives and ended up throwing up for about an hour afterwards. His hurting throat was on fire and his voice almost gone.

He lied and said a friend was waiting for him at home, so he was discharged when the worst of the sedatives had worn off and he hadn’t been puking for another hour. The doctor came and explained the CT had confirmed his suspicions, there was something in his lungs that shouldn’t be there, and he would have more detailed results from the biopsy they took in a few days, and he would call him then to talk about the next steps. He asked if he had any questions so far and Casey had about a million, but he shook his head, some desperate part of him thinking if he didn’t hear the word, if he didn’t put a label on it, then there would still be a chance for the biopsy results being something harmless. The doctor told him he needed to rest for at least another twenty-four hours for the sedatives to completely leave his system, but he didn’t explicitly say he couldn’t work afterwards, and Casey didn’t ask.

He drove home in a cab. He walked into his house in a strange kind of daze that hadn’t left him since the other day. He opened the closet where he kept the medicine and took a bottle with sleeping pills out Hallie had once encouraged him to take, and he’d never touched. He shook some on his hand and then just stared at them with a frown. Eventually, he threw the pills into the trash along with the rest of the bottle.

He switched on the TV and collapsed on the couch, soon falling into a restless slumber. Somewhen into the night, he woke up soaked in cold sweat, the clammy fingers of weird dreams still grasping for him. He stumbled into the bedroom and crawled under the covers, thinking it would be nice to not have to get up ever again.

Two days later, Casey found himself in front of the firehouse he’d never wanted to return to. It’s just two shifts, he told himself. But his feet were glued to the ground, refusing to carry him over the apron.

He could have called in sick. But sitting at home with nothing to do but wait for the doctor to call was worse. So, he forced his feet to move, walking in slowly with his head bowed, only to find himself in front of his old locker. Staring at it without his name on it, and he felt a strange emptiness. He didn’t belong anymore.

Casey tried to smile when Boden announced he would be covering for his successor on Truck for the next two shifts. The atmosphere was frosty though, and he didn’t exactly read happiness in the faces surrounding him. Not that he blamed them. All the time he tried very hard not to look at Severide, the squad lieutenant’s gaze piercing into him, boring a hole in his head. Fast as he could, he fled the scrutinising and reproachful looks to hide in his office. Well, not his office anymore, he reminded himself.

Peace only lasted so long; Truck being called out to free a child who managed to get stuck in a fence while trying to recover his football from the neighbour’s garden. The call went smoothly, but the atmosphere on Truck was tense. Casey wasn’t exactly in the mood for conversation, and so part of him was glad nobody seemed wanting to talk to him. It still hurt though.

But he shouldn’t complain. He was the one who cut all the ties, didn’t want to look back. It was his own fault he was isolated now.

Herrmann and he worked in perfect synch like the well-oiled team they once were. Casey tried to ignore the looks the older firefighter sent his way, as much as he tried to stifle the coughs scratching at his throat. Not with much success though, now that he knew it was there, he seemed to feel it with every breath.

“Nice work, Casey”, Herrman said when it was done, giving his shoulder an approving pat. Casey managed a tiny smile and nod before he concentrated on gathering up the tools.

On the drive back, Cruz’ gaze flickered to him whenever the road allowed him to, and eventually, he remarked, “Geez, Lieutenant – you should get that cough looked at.”

“Already have.” His voice was raspy, and his throat hurt. He turned away, staring out the side window.

“You alright?” Cruz asked.

“Fine. Nothing to worry about.” Even to his own ears the words sounded as hollow as they were.

Back at the station, Herrmann held him back with a light touch to the arm before he could flee to the officer’s quarters again.

“Listen up. I know you needed some space, and I respected that. And the thing between you and Severide, that’s none of my business. But Casey - there’s no reason to isolate yourself from all of us. We used to be friends, least on my part.”

Casey felt a lump form in his throat, and he didn’t know what to say to this. He didn’t have any beef with Herrmann – or with the others, for that matter – but truth was, being around them reminded him too much of what he’d lost. It had been easier to cut the ties completely. And part of him was still hurt nobody had even tried to shield him from Severide’s accusations, and that part thought maybe they all believed he did have something going with Heather, and it assumed they would want nothing to do with him anymore. Even though the rational part of him knew it wasn’t true, least not in concerns to Herrmann, it was hard to let that thought go.

His phone rang before he had the chance to give an answer. One look at the number on the display was enough to make his mouth go dry, and he pressed out a tight, “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

Herrmann nodded, the expression on his features somewhere between sadness and resignation. Casey walked out onto the apron for some privacy, looking up at the clouded sky when he answered the phone.

Severide had been less than enthusiastic when Boden informed him Casey would be covering Truck the next two shifts. But when he saw Casey, he was shocked.

He had dark bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept for days. His usually clean-shaven face wore a five o’clock-shadow. He’d lost so much weight, it looked as if you could easily break him in two like a twig, and there was a persistent cough he tried to hide but failed.

Severide wanted nothing but to walk over to him and pull him into his arms and tell him everything was going to be alright.

But he couldn’t. Because it wasn’t, and Casey had decided to end their friendship, and it wasn’t on him to try and mend it. He couldn’t even look at him. Hell, it didn’t even look as if he wanted to stay friendly with anyone, if the way he brushed Herrmann off was anything to go by.

Severide thought about what Heather had said, about Casey being depressive, and he wondered if that was what made the man look so worn out. He couldn’t remember ever having seen him like this. He hadn’t known Casey was struggling with depression, and ever since Heather mentioned it, he couldn’t stop wondering if he should have noticed. Had he really been such a bad friend? Circling around himself too much, like Andy sometimes blamed him. Casey had never said something. But come to think of it, Casey never talked much about himself, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let something on that made him look weak. He had this need to appear strong, as much had Severide noticed over the years. Actually, they weren’t that different in that regard.

From the squad table Severide watched as Casey walked back in after he’d ended his call, looking absolutely stricken, and a part of him was itching to follow his former friend when he strolled towards the locker rooms.

But he didn’t. There was a high chance it would only end in them yelling at each other again. So, he shook his head and returned to his crossword, ignoring the questioning gazes from Capp and Tony.

Casey hid as well as he could the following hours, knowing that if Herrmann approached him again, he would most likely cave. Break down even. Time and again, he pulled his phone out, scrolling through the contacts, contemplating if he should call Christie. And every time, he decided against it. The risk she might reject him was too high to go for it.

That’s why he didn’t want to talk to Herrmann either, or any of the others. The chance of being let down was something he wasn’t willing to take anymore, nor did he have the strength to. Better be alone to begin with than to be left again.

In the afternoon, all units were called to a structure fire, and while he was roaming through the upper floor with Otis, it occurred to him this might be his last fire, at least for a very long time to come. Otis’ calls became a distant background noise, the doctor’s words still ringing in his ears, his talk about more testing for detailed classification, whatever that meant, looking for possible metastasis, and determining the best approach at treatment, and Casey found himself staring into the flames that were eating up the stairs, blocking their way down, and he wondered how it would feel to just walk into them, let them eat him up as well, if he would feel what Andy felt.

But he wasn’t alone, and he knew how it felt to watch, and so he pulled himself together and asked for the aerial at a window on the south-east side. Even through the mask he thought he could feel the smoke burning in his lungs, his voice raw and chest tight.

He climbed down the aerial behind Otis, pulling off his mask about half-way, stopping for a moment while some violent coughs shook his body, and he looked at his hand and thought he saw speckles of blood, but it was hard to tell against the black glove and maybe it was all his imagination.

He made the rest of the way far more slowly than he usually would, and by the time he reached the end of the aerial, he was soaked in sweat and breathing heavier than he should. Standing at the controls, Mouch cast him a worried look when he passed.

“Are you okay, Lieutenant?”

He only nodded, not trusting his voice. Mouch didn’t look reassured, but he was still busy, having to rearrange the aerial for Engine’s needs, and Casey managed to sneak away.

He unbuckled the straps of the oxygen tank, glad to get rid off the weight that seemed to be twice as heavy today. He tried to swallow down the next couple of coughs, but it was almost impossible, and now that he’d discarded his gloves, there was no denying the little specks of blood coming up.

“You okay?” He didn’t notice Shay appearing behind him and flinched a little at her voice. She handed him a bottle of water, playing it casually, but Casey knew her sharp eyes probably saw more than he would like.

“Fine.” He managed a crooked smile, taking the water and washing down the bad taste of whatever debris he’d coughed up. Thinking it most likely were tumour cells almost made him be sick.

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t say it. But her piercing eyes called him by his bullshit, and somehow, she managed to steer him towards the ambo.

Casey sighed. “Look, I’m already on top of this, got a follow-up with my doctor tomorrow.” So he can tell me how bad my chances are.

Shay nodded. “Okay. That’s good. Did he tell you it was okay to go to work, or was it just your stubborn unteachable self thinking it was?”

“He didn’t explicitly say I couldn’t”, Casey mumbled, finding himself sitting at the back of the ambo and Dawson holding an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. “Take some slow deep breaths”, she ordered, and he gave in, closing his eyes and breathing. He had to admit it felt good.

“What happened to your ear?” Dawson asked, curiosity paired with slight shock.

Casey shrugged. “From the bullet that grazed me when those idiots shot at the house. Got infected, they had to cut it off.”

“Ouch.” Dawson grimaced.

“It stopped, you know”, Shay remarked. “The day you went to “get lunch” and came back beaten up.”

He cast her a tiny smile. “You noticed that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. You didn’t cover up as well as you thought.” With a dramatic sigh, she sat down beside him. “I know the idiot over there, he’s been telling a lot of crap, totally unwarranted, and I know he can be the biggest jerk on Earth, but just so you know, he’s devastated. I really wished you two knuckleheads would just talk it out like grown people.”

Casey’s eyes flickered to where Severide took off his helmet and ran a hand over his sweat-soaked hair. As if he sensed his gaze, he looked up, and their eyes met, locking for a heartbeat.

Almost like the day they met. He’d heard so many crazy heroic stories about Andy’s childhood friend, son of legendary firefighter Benny Severide, he truly thought he had to be some arrogant bloke and was not too keen to meet him. Strangely though, when he walked into the room and their eyes locked into one another’s immediately, it was as if he’d known him forever. Something settled inside him as if he’d found a piece to his puzzle he didn’t know he had been missing.

He felt it in that heartbeat, too. An undeniable connection. But this time, Casey took his gaze away. There was no point in being connected anymore.

The night was quiet, but he still didn’t get a closed eye, and around 5 am, he left his quarters. Seeing the light in Boden’s office, he gathered up all his courage and walked up to the door, knocking lightly. Boden waved him in with an unreadable expression on his face. Nobody else was awake and there was no-one in the bullpen who could listen in, but Casey still closed the door. He remained stood, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. “I just wanted to let you know – I won’t be able to cover next shift. I’m sorry.”

The chief didn’t look surprised, his deep dark eyes lingering on him. “What’s going on with you, Casey?”

He swallowed hard, avoiding the other man’s gaze. “I don’t want to tell, Chief.” He didn’t answer directly to Boden anymore; he just came to tell him he’d need to ask for another floater in person out of respect.

“Okay.” Boden didn’t take his eyes away from him, and he added in a gentle voice, “Do you need anything?”

“Actually…” Casey fought hard against the tears burning behind his eyes. “I might need to put down a name as an emergency contact. I was thinking… if it’d be okay with you…”

“Of course.” Boden got up now, worry painted plainly on his face. “Matt, what’s going on?”

He held up a hand, taking a step back. “I really don’t want to talk about it. I’ll be fine – it’s just in case… I’ll be fine.” Never in his life had it been so hard to keep his voice steady. He couldn’t hold the chief’s gaze.

Eventually, Boden nodded acceptingly. “Alright. But please, call me if you need anything. Anytime. I mean it.”

He only managed a small nod. “Thanks, Chief. I appreciate it.”

Instead of returning to the office, he walked out on the apron, watching as the sun slowly rose, bathing the city in golden light. And in the middle of this spectacular show of nature’s beauty, tears were streaming freely down his face.

Chapter Text

The doctor had said he needed to abstain from any physical strain the day before the examination, and so, he had to wait for another day, doomed to sit at home staring at the walls. He was also to abstain from food for twelve hours, which wasn’t hard since he’d barely had an appetite for weeks. Not being allowed coffee was a different story though, and Casey was barely able to keep his eyes open when he left the house in the early morning, thinking he should perhaps re-evaluate his plan of driving himself.

Walking up to the street, he was surprised to find Boden standing there leaning against his car, seemingly waiting for him. He stopped in his tracks, blinking.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m driving you”, Boden simply answered.

“Chief, that’s not…”

He was cut off. “You don’t have to talk to me. But I’m driving you”, the chief stated, leaving no room for argument. And he gave in, not really having the energy to argue.

“How did you know when I had the appointment?” he asked once he was seated, and Boden ignited the engine.

The chief shrugged. “I might have taken advantage of some personal relationships with the staff at Med. And I only feel a little bad for it.”

Casey stared down at his hands, feeling totally defeated. “So, they told you.”

“They didn’t tell me anything beyond the scheduled time of your appointment, and I didn’t ask”, Boden clarified, casting a quick glance at him. “I respect your wish for privacy. But I also want you to know I am here.”

His words made tears well up in Casey’s eyes, and he wasn’t able to speak around the lump forming in his throat, and so he just continued to stare at his hands for the rest of the drive.

He fully expected to be thrown out at the entrance. Instead, Boden steered the car into a parking lot and walked him in. He kept a respectful distance while Casey talked to the nurse at the registration desk. He was told to wait for a moment, and Boden wordlessly sat down beside him on one of the uncomfortable chairs.

“You don’t have to do this”, Casey mumbled.

“I know”, Boden replied. After a few minutes of silence, the chief asked, “What can I do?” Casey’s bewildered gaze flickered to him, and he specified, “What can I do to make you see you’re cared for?”

Casey took his eyes away. “I’m not”, he mumbled. “I’m just the one everybody leaves.”

“I realise you truly believe that”, Boden said gently. “So, I’m asking again. What can I do to make you see you’re cared for?”

A nurse came to get him, sparing him to give an answer he didn’t have.

“I’ll be waiting”, the chief announced, and he wanted to tell him he should leave, but it felt somehow reassuring to know he was there, and Casey mumbled a whispered “thanks” before he followed the nurse for the next round of examinations.

The doctor, a man named Garland, came in to talk to him first, explaining what was going to happen. First, they would do a positron emission tomography combined with a CT, to take a detailed look at his body for any possible metastases. Dependant on what they saw, they might do an endotracheal ultrasound to take fine needle biopsies from certain lymph nodes, and maybe an additional MRI of his head to rule out brain metastases.

“I know it’s a lot”, Dr Garland said, “but after all of this, we will have a pretty good picture of what we are looking at and be able to determine the best approach at treatment. – As I already told you, the primary tumour is located in the inferior lobe of your right lung, and it is an adenocarcinoma, which is the most common among so-called non-small lung cancer. So, what we are going to determine now is if and to what extend lymph nodes are affected, and if the cancer has spread to any other organs. Do you have any questions so far?”

About a thousand things were running through his mind, but it was also so numb he could barely grasp a thought. So, he settled for the one that had been plaguing him for days, taking his sleep away from him.

“Will you have to take part of my lungs away?” Will you end my career as a firefighter.

The doctor gave him an earnest look. “The possibility to do a complete surgical resection of the tumour is what we are hoping for. But I’ll be able to explain the options to you once we’ve got a full picture. Anything else you want to know before we get started?”

He shook his head, thinking about the pills he threw in the trash the other day.

It was mostly a waiting game. First, he got his blood sugar determined. Afterwards, a radiotracer was given to him through an intravenous line, and he had to wait for an hour, with as limited movement as possible, and since his brain was to be looked at, not even allowed to read or listen to music. Eventually, he settled for closing his eyes, trying to silence his mind, not with much success, and most annoyingly, he kept seeing Severide’s face, with that electrifying smile of his.

The scan took almost another hour. Afterwards, he felt stiff and exhausted from having to lie still for so long, and he was glad to be able to walk around for a bit while he was waiting for his results.

It was hours. And he went sheer crazy, all the different scenarios running through his head, and he thought he’d read lung cancer almost always was a certain fatality, not in matters of if but only when, and he remembered all the times the thought of ending his life had crossed his mind, when the darkness was too overwhelming and the light too faint, and all those times, he realised he didn’t want to die, there still was some kind of purpose in his life. All of those battles, all of his will to see the good in life, just to have fate take it away from him? Didn’t sound very fair to him. And even if he didn’t die, if he survived all the struggle, he would still lose what was dearest to him, lose his purpose in life. If he couldn’t be a firefighter anymore, his life might as well end.

The longer he waited, the more anxious he got. He was sure Boden would be gone by now, considering all the hours that had passed, and he was alone with his dark thoughts. At some point, he was freaking out enough that he asked a nurse if Boden was still there. When she came back with the chief a few minutes later, such relief flooded him he started to shake.

Without hesitation, Boden sat down beside him and wrapped a strong arm around him, and he found himself burying his face in the chief’s broad shoulder, barely able to hold back the tears.

“It’s going to be okay”, Boden mumbled, and that was when the first sob left his throat because maybe it wouldn’t.

“I’m scared, Chief.”

Boden’s grip tightened a little, and he said in his firm, reassuring voice, “I’m here. Whatever it is, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

It took another half hour before Dr Garland finally appeared. At least Boden’s presence had calmed Casey enough that he wasn’t at the verge of a panic attack anymore and was actually able to listen to what Garland had to say. The doctor sat down, and Boden was about to get up and leave, but with one desperate move of his hand he held him back. “Can you stay please?”

Boden nodded, settling back down and grasping his hand tightly.

“Sorry for the long wait”, Garland began, “but I hope I can make up for it by delivering the good news: there are no signs of metastases in any other part of your body. Which means we are able to talk curative therapy. But let’s take a detailed look at your results.” He typed something away on the pad he brought and showed them an image of a lung with strangely illuminated dots. “This”, he pointed with a pencil, “is the primary tumour. It is also the only tumour node we can see in your lung, which is also good news. It has, however, already reached a size of about 5 centimetres, and has begun to infiltrate the lobe’s bronchi, which explains the breathing issues you’re experiencing. Now, this”, he pointed at another, much smaller glowing spot, “is a lymph node, located in the same lobe as the primary tumour. We have no indicators for lymph nodes in other lobes being affected, but I’d like to do a fine needle biopsy of the mediastinal lymph nodes to be sure we’re not missing anything there. Depending on the outcome, we are looking at a stage II, or early stage III, lung cancer. Considering bronchial carcinoma are often only detected at a later stage, this is still quite good news. We will have to do a few more tests, but I believe surgery will be an option for you.”

“How much of the lung would you take out?” Boden asked carefully.

“Considering the size of the tumour, and the fact at least one lymph node is affected, definitely the whole lobe”, Garland answered. “But I would like to look at the mediastinal lymph nodes first, and then consult with the tumour board, before discussing possible therapy schemes. – We can do the ultrasound and biopsy this afternoon, if it is possible for you?”

“Yeah, sure”, Casey mumbled. He still wasn’t able to fully comprehend. Was it good results? Or just not as bad as it could have been? “Can you tell me… what are my chances?” Do I have a chance, or will it kill me anyway.

The doctor gave him an honest and earnest look. “There is no guarantee, Matt. From what I can see, I do believe you have a realistic chance – assuming we will be able to fully resect the tumour and eliminate any possibly remaining cells with adjuvant treatment. But I won’t lie; it’s going to be a tough road.”

The doctor left soon after, announcing a nurse would come soon to prepare him for the endotracheal ultrasound. He told Boden he didn’t need to stay, figuring this would eat up the rest of the day, but the chief simply stated, “I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to?”

Casey shook his head.

He had to be sedated for the procedure, and since he’d taken so badly to the sedatives last time, he was also given something for the nausea. Still, he was throwing up afterwards, and he felt so utterly exhausted he found himself wishing he would die then and there just to have it over with. Boden had been sitting at his side when he slowly became more aware of his surroundings, and he still was when the nurse came with the discharge papers. He got an appointment with Dr Garland scheduled in two days, then he was sent home.

It was early evening by the time he finally walked out of the hospital, Boden by his side. Even if he still wasn’t ready to talk, he was immensely grateful for the chief’s silent company, not sure how he would have made it through the day without him.

“Thank you”, he said when they pulled up in front of his house. “I got it from here.”

There was something stern in the chief’s gaze as he replied, “If I’m not mistaken, they said you were not to be left alone for the next twelve hours. So, I’m afraid you’ll have to bear with me for a while longer.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, getting ready to climb out of the car.

“I appreciate it, Chief, but you really don’t have to…” Another glare made him shut up, and he got out of the car giving in. Somewhere deep down he had to admit he was glad he didn’t have to be alone.

Boden knew from experience he needed to be patient with Casey. His former truck lieutenant was clearly beyond exhausted, and there was a lot he needed to process. So, he didn’t push, just made sure he ate a little something before he went to bed. Not surprisingly, he was out like a light pretty fast. Most likely due to the still lingering effect of the sedatives, but Boden thought it was a good thing since Casey needed the rest.

He cleaned away the dishes and prepared himself a makeshift bed on the couch. Boden had never been to Casey’s place before, and knowing he’d renovated the house all by himself left him impressed. On a more sincere note, he thought, at least there was something else he could build upon since it was a safe bet to assume Casey would not be able to return to active firefighting. A thought that deeply disturbed the chief.

But right now, it was more important he had all the support he could get along the no doubt tough road that lay ahead of him, and Boden was well aware he would need to call in reinforces. Casey might not believe anyone cared enough for him to help him carry the burden, but he knew that wasn’t true. His sudden departure from 51 might have offended his crew a bit, but they still would move heaven and earth if they knew what their former lieutenant was facing.

Not that he would tell anyone, of course, he wouldn’t betray Casey’s trust. Still, there was a call he needed to make, hoping that some hinting might help to bring back together what shouldn’t be apart.

Shay was standing behind the kitchen counter, and if the stare she was sending his way when he came down the spiral staircase was anything to go by, Severide was in for a berating. He tried to ignore her, pouring himself a coffee. But the stare continued, and it was bothering him, and he settled for a resigned, “What did I do?”

Shay frowned. “The correct question would be what you didn’t do.” She sighed. “Look, I know, we have this not getting into each other’s business thing, but I’m your friend, and as such, I believe it is my duty to get into your business about this one.”

“If this is about Casey again…”

“Damn right it is about Casey!” She sounded exasperated. “As stubborn as I know you are, I also know you’re not blind. So, you have to have noticed something’s going on with Casey, something serious.”

“Did I notice he looks like crap? Yeah, sure. Is it any of my business? I don’t think so.” Severide still tried to play it casual, not wanting to admit how he spent the last two nights tossing and turning, images of Casey’s poor appearance flickering through his mind, wondering what was wrong with him, if it was just the depression, if he had some kind of eating disorder because he had become scaringly thin, and he could swear he hadn’t seen him eating for the whole twenty-four hours, and all the time telling himself it was none of his business, he didn’t care at all.

Shay rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you can keep telling that to yourself. I know you though; it’s eating away at you. And I’m telling you, if you are trying to beat Casey in the stubborn department, you’re going to lose. One of you has to put his head out of his ass eventually.”

Severide sighed. “Shay, how often do I need to tell you, it is Casey who doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore, not the other way around. I really don’t get why I should be the one trying to make amends.”

“Oh my goodness, you’re driving me crazy!” Shay threw her hands in the air and shook her head. “Alright. Let’s try this – somehow, you’ve managed to hurt him enough for him to think the only way to protect himself was ending your friendship. Now I don’t know how much thought he’s given to it, if he wasn’t just too hurt to think it through, but it wasn’t hard to notice how he still looks at you. Casey’s not done with you, not by any means. And maybe he’s too proud, or too afraid to ask for it, but I’m pretty sure he would let you back in if you’d asked him to.”

Severide was quiet for a while. When he spoke, he was surprised how small his voice sounded. “And if not?” I can’t bear to hear those words again. We’re not friends anymore.

“It’s a risk you got to take.” There was understanding in Shay’s eyes now though. “And if that happens – which I’m pretty sure it won’t, but still – I’ll be here, and I’ll help you through all the heartache, no matter what it takes.”

Her choice of words irritated him, and he quirked a brow. “Heartache?”

He got an eyeroll in return. “Oh, please. Darden and I had this bet going. Who of you idiots would be the first to realise the other was making eyes at him. He had his money on you, since Casey’s usually completely oblivious about anyone making eyes at him. At first, I thought there was no way of Casey missing out on the looks you sent his way, since they are just so obvious half of the time. But I have to admit I’m beginning to lose my hope.”

Severide was at a loss for words, finding he wasn’t able to deny any of what she said, but not ready to admit to it either. Before he had gathered his thoughts, his phone rang, and seeing the caller ID, he frowned and answered it. “What’s up, Chief?”

Chapter Text

Casey got the confirmation it hadn’t all been a bad dream when he padded into the kitchen in the early morning and found Boden there. A touch of embarrassment hit him, remembering how he almost broke down in the chief’s arms, and he couldn’t meet the man’s eyes, wishing for the floor to open up and swallow him.

Boden cast him a smile, putting a bowl of porridge and a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. “Eat; you need it.”

Casey could feel – and hear – his stomach rumble. No wonder, he had barely eaten anything yesterday. Still, he had no appetite at all, and he found himself stirring listlessly. “Don’t you have to be on shift?” There was something bitter to his voice, he couldn’t help it.

“Yes, I have to leave in a few minutes”, Boden confirmed, throwing a glance at his watch. “Will you be okay on your own? Is there anyone I can call, your sister maybe?”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” It sounded a bit harsher than necessary. But Casey hated even the implication he was weak, couldn’t handle himself.

“I know”, Boden replied patiently. “But you’ve got a lot to process, things you might want to talk to someone about.”

“I don’t want to talk now. And I don’t want to see my sister.” She won’t come anyway.

“Okay. But if you change your mind – please, don’t be too proud to call.”

Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he fought hard to hold them back. He simply nodded, not trusting his voice. Boden’s strong hand settled on his shoulder for a moment before the chief left.

It didn’t go unnoticed Casey wasn’t there even though he’d been supposed to cover for two shifts, and Herrmann heard the mumbles about their former lieutenant no longer thinking much of keeping his word. He had to bite his tongue to not snap at them to keep their mouths shut, the look on Boden’s face telling the older firefighter there was something serious going on, and he followed his friend of many years to his office after roll call.

“What’s going on with Casey?”

The chief let out a deep sigh. “He’s on sick leave”, he replied eventually, vaguely enough but still all too telling.

Herrmann nodded, not really surprised. “Was inevitable, wasn’t it.” He met Boden’s gaze. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Boden’s expression told it all, confirming his gut feeling with just a simple nod.

“What can we do?”

“Show your support. By any means necessary.”

“How much can I tell the others?”

“As little as possible. He’s not ready to talk about it, and knowing Casey, he won’t take well to it if it goes through the grapevine. I’m glad he let me in as much as he did.”

“I understand, Chief.” The unsaid was enough to give Herrmann an idea of what was going on. “Severide?”

Boden shook his head. “I have given him a hint, but I don’t know what he will make of it. I think Shay suspects something though. She may be able to give him the push he needs.”

“Yeah, I hope so”, Herrmann mumbled. He was almost out the door when Boden said, “Thank you, by the way. For talking me into bringing Casey in the other day. I hate the idea he would have gone through all this alone.”

Herrmann smiled sadly. “We’re family, Chief. We look out for each other, even if sometimes, some of us gets astray.”

Boden’s words were running through Severide’s mind again and again. If you want to reconcile with Casey, don’t lose too much time, it might be of the essence. They were on replay all through the night, all through shift.

Severide wasn’t stupid. He could do the math. Casey was sick.

How sick, he couldn’t get out of the chief. It wasn’t his story to tell, he said.

Severide didn’t know what to do. He pulled his phone out for the thousandth time, pulling up Casey’s name in his contacts. He’d started about a hundred texts, only to erase them again.

None of this felt right.

“Call him already.” Shay passed by him and opened the door to the passenger side.

With a roll of his eyes, Severide put the phone away. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is, if you want it to be.” She climbed into the car, and he followed on the driver’s side. “Sometimes, you got to take a risk”, Shay stated. “Like I did with Clarice.”

“Yeah, because that turned out so well”, Severide remarked sarcastically.

“True.” The paramedic shrugged. “Still. I’d do it again, because if I hadn’t, I’d always ask myself what if. Did it hurt like hell? Yes. But at least now I know. I don’t have to ponder anymore, what if I tried. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you are brooding.” She gave him a long look. “Kelly, if you don’t at least try to talk to him, you might regret it forever.”

Her words mingled with Boden’s that were still playing in his mind, don’t lose too much time, and it felt as if a cold breeze brushed over his heart.

Casey was tired of the hospital floors already, being well aware he was going to see a lot more of them in the months to come. A friendly nurse led him to Dr Garland’s office, and he was waiting anxiously for the doctor to appear.

Boden had offered to accompany him, but he didn’t want to burden the chief. He’d done enough already., and he sure had better things to do than sitting around in a hospital with him all day. And truth was, as much as he wished to have someone at his side, it wasn’t necessarily the chief’s company he wanted.

He had thought about calling Severide over the last two days for about a hundred times. But what was he supposed to say? I know I cancelled our friendship, but I’m having a shitty time and need you? How pathetic would that be. Severide would rightfully turn him down.

Thankfully, he wasn’t left waiting for too long. Dr Garland shook his hand before he sat down behind his desk. “How are you doing, Matt?”

He shrugged, a little annoyed by the question, because how the fuck was he supposed to feel with death looming over his head? “You tell me.”

“Alright, let’s get into it then.” Dr Garland cleared his throat. “I have the results from the biopsy we took the other day. Unfortunately, we found tumour cells in mediastinal lymph nodes. Putting all the results together, classifying everything in terms of tumour location, size, lymph node affection, and metastases, it will put you into stage IIIA. Given the nature of the disease, this is still fairly good news as it means we still have a chance at curative treatment. Our goal will be to resect the primary tumour and affected lymph nodes completely and eliminate any possible remaining tumour cells by adjuvant therapy to minimise the risk of relapse.”

“That means chemotherapy, right?”

“Yes.” Dr Garland adjusted his glasses. “I have consulted your case with the tumour board, and with our thoracic surgeon as well. Our recommendation is to begin with the surgery, taking out the inferior lobe of your right lung where the primary tumour is located, along with the adjacent lymph nodes. Assuming there are no issues speaking against the surgery which I don’t believe, seeing as you are a generally healthy young man, but we will test your pulmonary function before making a definitive decision for the surgery. After surgery, we recommend you undergo a chemotherapy to eliminate any possible remaining cancer cells and minimise the risk of relapse. I would also recommend combining it with immunotherapy. That is a relatively new therapy concept aiming at helping your immune system to target the tumour cells. We’ve seen good results in clinical trials, and depending on molecular characterisation of your cancer, we should add the corresponding medication to your therapy scheme.”

Casey bit on his lip, trying to take all the information in he only understood half of. “Isn’t there a way without taking part of my lungs out?” he asked a bit desperately. The idea of losing a whole lobe of his lung freaked him out. It was definitely the nail to the coffin of his career as a firefighter.

“Well”, Dr Garland replied, intertwining his hands, “if you don’t consent to surgery – which is, of course, your decision to make -, we would try to eliminate the tumour with a combination of radio- and chemotherapy. It might be successful, but I have to point out that the risk of relapse would be significantly higher. If surgery is possible, I would always recommend going for it. It is the best option to get rid of the tumour. Now, I do understand it is frightening, it is a major surgery after all, and it will have great impact on your life. But we do have very good thoracic surgeons here who are experienced with this kind of procedure.”

“If I lose part of my lung, I can’t be a firefighter anymore.” It wasn’t a question. Dr Garland answered anyway, his voice gentle.

“Losing a lung lobe does mean a reduced lung capacity, there is no sugarcoating it. It will take some time, but your body will adapt, and specific breathing exercises will help to activate the functional reserves of your remaining lungs. You will be able to lead a normal life, even do sports to a certain extend. But as for firefighting – from a medical point of view, I have to advise you to not return to the job, regardless of if you decide to undergo surgery or not. The hazardous environments you are exposed to are most likely what caused the cancer. Your lungs are pre-damaged, any further risk you add, like smoking, or walking into fires, will increase your risk of relapse.”

Casey tried very hard to not let any emotion show on his face. But he was devastated, completely crushed, looking into a deep dark hole with no way out. He didn’t say anything; he wouldn’t know what.

“I understand this is all a lot to process”, the doctor continued. “Take your time, talk it through with family and friends. If you’d rather hear another doctor’s opinion, feel free to do so; I’ll be happy to share all our results. I have put some material together for you to read through, containing all the necessary information about your disease and the suggested therapy scheme”, he handed Casey a folder, “and please, don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions. That said, I recommend to not wait too long before you make a decision. The cancer is already in some lymph nodes, and we don’t want to give it a chance to spread further.”

Casey stared down at the folder in his hands. “What…” His voice almost gave out, and he had to clear his throat. “What happens if I don’t get treatment?”

Dr Garland looked at him from kind but very earnest eyes. “If you don’t get treatment, the cancer will spread, via your lymphatic system and blood vessels. Most likely, more tumour nodes will grow in your lungs, in some of the other lobes. Tumour cells will also settle and grow in other organs, the liver, adrenal glands, in your bones and maybe even in your brain. Symptoms will depend on where and how fast the cancer spreads, but it won’t be pleasant. Your lung capacity will decrease more. If it settles in the bones, you will experience considerable pain. If it settles in the brain, a lot of functions might be impaired, even your personality might change. Once the cancer has begun to spread through your body, it will be very hard to fight, and your chances will deteriorate fast, meaning only palliative treatment to ease the symptoms. – Matt, right now, you do have a realistic chance at becoming healthy again. I am very grateful your ER doctor the other day was so attentive, so we were able to detect the cancer when we did. Only a few weeks later could already have made a large difference.” There was something urgent in the doctor’s voice now. “Take your time, read through the information I put together for you. There’s everything laid out, your diagnosis, our recommended therapy plan, patient’s guidelines for the illness. I’ve marked the passages that apply to your stage. Talk to your family, your friends, get another opinion if you want. Make sure you get all your questions answered to make an informed decision. But please, don’t wait too long. The cancer is already in the lymph nodes, it will only spread further from there.”

“Okay.” Casey didn’t have the energy to say more. He took the folder and got up, and Garland followed suit, extending his hand. “Just call if you have any questions. And let me know when you’ve made your decision.”

He nodded numbly and walked out.

It had been a busy shift, and Severide claimed he needed to sleep before he considered calling Casey, still too stubborn to give in.

He didn’t sleep, of course. Boden’s words kept echoing through his mind. The chief had refused to tell him anything, not even when he’d confronted him at shift, insisting he’d talk to Casey if he wanted more information.

Something’s wrong with Casey, something serious.

You know Matt’s struggling with depression, don’t you.

We’re not friends anymore.

It’s what it always came down to. We’re not friends anymore. Casey didn’t want him to worry. To know what was going on with him. He’d cut him out of his life.

To some extent, Kelly understood. He’d been cruel to him, ever since Andy died. He blamed him. Pushed him away. Like Heather did with him.

And that’s when it hit Severide, and he sat up in his bed with wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart.

If Heather’s behaviour had hurt him so deeply, how had Casey have had to feel by the way he had treated him? He practically told him from the very first minute he blamed him for what happened, by laying him out then and there. And ever since, he’d let him feel it. He had been the one to cut all the ties of friendship. Barely even acknowledged Casey’s tries to at least save their professional relationship.

And still, Casey had tried. Hadn’t lost his patience. Until the day he accused him of sleeping with Heather. And blamed him for Andy with the same breath, again.

Severide put his head in his hands and groaned. He’d taken Casey for granted. So much so he’d thought he could throw everything at him, let out all his frustration on him, he’d still be there. Never, not even for a second, did he see it coming.

You should have though, after demonstrating your friendship meant nothing to you for so long. Even Casey can only take so much.

The voice in his head was Andy’s. And Kelly wiped at his eyes, the pain of missing him so overwhelming again.

Andy would have given them some hell for all their fighting after his death. Would have grabbed them and sat them down and told them to “talk it out or beat it out of each other if you need it, but for heaven’s sake, stop being idiots, I can’t take it anymore.”

The imagination made Kelly almost laugh through the tears in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he threw the covers back. He knew what he had to do.

Casey didn’t know what made him visit his father’s grave. Somehow, he’d been drawn to it after he’d left the hospital with a bunch of papers and so many unasked questions. The wind was a bit chilly, and he thought he should have brought a jacket, just to remember it was July and he shouldn’t be freezing.

There were fresh flowers on the grave, Christie must have brought them. Funny how she always thought about her dead father, but her living brother, she didn’t even call on his birthday.

Maybe, when he was dead, she would think of him too.

He sat down on the hard dry ground beside the gravestone, pulling his knees to his chest, slightly shivering. “Hi, Dad.”

He’d always found it strange, talking to the grave. But somehow, today, he had the need to.

“I always wondered; you know. If it’s true what they say, that you meet again after you died. If I’d meet you again if I died.” He chuckled humourlessly. “Guess I might find out soon. Though I suppose you won’t be too happy to see me. You’ll tell me I was weak, getting myself sick.” He snorted. His father would have a lot to say about how it was all his own fault. Like being alone. Nobody wanted to be his friend, he’d always told him that. He was too needy. Didn’t put himself aside enough. Nobody wanted to hang around someone who always needed acknowledgement. He should just have borne with Severide’s accusations instead of trying to get him to understand his side. Given in to Christie solely blaming their mum. At least then he wouldn’t be alone. Defending Mum hadn’t gotten him anywhere. She’d still left, as soon as he’d fulfilled his purpose.

Your mother’s a manipulative bitch, the cutting words of his father rang in his mind. Words that had hurt deeply whenever he’d heard them as a kid. Now, he just wondered how much hurt had been between those two people before he even had been born. He couldn’t remember a single day his parents had been happy together. According to his mother, he was the reason for that. In his father’s eyes, he was just worthless. And he wondered why they’d stayed together, if all they felt for each other was contempt. If they would have been better off if he hadn’t been born.

All he seemed to bring over people was doom. If Andy hadn’t befriended him, he might still be alive. It was his fault he’d climbed through that window before it had been safe. And it was his fault Severide hated him for it. He’d caused him all that pain, and he was better off without him.

51 was better off without him, before anything else bad happened. And maybe, Casey thought, his illness was just God’s way to tell him he wasn’t wanted on this Earth, and if he was too weak to draw the consequences himself, then fate would do it for him.

The sun was deep when he climbed out of a cab in front of his house. He was so deep in his mind he almost missed the figure sitting on the front steps, stopping in his tracks just before he stumbled over it. His eyes widened, and instead of a decent greeting, he blurted out, “What are you doing here?”

The figure got up, blue eyes shining with determination. “We need to talk. And I’m not accepting no for an answer.”

Chapter Text

Severide had brought cigars, because that’s what they did, smoking cigars if they were to have a heart to heart. It was a gesture showing how serious he was, and Casey didn’t find it in him to turn him down, for a lack of energy and wouldn’t it be fair to let him know, and maybe he even felt a tiny bit of hope even if he didn’t want to allow himself to.

They settled on the steps of the porch in the back, facing the small yard. Casey eyed the cigar, thinking he shouldn’t smoke, but it didn’t matter anyway, and maybe it would speed things up, so he might as well go for it. He took a deep draw, and it scratched at his lungs and made him cough, and he laughed through the cough, this was so absurd.

“What’s so funny?” Severide asked, scowling a bit.

He shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. Just… life’s a bitch sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Can’t say I disagree.” Severide blew smoke to the sky. “Listen, man, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I know I said a lot of nasty things, things I didn’t mean, and I know saying I didn’t mean it doesn’t take away the damage it did. I was hurt and I wanted you to hurt too… it wasn’t right, but I can’t undo it. All I can do is promise to do better. But you got to give me a chance, Matt. You can’t just throw our friendship away as if it meant nothing to you.”

Casey could hear the deep hurt in the other man’s voice. A hurt he had every right to feel, because hadn’t he been brutal, telling him they’d never been friends to begin with.

Speaking of things being said but not meant, and yet impossible to make unsaid. He’d been hurt to the core and needed to shield himself from more harm. Pretending there never had been a friendship meant not losing it.

But none of this mattered anymore.

“Do you really believe it? That I killed Andy?”

He hadn’t wanted to say it. But he needed to know. It was almost dark by now, and he barely saw the slight shake of Severide’s head. They didn’t look at each other, they never did, staring into the distance ahead of them instead. It was easier to talk this way.

“No.” Kelly’s voice was small. “You didn’t kill Andy. But both of us… we’ve been responsible. So, yes, I think we are to fault, to some extent, and I’ll have to live with that guilt. And I think that’s why I’ve been so angry – still am, from time to time. And I – I don’t know, I guess I wanted to hear you say it, that you’re feeling guilty, too.”

“Don’t you think I am?” Casey blew the smoke into the air, trying to ignore the spasms of his lung, the coughs building up in rapid succession. “I haven’t slept for weeks. Still don’t for more than a few hours.” Not that he’d ever been a great sleeper. “I told him to hold back. He didn’t listen, and that’s on me. I was his lieutenant, and I failed him.”

“Andy wouldn’t want us to blame ourselves. Least of all to blame each other.” Severide’s gaze flickered over to him for a second. “Can we – can we leave it behind? I don’t want it to tear us apart anymore. And don’t tell me we haven’t been friends, it’s not true, it’s an insult to both of us, and I won’t let you get away so easily.”

Severide’s voice sounded teary, and Casey felt his own eyes fill with tears. Everything was just so pointless.

“I’m dying, Kelly.”

“What?!” The other man’s head whipped around, and his gaze was fully on him, he felt it without turning his own head, eyes big and wide with shock. “What are you talking about? Casey, what the hell is going on?”

He looked up to the sky where darkness slowly settled, the cigar between his fingers glowing a dim red. “Lung cancer.” Two simple words sealing his fate. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like smoking anymore, and he put the cigar out, embers dying with the last light of day.

A bone-deep chill took hold of Severide, and he stared at Casey as if he’d never seen him before. His mind was screaming, and yet it was totally silent, and he did find no words to say.

Ever so slowly, he realised Casey was shivering, and when he lightly touched his arm, he felt cold. “Geez, Case, you’re freezing”, he whispered, and it made Casey laugh, even though it sounded more like a sob. Gently, Severide wrapped his arm around the other man, his too thin frame, and helped him up, and Casey didn’t protest when he led him in. The squad lieutenant found a blanket on the couch and wrapped it around the blonde before he sat down beside him. “How bad is it?” His mind was refusing to believe what Casey said, I’m dying, no way, he wouldn’t accept that.

Casey shrugged, not looking at him. “It’s all in the folder”, he said, and Severide remembered the folder he’d held in his hands when he came home and put on the kitchen counter before they went outside. He got up to get it, bringing a glass of water for Casey as well, his coughs sounding terrible, and he felt bad for having made him smoke. Well, he didn’t technically make him smoke, but if he’d known, he would have thought of something else.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” He thought Casey was okay with it since he pointed out the folder, but he wanted to be sure. Casey shook his head, and Severide started to read.

It took him a while to go through it all, to understand what it said. But when he thought he did, he looked at Casey with a little bewilderment. “Matt, if I understand correctly, this says with the suggested therapy, you’ve got a real chance.” Severide frowned. Sure, this was devastating news, and a devastating diagnosis, but it wasn’t the end of it, and yet, Casey sounded so certain before, I’m dying, and Severide felt that chill again.

Casey turned his head away. “’m not getting treatment”, he mumbled.

And for the second time this evening, Severide’s heart set out.

He must have misheard. Or maybe… “What? Why? It’s job related, right, so insurance will cover the costs, you don’t have to worry about that, do you? If it’s an issue, we’ll find a way, we’ll pass the boot…”

“That’s not what I meant.” Casey’s voice was clearer now, and he actually looked at him. “I don’t want the treatment.”

Severide was completely taken aback. When he’d found his voice again, he whispered, “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? It’s not as if it makes a difference.”

“Casey, if you’re not getting treatment, you’re going to die. How is that not making a difference?”

“Even with treatment I still might.”

“It’s a maybe then. Not a certainty. Matt, please. You can’t be serious.” He couldn’t hold back the tears from filling his eyes.

“They want to cut part of my lung away.”

“Yes, but it means the tumour would be out, you can get healthy again.” Severide knew what it meant in terms of Casey’s career. But it also meant he could live.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I won’t be able to be a firefighter anymore. So, what’s there to fight for.”

“How can you say that? How can you say not being a firefighter is equal to dying, would justify not fighting for your life? You can’t be serious.” He was repeating himself, but really, Casey couldn’t be fucking serious.

The blonde snorted. “Says the guy who walked around with a broken neck for months because he was afraid to lose his job, risking his life every freaking shift, and not only his own. Do you even realise it would have only taken one wrong movement, only one, to kill you, or leave you permanently paralysed from your neck down? Did you even think about it? And you’re telling me I can’t be serious! Fuck you, Severide!”

Casey had gotten fairly loud by the end, not only loud, he was yelling, and Severide slumped in on himself, eyes wide. “I didn’t… I never… I didn’t realise you were so upset about it.”

“Really, Severide? You didn’t? You think I don’t give a fucking damn about you; I wouldn’t care if you got seriously hurt, or worse? If that’s what you think of… of whatever’s left of us, then why would you even care what’s going to happen to me.”

“Matt, I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you.” Kelly swallowed hard, trying to get his shaky voice under control. He leant forward, locking his eyes into Casey’s. “I was an idiot. I didn’t see clearly, I acted reckless and stupid. Please, don’t be as stupid as I was. Please, Matt. We can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”

For what felt like an eternity, Matt only stared at him, face blank, and Kelly’s mind was blank too, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t win. Matt was here, right before him, and still it felt as if he was slipping through his fingers. He was too late. Matt was ready to give up.

And he did the only thing that made any sense to him, pulling the other man into his arms and holding him close against his chest, and for a few seconds he was completely stiff, trying to pull back, but Kelly didn’t let him, and eventually, he melted against him, all his barriers breaking, and he was sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m scared, Kelly. I’m so fucking scared.”

Kelly’s own tears fell on the blonde head, and he whispered hoarsely, “Me too. But at least we can be scared together now.”

Chapter Text

Casey had cried himself to sleep eventually, exhaustion getting the better of him, and Severide carefully settled him on the couch, placing his head on a pillow and draping a woollen blanket over him. For a moment, he looked down on the sleeping truck lieutenant, his heart heavy. Tearing himself away, he took up the folder, and sat down at the table in the dining room to thoroughly read through it again. The patient’s guideline explained everything understandably, but still, his head was swimming from all the medical jargon, and despite of the markings he found it hard to filter what applied to Casey and what didn’t. Unimaginable how Casey had had to feel, all alone with such a bomb dropped into his lap. The heat of shame crept up Severide’s neck, and he had to wipe over his eyes more than once.

Trying to do some more research, he pulled out his phone, only for his heart to grow heavier, because what he found on the internet wasn’t very hopeful. Determined, he put the phone away and grabbed a blank paper instead, writing down all the questions that came to his mind. Like what impact the surgery would have in terms of quality of life, how likely it was to get all the cancer out (those lymph nodes were freaking him out), how many cycles of chemo would be needed and how they would tackle the side effects of the chemo, because knowing Casey who didn’t even take well to painkillers it was a safe bet chemo would be hitting him hard.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but it had to be rather late when there was a knock at the door. Frowning Severide went to get it, not wanting Casey to wake up, and was surprised to find Boden standing there.

“Severide.” There was a tiny smile on the chief’s lips. “It’s good to see you here. – I tried to get a hold of Casey all day, but he didn’t answer his phone, so...”

The squad lieutenant opened the door wider, gesturing for Boden to come in, immediately feeling relief just at seeing him. “He’s sleeping.”

The chief was carrying bags with groceries, he noticed now, and he walked right into the kitchen and put them on the counter. “Did he tell you?” he asked in a low voice, sure not wanting to disturb the sleeping lieutenant.

Severide nodded desperately. “Chief, he says he doesn’t want to get treatment.”

“What?!” Boden stopped unpacking the groceries, his eyes going wide. “But why?” He sounded completely lost.

Severide shrugged. “Surgery means he won’t be able to return to the job… he says he’s got nothing left to fight for.” And that’s my fault, for making him feel like he was worthless. Tears were burning behind his eyes.

“Oh, Matt.” Boden rubbed a hand over his eyes, shaking his head. “Did you talk to him?”

“I tried. But I’m still processing myself… and we’re not exactly in a good place right now, guess you know that.” There was this chill around his heart again, and his legs felt shaky all of a sudden. He pushed Casey away because he couldn’t deal with his hurt, pushed him down in the process, literally kicked him to the dirt. Made him feel like his life wasn’t worth fighting for.

“Sit down, Kelly”, Boden said firmly, and he did as he was told, the natural authority in the chief’s voice exactly what he needed. Watching how Boden began to prepare food made him realise how hungry he was, and if he had to bet, he’d say Casey hadn’t had a decent meal all day either. Severide put his head in his hands, feeling defeated on so many levels. “What am I supposed to do”, he mumbled.

“Be there”, Boden simply stated, adding the chopped vegetables to the chicken on the cooker. “Be there and show him he matters. And for God’s sake, leave your animosities behind. Darden’s gone; he won’t come back for your fighting. From how I know him, he would have a lot to say about you two being at each other’s throats, by the way.” He shot a stern glare at Severide.

Kelly took his gaze away, feeling ashamed. “I know, Chief. I know.” What was it with Casey that made him feel all his emotions twofold whenever it came to him? And why didn’t he have a better handle on them?

They fell silent while Boden finished putting the ingredients for the soup together and put the rest of the food he brought in the fridge. A totally empty fridge, as Severide noticed. Damn, Matt. He’d always been terrible at looking after himself. Why hadn’t he watched out for him?

Why had his stupid pride made him say all those things? Why had he been so damn angry he pushed him away so hard now Matt thought his life wasn’t worth anything, he could just let the cancer eat it away.

Casey didn’t know what woke him, the faint noises from the kitchen or the smell of something cooking. It wasn’t that he slept very deep, he’d never been a good sleeper and hadn’t slept for more than a few hours at a time ever since Andy died. Slowly sitting up, he remembered Severide, remembered how he broke down crying in his arms and he felt ashamed. Determined to tell him to leave before he chose to go himself, he walked into the kitchen.

He was surprised to find Boden there, standing behind the cooker and stirring in a pot. “What’re you doing”, he mumbled, red-rimmed eyes finding the chief, and he wondered if he looked how he felt, worn-out and his mind not really here and there, and for a short moment he considered leaning against Severide who sat on one of the stools just so his legs wouldn’t give out, but then chose to ignore him, still not fully trusting he came to actually stay around.

Boden gave him a soft smile. “I wanted to hear what the doctor said.”

Casey shrugged, eyes darting away. “It’s worse than he first thought.”

“What does that mean?” Boden asked, and a lump formed in Casey’s throat at his gentle tone, he didn’t know why.

“It’s in the mediastinal lymph nodes.” He rubbed over his crusted eyes, and the movement made him almost lose his balance, he swayed and only stayed upright because Boden grabbed for his arm in time.

“Have you eaten?” Now, there was something stern in the chief’s voice, and he sat him down on a stool right beside Severide. Casey shook his head, and Boden sighed a little. He walked to the fridge and came back with a bottle of Gatorade he put into Casey’s hand. “Soup’s going to take a while. Casey, you’re going to need all your strength for what lies ahead of you. You can’t keep skipping meals.”

“Didn’t he tell you?” He still didn’t look up, neither at Boden nor at Severide, twisting the bottle between his hands. Boden pulled another stool up and sat down beside him. “Did Dr Garland tell you what happens if you don’t get treatment?” he asked gently.

Casey nodded, staring at the bottle. He tried to uncap it but failed, his hands slightly shaking. Boden had to help him.

“And is this really the road you want to take?” There was something intense in the chief’s voice now.

Casey shook his head, lip slightly trembling, tears welling up in his eyes. He tried with all his might to hold them back.

“Then why not fight? – Matt, you still got a chance here.”

“But what for? If I can’t be a firefighter anymore… there isn’t anything to come back to.” Not anyone. The tears were falling freely now, and he didn’t bother wiping them away. And Boden did what Severide did before, he pulled him into his arms, placing the open bottle on the counter before it fell out of Casey’s hands.

“It’s going to be okay, son”, he murmured. “I’ll be here, for every step of the way. And so is Kelly.” Over Casey’s head, he threw a look at the squad lieutenant, and he heard Severide’s voice, “I’m not going anywhere, Matt.”

He wanted to believe it. But it was hard to, with everything that happened over the last year, everything he’d ever built up in his life falling apart right before his eyes.

“And tell you what, Herrmann is itching to see you, he is worried about you. I bet he would have a lot to say to that stupid idea of not getting treatment you’re brooding about.”

“Yeah, Shay too”, Kelly added.

Casey pulled away from Boden, wiping over his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears. “Why would they. It’s not as if we’re close or anything.”

“Because we’re family, you dumbass”, Boden growled. “We take care of each other, no matter what. I understand it’s not a concept you’ve had the chance to internalise in your early life, but if you think we’re going to watch you throw your life away right before our eyes, I’m afraid we’re going to disappoint you.” He got up and lifted the lid off the soup. It smelled amazing, and despite not having any appetite, Casey could feel his stomach rumble. Boden filled two ladles into a bowl and put it in front of him. “Eat, and then we will all catch some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Not missing Severide’s longing glance, the chief handed him a bowl as well.

Casey stared into the soup, more tears burning behind his eyes. A strange mix of feelings was fighting for the upper hand, leaving him confused and tired.

Severide was here, and he said he was sorry, but did he really mean it? Would he really stay around, or just until he was pissed off again? He couldn’t go through that again; he’d rather have him not come back at all than leaving again. And Boden… he had honestly no idea why he was here, why he would even bother. The chief owed him nothing; he was the one who walked out on him from one day to the next without even looking back. As for Herrmann… he’d disappointed him, snubbed him one time too many, sure he wouldn’t want to burden himself with the mess of him anymore. He didn’t know why Boden would tell him he was worried.

Casey was surprised when he realised that he’d actually finished his soup. Not having the energy for any more talk, he excused himself stating he was going to bed. Passing through the dining room, he caught a glimpse of the papers Severide had scattered all over the table, and he felt a stab, of sadness, of fear, of… he didn’t know. Sensing Boden’s presence behind him, he gestured lamely, answering the chief’s unasked question. “Suit yourself.” He hadn’t read through any of it; it felt rather pointless to him.

He went through the bathroom routine in a strange kind of daze, then crawled under the covers, the warmth of the summer night not reaching his body.

After Casey had gone to bed, Boden settled at the dining table, sorting through the papers scattered all over it. Prepared for a long night, he tried his best to not think too much of what Severide said, about Casey not wanting treatment, and of what Casey said, about how his life wasn’t worth fighting for if he lost his profession. It wasn’t something he was ready to accept, and from the look on Severide’s face, the squad lieutenant wasn’t either. He sat beside him, silently waiting while Boden read through the medical report and all the brochures. When he was done, Boden exhaled deeply, covering half of his face with his hand. He’d already had two days to process. Still, reading through it all now shattered him all over again. Unimaginable how Casey must be feeling.

He was barely over thirty. How in the world was that fair? Boden thought of that bright, handsome young man who came to 51 only a few years ago, needing only one day to impress his chief with his braveness, his integrity, his positive attitude.

Not much of this brightness and positivity had been left after Andy Darden died. And now, it was as if Matt Casey had been soaked into total darkness.

He had honestly no idea how he was supposed to make him see there was still a reason to fight. A reason to live.

“We’re not going to let him deny treatment, are we, Chief?” Severide’s voice was quivering, he sounded so small and vulnerable Boden couldn’t remember ever having seen his squad lieutenant before.

There was more confidence to his own voice than he felt. “Kelly, I will do everything in my might to help him see it’s worth the fight, he is worth it. But in the end, it’s Casey decision. And we will respect his decision, even if we don’t like it.”

Even if it would plunge their world into darkness too.

Sleep didn’t come easy to him, and it wasn’t only the cough erupting from his chest and wrecking his body that kept him awake. The more he tried not to think, the more thoughts invaded his mind, and when he finally managed to fall into a slumber, they followed him into his dreams. He saw himself walking over a graveyard, the world around him coloured in black and grey, a thunderstorm over his head like in a bad horror movie. He stepped up in front of an open grave, and looked down into the pit, and his vision was so blurry he could barely read the name on the gravestone, was it his? He was about to just jump in, to lie down on the cold hard ground and wait for the earth to be poured over him, to cover him forever when a hand grabbed for his shoulder and turned him around, skinny fingers digging into his flesh, and he looked into a face that resembled his own, but it was more skeleton than human, and his voice was raw and scratchy and he said, “There’s no place for you”, and the skeleton climbed into the hole himself and the ground closed above him, and Casey saw the name now, Gregory Alan Casey, there was no place for him in his father’s grave, and he still felt the skeleton fingers around his shoulder, he was sure they left a bruise, and he walked away feeling sad. He entered a diner, and there was Andy sitting in a booth, laughing and joking with people he didn’t know, and he wanted to join them, desperate to feel some of the lightness Andy always radiated. But before he could sit down, Andy looked up, and there was something hard in his eyes, all the lightness gone, and he held up a hand and said, “Not you.”

But why, he wanted to ask, why do you push me away, but there were no words coming out of his mouth, he was just gaping, why would Andy reject him? Did he hate him now, too? He turned around, walking away, tears running down his face. There was nowhere left for him to go if even Andy didn’t want him. The world turned into nothingness, dry broken ground beneath his feet, and he stumbled, wanting to lie down and let the merciless sun claim what was left of his fragile body, but he kept walking, desperation letting him put one foot in front of the other even though it seemed totally pointless. Suddenly, a tree appeared, black and burned, and in the tiny bit of shade it provided stood Severide, arms crossed and grinning at him, he could see his tooth gap.

“Come here if you dare”, he challenged, and he stopped, frozen on his spot. Was it a trap? Would he, if he came closer, punch him and send him back into the desert, no shadow, no water, not even a grave to climb into.

What’s there to lose, his mind whispered, and he took a step, trying to reach for Severide’s hand, but he disappeared, and he fell, fell to his knees and then deeper, deeper, there was no ground to fall onto and he screamed but no sound came out of his throat, nobody was there to hear him.

Casey tore his eyes open, the lingering feeling of total loneliness still holding him in its grasp, a silent scream dying on his lips, and he was coughing, his chest burning, there wasn’t enough air, and he stumbled to the window and ripped it open, gasping for air that wasn’t there.

Something cool pressed against his neck, and a hand brushed over his forehead, carefully bringing him into a more upright position. “Easy”, a voice murmured, “try to take slow breaths, in… and out, just like me”, and he felt the rhythm of a chest rising and falling against his back, and he tried to fall into that rhythm, but coughs still disrupted his breaths, and he felt something wet and slimy land on his hand. “Sev?” he croaked between gasps, all his weight leant against the chest behind him.

“Yeah”, the familiar voice mumbled, and a wet cloth was wiped over his face, and his soiled hand. “You’re okay… try to breathe slowly. There you go.”

He was exhausted. He could barely stand on his own two feet, but he was afraid Severide would just step away and let him fall, like in his dream, and he fought himself out of his gentle hold even though he wanted nothing more than to stay there.

“’m okay”, he muttered, staggering the few feet back to his bed, collapsing down on the mattress. He closed his eyes, not daring to look at Severide once, not wanting to see him disappear.

He felt the covers being draped over him. He felt the hand brush over his forehead again, and then the mattress dipped a little, as if someone sat down beside him, and he didn’t dare move, didn’t dare open his eyes, being sure that the fingers gently carding through his hair were just the remnants of a dream he didn’t want to end.

Daylight was filtering through the blinds when he woke up a few hours later. He was alone, and he wasn’t sure if it hadn’t all been a dream, Severide and Boden and then Severide again, nothing from the past day clear in his memory.

At least he felt a bit rested, and he made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. His chest was tight, and he coughed, bringing up mucus and some blood, faint speckles against the white sink, and it made him gag, a feeling of hopelessness and deep desperation grabbing hold of him again.

After the shower he felt a little better, and he walked towards the kitchen contemplating if he could be bothered to make some breakfast. If he remembered correctly, there wasn’t anything left in the fridge to make breakfast of though.

He didn’t make it to the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of a set table in the dining room and two people sitting there. A frown settled on his face, and it took him a moment to gather his thoughts. “You… you’re still here?”

There was a mild smile on Boden’s face. “Sit down, Matt. We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

His eyes flickered between Boden and Severide while he sank down on a chair. “What is this about?” He had a pretty good idea, actually. Not that he wanted to hear it.

Boden filled a plate with eggs and toast and some bacon and put it in front of him, and Severide handed him a mug with steaming coffee. He took a careful sip.

“I know you don’t want to hear it”, Boden raised, speaking out his own thoughts, “but listen now. I understand this”, he pointed at the folder lying beside him, “is freaking you out, scaring you so much you don’t want to even start thinking about it. And I get it, because it scares me too, and it’s not my life that’s at stake. But while I know you can be stubborn beyond your own good, I also know you’re not stupid. Burying your head in the sand won’t make it go away; it means you’ll get worse, and fast.”

To the point of no return. He didn’t say that, but it was in the chief’s eyes.

Who would care anyway. Casey stared down at his plate, pushing the food around with his fork. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he hated himself for it. When did he become so pathetic, crying all the time? You’re nothing special, Matthew. Don’t be so needy. Ever since he’d grown out of a toddler’s age, whenever he asked for a hug his father would give him a slap instead. Hugs are for girls and fairy boys. Are you a wimp, Matthew?

He stopped asking, eventually. He learnt to not show weakness, least of all verbalise it. He tried so hard to swallow the tears he started coughing.

“Casey, do you want to die?” Boden asked bluntly. No beating around the bush. Probably he thought he needed that kind of brutal honesty.

And Casey found himself looking into the chief’s dark eyes and say, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

There was something sad flickering over Boden’s face, a pain hard to grab. Severide sucked in a breath, and he began fidgeting in his seat. Boden put a hand on his arm to keep him in check. He must have instructed his squad lieutenant to let him do the talking.

“What can I do?” the chief’s voice was grave, repeating what he’d asked him a few days ago. “What can I do to make you believe your life’s worth fighting for?”

“What if it isn’t.” He sounded small, and he looked down at his untouched food, a single tear falling from his eyes. What if his father had been right, calling him worthless. So worthless he didn’t even offer him a place in his grave. “Being a firefighter is the only good thing, the only thing that matters in my life. If that’s taken away from me, then there’s nothing, nothing to come back for.”

“Is this really what you believe? That being a firefighter is all that defines you, is all you’re worth?”

He laughed humourlessly. “Take a look, Chief. Nobody sticks around for me.”

Boden’s gaze bore into his. “I am here. And so is Severide.”

“Yeah, until I look at him the wrong way, or say something that makes him get hold of the wrong end of the stick”, Casey scoffed. A deep stab of hurt wrenched his gut, and he looked at Severide with burning eyes. “It’s just too easy, isn’t it. Punch the guy who’s used to it. I’ve heard it all my life, that I’m to fault for everything going wrong. And maybe that’s true, maybe I’m cursed, or just some poison, and it’s better to leave me behind because I’m no good, I’m making everyone around me miserable.”

“Matt.” He could see Severide was fighting for words. But he found none, and it was no wonder, what good was there to say about him. Casey hated the self-pity that was engulfing him, but he couldn’t help it, there was just no light to be seen, and he was tired of stumbling through the darkness.

“I – I’m sorry, I know I treated you terribly, there’s no excuse for it… But it’s not… I never wanted you to think… to feel like this, you’re not worthless, you’re no poison, you’re all the things I always wanted to be, kind and compassionate and selfless and maybe that’s why I was so mad cause all I could be was angry, but you’re so special to me, you’re one of the best people I ever met.” Severide was rambling, and it all sounded so meaningless in Casey’s ears, he didn’t want to hear it. Slowly, he pushed his chair back and got up.

“I appreciate you being here, and what you’re trying to do. But I’m not… you can’t just walk in here and expect me to forget what happened, to not feel it anymore, you abandoning me when I needed you the most. How do I know you won’t just walk out on me again? How am I supposed to trust you, Kelly?”

Kelly’s eyes slowly filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Matt. I know I can’t ask you to trust me… but please, trust the chief, and the others.”

What others, he wanted to ask, just when there was a knock at the door. He closed his eyes briefly, wanting to ignore it, not ready to deal with more people. But the knocking was persistent, and he went to get it just so it stopped.

It was Shay and Herrmann, and before he got the chance to even open his mouth to send them away, they passed by him in all naturalness. “Hey, Casey.” Shay gave him her brightest smile, and Herrmann handed him a box before he walked by. “Those are from Cindy. She said to not share, they’re meant for you.”

Casey stood there dumbfounded for a moment. Then, he felt anger rise in his chest. He put the box with the brownies in the kitchen and walked back to the dining room, crossing his arms and glaring daggers at Boden and Severide. “Did you tell them?”

“Nothing more but to come over”, Herrmann replied, pulling a chair from the table and sitting down.

“But we know you’re sick, Casey, it’s pretty obvious”, Shay added, taking a place next to Severide.

“Fine.” Casey still scowled. “So, what’s this supposed to be, some kind of intervention where you’re telling me what I’m to do? ‘Cause if that’s what you’re up to, you can just…” A violent coughing fit cut him off, leaving him gasping for his breath, filling his mouth with something disgusting, and he rushed back into the kitchen to spit it in the sink, gasping and retching, tears springing to his eyes.

Shay was there, pressing a wet cloth against his forehead and instructing him to breathe slowly. Herrmann was there, handing him a glass of water, and Severide was there, rubbing a strong hand up and down his back. He hated it, being swarmed around like this, hated to be at the centre of attention, hated to be seen that weak, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being pitied. But he didn’t find it in him to protest, and he allowed them to lead him back to the table and sit him down. Boden put a warm sweater around his shoulders, and Shay’s cool hand felt for his forehead once more. “You got a slight fever”, she stated, sitting down beside him. “Maybe we should call your doctor?” She cast a quick look at Boden who took his seat opposite from Casey again.

“What are we dealing with?” Herrmann asked, sounding worried. Casey met the chief’s gaze and only gave a small weary nod, not able to say the words himself.

“It’s lung cancer.” Two words hanging in the air like doom. Each time they were spoken, it became a little bit more real, and he felt a little bit more defeated, and it got a little harder to ignore.

He was sick.

Very sick.

And if he didn’t have the guts to get the treatment, he would die.

It was too much. He buried his face in his hands, wanting to disappear from the world. Wanting them all to be gone so he didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

Instead, an arm was wrapped around him, Shay pulling him towards her in a tight hug, and Herrmann’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Dammit, man”, the older firefighter mumbled. And what else was there to say.

“What stage? What are the odds?” Shay asked, sounding surprisingly composed, even though he thought there was a slight quiver to her voice.

“There’s still a chance to fight it”, Severide replied. “But he doesn’t want to.” There was accusation to his words, and his intense gaze bore into Casey. He turned away, the feeling of being reprimanded, rejected, pushed away even because he wasn’t doing how he should in the other’s eyes too strong again.

“Casey.” Shay managed to put shock and sadness and devastation in that one single word, and the expression her eyes held was unbearable. Casey pulled away from her, staring down at the table. “Why don’t you just leave me alone”, he mumbled. Like all the other times you didn’t bother. All the other times you never even noticed I was struggling. What’s so different now.

Shay whacked his head. “Leave you alone in this? Are you out of your mind? Come on, Casey, you got to know better.”

But it was Herrmann who surprised him more. The older firefighter got up, tears shimmering in his eyes, and he wrapped his arms around him and held him close against his chest. “It’s going to be alright”, he murmured. “I know you’re scared, and fuck, I’m too, but it’s going to be alright.”

Something made him search for Boden’s face, and the chief said in a calm and gentle voice, “Matt, it is up to you to decide what you want to do. And we will respect it, no matter what. But I am asking you to at least have another talk with Dr Garland. Let him explain everything, ask all the questions you have. I will accompany you if you want. But please, don’t just give up on you, on us.”

Tears were burning in his eyes, and his voice was barely there as he whispered, “Okay.”

Boden sat beside him in front of Dr Garland’s desk a few hours later. The doctor shook their hands, smiling. “Good to see you again, Chief. Matt, how are you doing? I’m sure you have a lot of questions, which I’ll be happy to answer.” He looked at him expectantly.

Matt stared down at the notes in his hands. Between the five of them, they’d gone through it all meticulously, and Shay had written every question down that popped into one of their minds, adding to the list Severide had started the night before. Seeing the squad lieutenant’s scrawly handwriting made the corners of Matt’s mouth twitch a little, he didn’t know why, the overall feeling of being abandoned still so strong when he thought about him.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to start with chemo? If the tumour gets smaller… maybe you wouldn’t need to take the whole lobe out then?” He was fishing for straws, and he knew it. Shay had already voiced it was rather improbable taking less than the lobe away would be sufficient, since his primary tumour wasn’t exactly small anymore.

“It is a possibility, yes. But in your case, I wouldn’t recommend it.” Dr Garland pulled the model of a lung over that sat on his desk. He turned it around, pointing with his pencil. “Here’s the right inferior lobe. See those coloured segments? Theoretically, it’s possible to do a segmentectomy, meaning to only take one of those segments away instead of the lobe as a whole. However, a segmentectomy is a more complicated surgery compared to a lobectomy, so it’s generally not something we recommend. And unfortunately, your tumour is growing into two segments already. Even if we were successful in reducing its size by starting with chemotherapy, it’s not an advisable approach to take out less than the whole lobe. Another reason why we would prefer to do surgery first is that chemotherapy will weaken your body significantly, and in our opinion, it’s better to go into surgery with as much strength as you got.”

Matt stared at the model with burning eyes. Seeing how big it actually was made the idea of losing a whole lobe of his lung even worse. Dr Garland seemed to be reading his thoughts as he added, “I understand the idea of living with one lung lobe down is frightening. And yes, it will have an impact, and it will take its time of adjusting. But there’s quite some reserve regarding lung capacity, and you will be able to lead a normal life after surgery. It is the better option compared to the much higher likeliness of relapse if you don’t have the surgery.”

Matt didn’t say anything, and so Boden asked the next question, his hand closing around Matt’s reassuringly. “How long after the surgery would you start with chemo?”

“As soon as possible, depending on how well you recover from the surgery. As a general rule, preferably within forty days after surgery, and no less than sixty.”

Matt took a deep shaky breath. “I – I don’t usually take well to medication. I have PONV… and to be honest, chemo freaks me out.”

Dr Garland nodded understandingly. “Chemotherapy is not pleasant, there’s no denying that. But there are certain drugs to contradict the side effects, and I’m confident we’ll find a regime that works for you. As for your PONV, I’ve seen it in your file, the anaesthetist will be prepared and deal with it accordingly, so hopefully with the right medication we can keep it at a minimum.”

“How many rounds of chemo will he need?” Again, Boden.

“It depends. We are recommending a combination of two different cytostatic drugs, given over four courses of treatment. Once that’s completed, we’d do a full evaluation of your status of disease and go from there. Best case, it’s done. If not, we will re-evaluate and discuss further treatment.”

“Do I need to stay at the hospital for chemo?” The prospect of weeks in a hospital bed filled him with dread.

“Not necessarily. Usually, our patients come in to get the medication, which we will administer via an IV line, under supervision and can rest at home in between. It depends, however, on the overall circumstances. In your case, I guess we’ll have to see how you are coping. But as of now I see no reason that would require you to stay at the hospital all the time, no.”

“And after surgery? How long do I have to stay?”

“24 hours in the ICU, and at least a few days on the ward, usually around five to ten. It is a major surgery after all.”

He nodded, feeling weary already, and Boden took the list out of his hands and finished going through all the questions. Like if further examinations were required before surgery, what complications could arise, what he had to expect during recovery. Casey noticed he was taking notes as well, and he guessed it was a good thing, since he was barely able to listen anymore.

“So”, Garland asked eventually, his eyes on Casey, “did you make up your mind about the surgery, or do you need some more time?” He didn’t say it, but it was evident from his tone he wanted an answer sooner rather than later.

Casey’s mind was blank though, and he looked at Boden for help. The chief took his hand again, squeezing lightly. “Would you give us a minute, Doctor?”

Garland smiled. “Of course. Talk it through.” He got up and left the room, announcing he would be back in a few minutes.

Boden turned around to fully face him, still holding his hand between his. “What do you think?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Matt’s eyes wandered away, to the window behind the doctor’s desk. It didn’t offer the best view, and the skies had clouded. “What would you do?” His voice was low, tears burning behind his eyes yet again.

“I’d go for it”, Boden replied, no doubt in his voice.

“Even when it would take your purpose in life away from you? Even though you got nobody at home waiting?” He knew Boden was divorced, twice. It was not his intention to rub it at him, he just desperately needed someone who could relate.

“Matt, we can’t know how life will unfold behind the next corner”, the chief said firmly. “So, yes – I would, for a chance to look behind that corner. I know you can’t imagine a life without being an active firefighter right now, and believe me, I get it. But there’s much more, outside the CFD or within it. You could work at headquarters. Go to OFI. Or teach at the academy, if that’s something you would be interested in.” He took a moment, then added, “Or, if you really want to – you could fight it, the rule saying you can’t be a firefighter with part of your lung missing. In the end, it comes down to if you’re physically capable, and that might still be possible.”

Casey slowly turned towards him, eyes wide. “You really think it’s possible?”

“I honestly don’t now. I’m not a doctor, and I guess no doctor would advise you to return to active firefighting. But I know you, your strength, and how stubborn you are, so I wouldn’t say it was impossible.” He took a deep breath. “Matt, what I’m trying to say is – there’s a lot to fight for. A purpose in life. And even if you’re not able to see it at the moment, there’s also people waiting for you.”

Chapter Text

Dr Garland seemed relieved when he told him he would have the surgery. “It’s the right thing to do, Matt. – Since I was confident you would consent to the surgery, we held a slot open for you tomorrow morning. I would like to…”

“Tomorrow?” Casey swallowed hard. He’d barely come to terms with the idea of having the surgery. Tomorrow sounded way too fast.

Dr Garland gave him an earnest look. “We should not waste any more time, Matt. The sooner the tumour is out of your body, the better. We can reschedule if you really want to, but I would strongly advise to go forward as soon as possible.”

He nodded, not finding it in him to argue. His voice sounded strained and like from far away though. “Okay. Tomorrow then.”

Garland smiled. “Good, then it’s settled. I’d like to do a physical examination and take another blood sample, and the thoracic surgeon will be available to talk to you and explain the procedure afterwards. He’ll answer any question you may have regarding the surgery. That sound okay to you?”

Boden’s hand settled reassuringly on his leg, and he felt himself nodding, though he didn’t feel ready at all.

Severide tried to sit still; he really did. He barely managed though. First, he fidgeted with his watch, twisting it around his wrist. Then, he bounced his leg. Shay rolled her eyes and sent him away to get coffee. The coffee only made his anxiety worse, and he was bouncing his leg even harder than before.

“For heaven’s sake, Kelly!” Shay put her hand on his knee, forcing him to still. “Stop it already. You’re driving everyone crazy.” She looked around pointedly. There weren’t many people in the waiting area, and most of them a lot older than they. It was the oncology ward, after all.

Severide had spent a lot of time in hospital waiting areas throughout his life, but never here.

Oncology.

Because Casey had cancer.

He was so young. It wasn’t fair at all.

Severide knew, of course, that firefighters had a high risk for cancer. They all knew. Still, it was something they used to suppress. Cancer was for old people.

Not for Matt.

“He doesn’t trust me, Shay. I don’t know what to do.” He hung his head.

“You have to earn his trust again”, she simply stated. “Hard piece of work when it comes to Casey, I know. But honestly, I can’t say I blame him. You’ve been a jerk, Kelly.”

“Don’t I know it.” So much wasted time. Wasted because he hadn’t been himself, consumed by anger and pain and drowning in sorrow. Denying his struggles and pushing everyone away. Casey, and even Shay. He’d almost lost her too.

As if she was reading his thoughts, Shay said, “You haven’t lost him yet. But you got to do better than prodding at old wounds. If you want Casey to trust you again, stop hurting him.”

“I never intended to. I was just so…”

“Hurt, I know. But you got to get a grip on this lashing-out-to-mask-your-feelings thing you always fall into. Casey did already walk out on you, and I don’t think your friendship will survive another blow. You can’t just dump the blame on him, Kelly, no matter how much he frustrates you.”

She was probably referring to him accusing Matt of not wanting treatment. Kelly nodded unhappily. He was very aware pushing Matt into a corner wouldn’t get him anywhere. But he just couldn’t help it, he couldn’t listen to him saying he wanted to throw his life away and not tell him he was out of his mind.

“I can’t lose him, Shay. Not him too.”

“And you won’t.” Shay put an arm around him, pulling him close. “He is a fighter after all, always pushing through. He won’t just walk away from who is now. He’s just afraid, that’s all. And who can blame him for that, it’s devastating. I really don’t know how I would cope.”

Severide thought back to last night, Matt’s too thin body leaning against him, shaken by violent coughs. Staring down at his hands he thought about how Matt had subconsciously pressed against him, drifting back into sleep. How it had felt to card his fingers through the blonde strands, so soft against his skin, and how he wanted to keep that moment forever. How Matt let out a whimper when he brushed over the cut-off ear, and he wondered if it hurt, and how had he not been there for him? He imagined how he’d been at the hospital, alone and scared, and the heat of shame had crept up his face. He knew Matt, knew he always put on a brave face, but deep down, hospitals freaked him out, and though he would never ask for it, he needed all the comforting he could get.

That at least he could do now. Offer comfort.

Boden waited outside during the physical examination. Garland asked how long he’d had the fever, a question Casey wasn’t really able to answer, and he earned a pensive frown from the doctor while he jotted down some notes. He got his blood drawn, and afterwards, they waited for the thoracic surgeon, a man named Rhodes. He radiated confidence from the second he set foot in the room, and he took his time to explain the procedure, why an open surgery was needed, and it couldn’t be done via minimal invasive methods, even if it meant a longer recovery time. He talked about doing a systematic lymph node dissection, meaning he would remove all lymph node stations, and the lymph nodes present there completely. He was honest, stating bluntly that it was a huge surgery, and Casey would most probably feel like crap afterwards, and he should be prepared for a hospital stay of at least a week. Rhodes also explained he had a lot of experience and was not afraid of any complications. Casey appreciated his honesty and did his best to be the one who asked the questions this time, desperately trying to gain back what little control he had left over his life. Rhodes let him sign all the necessary paperwork, and when he asked for an emergency contact, Casey named Boden. Eventually, he got handed a paper sheet with all the information, when he had to be there, how long before he wasn’t to eat anything, what to bring for his stay at the hospital. He was exhausted and more than ready to go home when Garland appeared, an expression on his face Casey didn’t like at all, and when he spoke, his heart dropped the last few centimetres to the ground.

“Matt, with the results of the examination and after a look at your bloodwork, I would really like to admit you overnight, so we can prepare you for the surgery in the best possible way.”

Sensing his former lieutenant’s distress, Boden asked, “Is that really necessary, Doctor? I would stay with him, make sure he eats and rests properly.”

Garland nodded. “I don’t doubt that Chief, but you have a fever”, he looked at Casey again, “and you’re already slightly dehydrated. I would prefer to administer fluids, and have you monitored overnight, so we don’t have to deal with any surprises tomorrow.”

Casey felt his eyes slowly fill with tears, and he wasn’t able to form any words. It was all happening too fast. Boden rubbed a hand over his face. “I understand”, he said finally. “But would it be okay if we drove home for a short break, so Matt can pack his things, and have a decent meal before we come back?”

Garland nodded. “I don’t have anything against it, as long as you are back here before six pm. We’ll have a room prepared for you then.”

Boden gave him an intense look. His voice was gentle though when he spoke. “Is that alright with you? You can eat and rest for a while before we come back.”

He barely found his voice, and when he did, it was wavering. “I don’t want to stay tonight.”

“I know, but look at it from this point, you don’t have to go through the admitting process tomorrow, right before surgery… it might be more relaxed this way. Besides, I really think Dr Garland has a point here, with the fever and all.”

Boden undoubtedly knew how bad his last night had been. Maybe he didn’t want to take the responsibility for him right before the surgery. And he didn’t want to burden him with it. So, he gave in. “If you think it’s best.”

Dr Garland smiled and nodded. “Alright, Matt. See you tonight. Chief.” He shook their hands, and then he was gone. Matt felt strangely detached.

Boden’s hand settled on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Come on, let’s drive you home, get some rest.”

Severide got up as soon as he spotted Boden and Casey approaching, Shay following suit. Casey looked exhausted, and when his eyes fell on the squad lieutenant, he seemed surprised to see him there. Severide was itching to ask, what are you going to do, but he didn’t want to pressure Matt, and Matt didn’t get a word out. It was Boden who shared the news.

“Surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. They are admitting him tonight.”

Matt held his arms tightly around his slim body, hugging himself. He looked lost, and Severide felt lost too, not knowing what to do or say. He was relieved, and at the same time scared like hell.

Thankfully, Shay had her emotions more in check, hugging Casey before hooking him under. “I’m sure you’re going to be good as knew after.”

Casey forced a thin smile on his face, eyes flickering to Severide, and the squad lieutenant threw all his doubts to the wind and let instinct take over. He wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulders and pulled him towards him, mumbling over his ear, “It’s going to be alright. I’ll be with you all of the way.” And Matt leant against him, if only for a moment, he could feel his weight, smell his scent, and Kelly felt whole again for the first time since Andy died.

Later, Severide packed some clothes into a bag, sweatpants and warm sweaters and what else he thought Casey might need during his hospital stay. Boden had managed to make him eat at least a little, and he was sleeping now, rolled in on his side in the bed, and Kelly couldn’t help but steal a look every now and then. It made him sad to see the hard lines in Matt’s face that just wouldn’t smooth out. It was no wonder he was so exhausted if he didn’t even relax in his sleep.

Kelly’s gaze roamed the wardrobe one last time, considering if he needed to pack anything else, when his eyes fell on something hidden between Matt’s working trousers. Smiling, he pulled it out. He remembered the time Andy had brought it with him all too clearly, and it still made him grin.

“He sleeping?” Andy whispered, head popping around the doorframe. Kelly nodded, and Andy sneaked in, closing the door lowly. He stepped up to the bed where Matt was lying, broken arm resting on a pillow, cuts and bruises covering his face in a stark contrast to his pale skin. “You had us worried, man”, Andy mumbled, and then he put something under Matt’s healthy arm he’d held hidden behind his back. Kelly had to blink twice to make sure it was what he thought it was.

“Andy, is that plushie a bug?”

“It’s a firebug”, Andy corrected, slightly pouting. “How was I supposed to not buy it? Besides, it’s awesome.”

Who was he to contradict that. And the shriek Matt made when he opened his eyes a little while later and looked into the firebug’s face was priceless.

Kelly smiled a little and packed the firebug in the bag. Andy had been right, it was awesome. And after his initial shock, Matt had grown quite fond of the plushie, even if he would never admit to it. He might appreciate having it with him at the hospital.

Casey still looked tired when he emerged from his bedroom a few hours later. His gaze wandered over the packed bag. “You didn’t’ have to do this.”

“I wanted to”, Severide shrugged. “I’ve packed your tablet, and the book you’ve been reading, don’t know if there was anything else you wanted. But I can always bring something if you need it.”

“’s fine, Sev. Thanks”, Casey mumbled. He looked over at Shay and Boden who sat at the dining table. “You don’t have to sit around here. I can just take a cab and…”

“Oh, shut it, Casey.” Shay rolled her eyes. “This is not a pity party, you know. We’re here because we want to. And you better get used to it.”

There was a small smile on his face, and he sat down, eyeing the box that stood at the edge of the table. “What’s this?”

“Oh, I thought I’d spare you the grub they serve at the hospital tonight, so I made some empanadas. We can take them with, watch a movie and eat before they kick us out.”

“The same you brought to the Friends of Firefighter’s barbecue last year? With goat cheese?”

“Yes, the very same you ate the whole bunch of all by yourself”, Shay smiled.

There was a tiny flicker of joy on Casey’s face, and he asked, almost shyly, “Can I have one?”

“Of course.” Shay opened the box and handed it around, and they took one each. Casey closed his eyes while biting into it. “You’re the best, Shay.”

“I know”, the blonde paramedic grinned.

Casey was hooked up on fluids and supplied with oxygen via a nasal cannula when they were finally let into the room with the stern announcement to not stay longer than an hour. Shay made herself comfortable on the bed beside Casey, putting the box with the empanadas on his lap while she switched on the TV and zapped through the program.

Boden said his goodbye, promising to be back the next morning. Casey frowned deeply, stating they were all on shift, and he would be out of it most of the day anyway. Boden just smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Severide settled in the chair beside the bed. He felt a pang of jealousy though, wanting to be the one cuddling up to Matt, and he did his best to not analyse that feeling and grabbed an empanada instead. Shay decided on a crap reality show, and they fell into an easy banter, mocking about the show and being comfortable in each other’s company as if they were in one of their places and not a hospital room. Casey fell asleep halfway through the first episode, and he was still asleep when it was finished and Shay switched the TV off. Carefully, the blonde paramedic climbed off the bed and pulled the covers up a little, tucking the lieutenant in. She kissed his cheek and mumbled, “Good luck, Casey.”

Severide pulled the plush firebug out of the bag and sat it beside Matt on the pillow. Absentmindedly, he brushed the blonde hair from his forehead, and then thought screw it and bent down to press a gentle kiss on his skin. “I’ll be here tomorrow. You’ll get through this”, he whispered.

No way was he going to be on shift while Matt had major surgery. Boden had agreed at once when he voiced he wanted to be here, and the chief called in a relief for him. He was well aware his squad lieutenant would be no good to be on shift anyway.

Standing at the door, Shay smiled knowingly, watching him linger. And Kelly found he didn’t mind.

Chapter Text

Casey woke more than once through the night, and every time, there was the lingering feeling of soft lips pressing to his forehead, and he wondered if it was just the remnants of a dream or if it really happened, and he thought he hadn’t imagined Severide’s lips to be so soft. Even the ghost of the feeling left a smile on his face, and then when he became more coherent, it made him sad because he didn’t know if it was real, if he wanted it to be real, and if it was, what to make of it. He grabbed for the firebug (such an Andy thing to buy) he’d found sitting on his pillow and pressed it against his chest, trying to drift off again.

Sleep left him at about 4 in the morning, and nothing he tried to distract himself helped. His thoughts were going in circles, all the things that could potentially go wrong adding up to a threatening dark cloud. What if there was more tumour than they thought and they would have to take the whole lung away. What if it was inoperable after all. What if there were complications and he bled out on the table, would never wake up again, and there was a mean little voice whispering if that wasn’t what he’d wanted. When the nurse came in for the first time around six, he was so worked up he was about to cancel it all. She seemed to be used to it, calmly explaining the doctor would be in to see him around seven. She took his vitals, announcing his fever had dropped, and administered a shot of antiemetics through his IV line. It did nothing to take the queasy feeling in his stomach away. His mouth was awfully dry, but all he got was another round of fluids through the IV line. The nurse left, and Casey did his best to not freak out again, staring out of the window. It seemed to be a sunny day; the summer sun already having risen above the city.

He was surprised when a short while later, there was a knock at the door, and a familiar face stepped into the room.

“Hey.” Severide smiled shyly, and somehow, he found it absolutely adorable. A thought he would have to analyse later. He was surprised to see the squad lieutenant though, and his face made a frown, mushed-up brain making him blurt, “What are you doing here?”, and he felt sorry for the rudeness of his words in an instant, because he was fucking relieved to see the other man.

Fortunately, Severide wasn’t fazed, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. “I said I would be here. Unless you don’t want me to?” There was a hint of uncertainty to his voice.

“No, please stay.” Casey’s cheeks reddened slightly. “I just… didn’t think you would, I guess. You’re supposed to be on shift after all.”

“Matt, if you think I’d be able to be on shift while you have major surgery, you must be crazy”, Severide stated matter-of-factly.

It warmed Casey’s heart in a way unpredicted, and he plucked at the firebug’s legs to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks for packing Bugs”, he mumbled to change the subject.

“You’re welcome.” Severide smiled. “I thought you might want it… and you’ll have a part of Andy with you.”

Andy with his wide smile and stupid jokes who didn’t seem to be capable of earnestness, but who was a surprisingly good listener and always sound with advice. Tears were slowly welling up in his eyes.

“I miss him, Sev.”

“Yeah. Me too. But we’ll always have him with us, you know. In our hearts. And there’s a part of him in the boys.”

Casey cast a shy look at the other man, not sure if he should broach the subject. But he didn’t want it to be unspoken between them, not with the chance of him not being there anymore at the end of the day. “Did Heather talk to you?”

Severide nodded, looking down at his hands. “She came to me… apologised. I don’t think we’ll ever get along very well, but she lets me see the boys. Even allowed me to accompany Griffin to his hockey training again, which is great, I think he liked it.”

“That’s great. I’m glad she did.” Griffin’s hockey training had always been Severide’s duty as his Godfather, and Casey thought it was good for the boy he had his routine back in that respect.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Severide asked.

He shook his head. “Haven’t spoken to her a lot lately. It was… I don’t know. Reminding me of what I lost.”

“I get it”, Severide mumbled. After a while, he added, “Would you mind if I did? Tell her. She’s worried about you, I think. And the boys are missing you, they’ve been asking when you’re coming around again, Ben especially.”

His words painted a sad smile on Casey’s face. “I’d love to see them… but I don’t – they’d be scared.”

Severide nodded, catching up with his meaning even though he had barely put it into words. “I understand where you’re coming from. But Matt – honesty is the best way to go forward, especially with kids. They have a sense for something not being right anyway. Let me talk to Heather, she’ll know how to explain it to them.”

Casey bit on his bottom lip, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, but he nodded. “I’m fucking scared, Kelly."

Kelly grabbed for his hand, holding it tightly. “So am I”, he replied hoarsely. “And believe me – I know how it feels, I’ve been at the other side not too long ago.”

And he hadn’t been there. Again, Casey felt ashamed. He had been a terrible friend. “Kelly – if anything happens…”

“Nothing’s going to happen”, Kelly cut him off. “You’ll get through this, and you’ll be healthy again.”

A pang of anger filled his chest, and he glared at the other man. “Would you let me say this please. It’s hard enough as it is.”

“Sorry”, Severide mumbled, and now it was his cheeks that reddened, and it made Casey smile a little.

“If anything happens – I want you to know I’m glad I had you in my life. And the only thing I regret is us falling apart after Andy died.”

“Yeah, me too”, Severide murmured, tears shimmering in his eyes. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

“We’ve both not been at our best.” Casey chuckled lowly. “Andy would have given us hell for it, you know.”

“Oh, he so would.” Severide laughed a little too, wiping the tears from his eyes. He squeezed Casey’s hand. “It’s going to be alright. You’ll wake up this afternoon, and you’ll puke your guts up, and I will hold your head.”

“Yeah, not looking forward to that”, Casey sighed. “And I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t stop thinking, what if anything goes wrong…”

“Dr Rhodes is a very good surgeon. You’re going to be just fine.” Boden’s voice from the door. Again, Casey frowned, not having expected him to show up. “Aren’t you supposed to be on shift?” Other than Severide, the chief was in his CFD uniform.

“Not yet.” Boden quirked a brow. “Can’t I look after my lieutenant without him questioning it every step of the way?”

Casey turned his gaze away. “Not your lieutenant anymore”, he mumbled.

“Casey, as far as it concerns me, you will always be a part of 51”, Boden clarified. “No matter the circumstances."

Casey felt heat on his face, and he still couldn’t look at the chief. “I’m sorry I walked out on you.”

“For what it’s worth – I believe the distance has done you two some good. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad decision after all.” Boden smiled softly, and Severide’s hand closed tighter around his, and Casey squeezed back, like a silent promise. I’m never going to let you go again.

Boden left when Dr Garland came in for a quick examination, and soon after, the nurse was there to prepare Casey for the surgery, and Severide was sent to the waiting area.

They had said it would be at least two hours. Perhaps more. Severide had no idea how he was supposed to get through those hours. He had considered going to the gym, work some nervous energy off, but he didn’t want to leave in case something happened. God, he wished Shay was here. But Boden couldn’t replace everyone on such short notice.

Severide was glad he wasn’t there when the chief would tell everyone at the morning briefing. Casey had said it was okay, not wanting any speculations to go on, and Severide assumed largely because he didn’t want to burden them with keeping his secrets. He didn’t really want everyone to know, Severide could see it in his eyes.

Casey hated to be weak. He thought people would contempt him then, like his parents did. He wasn’t able to see how much strength the way lying ahead of him required.

Hell, Severide wasn’t even sure if he was strong enough for what was to come, and he wasn’t the one who was sick.

The smell of disinfectant was the first thing he became aware of. It was so strong it was barely tolerable, invading his airway with every breath and leaving an unpleasant taste on his tongue. He tried to force his eyes open, to get a sight to the smell, but his lids were heavy as lead, and he didn’t feel up for the effort. A beeping made itself aware in his mind, somewhere in the distance first but then steadily getting louder. It was disturbing, and he wanted to switch it off, but he found he couldn’t move, his limbs were heavy too, and were they even attached to the rest of his body? He took a deep breath, but it did no good, a numb but sharp pain stabbing his chest, and it felt as if he was breathing underwater. Nausea was washing over him, and he finally managed to open his eyes, but that was no good either, everything seemed to be moving, as if he was on a boat, and he quickly closed them again, but it was too late for the sensation to subside.

“Try to take slow breaths”, a friendly voice said from somewhere above him. Something cool was wiped over his face. “In – and out.” The voice gave him a rhythm, but it didn’t help, he still didn’t get enough air in, and the deeper he breathed, the worse the pain got, and the nausea. He wanted to roll on his side, but hands held him back, the voice telling him he shouldn’t lie on his right side, and he wanted to cry out, he was so sick. The hands guided him to the other side, and he puked, his insides spasming and it hurt, hurt so much that tears streamed down his face, and he begged, make it stop, please make it stop.

The hands guided him through the wave, wiped his face again, helped him settle back against the pillows. The voice told him he was given another dose of antiemetics, and he just thought what for, it’s not helping anyway.

He blinked tiredly, everything still blurry due to the tears swimming in his eyes, but he finally got a face to the friendly voice, a brunette woman smiling at him. It was the OR nurse who had been with him before the surgery.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Sick.” His voice was raspy, and it hurt to speak, and left him totally out of breath. “No air.”

She nodded understandingly. “It will take some time for your body to adjust to the reduced lung volume. Try to breathe normally, and don’t worry about it. We’re monitoring your oxygen levels to make sure your body gets enough. Once you’re a bit stronger, you can start with breathing exercises that will help to activate your reserves. – I gave you something for the nausea; let’s hope it settles.”

It didn’t. He threw up again while she was gone to get the doctor, barely managing to turn to the side in time and half of it landed on the sheets and his hand, and he felt disgusted and ashamed. The nurse wordlessly cleaned the mess up while Dr Rhodes checked on the wound and listened to his lungs, nodding approvingly. “The surgery went very well. I am happy to tell you I was able to resect the lobe and lymph node stations without any further complications, and we didn’t come across any surprises. The pathologist will take a look at the tissue and some molecular testing will be done to determine your further treatment, but that is something Dr Garland will talk to you about. – The nurses will settle you in the ICU now, were we’ll keep a close eye on you for the next 24 hours. Try to sleep as much as you can.”

The moving made him sick again. At least this time, one of the nurses was quick enough to hold a tray under his chin. The pain in his chest sparked up, the spasming of his abdominal muscles pulling at the stitches, and again tears were streaming down his face. He wanted this to end. He wanted to be home. He wanted to… “K-Kelly”, he sobbed between heaves. There was nothing to come up anymore, and still, it wouldn’t stop.

“Dr Rhodes is getting him”, the nurse said. She handed him a tiny cup of water so could rinse out his mouth before she took the tray away and wiped his face clean once more. The other nurse fluffed up his pillow, and they settled him back against the slightly raised bed. He was hooked up on an IV and the heart monitor was attached to his chest. He was supplied with oxygen via the nasal cannula and a pulse oximeter was slipped on his finger, and the nurse placed a clean tray on his lap, just in case. She told him to press the call button if he needed anything, and he nodded wearily. He hadn’t moved; they’d rolled him over in the same bed he had been lying in in recovery, but still, he felt totally out of breath, and he was glad to be on oxygen supply again.

He felt the bile rise in his throat before he was fully awake, and he heaved it out right on the pillow, not able to even lift his head in time. Pain tore his insides apart, and he was shaking, uncontrollable sobs forming in his chest only making it worse.

A tray was held under his chin, and a hand stroked gently over his head. He spit out some more bile, but his stomach was empty, and the hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. “Easy”, the voice belonging to the hand mumbled, “breathe with me, okay? In… and out.”

“H-hurts, Kelly”, he choked out.

“I know. The nurse will be here soon, she’ll give you something. Just breathe.”

Severide continued rubbing his back, and he leant into the touch. Who would have thought that just breathing could be so tiring.

The nurse came, and after exchanging some words, gave him a shot of morphine. She explained they had to be careful with it since morphine had a suppressive effect on respiration, and his lungs needed to adjust to the reduced capacity, so he needed to breathe deeply. Ideally, he would already be on a C-PAP to improve oxygenation, but they decided to wait until the vomiting was over. Based on his nausea Casey doubted that would happen anytime soon, though he really had nothing to throw up anymore.

Severide wiped he bile from his chin with a wet cloth while the nurse changed the sheets, again. He felt mortified, but she just smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Matt. This happens all the time.”

She checked on his wound, and he got a glimpse of the drainage sticking out of his chest for the first time. The morphine had dulled the pain a little, but he still felt every movement, and he was short of crying again just from the sensation of a fresh bandage being applied. The nurse explained he would get another round of local anaesthesia around his chest to help with the pain, but it was too early for the next dose, she would administer it in about an hour.

Severide helped him settle back against the pillow, and when the nurse was gone, Casey shyly plucked at the squad lieutenant’s hand. “Cold, Sev.”

Severide pulled the thin blanket he was covered with up a little, but it didn’t do much, and it must have shown on his face, as after a short moment’s hesitation, Severide climbed on the mattress beside him, carefully arranging his body so Casey could snuggle up against him, and oh was he heavenly warm.

“Okay?” Severide asked, and he nodded “m-hm”, eyes already falling shut.

It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Severide wasn’t complaining. Casey had slept peacefully for the past hour, back pressed against the squad lieutenant. The nurse had been in to apply some local anaesthesia to his chest, which looked horribly black and blue by now, and Severide didn’t dare imagine what kind of pain Casey had to be in. The tears leaking out of his eyes while the nurse set the needle were as much of an indicator as the tight grip around his hand. Since he hadn’t thrown up anymore, the nurse also switched the nasal cannula for a C-PAP, to support his breathing. Casey had protested against the mask first, but once he had the advanced oxygen supply, fell asleep pretty fast again. Severide watched his chest rise and fall, his hand gently running up and down Casey’s arm.

He was relieved the cancer was out and didn’t have a chance to spread any further. But it also made him sad, seeing Matt lying here in severe pain and knowing his days as a firefighter were over. Matt would have a hard time coping once the reality of it fully sank in.

“Awe, you two. Too cute to be true.”

Looking up at the voice, he saw Shay standing there. She smiled, stepping in carefully to not wake Casey. “Just had a drop-off. How’s he doing?”

Severide had called Boden after he learned the surgery had been successful, and the chief had promised to spread the news. Shay was of course well aware Casey had a tough recovery ahead of him.

“Pretty out of it. At least he’s stopped puking for now.”

Shay grimaced. “That bad again? They don’t get a handle on it, do they.” Obviously, Matt’s body was resistant to antiemetics. “But they’ve taken it all out?”

“Rhodes was confident, but only the pathologist will know for sure.”

Shay nodded. She gently patted Casey’s arm before squeezing Severide’s shoulder. “Don’t forget to eat, Kelly.”

“Won’t, I promise.” Even though he didn’t like the idea of leaving Matt alone in the slightest, and if it was only for a few minutes. “I’m surprised Dawson didn’t show up. What did you do, lock her in the storage room?”

Shay grinned. “Now that would have been an idea. – She’s pouting, believe me. But the nurse wasn’t very fond of letting anyone in, and I said I wanted to check on you too, so I won.”

“Is she still after him?” Severide tried to sound casual, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Being here with Matt, sensing his warm body against his, his fingers brushing through the blonde hair on his arm, feelings made themselves aware he never allowed himself to feel.

Shay shrugged. “Don’t know… far as I know, they haven’t spoken for months, since she went to see Voight. And then there’s Mills… Why, are you jealous?”

Of course, she would tease him. Severide stuck out his tongue. Shay only chuckled. “Alright, I got to run. Take care of our boy. And call if you need anything.”

His gaze was already back on Casey, gently carding his hand through his hair. “I’ll let him know you were here.”

Chapter Text

Severide was kicked out for the night, and Casey put on a brave face, not wanting him to sleep on an uncomfortable chair anyway. But he missed his presence as soon as he was gone, and there was no-one distracting him from the pain in his chest and the unnerving beeping of the monitors. He only had to wear the C-PAP for a few hours at a time, and he was glad it was gone for now, but still, he couldn’t find a comfortable position to lie in. Usually, he favoured to lie on his right side, which he couldn’t, obviously. Lying on his back was highly uncomfortable, and so, he curled up on his left side. Every movement still was a major task, leaving him totally out of breath, and as much as he detested the catheter, he was actually glad he didn’t need to get up for anything right now. They’d started to give him small amounts of water in the afternoon, and of course, he’d thrown it up right away. At least for now his stomach seemed to have settled, but he hadn’t dared to drink anything again, relying on the fluids provided via the IV.

Casey felt over the mattress where Severide’s hand had laid only a few minutes ago, and he tried to imagine the feeling of the warm skin against his. Severide wasn’t usually that touchy, least not with another man, and Casey wondered if it meant anything, or if he was thinking about it meaning something too much. Wondered if he had imagined that kiss from last night, and why he’d been so disappointed when he didn’t get one now. Maybe next time, he should pretend to be asleep when Severide left. And then he wondered what that meant, and somehow, his thoughts wandered back to Hallie, and there was another pain deep inside of him. And he wondered how she was, if she was happy, or if she had been as sad as he had been after the breakup. If she thought of him from time to time, and it was Hallie on his mind when he finally drifted off to sleep.

He woke up screaming. The pain was so all-consuming, over-whelming, he couldn’t tell where he was or why. All he knew was his chest was on fire, he couldn’t get enough air in, and there was a copper taste on his tongue. He retched and spat a small amount of blood on the sheets. His face was wet from tears, but he didn’t have the breath to scream anymore, and he only made small whimpering sounds.

A nurse came rushing in. She asked him something, but he wasn’t able to answer, he just clutched his side and groaned. The bandage over his wound was soaked, if from sweat or blood he couldn’t tell.

The nurse spoke gently to him, and soon there were more people, a doctor who prodded at him and he cried out. He bit on his lip, hating to be so pathetic, and he was glad no-one was here, Severide wasn’t here to see him like that.

“Alright, Matt”, he heard the doctor say through the fog in his mind, “looks like the drainage didn’t work properly, and your chest cavity has filled with exudate. Nothing to worry about, but we have to suck it out and place a new drainage. It won’t be very pleasant, so I’ll give you a light sedation.”

No, he wanted to say, it’ll just make me puke again. It cost him all his strength to grab for the doctor’s hand before he could push the sedative and shake his head. “D-don’t. Please.”

“You don’t want sedation? – Matt, your pain level is already pretty high, I’ll strongly recommend it.”

He shook his head again. “No. No more puking.”

The doctor exchanged a look with the nurse. Eventually, he gave in. “Alright. No sedative. But I’ll give you a shot of morphine, and some local anaesthesia.” The nurse handed him another syringe, and he pushed the medication into the cannula on the back of Casey’s hand. Soon, a warm feeling spread through his body, and he closed his eyes while they positioned him for the procedure.

Despite the morphine and the local anaesthesia, it still felt highly unpleasant, and he bit on his lip to not make a sound, tasting more blood. By the time they were done, his face was wet from tears again.

The doctor left after making sure the new drainage was placed correctly, and the machine was sucking out whatever fluid was building up. The nurse cleaned him up a little and changed the sheets, reassuring him the blood he’d spat out was only from biting on his tongue, before she fastened the C-PAP around his head and helped him settle on his left side again. He was exhausted, and the morphine made him drowsy, and so he slowly drifted off.

Dr Rhodes was there in the morning, checking on the drainage and the amount of exudate. He said he wasn’t worried, it was nothing uncommon after thoracic surgery, though he was sorrow the drainage tube hadn’t sat well enough. He assumed it might have shifted due to the contractions of the abdominal and chest muscles during all his vomiting. He wanted to keep him in the ICU for a few more hours to make sure everything settled down well now. Casey was too tired to argue, and he was glad to get some more time with the C-PAP, not needing to worry about the strain of breathing. He closed his eyes and found himself drifting into a maze of weird dreams.

Severide was back at the hospital in the early morning. He hadn’t slept very well, the thought of Casey alone in a hospital bed bothering him. His heart dropped when he heard Casey’s stay in the ICU had been prolonged. It meant complications; and even though the desk nurse tried to reassure him, Severide was pretty upset. He was told to wait until the doctor had seen Casey, and he texted Herrmann, letting him know he’d better postpone his visit to the afternoon. Hopefully, Casey would be out of the ICU by then.

Matt was sleeping when he was finally let in, C-PAP fastened around his head. He was awfully pale against the sheets, and Kelly bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before he asked the nurse, “What happened?”

She explained the drainage hadn’t work properly and Casey’s chest cavern had filled with wound secretion, they’d had to suck it out and place a new drainage. Right now, everything was looking good, exudate being sucked out like it should. Kelly didn’t dare image how unpleasant the procedure must have been for Matt. Absentmindedly, his thumb tried to smooth out the hard line between the other man’s eyes. “Is he in pain?” he asked, carefully grabbing for Matt’s hand while he sat down.

The nurse’s expression wasn’t very reassuring. “Dr Rhodes just gave him some morphine” she said, “and we applied local anaesthesia. There is a lot of innervations in the intercostal area, so, yes, recovery from thoracic surgery can be quite painful. We’re doing our best to manage it.”

You’d better, Kelly thought. He hated that Matt was in so much pain. Hated all the tubes sticking out of him, hated that he couldn’t lie on his favoured side. But most of all, he hated that there was nothing he could do to spare his friend what he had to suffer through.

Casey drifted in and out of sleep most of the morning. At some point, he noticed a presence beside him, a warm arm against his, Severide, and he wanted to smile and cry at the same time, a feeling he couldn’t describe and gave up analysing, exhaustion pulling at him. Next time he woke, he heard voices above his head, and filtered Boden’s, and another one he couldn’t quite place. But then he felt someone poke at him, and he blinked and saw Dr Garland bending over him. The oncologist gave him a smile. “Hey Matt, how are you feeling?”

“Like crap”, he croaked. His throat was raw, lips dry and cracked. The C-PAP was gone, and breathing had become tedious again.

“I’ve heard you had a rough night. But there’s good news, the new drainage is doing its job, and the amount of exudate has dropped. There’s also no air in your pleural cavity, so we’ll remove one of the drainage tubes, and you can move to the IMC this afternoon. – This is Meghan, your primary nurse”, he gestured at a young Black woman standing at the other side of the bed. “She will guide you through some breathing exercises. I know everything is still quite painful, but to avoid any further complications it is important you breathe as deeply as you can. So, don’t give her a hard time, alright?”

Casey barely listened to what he said, eyes darting through the room. “Where’s Sev?” God, he needed some water.

Boden stepped into his view, explaining, “I send him to grab some food. He’ll be back soon.” Casey felt a fear subside he hadn’t been aware of having, and he realised he was still expecting Severide to leave, to abandon him, and a familiar sadness settled over him. He pushed it aside, focusing on Meghan instead. “Can I have some water please.”

“Of course.” She smiled, handing him a cup with a straw that stood beside the bed. He hadn’t noticed it before. “Only small sips, alright? We don’t want to overwhelm your stomach.”

Yeah, he could do without another round of puking. The water felt soothing in his dry mouth though, and he was disappointed when she took it away.

“Are you ready to go through the breathing exercises now?” Meghan asked. He nodded, though he really didn’t feel like it, he was tired and there was this overwhelming sadness deep inside of him that had him wanting to hide away from the world. Besides, the stitches were pulling at his skin, not to mention the highly disturbing sensation of the drainage tubes, and his chest was on fire anyway. But he figured if he just went along with it, she’d be gone fastest.

Meghan praised him even though he didn’t think he did very well. She asked if he was experiencing any pain, and he shook his head, bluntly lying. But he didn’t want to be poked at anymore. She handed him a fresh cup of water, encouraging him to drink, stating smilingly that he would be able to move to the Intermediate Care Unit in a few hours.

When she was gone, Casey let his eyes drift shut, not feeling up to talk to the chief. He didn’t realise there were tears leaking out from under his closed lids.

Chapter Text

It was a relief when he was moved to his room in the Intermediate Care Unit. It was quieter than the ICU, and the room had a window. And he could have Bugs, something he was strangely happy about.

One of the drainage tubes had been pulled before they moved him, and Dr Rhodes was confident they would be able to take the remaining one out tomorrow. The pain was still considerable, but he felt a bit more awake, even had been able to walk a few steps with Meghan’s help. He felt as if he’d run a marathon afterwards, and he thought he’d probably never be able to do any kind of workout. Let alone run into a burning building.

But that was out of the question anyway. In the eyes of CFD, the surgery had rendered him unfit for duty. Inevitably. No matter what level of physical fitness he would accomplish over time.

Casey sat in his bed and plucked at the food Meghan had brought, pulling a face. Food wasn’t quite the right word; it was just pudding. He hated pudding.

With a sigh, he pushed the tray away. Severide met his gaze with a frown. “I think you’re supposed to eat that.”

“It’s disgusting. But suit yourself.” He leant back against the pillows and grabbed for Bugs, slightly wincing at the movement.

“You should eat though. Just a little bit?” Severide tried to encourage. He took up the cup, filling a spoon.

Casey scrunched his face. “I ate the soup. I won’t eat that. And don’t you dare feed me.”

“Spare the poor man, Severide.” Herrmann stepped into the room, holding up some small Tupperware. “I got something much better.” He handed the box to Casey. “Cindy made some porridge, the way you like it.”

The frown didn’t leave Severide’s face. “Can you have that? They said to start carefully with food…”

Casy glared at him. “Stop mother-henning me.” He opened the box and inhaled the scent. This was indeed much better than the awful pudding.

“It’s just plain porridge. The nurse said it was okay”, Herrmann reassured. Severide shrugged and put the spoonful of pudding in his own mouth before Casey snatched the cutlery away from him, not hiding the disgust from his face. “What, I like it”, the squad lieutenant pouted.

Herrmann pulled a chair up and sat down. “Good to see you up, Casey. Everyone sends their best – in fact, they are all eager to see you. But I thought we’d better not ambush you with full force at once.”

Casey managed a strained smile. He couldn’t actually imagine they wanted to see him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed the cold shoulders he’d received last time he’d been in the house. And he’d never been particularly close to anyone. Dawson once, maybe, but that seemed ages ago. He still felt betrayed for her going to Voight behind his back. You have to see it from my perspective. Yeah, scrap that. He was sick of seeing things from other people’s perspective. Rumours had it Voight would be getting out soon. And he would be lying to say it didn’t give him the creeps. The man had tried to get him killed before, and there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t be up for revenge. How Dawson could willingly put herself into that cop’s debt, he couldn’t understand. Who knew what favour he would be calling in from her.

Maybe the cancer would do the job for Voight though. Right now, Casey found it hard to imagine ever being healthy again. And if he was stuck to a life in bed, he could as well die.

He only managed half of the porridge. It was good, but he was afraid to throw up again, and his chest was burning from the effort of sitting up. Severide helped him get comfortable again – well, as comfortable as possible -, before he snatched back the spoon to finish off the pudding. With the sounds of him and Herrmann talking, Casey slowly drifted back to sleep.

He woke up with his head pressed against a hand. Severide’s hand, his mind provided, and he kept his eyes closed, not wanting the sensation of the fingers gently carding through his hair to end. Hallie used to stroke over his head like this, whenever she wanted him to calm down, and he’d always liked it, it soothed him. But somehow, with Severide’s hand, it felt even better. As if his hand was perfectly suited to fit against his skull.

Casey became aware of voices now, Severide and a woman, Shay perhaps, and gradually, the mumbles formed into words.

“Are you going to tell him?” Definitely Shay.

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re in love with him, dumbass.”

The movement of Kelly’s fingers stopped. And Casey’s heart started beating a thousand miles a minute. No way. He isn’t feeling like that. Shay is only teasing him, that’s all.

“I – I don’t…” Kelly stammered. See, Casey’s mind chimed in at once. Don’t be stupid. He’ll never love you, not Kelly Severide, the guy who chases every skirt in the city.

“Kelly, even a blind goose would recognise the way you look at him. Everyone can see it. Well, except for Casey; he’s hopeless. Which means, if you ever want him to know, you’ll have to tell him.”

“How do you mean, everyone?” Kelly had taken up stroking over his head again. Casey tried very hard not to blink or move, even though he felt the tears pressing against his lids, and he didn’t even know why he was about to cry. Because Kelly didn’t love him? Ridiculous. As if he even wanted him to love him. But yet, there was an ache in his heart, an ache totally unforeseen.

“I told you there is a betting pool going. Darden used to say if he’d been able to catch the moment you first set eyes on Casey on camera, none of us would doubt it was love at first sight for a second.”

Kelly snorted. “That’s romantic crap made up for movies. He was just making fun.”

Casey thought he could hear Shay roll her eyes. “Why don’t you just say it, Kelly? You love him. I know it, you know it, Darden knew it.”

Kelly didn’t say anything. And that’s when he couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. He didn’t say it. No-one said it. He wasn’t worth being loved.

It didn’t take long for Kelly to spot the traitorous tears, and he bent down and gently wiped them away with his thumb. “Matt? Are you in pain? Shall I call someone?”

He shook his head, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed. Nobody could make that pain go away. He felt Kelly’s touch against his cheek, almost felt his breath on his skin. It was too much, and he pulled himself away best he could. “Leave me alone please.” His voice was raw, and he still didn’t open his eyes, not wanting to see Kelly’s face. Hearing his voice was hard enough.

“But…” he raised, and Casey thought he reached for him again, but then the arm was gently pushed away. “Kelly”, Shay mumbled, lowly but determined. He blinked a little when he sensed them move away and saw Shay guide Kelly out of the room. Only when they were gone, he allowed his tears to flow freely.

Shay came back alone a little while later, and Casey wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. She helped him sit up and handed him some water before she settled in the chair Kelly had occupied before. Without beating around the bush, she asked, “Did you hear us talking?”

He sighed and turned his head away, staring at his hands. The cannula in the back of his hand hurt, and even under the bandage he could see the skin was bruised. He did not want to admit it, he did not want to talk about it at all. But this was Shay, and deflecting wouldn’t get him very far. So, he nodded, still not looking at her.

Shay pulled her knees to the chest and settled her chin on them, eyes still on him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

He shrugged. What was there to think?

“Alright. So, just to get this sorted, because you guys suck at communicating and I really don’t want this drama of unspoken feelings to unfold again – how do you feel about Kelly being in love with you? Does it disturb you, freak you out? Is it confusing? Can you imagine something being there, or would you rather not think about it at all? Isn’t there anything on your part, and you wish you’d never heard it, because you’re afraid to lose your friendship?”

Casey let out an exasperated huff. “It doesn’t matter what I think or feel. He doesn’t want me.”

Shay stared at him from big wide eyes as if he was from another planet. “Matt Casey, where have you been the last hour? If you didn’t have major surgery two days ago, I would whack your head into tomorrow”, she threatened. “Kelly Severide is in love with you. I know it, he admitted it to my face. He never had the balls to acknowledge it, but truth is, he’s been in love with you for a very long time. And I honestly don’t know how you can’t see it, the way he looks at you.”

But Casey shook his head. It just didn’t make sense. “Why doesn’t he say it then. He never says it, not even now. All he ever does is pushing me away.”

Shay nodded understandingly. “I know. But tell me… has the thought never freaked you out, to be in love with a guy? I’d say it is ridiculous, but I realise with guys like you, the kind of upbringing you had… I mean, picture Benny when Kelly walks in hand in hand with another man. I’d figure it’s not that easy for him, to acknowledge it, to speak it out loud even. Guess it wouldn’t be for you, either.”

Yeah. His father would beat the shit out of him, even now, if he was still alive. His mother would never speak to him again.

Not that she did anyway.

“He’s been hiding it for years, Matt. Afraid of his own feelings. Afraid of rejection, and, I guess, afraid you wouldn’t want anything to do with him once he admitted to it. So, cut him some slack if he doesn’t just say “I love you” right away. He’s only beginning to come to terms with it himself.”

Casey continued staring at his hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand. His own feelings were nothing less complicated. But still, he was hurt. And he didn’t want to be the one who understood and put himself aside, not again. He wanted to be selfish for once. Absentmindedly, he plucked at the cannula on the back of his hand.

Until Shay grabbed for his wrist and gently pulled his hand away. “Don’t pull it out. They’ll only poke you somewhere else.”

His eyes filled with tears. And he felt stupid; when did he become so pathetic? As if he didn’t have bigger problems than Kelly Severide’s feelings right now.

Like, adjusting to a life with one lung lobe down. A life without firefighting.

The tears only came faster.

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” Shay was tearing up too, and she climbed on the bed and pulled him into her arms. “It’s okay, don’t push yourself over this.” She placed a kiss to his head, and that simple gesture was so caring, it washed all his barriers away.

“I – I could never let myself fall”, he stammered. “Always had to take care of myself – deal with everything on my own. It’s hard to open up if all you’ve ever learned is guard yourself. But with Kelly, it was easy. Everything was easy. I could just – be. Like with no-one else, not even Andy.” Sobs built up in his chest, setting his right side on fire. “But then he – he pushed me away. Said it was my fault Andy died. I - I’ve never seen so much hate in his eyes before. There was one person I allowed myself to fall with, and it ended with my bloody face on the asphalt.” Literally. “And he kept saying it, and I – I don’t know if I will ever be able to trust him again. I want him, I want him with me more than anyone else, but I can’t trust him, I’m just waiting for him to ram the knife in my back all the time.”

Shay ran her hand up and down his back, and he sensed her nodding. “I get it. But the thing with love, with relationships, hell with life itself is – you got to take a risk, every single day. Otherwise, you’ll never find what you’re looking for. You got to test the ground to see if it holds, or you stay stuck with the fire closing in on you. Sometimes, it will give, and you will fall through to the basement. But if that happens, Matt, there’s always some of us who will come and pull you out and patch you up again. Like we always do.”

Chapter Text

Casey was surprised to see Heather sitting beside his bed when he woke up. It had to be afternoon by now, the sun having wandered around the building and leaving his room in shadows. Heather held Bugs on her lap, intensely studying his face. Bugs had a friendly face, despite being a bug.

Casey wiped at his crusted eyes. Last thing he remembered, he had cried his eyes out in Shay’s arms. She was gone, and so was Severide. Whom he sent away.

“Heather”, he mumbled, still tired. He was so exhausted.

“Matt.” She smiled, an unsure smile, and handed Bugs back to him. “It fell to the floor.”

Casey grabbed for the plush toy, his movements still sluggish.

“I remember when Andy bought this.” Heather chuckled. “He was so excited. Insisted he needed to get it for you.”

A small smile tugged at Casey’s lips, and he pulled Bugs a little closer to his chest. “How… how did you know.” His voice was raw. He felt so weak.

“Severide told me.” Heather’s features softened a little. “I’m so sorry, Matt… if there’s anything I can do…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say. But what was there to say anyway.

He coughed, and she handed him a cup of water. It soothed his throat a little.

“Sorry I made myself so rare lately”, he murmured, watching his fingers curl around one of Bugs’ legs. Heather smiled again, but he could see it cost her effort.

“No, it’s my fault. I know I scared you off.” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry about that. It’s just… You seemed as lost as I felt, and I thought, why not, why can’t we find some comfort in each other. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry.”

Casey moved his head in a small acknowledging nod It wasn’t that he blamed Heather for seeking comfort. If the circumstances had been different, he might have given in. He wasn’t above seeking comfort in someone’s arms for his own good.

“’s alright, don’t worry about it.” He hated how weak his voice sounded. How weak he felt. Heather smiled and took his hand, squeezing tightly.

“Thank you.” He felt hollow.

“Did you talk to Kelly?”

“I did. Thanks for setting my head straight on that. It’s been good for the boys, spending time with him.” Now that you’re no longer available. She didn’t say that, but it was what his mind added to her words.

“So, how’s… how are…” She swallowed hard. She couldn’t say it. Casey closed his eyes briefly. He was tired. Tired of all of this.

“I’m going to be sick for a while. But I’m going to be okay.” He didn’t want to talk about his odds. In all honesty, he wanted to be alone.

He was still far from comprehending it all.

He missed Hallie.

He missed Kelly, and Andy.

He felt alone, and Heather sitting beside his bed didn’t change that.

He asked about the boys, so he didn’t have to talk about his illness. Actually, he didn’t want to talk at all. Thankfully, Heather didn’t stay for long. Casey pulled Bugs against his chest and closed his eyes, knowing sleep wouldn’t come easy.

Casey had a restless night, and he felt pretty groggy when Dr Garland came in in the morning. He did a quick check on his wound but announced Dr Rhodes would be in later to decide if the remaining drainage could be pulled. Dr Garland sat down then, and Casey thought this meant he didn’t have good news, and he tried very hard to keep his features neutral.

“So, as you know, the surgery was successful”, the oncologist started carefully. “However, I did take a close look at your bloodwork over the last couple days, and there is something that concerns me in regard to your upcoming chemotherapy.” He paused, casting a serious glance at Matt over the rim of his glasses. “The parameters indicative for renal function are hinting at some kind of malfunction.”

Casey closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Of course. He should have known the incident with the drug dealers would bite him in the ass sooner or later.

“Normally, I wouldn't be too worried about it”, Garland continued, not having noticed anything about his reaction, “but considering the first-choice drugs for your chemotherapy are renal toxic, and there is a small chance for kidney failure even with healthy patients, I would like to get to the bottom of this before we start with chemo.”

Casey sighed a little. “I had a contusion of my left kidney a few weeks ago”, he admitted. “The doctor said I might have permanent damage.”

“Oh, alright.” Dr Garland flipped through his chart briefly. “It doesn’t say anything about this in your file… you haven’t been here for treatment, I assume?”

Casey shook his head and named the clinic he’d went to, as well as the doctor who’d treated him. Dr Garland jotted both down, announcing he would get into contact with his colleague. He also said he wanted to do a scan of his kidney to assess the damage.

“What does this mean?” Casey asked. “Does it mean I can’t get chemotherapy?”

“No.” Dr Garland shook his head. “It only means we have to reconsider the drug regime. And we will definitely need to monitor your renal function very closely during chemo cycles. Which means you’ll have to go for inpatient treatment at least for the start, to be on the safe side.”

Casey’s heart sank. Dr Garland had offered the prospect of outpatient treatment for chemo, where he would have been able to stay at home and only come in for the administration of the drugs. He was already fed up with staying at the hospital, the idea of being here during chemo again wasn’t very enticing, to say the least.

But no matter how desperate he felt inside, he didn’t let it show. The darkness slowly consumed him, crashing down on him in one violent wave once the doctor had left the room. He should have known. Should have known life wouldn’t spare him because it never did. And it was his own fault, for being stupid enough to walk into a drug dealer’s home on his own without calling for backup first.

You’re always making things worse, Matthew, the voice of his father spat. And he was right. He wasn’t good for anything, not even for himself.

A nurse came to take the untouched breakfast away. Dr Rhodes came, and after some thorough examinations, the drainage was pulled. Casey refused sedatives and was left with a dull ache afterwards. Meghan came to guide him through breathing exercises, admonishing him to do them regularly over the day. He followed her guidance with no enthusiasm. She pushed him to get up and walk a few steps, and he almost refused, only the threat of the catheter coming back motivating him to leave the bed. He rolled in on his side afterwards and pulled the blanket over his head, wishing for the world to disappear.

He was alone when he woke up again, and he didn’t know if he should be happy or sad about it. With all his might he tried to not let his thoughts wander to Severide. Sure, he had better things to do than sit beside his bed and watch him sleep. Or be snapped at. Casey knew he wasn’t pleasant company right now, and he genuinely liked to be alone. Still, there was this little part of him that longed for company.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about what Shay said. Wonder if it was true. Wonder if he wanted it to be true.

Watching the sun wander over the floor of his room he slowly came to terms with the fact that nobody was showing up. Severide wasn’t showing up, and maybe that meant Shay wasn’t right after all, Severide had just been here out of pity, and he had already enough. The thought that the squad lieutenant was just respecting his wish to be left alone didn’t even cross his mind.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He looked up, and there stood Chief Boden, holding up a paper bag. “Hey. I brought breakfast.”

Casey blinked surprised, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. He was breathing heavily, still feeling out of breath most of the time, glad for the oxygen support he was on. Boden sat down in the chair beside the bed and unpacked the bag, putting the food he brought on the tray and gently pushing it towards him, and Casey caught sight of his favourite breakfast bagel. How Boden knew about that, he had no idea. “Thanks”, he mumbled, a small smile forming on his lips. He didn’t have much of an appetite, but he had to admit he was hungry, and this was much better than what the nurse had brought before.

“Would you like some coffee too?” Boden asked. “The nurse told me you could have some, if you want.”

“Actually, that’d be great.” Casey took a bite from the bagel. It tasted wonderful.

“Alright, I’ll get us some.” Boden got up. “Be right back.”

Casey had finished the bagel by the time Boden returned with the coffee, and to his surprise, he felt better. The coffee was just how he liked it, black and steaming hot, and again he wondered how Boden knew his taste. It burned his tongue, but he didn’t care.

The moment of bliss only lasted shortly though. “How are you doing?” Boden asked, and it came all crashing back down on him.

He frowned. Shrugged a little. “Okay, I guess.”

“I spoke to Dr Garland.”

He took his gaze away.

“He said there was an issue with your kidney.”

Casey shrugged again. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want Boden to know about the incident that landed him in hospital not too long ago. The remembrance of the pain was bad enough, and he felt a sharp stinging in his side as if it had just happened. “He said they’d handle it.”

Boden nodded. Good thing he knew his lieutenant well enough to know not to push.

The chief stayed for a while, talked about shift and the latest shenanigans. Casey was thankful for his support, but still, he was glad when he left. He wasn’t in the mood for talking.

The remaining hours of the day passed achingly slowly. He tried to read but could barely focus, his thoughts drifting off all the time. Drifting to Severide, mostly. Meghan came, reminding him to do his breathing exercises, and urging him to get up and walk up and down the corridor again.

He stood at the window in his room, staring out into the sunny day, feeling sad. Everybody was out having fun, enjoying the warm summer day while he was stuck in here. Alone.

Lonely.

And he didn’t even know what he wanted.

Severide had been restless all day. He tried to focus on the day’s chores, following Shay’s advice to give Casey some space. But whatever he did, his thoughts wandered back to the blonde, to the sight of him so pale and sick in that hospital bed. All he wanted was to be with him, to hold his hand and watch him sleep and tell him everything was going to be alright. He needed it to reassure himself just as much as to offer Matt comfort.

He hated the thought of how alone Matt must have felt the past weeks. Probably still did. Severide knew how it felt; to be alone among people. Alone and seeing your whole life fall apart right before your eyes. He experienced it not too long ago, with the raw pain of Andy’s death and his desperate tries to hide his injury from the world, from himself even. A lonesome battle he had been damned to lose.

He didn’t want Matt to feel the same way, not even for a second. And yet he knew he did.

Part of Severide’s anger had been due to him believing Casey was soldiering through it all so easily. He had Hallie, he was close to Heather and the boys. He had all the people at 51 on his side, no secret they liked Casey better than the gruff squad lieutenant.

Little had he known it had all been a masquerade. A much better one than he had ever been able to put on. Casey was a master at pretending, always had been.

And he should have known.

What a wasted year.

Shay had said to give Casey some space. To not show up today. And it was afternoon by now, he almost made it.

But he couldn’t. Matt shouldn’t be alone. He shouldn’t think he didn’t care. So, Severide went and bought some things he thought Matt might like and drove to the hospital.

The door was ajar when he walked up to Matt’s room. The truck lieutenant wasn’t alone.

Severide was familiar with the tall figure bending over him, hand stroking through the short blonde hair. Doing what he’d wanted to do all day.

Hallie.

And while he stood there and watched, watched how she pressed her lips on the ones he wanted to kiss, something broke inside of him.

He was too late. Again.

Chapter Text

Matt felt the familiar touch of a hand stroking over his head when he woke, and he kept his eyes closed, not wanting it to stop. His mind provided a face to the touch, and his lips twitched into a smile forming a single syllable, Sev, heart making a happy jump. He came back.

But he knew it wasn’t Kelly’s hand before he opened his eyes. And still, when he blinked up into the face belonging to the hand, disappointment settled over him like a thick grey cloud.

“Hallie”, he whispered roughly.

“Hey Matt.” She smiled down at him, her eyes shining. He hated that she pitied him.

“What… what’re you doing here?” He might be disappointed, but he still liked the touch of her hand against his skull. And let’s be honest, there wasn’t anyone else who would do that for him.

“I’m back in Chicago since last week”, Hallie replied. “I applied for a job here few weeks ago and started in the ER yesterday. When I saw your name in the system…” She took her gaze away, wiping over her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Matt. If I’d known…”

He, too, turned away. “’s not that bad.” Just the end of my life as I liked it.

She laughed a little. It couldn’t wipe the tears out of her voice. “It’s so you to say that.” She took his hand, closed hers around it. He’d rather have her stroke his head again. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot while I was away. About us.”

He felt a frown form on his forehead. “Is there an “us”?”

She shrugged. “It can, if we want it to?”

A question he wasn’t able to answer. Part of him was happy to see Hallie. Part of him wanted her to pull him into her arms and hold him like she used to. She was familiar, safe, a strong shoulder to lean on. Someone who always respected him for who he was, loved him for who he was. And then there was another part of him wishing she hadn’t come back. Not now, when things were so complicated, and he barely knew where up and down was. And he realised how much the breakup still hurt, that moment when they stood side by side, realising they wanted totally different things from life, and all they could see was their path parting.

She left. And he moved on.

At least he tried to.

Matt didn’t know how to answer her question. He loved her; he always would. But that didn’t change who they were.

He tried to sit up and the effort made him cough. Hallie, all professional, supported him immediately, adjusting his bed and checking his oxygen and fetching him some water. He felt exhausted by the time the coughing fit wore off, eyes burning and lungs too. Hallie set back down beside the bed, worried eyes on him.

“How are you doing? – I saw in your file the surgery went well, but there were some complications.”

“’s fine”, he mumbled, tiredly resting his head back against the cushions. “’m going to be okay.” He neutralised his features, like he was used to. He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t even know if he wanted her here at all.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all this alone”, Hallie said. “If I’d known, I’d…”

“Don’t”, he cut her off. “Don’t say you you’d come back. You don’t owe me anything.”

She bit on her lip, thinking for a moment. “I know, Matt. And it’s not about owing something. But we’ve been together for eight years. We almost got married.”

“Yeah. But it never got past the “almost”, right.” Matt turned his gaze away again, looking out of the window.

She took his hand again. He didn’t pull back.

“I know. And we both know there’s reasons for that. But still… You’ll always mean a lot to me. And I – I’d like to be there for you, if you let me. There’s a rough road ahead of you… You shouldn’t have to go through that alone.”

And wasn’t it tempting. To fall back into her arms. Familiar, strong arms. But deep down, he knew he would only do it to not be alone. And that wouldn’t be fair on Hallie.

Slowly, he pulled his hand away, his eyes searching for hers. “Look, I appreciate you being here. But I can’t… can’t think about this, us, now. And I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to… to take care of me, as much as I like the idea. We would only fall back into old habits… and probably end where we always end, at “almost”. I want you to be happy. And I think that means for you to move on.”

Tears were shimmering in Hallie’s eyes, mirroring his own. She wiped them away. “I love you, Matt. Even though I know you’re right.”

His smile was as sad as hers. “I love you too. And in another life, we might be meant to be.”

Her tender kiss was a reassurance of all the love they shared over the years, and a sad goodbye.

If he’d known Hallie would leave only seconds later, Severide would have turned on his heels and run. But he was frozen, the sight of Hallie and Matt kissing burning in his eyes, and so, it was inevitable that she all but bumped into him.

“Oh, hey, Severide.” Her smile was teary. He didn’t get why. She had the most amazing man in the world, she shouldn’t be sad.

Don’t hurt him again, he wanted to say. “Hallie. Didn’t know you are back”, was what came out instead, voice flat.

“Only a few days ago.” He noticed now she wore scrubs.

“You’re working at Med now?”

She nodded. “Got to run. See you, Kelly.”

“Yeah.” He stared after her. Then through the open door, at the man who sat on the bed, his usually bright blue eyes that now were so clouded on him. Too late to turn on his heels and run.

Severide squared his shoulders and walked in. Trying very hard to erase the image of Hallie kissing those perfect lips from his mind. He plastered a smile on his face. “Hey.”

“Sev.” There was a sparkle in Matt’s eyes. Well, he had all reason to be happy, with Hallie back. “Didn’t think you would come.”

Severide shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Had a lot to do… but of course I would come”, he added, not wanting Matt to think he wasn’t important to him. He settled down on the chair beside the bed, the bag he brought still in his hands.

“What’s this?” Matt asked.

“Oh, I….” Severide felt his cheeks heat a little. Somehow, everything he did felt stupid now. “Thought you could do with some distraction.” He handed the bag over.

Matt emptied it on his lap. His eyes widened as he skipped through the content. “You… you bought me comics?”

Severide shrugged again. “Thought it might be an easier read; you’re getting tired fast.”

Matt pulled one out of the pile. “Garfield?”

“You said you liked it as a kid.” God, he felt so stupid. Matt had a troubled childhood, he knew that, how had he been thinking he would like something reminding him of that?

“I did. Can’t believe you remember that.” Matt put the comics down, looking back at Severide, eyes shining. “Thanks, Sev.” His voice was raw, and he had to clear his throat. “This is great.”

“Yeah?” A small, warm feeling spread through Kelly’s chest. Maybe it hadn’t been that stupid after all.

And yet…

“You must be glad that Hallie’s back.” Severide could only hope he didn’t sound too gruff.

Matt seemed a bit confused, brows knitting like he was in deep concentration. “Hallie? – Oh, sure. Was nice to see her.” His gaze was back on the comics, leaving through one of the Garfield’s with a smile. “Though I wish she hadn’t seen me like this.”

“No need to ashamed, Case”, Severide stated firmly. The next sentence cost him more than he would like to admit. As much as he had always liked Hallie, he wanted to be that someone for Matt. “She’ll take good care of you.”

Matt’s frown deepened, and he looked back at Kelly. “Why would she?”

Now, Kelly was confused. “Because she’s… you are...”

Matt sighed, shaking his head. “That’s been over for a while. And I don’t think I want to pick it up where we left it.” There was a deep sadness edged into his voice, and Kelly didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. Part of him was relieved, cheering even. But he could see Matt was heartbroken, and that made him feel sorry for him. Far as he knew, Hallie had been Matt’s first real relationship. And it had almost been ten years. A much longer time than Kelly could claim for any of his former relationships.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbled lamely. “I thought… never mind.”

Matt shrugged. “Don’t be sorry. It is what it is.” He tried to act as if it wasn’t a big deal. But Kelly could see all the underlying pain behind his eyes, so thoroughly hidden from the world. And he wished he had the courage to just wrap the other man in his arms and tell him everything was going to be alright, and he’d be at his side until the end of time if he wanted him to.

But he didn’t, and so, he just snatched one of the comics, and they sat side by side in silence, reading comics reminding them of a childhood not without worries, but associated with a level of carefreeness that had disappeared forever once crossing the threshold to adulthood.

Chapter Text

Casey had a bad night. He was sick again; he didn’t even know why. But the why didn’t matter much anyway when you were busy puking your guts up. Casey was retching and heaving for what felt like forever, Meghan sitting patiently by his side, holding a tray under his chin and rubbing his back. She gave him something for the nausea once the acute attack was over, but his stomach didn’t stop rolling, there just wasn’t anything left to throw up anymore. He was hooked up on an IV again, and he curled up on his side once Meghan had left, Bugs pressed tightly against his stomach, and wished for this world of pain and darkness to end.

Hallie came by in the morning after her shift, and it made Casey realise it was second shift at the firehouse, so he better not expect any visitors. And he was torn between relief and disappointment once more, not knowing what he wanted, what he needed.

Hallie knew him well and she carefully asked about his depression, if he had talked to someone. On more than one occasion, Dr Garland had offered he talk to a counsellor or even someone from the psychiatric ward, to help deal with the serious illness he was facing. Every time, Casey had declined. He was fine. He was always fine. Because that’s what Casey men are, to the world outside. Fine. No matter how dark and stormy the weather inside might be.

Somehow, he managed to deceit Hallie. Maybe because she was tired. Maybe because she was still processing what he told her, that he didn’t see a future for them. Maybe because there was a distance already settling between them.

She left, and he was alone again. He did his breathing exercises. He walked up and down the corridor. He managed to force down half his breakfast without throwing up. He sat down in the chair at the window, wrapped in a fluffy blanket Shay had brought the other day, and stared out into the summer day.

He felt isolated. And if a tear or two rolled down his cheek, he didn’t even notice.

The day after Casey’s surgery, Boden had held a speech at roll call, reminding them all of the risk of lung cancer coming along with their job. He’d jotted the early symptoms down on the board and admonished them all to be vigilant and not waste time seeing a doctor if anything came up.

The chief didn’t explicitly say it, but after that, everybody knew about Casey. Didn’t help that Herrmann and Shay weren’t the best keepers of a secret. Well, Casey hadn’t asked them to keep it in, so Severide guessed it was okay. And if anything, it only led to a broad show of solidarity with their former truck lieutenant. Severide just didn’t get why everyone came to him with questions about Casey’s wellbeing, and how to support him. As if they all had forgotten about the latest fallout between them.

Shay only shrugged when he complained about it, stating, “Everybody knows you can’t exist without each other. It’s just you two who forget from time to time.”

And that was that. So, Severide guessed he shouldn’t be surprised when Dawson approached him. She looked a bit troubled, barely meeting his gaze.

“Hey, erm, how’s Casey?”

He shrugged. “Putting on a brave face.” What did she expect him to say? Casey was looking at an uncertain future. A future different from the life he’d had up until here, that was the only thing certain about it.

Dawson bit on her lip. “Do you… do you think he would be okay with me stepping by?”

Severide sighed, turning to fully face her for the first time. “Dawson, I really don’t know. I guess you’ll have to find out.”

She nodded, looking unhappy. “It’s just… we used to be friends, at least I think we were, and now… I don’t know… what if...” She wiped at her eyes, sniffing a little, not finishing the sentence. What if he dies. “I don’t want us to end like this.”

Severide wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, if she wanted his sympathy. On the other hand, she knew him well enough to know she wouldn’t get it. “Being honest about the whole Voight thing sure would have helped”, he said, a slight sharpness to his voice. “And I’m sure you’ve heard, Voight’s out, and rumours have it he’s being re-installed.” The thought of that cop running around again made his gut wrench. “So, a proper apology about going to the cop who tried to get him killed might help. And I’m not talking about some “you have to see my perspective” crap. Maybe you should try to see his perspective instead.”

Dawson nodded, at least having the decency to look contrite. “I just want him to be okay.”

“We all do, Dawson. And he will be, because he’s a fighter, he doesn’t give up easily.” They’d all seen enough proof to that over the years, not least during the Voight incident. But then again, Casey hadn’t fought for himself then. And that, Severide thought bitterly, might make all the difference. He kept that thought to himself though, and Dawson walked off. Only when he was alone again, Severide put his head in his hands, wishing shift was over already. He hated the thought of Matt being all alone in the hospital.

Casey had fully expected to spend the day alone, and he was surprised when Cindy walked in about noon, pushing a wheelchair.

“Hey, Matt. How do you feel about catching some sun?”

He was so overwhelmed by her presence and the suggestion to go outside that he failed to answer. She wasn’t bothered though; she just walked up to him and gave him a fierce hug. “Oh dear, it’s good to see you.”

“You too”, he mumbled, shyly reciprocating the hug. It was always so strange to him, the feeling of a mother’s embrace not something he was very familiar with. And Cindy might be too young to be his mother, but she just had something motherly about her he only ever realised he was missing in his life when she was around.

“It’s really nice weather. So, I asked the nurse, and she said it was okay if I took you to the garden for a bit. What do you say? We could take a nice walk and sit somewhere for some coffee later.”

The idea of leaving the hospital room for a while was enticing. Still, Casey eyed the wheelchair with a frown. “Do I have to sit in that?”

Cindy laughed. “You can walk; in fact, the nurse has encouraged you do. But she also said you’re most likely not up to make all the way to the garden and back yet. So, here’s the deal: I’ll wheel you outside, where you can walk around for a bit, and whenever you think your strength is leaving you, you can just sit down again. And I’ll wheel you back up, so you don’t waste your energy for walking through corridors.”

It was sensible, he guessed. He probably wouldn’t make it all the way to the hospital’s small garden on his own two feet, still being out of breath from simply walking up and down the corridor. The wheelchair was a small price to pay if it meant he could get out of here for a few hours.

Still, it made him realise how sick he was. He tried not to let show hard that realisation hit him, smiling up at Cindy when she draped Shay’s soft blanket over his lap.

It was warm outside, and Casey blinked up into the sun that glinted through the leaves of the large trees lining the path. Just a few feet into the garden, he signalled Cindy to stop so he could get up. Still being a bit unsteady on his feet, he was thankful when she hooked him under to provide support, though he would never admit to it.

They walked slowly, passing other patients resting on benches and some nurses sharing lunch under the shadows of a tree. Casey was out of air faster than he would like, breaths coming in short, strained pants, and not for the first time he thought he would never get used to this, never adapt to being short on air so quickly. Everyone kept reassuring him his lung capacity would improve, that he had enough reserve to activate in the remaining lobes. But right now, it didn’t feel like it at all, and he was frustrated.

Cindy talked about the kids, seemingly not taking notice of his struggles while subtly leading him to a bench. He sat down with shaking legs and closed his eyes, holding his face into the sun while working through the breathing pattern Meghan had shown him. Slow and deep. He felt an unpleasant pull at his stitches, but his heavy panting slowly subsided. Cindy rubbed a hand up and down his arm, and it felt strangely comforting.

When he opened his eyes again, out of nowhere a picnic had appeared on the bench between them. He smiled, thinking he shouldn’t be surprised; Cindy was always perfectly organised. He guessed you had to if you had four kids. He shook his head, smiling softly. “You shouldn’t have made all the effort.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I thought you might like something homemade over the hospital food. Besides, someone has to spoil you from time to time.” Cindy poured coffee from a thermos can into a mug.

Casey rapidly blinked the tears away that pricked at his eyes. Briefly, his thoughts wandered to his mother, and he wondered how she would react if she knew about his illness. If he should try to get a hold on her to let her know. But the idea tired him out already, and in all honesty, he couldn’t picture Nancy sitting here with him. Better not touch at something that only leads to disappointment.

“Thanks, Cindy. This is… great.” Nothing anyone has ever done for me.

She smiled warmly, handing him the coffee. “You’re welcome. Take a sandwich, you look like you could need it.”

Not surprisingly, the food tasted wonderful, even if it was only sandwiches. Cindy had made brownies too, knowing how much he liked them, and he allowed himself to feel a tiny bit of happiness, sitting in the warm summer sun and enjoying all the treats.

Despite of the summerly temperatures, Casey got shivery after a while. He closed both his hands around the warm coffee mug, feeling goosebumps on his arms even though he was wearing a warm sweater. Another proof to his sickness that part of him still wanted to deny. There was also the dull ache in his side making itself more aware, reminding him he’d had major surgery not even a week ago.

Cindy, bless her, was sensitive enough to not make him uncomfortable by commenting on his obviously deteriorating condition. Throwing a casual glance at her watch, she simply remarked, “I’m afraid I have to bring you back soon, otherwise Meghan will bite my head off.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” Casey handed the mug back to her. Now, he was glad for the wheelchair, not sure if he would have made the way back. He didn’t protest when Cindy helped him into it once she had packed the remnants of the picnic away. She draped the blanket over him, remarking with a smile, “I didn’t know you had joined squad.”

It was only then that Casey realised the sweater he had put on was Severide’s. He had to have left it yesterday. Why on Earth Severide, who was hotter than a volcano not only in regard to temper, would wear a sweater in the middle of summer was a whole other question. Casey felt himself blush deeply, fiddling with the sleeves. “I – it – it’s Sev’s”, he mumbled, not quite able to say why he was so embarrassed about it.

Cindy only smiled knowingly. “I’m glad you two are on speaking terms again.” Carefully, she pushed the wheelchair towards the entrance. Casey felt his mood drop considerably as soon as they passed the doors, the all too familiar smell of disinfectant hitting his nose. He might be tired and hurting, ready to lie down again, but he was also sick of being at the hospital. He wanted to go home, to sleep in his own bed, to wake up to something else than a too cheery nurse wanting to take his temperature.

They waited for the elevator that would bring them back to his floor when there was some hassle at the nurse’s desk. Used to scanning his surroundings, especially when crowds were involved, Casey threw a glance down the corridor. Spotting a familiar bunch of firefighters file into the ER, his heart leapt into his throat.

Chapter Text

Before Cindy knew what happened, Matt had jumped up, strolling towards the ER. The blanket slipped from his shoulders and fell to the ground, and he heard Cindy call his name, but he didn’t stop. Adrenaline could do wonders to an exhausted body, and he barely noticed his wheezing breaths and the aching in his side anymore.

Casey’s instincts hadn’t led him astray. It was the firefighters from 51. Capp and Boden talked to the desk nurse, and there was Tony and Mills, Hadley, Herrmann, Otis and Cruz, Mouch, Dawson, and Shay. A lieutenant he didn’t know. Probably his successor.

Who wasn’t there was Severide. He’d known it from the moment he spotted them, that it was Kelly who had been hurt. Everything inside of him was screaming.

“What happened?” His voice lacked the strength it once had, and it was only two or three of them who even noticed him, the lieutenant he didn’t know, Otis, and then Herrmann, whose eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Casey.”

That caught everyone’s attention, and suddenly, he had all eyes on him. Eyes that quickly filled with shock and pity at his sight.

And it slowly dawned on Casey how miserable, how sick he looked. Pale and thin, unshaven with dark bags under his eyes, nothing from the sneakers on his feet to the too big sweater resembling his former neat appearance. A sweater that was unmistakably Severide’s, and he could already hear the wheels turning in their heads.

But none of that mattered. “What happened”, he asked again, trying to steady his voice. It was hard when you were totally out of breath. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine, but Severide was trapped on the upper floor of a two-story house”, Herrmann explained. “Had to jump out before we had the ladder in position.”

Oh, God. Casey wasn’t sure if he even could get any paler, but it sure felt like it, all blood draining from his face.

“He was awake and responsive.” Shay appeared beside him, grabbing his arm and gently steering him towards the chairs. “Probably nothing but a few bruises. You know Kelly, he’s pretty much invincible.”

Casey appreciated her attempt to reassure him, but it didn’t do much, since he was all too aware Kelly was anything but invincible. Thoughts of the neck injury he hid from everyone for so long rushed to the forefront of his mind again, and he instantly felt nauseous. A broken vertebrae in his neck that could have killed Severide or left him permanently paralysed. All it would have taken being one wrong movement, one strain too many. And Casey still wasn’t sure if Severide ever properly reflected on that, if he was aware how likely such an outcome had been, doing the job with such an injury. What he’d done had been reckless and stupid, and right away self-destructive.

Casey knew he shouldn’t be one to speak: he was the master of downplaying injuries. But then again, he’d never broken his neck. And he still couldn’t comprehend that Kelly had, and walked around with it for months, working on the job they had, as if he didn’t give a care in the world if he’d end up in the wheelchair, or worse. And Casey hated himself for having been such a lousy friend. He’d known something was wrong with Severide, and yet, he’d looked the other way, too proud and too hurt to take care of his friend like he’d needed to.

Shay sat him down, taking the seat beside him and grasping his hand tightly. “He’s going to be alright, Casey.” He has to be. It was vibrating in her voice as much as in his soul.

Casey nodded, desperately trying to fight back tears. He circled an arm around his side, as if it could somehow lessen the pain in his chest. The firefighters around them tried to not stare too openly, but he could still feel their furtive glances. And he knew he looked like crap, and the wheezing sound of his breaths was not helping the impression. He saw Herrmann talking to Cindy, and the sight of the wheelchair she brought with her made him feel embarrassed again.

Capp and Boden returned from the nurse’s desk. “They are doing a scan to rule out spinal injury”, the squad man said. “It might take a while.”

There it was, that word again. As if destiny came to bite Kelly in the ass after all. Please, no. He has to be alright.

Casey zoned out during Boden’s short speech. It was clear the firefighters couldn’t all sit around here, they had a shift to finish. Otis approached him, shyly taking the seat on his other side. “It’s good to see you, Casey. Despite the… circumstances.”

Casey only managed a small acknowledging nod. He couldn’t think. He could barely breathe.

But Otis got up already, Truck being gathered up to leave by their lieutenant. “If there’s anything you need… Guess it must be quite boring, I could bring some video games if you want…”

He forced himself to give the young man a smile, mumbling a thanks. Otis squeezed his shoulder lightly before he left, as did Herrmann, promising to drop by after shift. Almost everybody was out when Boden took the seat Otis deserted.

“It’s going to take a while until we’ll know more. Why don’t you go back to your room, try to get some rest. I’ll make sure they let you know as soon as possible.”

As if he would be able to rest now. And Casey knew how busy hospital staff was, it was likely they’d just forget, and he would be left drowning in worry, pictures of Severide paralysed from the neck down haunting him like they did too many nights already ever since he learned about the nature of his injury. Not that he ever told anyone about it; it was his personal punishment for abandoning his friend when he’d needed him most.

He shook his head, too out of breath to talk. Boden’s hand settled on his knee, giving it a firm squeeze. “Shay and Dawson will stay. Take care of yourself, Casey.”

The chief left, and suddenly, Casey realised he wasn’t part of their world anymore. He was left at the sideline, a face from the past grazed in passing but already standing at the outside. It hurt more than he would like to admit, and he felt a chill run through his body. Someone wrapped the discarded blanket around his shoulders. Cindy.

“How about I bring you back up, Matt”, she said. Again, he just shook his head. As if by sitting here, he could somehow keep a hold on his old life.

“I’ll let you know as soon as there’s any news, promise”, Shay tried to reason. “No need to sit on these awful chairs if you have a bed upstairs.”

His hand cramped around the blanket. He was shaking, and not only from exhaustion.

Cindy rubbed his back. “Come on, Matt. You should lie down. And I think you’re overdue for your painkillers.” Now that she mentioned it, he realised his side was on fire.

Dawson appeared, carrying two paper mugs with coffee. Casey had barely taken notice of her before, though he figured she sure had watched him closely.

“Jesus, Casey, you should be in bed.” She handed one of the mugs to Shay, biting on her bottom lip. “I can sit with you for a while, if you want.”

It made him realise Cindy had spent enough of her time on him already. And he was exhausted, so much so he didn’t even care if Dawson sat with him or not, and he found himself nodding before he allowed Cindy to help him back into the wheelchair. Shay squeezed his hand tightly once more. “I’ll be up as soon as I hear anything”, she promised.

Cindy wheeled him to his room and helped him settle back in bed. Meghan stepped in just then, and after a quick check on his lungs put him on oxygen. It was a relief. She pushed his medication through the cannula still inserted on the back of his hand, and Matt welcomed the warm feeling flooding his veins, taking the edge off the pain.

Once Meghan was gone, Cindy tucked him in, making sure he was comfortable and warm. “I’d love to stay some more, but I have to pick up the kids, I’m sorry.”

Casey shot her a stern glare. “Don’t ever apologise for taking care of your children.” They were her first priority, just like they should. He would never accept her putting him before them.

She smiled and bent down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you soon. And I hope Severide will be okay.”

“Thanks for everything”, he mumbled. She rubbed over his arm before leaving.

Only then did he notice Dawson had accompanied them to the room and was now taking place in the chair beside the bed. He vaguely remembered having agreed to this, and even if he hadn’t, he was way too tired to start an argument. She smiled at him, an uncertain smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

His eyes wandered through the room, searching for Bugs. It was sitting on the nightstand, easily within his reach. But somehow, with Dawson in the room, he was reluctant to take it, her presence making him feel the need to pretend being – he didn’t even know, pretend something he wasn’t. And so, his hands clawed into the sheets instead, needing to hold onto something.

Dawson held her hands clasped between her knees, eyes flickering nervously around. She was uncomfortable, and that was somehow reassuring.

“So, erm… how are you doing?” she said eventually, a bit lamely. But well, they hadn’t spoken for months, what else was she supposed to say.

Casey shrugged. “I’ve been better.” What else was he supposed to say.

Dawson looked down for a moment. “I… I’m so sorry, Casey.” Her voice was raw. “About… this, that you’re so sick. You don’t deserve that.”

“I don’t think anyone deserves that”, he said flatly.

“No, of course, I…” She tried to smile; at the same time wiping a tear from her eyes. “Listen, Casey, I’m sorry about everything, about going to Voight behind your back. I hate how things have been between us ever since… But I was so afraid about Antonio, that they would get him killed after all, and going to Voight was the only option I saw. And he did know what to do.”

There it was again. Instead of apologising, she framed it as if she didn’t have another choice, and he had to understand that. And part of him did, but he wouldn’t jump through that hoop.

Casey looked at her, brows furrowed, eyes hardening. “Then why did it never occur to you to talk to me before you went to see him.”

“I…” She licked her lips, avoiding his gaze. “You might have asked me to not do it. I couldn’t risk that.”

At least she was being honest. He sighed. “Gabby. We’ve been friends. Would I have warned you to ask Voight for a favour? Certainly, since I know what he’s capable of first hand, and you don’t want to owe that man a favour. Would I have asked you to find another way? Probably. But in the end, I wasn’t the one to make that decision for you. And I might not have liked you deciding to go to him, but I would have respected it. But you talking to Voight behind my back? Told me that you don’t have a lot of respect for me.”

She gaped at him, totally dumbfounded. It took a moment before she found her voice again. “But… I… that’s… that’s not true. I’ve always respected you. I just thought it would be better to leave you out of it, not burden you with it all.”

He huffed. “Spare me that bullshit. You walked over me, simple as that. And I guess that’s okay, your brother being more important than me. Just do me a favour and don’t try to pretend you considered my feelings at all.” Just take responsibility for what you did. She had always been headstrong, one to walk through a wall headfirst, and never very humble when it came to analyse her actions. Casey wondered why he’d never seen it before, that self-righteousness she had about her. Maybe facing a potentially fatal illness does that for you, seeing more clearly and realising who was good for you and who wasn’t.

If only Severide was okay. What was taking them so long? Was it good, or bad, that he hadn’t heard anything yet? How much time had passed anyway?

Gabby bit on her lip, staring down at her hands. “I – I’m sorry, Casey. I fucked up.” She sniffed a little, wiping over her eyes again. “I… You always meant a lot to me. We used to be friends… can we… can we be that again?”

Casey closed his eyes briefly. He was tired. The worry for Severide was eating him up. There were a thousand things running through his mind, demanding attention. Dawson’s peace of mind wasn’t necessarily one of them.

“In all honesty – I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to deal with right now… something that requires all my energy. I need to focus on myself for now.”

Her mouth was pressed into a tight line, but she nodded, eventually.

“I really hope you’ll get well again.” She stood up, casting him a forced smile. Then she was gone.

He grabbed for Bugs and pressed it against his chest. Please, let Severide be alright. He has to be alright. And that was really all that mattered now.

Chapter Text

Matt’s mind was restless, but his body so exhausted he fell into a slumber nevertheless and soon found himself walking through aimless dreams. Walking through a desert storm with dust burning in his lungs, unable to breathe. He longed for the soothing taste of water. Longed for a breeze of fresh air. The sun was burning his fair skin, but there was no shadow, no shelter. He was alone, strolling through barren land, lonely and afraid. The wind grew stronger, and he wrapped his arms around his slim frame, as if he could shield himself from the harsh wind, protect himself from being blown away. Under his hands he felt every single rip, not an ounce of fat left between his bones and skin, and there gaped a hole in his right side where once part of his lung had been. The wind blew sand in the cavity, and it hurt, his breaths coming in strained wheezes.

“Sev”, he tried to call, throat raw and dry. “Sev, where are you? I need your help. Sev!”

The only answer he got was the echo of his own calls. But then, he suddenly stood in a house, a burning house, flames and smoke wafting over his head in a thick cloud. His lungs were burning, from the heat and the smoke, he couldn’t breathe, he could barely get a word out, and he wondered where his mask was, why the hell he’d taken it off. “Sev! Where are you? Kelly!” Debris fell on his uncovered head. He tried shielding himself with his arms, but he knew he was going to be burned alive, there was no way out. “Kelly! Help me please…”

He almost didn’t hear the faint sound of a voice answering through the roaring inferno of the flames.

“I can’t move.”

And then he saw him. Lying there, on the ground, whole body limp. Only his eyes were moving, desperately, searching for some kind of hold. “Matt, I can’t move.”

He knelt down beside him. Felt over his body, his legs, his arms, no tension in the muscle, barely muscle there anymore, just a useless hull, the only thing alive Kelly’s eyes that were wide and full of fear.

“We got to get you out of here.” He grabbed for Kelly’s shirt, hauling him up. Kelly couldn’t even hold up his head, it rolled uselessly from side to side.

“You got to run, Matt”, he mumbled.

“No. Not without you. I need you to come with me.” But Kelly’s limp body fell out of his hands, fell through the floor, and he screamed.

Next thing, he saw Kelly in a hospital bed, pale like the sheets, his body looking small and fragile. There was a tube going into his throat, and his chest was moving with the rhythm of the machine that was breathing for him. Casey heard faint voices in the background, doctors and nurses, talking about total paralysis and that there was no chance of improvement. He didn’t pay attention though, his eyes were locked with Kelly’s, those extraordinary blue eyes the only thing alive, trapped in a body that couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe on its own anymore. And he understood what those eyes were telling him, like he always had, and he knew he would do it, even though it tore his heart apart. He bent down and kissed Kelly’s lips, his cold unmoving lips, tears falling on Kelly’s pale face while his shaking hands disconnected the breathing machine from the tube.

Someone grabbed him, shook him. “What have you done?!” He couldn’t answer. He felt the ghost of Kelly’s lips against his, felt the tears that steadily streamed down his face, and other than that, he didn’t feel anything anymore. He thought about going home, taking the bottle with sleeping pills from the bathroom cabinet, and swallow them all. He thought about the cold grave he would be laid in, alone, and it didn’t matter at all. Nothing mattered. The world was empty and grey.

The shaking didn’t stop. Someone called his name, persistently. Casey. Matt. Matt!

He wanted to yell. Scream at them to leave him alone. He wanted to lie down beside Kelly to die. Because your own death, you’re only dying, but with the death of the others, you have to live. And he couldn’t do that, not anymore.

“Matt, come on, wake up.” The voice wouldn’t fall silent, filtering through from another world. A hand touched his face fleetingly. He blinked, looking up into a blurry face. The face smiled. As if there was anything to smile. Kelly’s name died on his lips.

“Kelly’s fine.”

It took a while for Casey’s brain to catch up, to shake off the remnants of a horrible dream. Shay was sitting on the edge of his bed, and she smiled. She wouldn’t smile if Kelly was dead.

“He’s… he’s okay?” His voice was scratchy, the image of Kelly’s limp body in a hospital bed still on the forefront of his mind. Tear tracks were drying on his cheeks. Casey pushed himself into a more upright position, wiping at his crusted eyes.

Shay handed him a washcloth. “He’s okay. Concussion, and some massive bruising, but no broken bones, no internal bleeding, no spinal injury. One lucky bastard.” She smiled, but Casey could now see the tears shimmering in her eyes, and it wasn’t hard to guess what kind of thoughts had been running through her mind. Briefly, Casey wondered if she ever had nightmares of the kind he had.

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. Tried to breathe the terrible images away. “Thank God.”

“They’re keeping him overnight for monitoring, which he is already complaining about. So, you see, no need to worry.” She squeezed his hand tightly.

“Thanks, Shay.” Casey attempted to swing his legs out of bed. Her surprisingly strong hand against his shoulder held him back.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?!”

“Seeing Severide.” Her words might have taken some weight off his shoulders, but words weren’t enough. He needed to lay his eyes on Severide, see with his own eyes he wasn’t that limp body from his nightmare.

Shay sternly pointed to the monitor beside his bed. “See that oxygen level? You’re not going anywhere, Casey.”

His brows knitted in annoyance. To hell with oxygen saturation. He needed to see Kelly. “I don’t care. I need to see him.” He tried to push her away.

For such a small figure, she really had surprising strength. Or maybe, he was just weaker than he was used to. Shay’s tone, however, was much more understanding when she said, “I know. And since I also know Kelly would only sneak away first chance he gets to see you, and it’ll probably end with both of you strolling through the corridors searching for each other while you should be in bed resting, my genius brain came up with a solution that will also spare the poor nurses responsible for you a lot of trouble. It took some negotiating, but thanks to my persuasive skills, they agreed to it eventually.”

“Shay, could you please not talk in riddles.”

She rolled her eyes. Obviously, he was slow in thinking. “You don’t have to go anywhere. Kelly’s coming to you. They should be here any minute.”

Casey’s eyes widened slightly, taking in the small room. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I know, it’s going to be a little crammed. But it’s only for one night, maybe two. And no bitching at each other, and don’t give the nurses any trouble, or that deal is over. Besides, if you two don’t behave, I’m sure the nurses are going to kill me, which means I’m going to kill you.”

Casey leant back against the pillow, a smile grazing his lips. “Thanks, Shay. You’re the best.”

“I know.” She got up and kissed his cheek. “I got to run. Stay put, you’ll see Kelly soon.”

They rolled Severide in on a bed, manoeuvring it so it stood only about five feet away from Casey’s. The squad lieutenant lay on his side, pillows against his back and hip, and Casey couldn’t help but stare, scanning him from head to toe. Was he really okay? Kelly cast him a smile, or more one of his wry grins. “Hey roomie.” Casey could see he was itching, but he stayed put until the nurses were finished setting him up. He was hooked up on an IV, but other than that, he looked rather normal, Casey concluded.

As soon as the nurses were gone, he swung his legs out of bed and walked the two steps over, oxygen be damned. “Are you okay?” He stood awkwardly before the bed, but Kelly took his hand and pulled him down, so he came to sit on the mattress.

“Bruised like hell, but I’m fine.” He grinned. “Obviously, my bones are made of steel.”

Casey didn’t feel like laughing. He clasped both his hands around Severide’s, holding it tightly. Needing to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, needing to feel the tension of his muscles. He let his hand wander up Kelly’s arm, he couldn’t help it, he needed to assure himself the other man felt nothing like that limp body from his dream.

“Everything still there”, Kelly chuckled. But then he had to notice the distress on Casey’s face, since his smile fell, and he carefully laid a hand against his cheek, turning his head so their eyes met. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Subconsciously, Matt leant into the touch, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “Kelly, I… I can’t lose you.” There was a quiver to his voice, tears burning behind his eyes.

“And you won’t.” Kelly brushed a thumb over his cheekbone. Who would have thought that those hands could be so tender.

“You can’t promise me that. You’re not made of steel, Kelly.”

“Matt.” Kelly pushed himself up, wincing a little at the movement. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He could see him, he could feel him, the warmth radiating off his skin. Could feel his breath against his face. And yet, all he could see was that lifeless figure in the white sheets, the lifeless figure from his dreams, a tube sticking out of his throat because he needed a machine to breathe for him.

Matt tried to stay strong, he did. But it was no good, he was trembling, and there was nothing he could do against it. He took his gaze away, lips pressed tightly together, desperately needing to keep his guard up. It was his only protection, the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Arms wrapped around him, pulling him against a strong chest, holding him in a warm safe cocoon. Matt let out a shuttering breath, resting his head against Kelly’s shoulder, allowing himself to just feel the rhythm of the other man’s breathing, the steady beating of his heart.

“You’re cold”, Kelly mumbled. Matt only shrugged. He always was lately.

“Maybe you should lie down.” The squad lieutenant didn’t ease his hold though, and Matt shook his head. He wasn’t done with feeling Kelly. Alive and breathing on his own and with all the strength in his arms.

Somehow, Kelly managed to pull him down with him, so they were both lying in Kelly’s bed, tightly wrapped around each other, and Matt’s last coherent thought was that the other man was surprisingly comfy before he drifted off into much needed sleep.

Kelly held Matt tightly, and not only because the bed was actually too small for two grown men, and he was afraid he might fall out. It felt good to hold him, good to feel his body pressed against his own, feel the beating of his heart against his chest, feel the soft wheeze of his breath against his neck. Matt was thin though, almost scaringly so, and Kelly wondered how long he had been sick and ignored it. How long he had been sick and alone, with no friends around who looked after him. And once more, Kelly felt terrible, for how he treated him, for his jealousy, for his anger and his inability to bite the bullet. The pounding headache from the concussion didn’t help to make him feel better, and with the massive bruising on his back even lying was painful. But for nothing in the world would he ask Matt to go back to his own bed, not when he was finally able to hold him, really hold him, and he realised all Shay had said was true, there was no more denying it.

He was in love with Matt Casey. Had been since the day he first laid his eyes on him.

And he knew he needed to tell him sooner rather than later, the last thing they needed another round of assumptions and miscommunication tearing them apart. His assumptions about Hallie were proof enough how raw his emotions were when it came to Matt. He needed to be honest and straightforward with him if he didn’t want his angry side to gain the upper hand again. But in all honesty, he had no idea if he was bold enough to ever tell him how he felt. Had no idea what he would do if Matt rejected him. His head was pounding too badly to think anyway, and he just pulled Matt closer, adamant to enjoy every second of having him in his arms, his back be damned. Looking into the other man’s too pale face, he wondered how it would feel to kiss his lips. Matt was sleeping though, and so, all Kelly did was carefully brush his knuckles over his cheek, rough stubble scratching against his skin, and he felt a small jolt running up his arm, confirmation to something he didn’t need confirmation for anymore. He pressed a fleeting kiss to Matt’s forehead before he allowed his own eyes to drift shut, the acknowledgement of long denied feelings letting something restless inside of him finally come to peace.

Chapter Text

Meghan made Casey go back to his own bed, claiming he needed the oxygen. A look at his sats told him she was right, and no matter how much he hated to admit it, he felt much better once he had the support via the nasal cannula again. Still, he felt a loss, the loss of Kelly’s arms, and he thought he felt the remnants of someone kissing his forehead, and he couldn’t tell if it was real or not, and it frustrated him, so much so a deep crease appeared between his brows. Severide was pouting about their separation a little, but he was rather groggy and fell asleep pretty fast again. Casey arranged himself on his left side, Bugs pressed against his chest, watching the other man sleep. And he thought about the range of emotions the squad lieutenant evoked in him, from a deep aching sadness to raging fury, something nobody else was able to, and he wondered what it meant.

Dinner was brought annoyingly early. Casey found himself only plucking at his food. Severide tried to make conversation, but he only gave monosyllabic answers, too deep in his thoughts, and eventually, the squad lieutenant gave up.

Before someone came to take the remnants away, Casey hid the pudding he hated so much under his pillow, keeping it for Severide who hadn’t eaten much either, the concussion probably making him nauseous. Administered with a new round of painkillers that made him drowsy, Casey drifted off into a restless slumber soon after.

Severide was sad that Casey had been told to go back to his own bed. Sure, he needed the oxygen, and it was probably better for him to have more space to rest properly, spare his right side. To him, it was obvious Casey was in quite some pain from the surgery site, even though he claimed he wasn’t. But Severide had liked holding the former truck lieutenant, so close like he’d never done before. It had felt good, better than anything else actually. Even if he had been a bit shocked about how thin Matt was, how he could feel his bones even through the sweater he was wearing. And once more, he wondered how long this had been going on, how long Casey had been sick without anyone noticing, and he realised it was a small wonder he had been diagnosed early enough for a try on curative therapy. A thought that disturbed Severide deeply, and he almost got up to pull Matt into his arms again.

Only his doubts held him back. What if Matt didn’t want to be held? He’d barely said a word during dinner, and afterwards, had lain down to sleep immediately. Maybe he didn’t like that they had brought Severide to his room. He had doubted it was such a good idea from the beginning, even if Shay insisted it was. Casey was a very private person, had always been, and it wasn’t hard to guess he wouldn’t be too comfortable with being seen at his weakest, with someone else in the room while he was attended to by nurses, needing help with everyday things. Severide also hadn’t forgotten Casey asked him to leave only two days ago. And to be honest, he had no idea how to deal with the unspoken feelings between them. How would Matt think about it all, would it freak him out? Were the signals he thought he got from him just his wishful thinking? Matt was a guy very reserved when it came to show his feelings, and he tended to withdraw rather than let someone get too close, too afraid to be hurt.

And hadn’t he hurt him loads this past year, Severide thought bitterly. Just because he couldn’t deal with his own feelings. He was such an idiot.

You need to talk, the voice in his head said, sounding a lot like Shay. Severide knew she was right.

If only he had the courage. If only the doubts weren’t so strong.

Concussion protocol provided for checks every few hours during the first twelve hours, and every time the nurse came to quickly wake Severide and see if he was responsive, Casey jerked up from his too light sleep. It was utterly exhausting, and by now he wished they’d put the squad lieutenant elsewhere. Part of him got annoyed that nobody asked him if he was okay with this at all. He knew Shay had meant well, and he’d been more than relieved to see Kelly safe and sound. But now, it was just disturbing, the night interrupted even worse than his days. He pulled the covers over his head and tried to block out all the sounds, but it was impossible. Didn’t help that the pain from the insertion site sparked up again. He could have another dose of painkillers, but his system wasn’t taking very well to them, and he had enough of being nauseous. And of being drowsy all the time, for that matter.

Somewhen between midnight and morning, when he’d restlessly changed position once again, Severide slipped out of his bed and padded over. “Matt? You okay?”

He huffed. Wasn’t it obvious? “Can’t sleep”, he mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Do you need anything? Painkillers?”

“No. Make me sick.” He wished for Severide to just leave him alone. It would make the pain of loneliness easier to bear.

Instead, his warm hand stroked shyly over his arm. It felt nice, and Casey didn’t dare move, not wanting it to stop.

“Want me to stay for a while?” A raw whisper, as if he was afraid of the answer. Casey felt himself nodding, still not opening his eyes. He skidded towards the window a bit, and the mattress dipped under Severide’s weight as he tried to make himself comfortable. Carefully, he wrapped an arm around Casey, holding him against his chest. “Okay like that?”

“M-hm.” He buried his face in the other man’s shirt, breathing his scent. It was strangely comforting. Severide brushed the hair from his forehead, a touch light like a feather. It made him shudder.

“Did you really think I slept with Heather?” He had no idea why the question blurted out of him. But once it had, he realised Severide’s unaccounted accusation still bothered him. The lack of trust it implicated Kelly had in him.

The other man was quiet for a moment, his grip on him slightly tightening. Casey shifted a little, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. It was hard to read in the dim light of the room, but Severide looked troubled.

“I – no, I didn’t. Not really.” Severide let out a shaky breath. “But to be honest – I didn’t know what to think. I mean, it was obvious she had stayed the night – and I, I don’t know, it kind of hurt, that she had that privilege. And I was wondering. What it meant.” He paused, then added, “I know Heather always had a crush on you. She told me, once, that if she wasn’t with Andy, she would hit on you. And there I was thinking what’s holding her back now.”

Now it was Casey who was quiet, fingers playing with the hem of Severide’s shirt. He laid his head back down to rest on his chest. “It hurt, you know. That you had so little trust in me.”

“I’m sorry. I was assuming too fast.”

“But worst of all, it hurt that you wouldn’t even hear me out. I couldn’t see a way how we could ever be friends again.” A tear rolled down his cheek, closely followed by another. And soon, it was a constant stream, dampening his face and Severide’s shirt with all the pent-up pain from months of bitter loneliness.

“I’m sorry.” Severide’s voice cracked, and he stroked over his back, his head, as if he could take some of the pain away, his own included. “I’m so sorry. I was a complete ass; I was hurting, and I wanted to make you hurt too… because I couldn’t… I thought I’d never… I was jealous, Matt, I wanted to be the one waking up at your place, I was afraid she would snatch you away, or someone else would, and all I could think about was if I couldn’t have you, it would be better to push you away than deal with that pain.”

He’s been in love with you for a very long time. And I honestly don’t know how you can’t see it, the way he looks at you. Shay’s words came back to his mind. And Casey slowly realised that Severide’s stammered words were the best version of I’m in love with you he could give him right now. Severide’s emotions were as raw and vulnerable as his own, and there was no way to tell where all of this would lead them.

There was just one thing he knew for sure, and he took Kelly’s hand and intertwined their fingers. “Please don’t ever push me away again”, he whispered hoarsely. “Don’t leave me behind.”

Kelly’s hand squeezed tightly. “I won’t, I promise. But I need you to do the same for me.”

“Promise.” He took a shaking breath, pulling their hands to where his heart was beating against his chest. They would be okay again. And with that certainty, he finally fell asleep.

Dr Garland was in early the next morning. He pulled a chair up besides Casey’s bed and sat down. “Matt, I would like to talk about the next steps of your treatment.” He cast a quick look at Severide, who sat on his bed, waiting for his discharge papers and for Shay who had promised to pick him up.

“It’s okay”, Casey mumbled, knowing Severide would squeeze him out like a lemon afterwards anyway and it was easier if he didn’t have to repeat everything.

“Alright then.” Dr Garland looked down at the chart in his hands. “With the results from the tests on your renal function, and considering your general sensitivity to medication, I’d want you to have your first cycle of chemotherapy in inpatient care, so we can monitor you closely and react accordingly if necessary.”

Casey had expected this, but still, his heart dropped. “How long?” he asked flatly. He wanted nothing but to go home, be in the familiarity and quiet of his own place.

“Three days, if there’s no complications”, Dr Garland said. “If everything goes well, you should be able to get the next cycle in outpatient care. But I’d like to take it one step at a time.”

Three days. Rationally, Casey knew that wasn’t long. But right now, it sounded like an eternity. And knowing his body, it was a safe bet to say he would react badly to the medication.

“When am I supposed to start?”

“Well, as I said before, we would like to start chemo around four weeks after surgery, depending on your recovery. I have set my sights on the first week of August, but I’d like to see you up and preferably gaining some weight until then.”

Only three weeks from now. Casey rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Can I go home now?”

Dr Garland cast him an understanding smile. “Dr Rhodes will decide on that. From how I understand him, he’d probably want to keep you for another few days. But he will be in later for an assessment.”

Casey tried very hard to not let his disappointment show. “Okay”, was all he said. Dr Garland talked a bit more, about how important it was he looked after himself, that he ate enough, and how he should pay attention to his fluid intake. He said they were working with a nutrition counsellor, and he’d set up an appointment with her where she would explain about a recommended diet for him, both in preparation for and during chemo. Casey kept appearances to be listening, but in reality, his mind was slowly wandering off. Off to his home, the little yard behind his house. How he was wasting the summer away in a hospital bed.

Severide’s eyes were on him when Dr Garland had left. “What was that about your renal function?” he asked, worry laced in his voice. Casey sighed.

“Long story”, he mumbled. “They got it handled, he said.”

“Matt, you’re telling me if something is off, alright?”

He lifted his head, locking eyes with Severide. “I’ve got lung cancer. I guess that means a lot is “off”, Kelly.” The squad lieutenant flinched a little at his clipped tone, and Casey thought he wouldn’t have needed to be so harsh. But he couldn’t help it either, he was pretty weighed down by it all.

“I know. I just – wanted to let you know I’m here if you need me.” Kelly sounded unsure, as if he was afraid to overstep.

“I know. And I appreciate it. It’s just – a lot, is all. And I really want to go home.”

Severide cast him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you can soon.”

“Yeah.” Only to be admitted a few weeks later again. Casey leant back against the cushions, closing his eyes.

Only when he woke up due to the sound of voices talking, he realised he had fallen asleep. How he was able to sleep so much, Casey didn’t know. He was used to need little sleep, always more awake than not. But he guessed that was part of his life that was over now.

“Hey.” Chief Boden greeted him with a smile. “I brought some fresh clothes. If you want to get changed, I can take these for a wash.”

Slowly, Casey pushed himself into a more upright position. “You don’t have to do this”, he mumbled.

“I know. I want to though.” The chief’s expression was earnest, and Casey nodded wearily.

“Thanks.” He noticed now that he was rather sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead and shirt to his back. He had to look and smell gross. It made him feel embarrassed again. He wanted a shower, badly, but he didn’t know if he could take one.

Severide was still there, now fully clothed, and obviously ready to go. He held his discharge papers in his hands, and Casey envied him. He wished he could go home too.

Shay came in, balancing a few cups of coffee. “Hey.” She smiled brightly at him. “I bribed the cafeteria lady to pimp yours with chocolate milk.” Carefully, she put one of the mugs on the tray beside his bed. Casey managed a small smile back.

“Thanks.” A coffee in the morning was the only resemblance to normalcy he had left. And as much as he appreciated everybody’s support, he felt that strong urge to be alone again.

Shay, as if she had a sixth sense, locked her eyes with Severide’s while she handed him his coffee. “Ready to go?”

The squad lieutenant nodded, casting a shy look at Casey though. He could see that he was reluctant to leave; and Casey was torn himself, part of him longing for the hold of his strong arms and there was still so much unsaid between them. But that was selfish; Severide needed to rest himself, and that he could do best at home, under Shay’s stern but loving supervision.

“I can come back later…”

“No. You need to rest. Don’t want to see you here before tomorrow afternoon.”

“Listen to the man.” Shay smiled, giving him a brief hug. “I’ll make sure he rests. Hold tight.”

Severide laid his hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. For a moment, it looked as if he considered kissing his forehead. But then he just smiled, his trademark grin with the tooth gap. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

When they were gone, Casey lay back against the cushions, casting a weary look at Boden. “Something tells me you have bad news for me.”

The chief pulled a chair up and sat down beside him. “Well, I’ve been at your place, checked the mail.” Right, he’d given him his keys. Just in case. “There was a letter from the insurance company – didn’t open it of course, so, it’s not necessarily bad news.” The frown on his face betrayed him.

“You think it is though.”

Boden sighed. “Let’s say, from my experience with insurance, it can be anything.” He pulled the letter out of the bag and handed it to Casey. “I think you should open it.”

Casey took the envelope, then, after a moment’s consideration, handed it back. “Can you take a look? Don’t think I can handle that now.” A few weeks ago, he’d never thought he’d ever admit something like that to his chief. Funny how things had changed.

“Alright.” Boden ripped the letter open. While he read through it, the frown on his face deepened, a cloud of anger building up over his head.

“It is bad news then”, Casey concluded, turning to the window. Of course, what else did he expect? Trust life to have him worry about paying hospital bills on top of everything.

“Not necessarily.” The chief put the letter back in the envelope. “It says they are “looking into” the application for coverage.” His gaze was still somehow sinister. “Which doesn’t mean they won’t cover it; though I think they should have approved right away, it’s clearly job-related. – But don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it. If you want me to, that is.”

He turned back to him, nodding. “Yes, I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”

Maybe accepting help from time to time wasn’t such a bad thing after all.