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Chapter Text

The city was still asleep when silence returned to fill the barracks.
The constant hum of the generators, the excited voices, the distant sirens, everything had died away with the last flush of water. Only the sound of the wind remained, coming in through the dormitory windows, carrying with it the acrid smell of smoke.

Kelly Severide wasn't sleeping, he wasn't even trying.

Since they returned he had remained sitting on the wooden bench outside the barracks with his jacket over his shoulders and his hands still stained with soot.

Before him, the sky was already changing color. Shades of orange and pink slowly emerged from the deep black of the night, like a wound trying to heal itself somehow.

The fire that night had been one of the worst.

An old four-story residential building had caught fire due to a short circuit and there were flames everywhere.

The firefighters at Barracks 51 had saved almost everyone, but that almost was enough to eat you up inside.

Severide closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
The smell of smoke took him back to the twenty-year-old boy behind the iron door, to Boden's face in the flames, to Hermann's voice shouting something, to the floor that was giving way... and once again he felt that lump in his throat that wouldn't dissolve.

- I'm going back inside - he had said, without thinking, but when they had pulled him out it was too late, there was nothing left to do for him.

Now that weight pressed on his chest like an invisible hand.

Stella found him sitting there for hours, staring into space. She didn't say anything, but sat down next to him, wrapped in her gray blanket. She touched his shoulder, a simple gesture, but enough to remind him he wasn't alone.

- Didn't you go to sleep? - he asked softly.

Kelly shook her head.
- No, I can't... every time I close my eyes... I go back in there.-

Stella didn't answer, she knew him too well.
He knew that silent anger, that guilt that gripped him even when he had done nothing wrong.

- You can't save everyone, Kelly. - he said in a gentle but firm voice.

- I know - he muttered. - but try telling that boy -

A Chicago Med ambulance passed not far from them, its siren breaking the silence for a moment and then the silence again, broken only by the chirping of the first birds.

The sky was now golden, and the light reflected off the windows of the barracks like liquid fire.

Mouch and Cruz were just coming out, cups of steaming coffee in their hands.

- Hey, Lieutenant, you want some fuel? - Cruz joked, but without much conviction.

Everyone had the same tired look, everyone had lost something that night.

Severide nodded vaguely, still not trusting his voice.

When the others returned, Stella stayed.

- You know what Will Halstead told me at Med? - he said after a moment - That sometimes, the mind tries to protect itself. It makes you relive what you can't accept, until you actually face it.

Kelly looked at her, then returned to staring at the horizon.

- What if I don't want to face it? -

- Then you will remain here, sitting still, while the world goes on. -

A bitter smile touched his lips. - Yeah, maybe that's what I deserve.-

Stella shook her head decisively.

-You deserve to live, Kelly, and to continue saving who you can. It's what you do best, it's who you are.. -

Those words hung in the air, stronger than the silence. Once he would have rejected them, but now something inside him changed, like ice cracking under the first rays of the sun.

After a long moment, he took a deep breath.
Kelly took a deep breath, feeling the lump in his throat loosen. The light breeze caressed his face, carrying the smell of bread from the nearby bakery, and for the first time in a while he could truly breathe.

The city was beginning to come back to life.

- You know - he said finally, - My father used to say that dawn is the most honest moment of the day. You can't hide from the past, but you can choose whether to face it or not.

Stella smiled slightly. «
- And what do you choose to do? -

Kelly thought for a moment, then stood up, adjusting her jacket. The pain wasn't gone, it wouldn't go away any time soon, but she finally felt she could carry it with her, without letting it crush her.

- I'm going to report to Boden,' he said, 'and then… I'll come home with you.-

She stood up in turn.
There was no hug, no extra words, just a little touch on the hand, as they crossed the yard together, their shoes crunching on the gravel.

The sun, now high, cast long shadows on the walls of the barracks.
Kelly turned one last time toward the horizon.
The dawn was full, and for the first time in a long time, Kelly felt that the weight was becoming bearable, as if the light of the new day had finally begun to melt the ice inside him.

Chapter Text

At Barrack 51, everything was strangely quiet. The trucks were stationary and the firefighters were stationary.
Everything seemed normal, but it wasn't quite like that, at least not for everyone.

Kelly Severide was… strange, silent, elusive, almost absent-minded.

Not that he was new to certain behaviors, but Stella usually understood him and that day she didn't.

- Hey - she said, leaning against the office doorframe as he arranged some papers. - Is everything okay, mysterious lieutenant? -

Kelly looked up, a half-smile that failed to fool her.
- All good, Stella, just a few things to fix..-

- You know when you say 'everything's fine' with that face it means everything's not fine? - she replied, crossing her arms

- Don't worry, everything's really okay.-
And with that sentence and a quick kiss on the cheek he dismissed her.

Stella watched him walk away down the corridor. Her instincts told her there was something he wasn't telling her. Maybe it was a problem with the team, or something personal... maybe a surprise...

No, Kelly was too quiet for that last one too.

Brett joined her with two coffees in his hands.
- You have that 'Kelly is hiding something from me' look on your face.’.-

- Yes because Kelly is hiding something from me.-

- Maybe it's a romantic surprise. Men like him behave like this before making a dramatic gesture. -

Stella laughed softly.
- Him? A dramatic gesture? - he said, then thinking about how they had met -
Mmh....maybe.-

Meanwhile, Kelly was really busy, but not in the way Stella imagined.
Sitting in his office, with the door closed, he was talking on the phone.

- Two seats for tonight... at 8:00 PM, yes, perfect. I'd like the table by the window, and please, the roses arrive by 7:30 PM. Red and white, in the name of Severide. -

Once he hung up, satisfied, he headed towards the lockers.
He opened his and checked the small black case once again. Inside, there was a silver bracelet engraved:

- To the woman who keeps me balanced.- while from a distance Cruz watched him smiling.

Severide had thought of everything. The dinner, the music, even a bottle of wine they'd shared on their first date.
It was their first real night of celebration without alarms, emergencies, or phone calls in the middle of the night—or at least, that's what she hoped it would be.

He looked at his watch: 6:50 PM. Only ten minutes left until his shift was over.

He straightened the jacket of the suit he had rented and closed the locker, turning to Cruz, who was joking with Capp and Tony.

- Guys, don't call me tonight. I have the evening free, okay??-

- Free night or night with Kidd? -  Cruz asked with a smirk.

Kelly laughed.
- Both.-

The sound of the siren cut the air like a blade.

"Fourth-degree fire at a residential complex on South Green Street. All units are operational.!”

Boden appeared from his office, his voice firm but urgent.
- Truck 81, Squad 3, Fire Engine 51, Ambulance 61... let's move!

Kelly and Stella exchanged a quick glance and then in less than a minute everyone was on their vehicles ready to go.

- Truck 81 on the move! -  Casey shouted into the radio.

- Team 3 follows!- Kelly replied, as Cruz, Capp and Tony prepared for action.

When they arrived on the scene, the building looked like a torch, the flames were high, the glass was shattered, and many screams could be heard.

Boden valutò la scena in pochi secondi.
- Truck 81, level three and four, team 3, take the rear. The fire engine provides water coverage. Ambulance 61, triage position.

Kelly put on the mask, feeling the heat already burning on her skin. - Let's go!-

Cruz broke down a door, Capp and Tony following. The smoke was so thick it took your breath away. Kelly led the team with precise, instinctive movements.

On the other side, Stella and Casey were helping two civilians down the stairs.

- There's a child trapped in apartment 3B! - a woman screamed, coughing.

- I'll take care of it! - Stella replied, climbing up without hesitation.

Casey followed her for a few meters, but the ceiling collapsed behind them, separating them.. - Kidd! Go right, I'll take the side corridor! -

- Received! - she replied

Kelly heard the pop and crackle of the fire changing tone and knew something was wrong.

- Cruz! Tony! Watch out for the ceiling, I hear noises of it collapsing.! -

As he moved forward, he glimpsed Stella on the other side, through a wall of smoke, with a child in her arms.

- Stella! -

She turned, her eyes wide and alert behind her visor..

The woman only had time to nod to him before the ceiling between them suddenly collapsed.

Kelly instinctively lunged forward, trying to reach it, but a piece of the material it was made of fell right on top of him.

Kelly felt a sharp pain in her shoulder.

- Kelly! - Stella screamed.

Her voice reached him, but it was as if far away, distorted by the noise.

Cruz grabbed him by the jacket and dragged him back, moving various debris.

- Lieutenant! We have to go out now. ! -

- There are still people in here! -  Kelly coughed, trying to get up and pull herself together.

Boden from the radio:
- Team 3, get out immediately! The building is collapsing! -

Kelly managed to drag an injured man to the exit, despite the pain, and then fell to his knees on the sidewalk, coughing.

Behind him, Casey and Stella emerged with the baby, unharmed but covered in soot.

Ten minutes later, the building completely collapsed. The flames shone in Stella's eyes as she approached the ambulance where Kelly was being treated.

- Low oxygen level, shoulder bruise - Brett told his fellow paramedics.

- Take him to the Med,-  Boden ordered.

- I'm coming with him,- Stella said without hesitation, getting a nod of agreement from the chief.

Kelly looked at her, tired but lucid.
- Hey… I'm fine.-

- Shut up -  she hissed, her hands squeezing his. - You risked your life, again -

He gave a half smile. - Because you were still inside.-

Stella closed her eyes, holding back tears.. - You're an idiot.-

- Yeah, but your idiot, right? -

Kidd couldn't help but smile, standing there with shaking hands.

At Chicago Med, night had fallen. Kelly was resting on a bed, her shoulder bandaged and wearing a monitoring cuff.

In the semi-dark room, the only noise was the regular beeping of the machine.
Outside, the city was still filled with smoke and sirens.

Stella was there, next to him, still wearing her blackened jacket, holding her hand in his.
She watched him sleeping with his hair disheveled, his eyelashes stained with soot, and thought how close he was to losing it every time..

When he woke up, he found her like this: sitting up, tired, but beautiful.

- Hey -  he muttered in a hoarse voice.

- Hey.- he replied

- I had prepared a perfect evening,-  he said softly. - It was supposed to be a surprise... Dinner, flowers, music... even a gift.-

She smiled bitterly.
- Yes? Where did it all go? -

Kelly reached for the nightstand. Cruz, passing by, had left him the small box he'd retrieved from his locker and handed it to him.

Stella opened it, and inside, the bracelet glistened in the cold light of the room. She read the engraved sentence, and tears began to flow from her eyes.

- To the woman who keeps me balanced. You're incredible, Severide.. -

He smiled softly.
- You're the one who keeps me standing, Stella, even when everything falls apart.-

She leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead.
- So let's make a deal. -

- Which? -

- Next time you plan a perfect night out… don't save half of Chicago before dinner..-

Kelly laughed, coughing slightly.
- I'll try.-

- Promised? -

- Promised. -

In the silence of the room, the two allowed themselves a moment of peace.

It wasn't the night they'd imagined, but it was imperfect, alive, real, and for Kelly Severide, that was enough.

Chapter Text

The crackling of the flames was everywhere, like a living, infernal breath that engulfed every corner of the house..

Kelly ran through the heat-warped corridors, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath short, smoke filling his throat, and his eyes watering.

- Stella! Casey! - he screamed, as each step seemed to bring him closer to a pile of debris, ash and burning beams.

Matt was there, a few meters away from him, trapped under a beam that had fallen from the roof..

Severide tried to lift it, but the wood was burning and the dwarves were burning him, leaving scales on his skin and a sharp pain.

Stella was just behind the captain. She was trying to free herself, also among the debris, but the smoke was making it impossible for her to breathe.

Kelly ran as close as he could, trying to squeeze through the flames and the burning parts of the house.

Every second, for the lieutenant, seemed to last an eternity, panic overwhelmed him and the sense of helplessness brought tears to his eyes.

The flames forced Severide back and then hands grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him out, forcing him out of the chaos.

His chest hurt, every breath was a punch in the stomach..

Guilt crushed him: he alone had survived. Physical and psychological pain were intertwined in a tight, unbreakable knot.

The acrid smell of burning remained imprinted in every fiber of his body..
He had failed and was left completely alone. Every beat of his heart was a jolt of realization: Stella and Casey were gone, engulfed in flames, and he had been unable to save them.

Kelly woke up with a start.
His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst through his chest. His throat was dry, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his hands shook uncontrollably on the sweat-soaked sheet. Every muscle in his body was tense and aching, as if he'd been running for miles. His lungs burned with every labored breath, while a shiver ran down his spine.

For a moment he couldn't figure out where he was, he couldn't see Stella at his side, and panic gripped him again.

"What if it was all real?"

He sat on the bed, his hands still shaking as they touched the wet sheet, his temples pounding in unison with his heart, and every breath a vivid reminder of what he had just experienced, or thought he had experienced.

Every fiber of his body was tense, as if still waiting for the order to flee the flames, while his mind crowded with images: Casey trapped, Stella screaming, the fire swallowing everything..

A tight knot gripped his chest. He continued to believe it could all be real, the guilt gnawing at his ribs.

How could he have survived while they…?

Every heartbeat reminded him of the absence, the loss, and the loneliness crushed him. He took a deep breath, trying to find air, but each breath seemed insufficient to banish the memory of panic.

Then, like a fragile but firm thread, the smell of home reached his nostrils. Freshly brewed coffee, the crackling wood burning in the fireplace, a hint of Stella's perfume.

Everything was familiar, and for a moment, a small relief crept between the pain and fear. The house was intact, Stella was there, and she was… alive..

Reality slowly replaced the nightmare, but the weight of the dream continued to weigh on his chest.

Severide realized how vulnerable he was, how the thought of losing someone he loved could tear him apart from within..

He put his hands to his face, trying to push away the images he'd seen, searching for a sense of control he didn't yet have. Every fiber of his body recalled the tension, every muscle the tremor, every breath the fear. Yet, amid the invisible tears and the sweat trickling down his back, he began to feel a thread of gratitude: to be there, awake, at home, among the people who truly matter.

Each breath slowed, his heartbeat more regular. He was still shocked, but the presence of the house, the familiar sounds, the smells he loved, gave him a foothold.

He rose slowly, still shaking, and walked unsteadily toward the kitchen. Every movement seemed to require enormous effort, as if his body would not obey.

Stella was there, busy cooking something. The smell of toast and coffee filled the air.

Without thinking, Kelly hugged her from behind, holding her tightly. She felt her heartbeat slow slightly, the panic slowly beginning to melt away.

- There's nothing better than the smell of home, - he said in a small voice, - especially if you're there.-

Stella turned slightly, raising an eyebrow.

- Kelly… you're weird this morning. Are you feeling okay?- she asked him

- Eh… yes, yes… I'm fine… just… I'm happy to be at home, with you,-  he replied, trying to laugh lightly, but his voice betrayed him, still coming out a little shaky.

- Really?- Stella insisted, tilting her head, with a curious and worried look..

- Really! -  said Kelly, taking a deep breath of the smell of coffee and wood. - Nothing… nothing in the world is like this feeling. -

Stella watched him for a moment longer, feeling the tension but also the gratitude and relief in his eyes. She couldn't understand what had troubled him, but she knew he was there, present and close. And for now, that was enough.

Kelly pulled away slightly, still feeling Stella's hands in his. He stayed like that for a moment, closing his eyes and savoring the security of being home, among the people he cared about, with their scent reminding him that, despite the fear, there was always a refuge to return to. Every breath became a small act of calm, every heartbeat a reminder of survival, of affection, and of what he still had.

Chapter Text

Black smoke crawled along the walls of the house, thick and acrid, as the firefighters ran through the burning rooms.

Their shift was almost over when they received the call: a fire had broken out in a two-story house, and a family was trapped inside.

When Truck 51 arrived, no one had come out yet. Inside were the mother and her three children: a 16-year-old boy, an 8-year-old girl, and a 4-year-old little girl.

At that moment, each of them was in a different part of the house, trying to do something.

Only the father was missing; he was still at work but had immediately left to return home after being alerted by the neighbors.

Truck 81 and Squad 3 didn’t waste a second. They entered the house, immediately starting the search for the trapped people. The squad took the ground floor, while the truck tackled the second floor.

Every breath was a punch to the lungs, every step a calculation between fear and instinct. Everyone was focused on the search, but moving through the thick smoke and flames was far from easy.

Severide and his team had almost cleared part of the floor when a message from Casey echoed over the radio.

"There are victims on the second floor, we need support."

All four victims were on the upper floor, more or less trapped.

Time was ruthless, and they had to move fast.

Hearing the call, Kelly ran upstairs to assist the others, leaving his team to finish checking the lower floor.

As soon as he reached the upper floor, the lieutenant saw Casey on the right, working with Mouch and Gallo to move debris.

- We’ve got it under control, go to the other side, – Matt said, pointing to the opposite side of the floor.

Kelly advanced through the smoke, searching for the other victims, when he noticed Stella dragging an unconscious little girl out. That’s when the lieutenant saw the beam about to collapse over her head.

He called Kidd several times, but she didn’t hear him, focused as she was on helping the victim.

She had her back turned, unaware of the imminent danger. That unstable, threatening beam was about to fall right on her.

Without a second thought, Severide moved, putting his body between her and the falling beam, feeling the impact explode across his side and shoulder. It wasn’t a serious injury, but enough to make every muscle tense.

Casey appeared at that moment beside him, having left the victim with the other two.

He was worried about his colleague and friend. After moving the beam, he helped Kelly regain his balance.

- Kelly, are you okay? – he asked.

- I’m… fine, – Kelly replied, gritting his teeth.

Stella carried the little girl out, and Casey came out a few minutes later with the oldest son.

One by one, all the firefighters exited the house, which had now become unstable. The only one missing was Severide.

Casey was about to go back in, but Boden stopped him; he couldn’t risk his men being in danger. The chief then grabbed the radio and tried to communicate with Kelly to get him out.

Following his colleagues, the lieutenant noticed something in the corner of the hallway. A little girl was curled up, scared, in a corner not yet reached by the flames.

Without hesitation, he turned and went toward her, not even warning the others.

Ignoring the pain, he picked her up, holding her close.

Outside, Stella watched the house begin to collapse, heart pounding, unable to see her husband emerge.

It took several minutes, but eventually she saw him coming through the smoke, holding the little girl tightly.

The return to the firehouse was slow; everyone was tired but relieved, because despite the exhaustion, everyone was more or less okay.

Once back, Kelly headed to the showers for a hot shower before going home after their shift ended. Every movement felt like torture. Every muscle reminded him of the blow he had taken, every breath reminded him of how far he had pushed his body—but he was alive, and Stella was safe.

Once home, tension erupted like a long fuse.

- Kelly, you’re reckless! – Stella shouted, her voice trembling with anger and fear. – I can’t live in constant fear of losing you because of your impulsiveness… our work keeps us on alert already, but these stunts… I won’t accept them!

Kelly tried to smile, but the pain in his shoulder and side was too strong. He looked at Stella, who had begun preparing dinner.

- I’m… not hungry, – he murmured, and she looked at him with eyes full of concern and sighed.

- You should sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll take the bed, – she said.

Kelly collapsed onto the couch, trying to find a less painful position. Every movement was a small torment, every breath a reminder of the flames and the impact he had taken. The couch wasn’t comfortable, but it was the only place he could let himself fall without feeling useless.

Later, as she was about to go to bed, Stella’s phone rang. It was Casey.

- Stella, where’s Kelly? I tried calling him, but he isn’t answering, – he said.

- He’s here… – she replied simply, surprised by the concern in the captain’s voice.

- Stella… how’s Kelly? – he asked after a pause.

Understanding that she didn’t know, Casey explained about the lieutenant’s injury and how he had hurt himself protecting her.

Stella felt a knot in her stomach. After hanging up, she approached the couch. Looking more closely at her husband, she noticed the bruises on his shoulder and side, the pain etched into his features.

Guilt tightened her chest: she hadn’t seen anything before, hadn’t realized how much sacrifice he had endured.

She sat beside him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

She tried to wake him, but couldn’t, deciding instead to ease his rest.

She watched him breathe, and in doing so, she didn’t see a fragile man, but a man who was courageous to the extreme, impulsive and stubborn, who put others before himself, who faced pain and danger with a naturalness few could understand.

Sitting there, Stella realized how extraordinary he was: not invincible, certainly, but his strength came from fierce determination and a heart willing to sacrifice without hesitation. He was human, vulnerable, but no less heroic for it.

The night’s silence deepened. Kelly, on the couch, tried to ignore the pain, breathing slowly in sleep. Stella watched him, a mixture of anger at herself, fear, and gratitude pressing on her chest.

The soft lamp light made his face pale and marked by pain, and Stella, despite everything, felt an irresistible urge: to protect him, the man who had spent his life protecting others. She placed a pillow under his shoulder and another under his side, making the couch more comfortable, more secure, at least for that moment, covering him with a warm blanket.

Kelly moved slightly, a soft groan of pain, but said nothing, didn’t wake.

Stella smiled bitterly: she couldn’t change the way he was, but she could stay by his side, trying to ease the pain he carried.

And as the night went on, Kelly slept on the couch, and Stella remained beside him, watching, adjusting, protecting the man who, with all his impulsive, stubborn, and brave nature, had chosen to put her and others before himself.

Chapter Text

The alarm had gone off almost routine by now: a domestic fire in a second-floor apartment, reported by the neighbors.

It looked small, easy to handle, yet every single time Kelly Severide showed up with that same tension just under his skin, ready to react to anything unexpected.

The smoke was light, the scent of burning mixing with that of the controlled flames. His helmet pressed against his forehead, and his breath came warm through the respirator.

- Okay, team, let’s move fast check every room and we’re out,- he said, voice steady and without a hint of hesitation.

Stella Kidd was right beside him, mask in place, eyes sharp.

- Seems simple enough, but let’s not underestimate anything,- she replied calmly.

Inside, everything was wrapped in flames licking at the walls near the entryway.

Kelly didn’t stop; they had to move forward and make sure no one was inside before letting the engine crew take over to extinguish the fire.

The living room door was closed. Kelly reached out to open it with a motion so practiced it was almost automatic. But the moment he did, a sudden burst of flame shot out from the room, wrapping part of his right arm in dry, searing heat.

He felt his skin burn beneath the gear, an intense sting that locked his muscles for an instant but his expression didn’t change. No cry, no flinch. He only drew his arm back a fraction and went on leading the team, quickly signaling what to do next.

- Kelly, your arm! - Stella shouted, alarmed, but he just gave a small shrug.

- I’m fine. Just... a bit of heat - he said, voice firm and steady, the mask hiding the brief grimace that crossed his face.

The burn kept throbbing under his skin, but Kelly didn’t say a word. He continued directing the crew, checking that everyone was safe, giving precise, clipped orders. Every movement was controlled. No one would have guessed how badly his arm was burning.

Back at the station, the atmosphere shifted the adrenaline faded, and the burn began to make itself known. Severide headed toward the lockers, peeling off the still-warm turnout gear. His teammates joked and laughed, letting off steam, and he joined in with a quick, careful smile, keeping up the illusion that everything was fine.

But Stella watched him closely. She noticed the redness on his arm showing through the sleeve, the slight stiffness in his movements. She stepped toward him, keeping her tone even so as not to draw attention.

- Kelly, - she said quietly but firmly, - stop for a second. -

He shrugged, forcing a tight smile.
- No need, Stella. It’s nothing just a little heat that got through the suit. Nothing serious.-

She didn’t buy it.
- I can see you’re in pain. Don’t play tough with me.-

Kelly sighed softly, still keeping that composed front.
- I’m fine, really. Just... a little burn. It’ll pass.-

But Stella was already ready—she had a damp, cool cloth folded in her hand.
With a gentle motion, she lifted his sleeve and pressed the cloth against the burned skin on his arm.

Relief came instantly, a sharp contrast to the pulsing heat he’d felt until then.

Severide inhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment as the cool soaked into his reddened skin.

- Ah...- was all he managed to say. It wasn’t weakness—just an unspoken acknowledgment of how much he’d needed that.

Stella stayed there, steady, respectful of his space, feeling his muscles slowly relax beneath her hand.

- You’re more hurt than you think, Kelly, - she said softly, no accusation in her tone, only care.

He opened one eye, looking at her sideways.
- I’m fine... really,- he murmured, still dry-voiced. But the shadow of vulnerability he’d been hiding was clear now. His breathing steadied, his jaw unclenched.

The cool cloth kept working its quiet magic, and Kelly allowed himself a rare moment to let someone else take care of him without masking the pain or discomfort. The burning eased, the throbbing dulled, his arm grew lighter.

- Not so bad, huh? - Stella said with a small smile. “A little relief, finally.”

- Yeah... - he admitted, the word carrying a hint of disbelief, as if he wasn’t used to accepting gestures like that.

They stayed like that for a moment, the cloth still on his arm, silence filling the space between them. No unnecessary words just presence, attention. Kelly drew a deep breath, feeling that it wasn’t only the burn being soothed; even the tension from the fire seemed to ease a little.

- Thanks, - he said at last, more to himself than to her, a small smile reaching his eyes. Stella nodded, needing no further words. The silence said enough.

Kelly lowered his sleeve slowly, the cloth still in Stella’s hands, ready if he needed it again. The pain hadn’t vanished completely, but now it was manageable. The façade of control was no longer necessary for once, he could allow himself to feel human, hurt and cared for at the same time.

When they finally stood up to put away their gear, Kelly felt strangely light. The day that had begun with flames and burns ended with a quiet act of care and understanding. A simple gesture, yet powerful: a cool cloth, a gentle touch, and the chance to lower his guard if only for a moment.

- Ready for the next call? - Stella asked, teasing but sincere.

Kelly chuckled softly, moving his arm without stiffness.
- Yeah... but maybe next time, a cool cloth before the call wouldn’t hurt,- he said, with the most genuine smile he’d had all day.

And as they left the room, Kelly realized that sometimes, small gestures—silent care—could be as strong as any rescue: easing the pain, lightening the weight, and reminding him that even the strongest deserve to be cared for.

-

Chapter Text

Afternoon light filtered through the small attic window, casting golden streaks on the dusty wooden planks. The air was heavy with the smell of old paper, forgotten fabric, and a faint hint of mold.
Kelly's every step raised a small cloud of dust, and the sound of boxes being moved echoed among the low beams. Stella was already laughing as she tried to lift a trunk that seemed too heavy for two people.

- Don't complain, Severide! If you need another chance to train, here it is! - Stella said, holding back a laugh as she pushed the trunk toward him.

Kelly sighed, but a hidden smile appeared on her face..
- Don't laugh, please, if this trunk crushes me, who will be responsible? -

Stella laughed heartily, and in that moment the attic seemed a world apart, far from the fire, the wounded, and the incessant calls from the barracks. Laughing and joking, they moved boxes, trunks, and old furniture, discovering dusty books, forgotten toys, and faded photographs. Each object was a small window into the past, and for a while the attic became their private refuge, a place where everyday life and lightheartedness mingled with distant memories.

After a while, Stella went off to prepare lunch, leaving Kelly alone.

- Don't go crazy here without me,- he called from the stairs.

- I'll try not to drop any boxes! - he replied, but his voice sounded emptier without his chattering companion.

When Stella disappeared from view, Kelly returned to sorting out the old boxes. She lifted and moved, opened and closed lids, each gesture a small, almost meditative ritual.

The only sound was his breathing, mixed with the rustling of paper and the creaking of the floorboards under his feet. But as the work continued, the solitude of the attic brought him back to deeper thoughts, the ones he always tried to keep at bay.

She thought of Shay, her best friend, her colleague, the partner in the surgeries they'd faced side by side during the most difficult days. A constant presence who, suddenly, was no longer there.

Shay's death had been swift, an accident during surgery: no one could have predicted it, yet the pain for Kelly remained like a heavy shadow, an ever-open wound.

As he moved a trunk full of old documents and uniforms, something caught his eye. A yellowed envelope, tucked between some folders. The handwriting was familiar to him even before he read it: the precise, gentle cursive, Shay's.

His heart leaped in his chest. With trembling hands, he pulled it out, touching the rough surface of the paper.

- Shay...? - he whispered, incredulous, as if saying her name could make her real..

She opened the envelope and found a carefully folded letter. Each fold seemed to tell a story, each stain of time a fragment of a shared life. Trembling slightly, she began to read:

"If you're reading this, it means I'm gone. And I know how much you miss me. I want you to know some things, things I've never said enough, even though I've always meant them. You are special, Kelly Severide. Not just for what you do as a firefighter, but for the person you are.
You are strong, loyal, courageous... and incredibly human. And yes, even when you don't realize it, you inspire those around you. I want you to remember that I love you, and that my faith in you will never end, even if I'm no longer here to tell you in person.

As he read, his eyes watered. Tears streamed down his face before he even realized it. Every word resonated like a blow, an echo of the past that would never stop hurting. He continued reading, sobbing, feeling Shay close to him only through those words:

"Don't be afraid of feeling pain. I know my job is dangerous, and maybe it's normal to think something might happen. But I want you to live without regrets, without guilt, and to face each day with the same heart you've always had. Please, remember to laugh, even when it seems impossible. And if you ever feel like you're missing something... remember that I was happy to have you as a friend. Always."

Kelly collapsed to the floor among the boxes. The letter slipped from his hands and fell beside him. The tears were uncontrollable, deep sobs that tore at his chest. All the pain accumulated over the years, all the repressed emotions, exploded in that moment. The memory of Shay, her voice, her smile, everything became tangible, as if the attic had transformed into a sacred place of memory and loss.

- I can't... I can't believe it...- singhiozzò, le parole spezzate dalla disperazione.

From below, shortly after, Stella's voice reached him..

- Kelly? Everything's ready, come eat.! - She called, but he couldn't answer. Every attempt at words was lost in his tears..

Worried, Stella climbed the attic stairs. She found him huddled among boxes and old blankets, his face wet with tears.

Without saying a word, she wrapped him in a tight embrace, letting him cry. Kelly let go completely, resting her head on his chest, feeling Stella's reassuring, steady heartbeat like an anchor in the stormy sea of grief.

After a few minutes, the pain began to ease. Kelly sat up slightly, still shaking but able to breathe easier.

With a broken voice, he said, showing her the paper he had in his hand:

- It was... it's a letter from Shay... she wrote it... before... before she left. She wanted me to read it in case anything happened to her..-

Stella looked into his eyes, her face full of empathy.
- It's okay, Kelly, it's okay... You can cry all you want if you feel the need... I'm here.-

They talked for a long time, Kelly recounting the fondest memories with Shay, the shared adventures, the laughter during surgeries, the moments of fear and mutual comfort. Stella listened, sometimes interrupting him with small words of comfort, other times letting him talk until he was exhausted, as if the silence were an equally powerful embrace.

When the tears finally began to subside, Kelly picked up the letter and placed it in a small attic drawer, next to a photograph of him and Shay smiling side by side. A simple gesture, yet one charged with meaning: a way to keep Shay's memory alive without allowing the grief to consume him.

Stella took him by the hand and led him down the stairs.
- Let's go to lunch - he said, with a kind smile.

Severide nodded, walking beside her, still shaking a little, but feeling lighter. The pain was still there, present and vivid, but shared. And for the first time in years, he felt he could live on, carrying Shay's friendship and Stella's closeness with him.

As they walked away from the attic, Kelly took one last look at the light filtering through the window. A light that almost seemed to smile, as if reminding him that, even in the greatest pain, there was room for memory, for love, and for the life that still awaited him.

Chapter Text

The heat was suffocating, the smoke thick and acrid filling his lungs. Kelly Severide crawled through the hallway, heart hammering, mind locked on saving the family trapped upstairs.

Every step was a fragile balance between caution and impulse; every breath a burning ache that forced him to hunch forward.

The ceiling creaked above his head—a sinister sound that warned of the worst.

Severide pushed forward through the smoke-filled corridor, flashlight in one hand.

“Capp, Cruz, with me. We need to reach the last bedroom. The family’s in there!” he shouted.

Just as they approached the next room, the world collapsed around him.
A crackling noise, a deafening thud… a beam broke loose from the burning ceiling.

Kelly saw it only a moment before it hit him. He didn’t have time to dodge.

The beam slammed into his left side and part of his shoulder, knocking him violently to the ground. His breath vanished, pain exploding through his chest as if something inside had snapped. He lost his bearings for a second; his helmet hit the blackened tiles and the world spun.

“Lieutenant!” Cruz rushed to him, kneeling. “Kelly! Can you hear me?”

Severide raised a trembling hand.

“I’m fine… I’m fine…” he coughed, though it sounded more like a groan. He tried to stand, bracing against the wall once the beam was moved. Every movement sent a sharp burn through his side, and his breaths came short and ragged.

Capp gave him a dark look.
“Boss, you don’t look fine at all.”

“I said I’m fine,” he repeated, voice low, hard, stubborn.

He straightened, and the world swayed for a moment.

There was no time to lose: they located the family, still locked in the bathroom to escape the smoke.

Kelly led the way out, but his pace was slow—slower than usual. Every time he lifted someone, he clenched his teeth so hard his jaw trembled.

Cruz kept watching him, worry etched across his face.

Once they had carried out the last person, Kelly turned to go back inside.
Capp grabbed his shoulder.

“No. You’re staying out now.”

“I’m—”

Another stab of pain hit him, so sharp he staggered.
His breath vanished; his legs buckled slightly.

Cruz caught him.
“Come on, man, you’re in no condition to go back in.”

This time Severide didn’t fight it. He couldn’t.

The contrast between the fire’s heat and the cold outside made him tremble. Shay and Dawson were already waiting near the ambulance.

“Kelly?” Shay rushed to him. When she saw the hand pressed tightly to his side and his short, uneven breaths, she said, “Sit. Now.”

He tried to speak, but a cough doubled him over, one hand pressed to his chest as if to keep it from falling apart.

“Chest pain?” Dawson asked as they helped him into the ambulance.

“It’s… nothing…” Severide managed, but another sharp wave shot from his ribs to his back, stealing his breath.

His face paled. His fingers trembled.

Shay took one look and made the call instantly.

“Chicago Med. Now.”

The ambulance sped forward and Kelly closed his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it, but something was very wrong this time.

At the hospital, as soon as the doors opened, Severide tried to get up, insisting on walking on his own, but Shay stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

“To work… it’s just a hit,” he rasped stubbornly.

“Kelly, you can barely stand,” Shay reasoned.

“I’m fine.”

He got down anyway—or tried. He managed two unsteady steps before stopping, hand against the wall to keep from collapsing. His vision blurred; a ringing filled his ears.

Shay got out after him and grabbed his arm.
“Stop trying to be a hero, please.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but another violent stab of pain froze him. His chest contracted with a sharp, piercing agony that forced him to bend over.

“Kelly?”

He didn’t respond.
His head spun, the ground tilted—and then everything went black.

When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was the white ceiling of the observation room. The second was Shay, sitting beside the bed, her gaze tense but relieved.

“Finally decided to come back to us?”

Kelly blinked a few times. “What… what happened?”

“You passed out. Right here, in front of the ER.”

Before he could reply, Will Halstead came in with a chart.

“Good to see you awake.”

Kelly tried to sit up, but a searing pain forced him back down. Will shook his head.

“Don’t move, Severide. I mean it.”

“I’m fine.”
The words escaped out of habit.

Shay sighed loudly.
Will stayed serious.

“We ran some tests while you were out.”

He flipped the scans and showed them. The image was clear.

“You’ve got a severe rib contusion, a suspected microfracture of the seventh rib, and your intercostal muscles are inflamed. That explains the pain and trouble breathing.”

Kelly was silent for a moment.
“How long before I can go back to work?”

Will looked at him as if he’d asked the most predictable question in the world.

“Weeks. At least two weeks of full rest. Then we’ll see.”

“I can’t be off for two weeks.”

“You can and you have to. The next strain could worsen the fracture or—worse—cause a lung collapse.”

Shay rested a hand on Kelly’s arm.
“Please listen to him.”

Kelly closed his eyes, jaw tightening. He was used to fighting fires, not his own vulnerability. Now he was stuck in a bed, dependent on others—a feeling he despised.

Will added:
“We’ll keep you here a couple more days. Pain management, monitoring, rest. No effort. No heroics.”

Shay stayed beside him—a steady presence in a sea of frustration.

Kelly sighed. The breath barely deepened before another sharp pain lanced through his side. He groaned softly, gritting his teeth.

Maybe this time, he really did have to surrender—even if he hated the thought.

The first 24 hours in the hospital were torture.
Not continuous pain, but sudden spikes, sharp and stabbing whenever he inhaled too deeply, laughed by mistake, or changed position.

Kelly wasn’t one to complain.
He’d suffered cuts, burns, falls, blows, but this pain was different: persistent, dull, relentless… and worst of all, it caged him.

Shay was the first to notice something was off beyond the physical.

She entered the next morning with a coffee and an expression trying to be cheerful.
“Breakfast for the world champion of stubbornness.”

Kelly lifted his eyes briefly.
“Thanks,” he murmured, voice low and strained.

She studied him for a few seconds.
“Did you sleep last night?”

“Not much…”

He didn’t tell her that each time he closed his eyes he saw the beam falling, heard the dull crash, felt the blow crushing his side like a vice.
But that was nothing compared to what came after:
falling behind while everyone else kept working, stuck while his men risked their lives.

It suffocated him more than the physical pain.

“Has Will come by?” he asked.

“Not yet, but I can already tell you he won’t let you escape.”

Kelly huffed, a movement that cost him another sharp stab of pain. He bent slightly, hand to his ribs.

Shay moved closer.
“Hey, slow down… breathe slowly.”

“I am…”

But it was clear he was fighting something bigger than himself.

Shay rested a hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Kelly.”

He turned away—not because he didn’t want to listen, but because he feared breaking.

The second night was worse.
The pain intensified, as if the trauma was settling deeper into his body.

Will visited around midnight, checking his vitals.

“The swelling is increasing… not abnormal, but I know it hurts.”

Kelly nodded tightly.
“I can tell.”

Will sighed.
“I’ve increased your pain meds, but you need to cooperate and rest. Really rest.”

“I am.”

“Not exactly.”

Kelly glared at him, and Will pointed to the monitor.

“You’re breathing too fast—a sign you’re fighting the pain instead of letting the medication work.”

“I’m fine.”

This time the words sounded empty, not stubborn.

Will gave a half-amused disbelief.
“You say that even when you’re literally about to collapse—and yesterday, you did collapse.”

“It’s over.”

“No, it’s not.” Will’s tone shifted.
“Look at yourself, Severide. You’ve been in here a day and a half, and you act like you’re failing someone… you don’t have to save the world every time.”

Kelly looked down.
The truth hit him like a blow. He couldn’t stand being still, couldn’t bear the idea that others were working while he was gasping for air in a bed.

Will finished:
“You’ll need at least two weeks off. And when I say off, I mean off.”

Kelly didn’t answer. A tight knot blocked his throat—frustration, helplessness… and something else he didn’t want to name.

The next morning, when Shay came back with another coffee, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, bent forward, one hand gripping his side.

“Kelly!” She rushed to him. “Are you in pain? What happened?”

“I just… moved wrong.”

“Why am I not surprised you’re doing things you shouldn’t?”

He tried to smile, but couldn’t.
His eyes were red—maybe from the sleepless night, but likely from something deeper.

Shay knelt in front of him, forcing him to meet her gaze.
“Hey… I’m here. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

Kelly froze a moment.
Then his eyes glistened—just enough to show that the armor was cracking.

These were the days Kelly Severide seemed to be fighting a fire inside himself.
Silent, flameless, soundless—but burning just the same.

And he had no idea someone was about to help put out at least some of that darkness.

When he signed the discharge papers, Kelly almost couldn’t believe it.
Not because he felt better—he didn’t.
The pain still stabbed with every movement, but at least he was leaving the hospital where he’d felt powerless, trapped, exposed.

Shay drove him home, and when she helped him to the couch he sighed.

“Shay, I’m fine… you don’t need to—”

“If you say that one more time, I swear I’ll let you fall down the stairs.”

Kelly closed his eyes a moment.
Truth was… standing was a struggle, breathing deeply nearly impossible.

She stepped out to “get something from the car.”
He stayed alone, and the silence hit him like a punch.

The pain in his side pulsed, but that wasn’t the real problem.
It was the empty house.
The feeling he didn’t belong anywhere but the fire line.
His mind ran too fast, filling the silence with thoughts he didn’t want.

He rubbed his face, worn out… vulnerable in a way he hated.

Then he heard the door open again.

Shay came in with a smile that felt suspicious.

“What did you do?” he asked, voice low and rough.

She gestured toward the door.
“Come in, little one.”

A tiny white-and-brown puppy, with big ears and eyes too soft for this world, trotted inside.

Kelly froze.
The puppy approached, hesitant, then placed a paw on his leg.

Something in Kelly melted—
a knot, a weight, a tension he’d carried for days.

“Shay… I…”

She smiled.
“No need to thank me. But you’re responsible for him. He’s not a decoration.”

Kelly lowered his hand slowly—painfully—and the pup nudged into it.
Kelly let out a breath, maybe the first real breath in days.

“Hey, little guy…” he whispered.

Shay watched him, seeing something in his eyes—not healing yet… but a beginning.

The following days passed slowly, marked by shallow breaths and careful movements.
The pain didn’t leave: sometimes it was a punch, other times a tight grip, but the puppy—whom Shay had already named Rusty without asking—stayed by his side as if he understood everything.

Rusty slept at his feet, chewed his shoelaces, and Kelly… laughed.
Softly, holding his breath to avoid the pain, but he laughed.

And for a few seconds at a time, the frustration and anxiety eased.

The day of the follow-up appointment arrived.
Shay drove him—there was no chance he could go alone.

“If you say ‘I’m fine’ in the next five minutes, I swear—”

“Okay, okay… I won’t.”

She gave him a suspicious look.
“You’re thinking it though.”
And he couldn’t deny it.

When they entered Chicago Med’s main corridor, Kelly paused.

Not because of the pain—though his side reminded him vividly of the falling beam—but because of something subtler.

The smell of disinfectant brought back the oppressive nights he’d just lived.

“Ready?” Shay asked.

He nodded.

Will was running late, so they were told to wait in a quieter lounge.

Shay went to get coffee.
Kelly stayed seated, trying to find a position that didn’t make him wince.

That’s when he saw him.

A blond, thin little boy, big eyes, wearing firefighter-themed pajamas.
In his arms, he held a stuffed dog—white and brown, very much like Rusty.

The child looked scared, jumping at every sound… yet when he saw Kelly, his face lit up.

“You’re a firefighter,” he said with the certainty of someone who believes in heroes.

Kelly smiled softly.
“Yeah.”

The boy took a few steps closer.
“I’m Timmy. You?”

“Kelly.”

Timmy nodded, hugging the toy tighter.
“My dog’s name is Max. He’s not a real dog… but I pretend he is.”

He held it out to Kelly to show him.

Kelly took it gently, as if afraid to hurt it.
“He’s a good dog.”

Timmy bit his lip.
“I asked my parents for a real dog but…” He paused, eyes glistening.
“I can’t. Because I have to stay here a long time.”

Kelly’s chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with ribs.

“Why are you here, Timmy?”

“My heart’s tired,” he whispered.
“I need a new little piece.”

Kelly held his breath—not from pain, but from the way he said it.

Timmy climbed onto the seat beside him, leaning against his leg without fear.
“When I grow up, I want to be a firefighter like you.”

Kelly smiled… but his eyes burned.
This child, so small and brave, wanted to be like him.
And Kelly? He couldn’t even breathe without wincing.

“I promise you something,” Kelly said quietly.
“When you get better… I’ll bring my dog to meet you.”

Timmy’s eyes widened.
“You have a real dog?”

“Yes.”

“Is he small?”

Kelly thought of Rusty.
“Tiny.”

The boy’s smile melted everything inside Kelly.

When Shay returned and saw them together, she understood instantly.
Kelly Severide had found someone who touched his heart.

The drive home was silent.
Shay watched him—his restless fingers, clenched jaw, short breaths.

“The check-up went well,” she said. “Will says you’re healing.”

“Yeah.”
But the word sounded empty.

“Not just the pain, right?” she asked gently.

Kelly didn’t answer.
If he spoke now, something would break.

Back home, Rusty ran to him with endless puppy enthusiasm.
Kelly knelt with effort and stroked him.

“Hey, little guy…”
His voice trembled.

Rusty licked his hand, unaware of the storm inside Kelly.

Kelly fell onto the couch, Rusty curled up on his lap.
The silence wasn’t an enemy this time…but not a comfort either.

He thought of Timmy—the shy smile, hidden fear, stuffed dog held tight.

“My heart's tired.”

Kelly inhaled; pain stabbed his side.
But the ache in his ribs was nothing compared to the knot in his stomach.

Rusty looked up at him, tilting his head as if he sensed everything.
Kelly stroked him gently.

“You know… I met someone today,” he murmured.
“A little boy. Too little for what he’s going through.”

Rusty placed a paw on his hand—a simple gesture that broke something loose.

A tear slid down Kelly’s cheek before he could stop it.

“He’d love you, you know?”
A soft, broken laugh.
“You look just like his toy… except you’re real.”

The pup leaned closer.
Kelly held him—carefully.

“Maybe… maybe I figured out what you’re really here for.”

It was absurd.
He’d only had Rusty a few days, and yet the pup had filled a void Kelly hadn’t recognized until he’d started healing.

“But Timmy… he needs you more than I do.”

Saying it hurt more than any rib.

And in that moment, he decided.
It wasn’t about being a hero or making a sacrifice.
It was simpler and crueler: a child needed that light more than he did.

He looked into Rusty’s eyes.

“Tomorrow… I’ll bring you to him.”

Rusty wagged his tail, unaware of the weight of the promise.

Kelly leaned back, side burning, eyes damp.

He had never felt his heart so full… and so painfully heavy.

The next morning, he dressed slowly.
Putting on his jacket took forever.
Every movement was a stab, a knife between the ribs.

Rusty followed him everywhere, tail wagging, unaware of what was happening.

Shay picked him up.
When she saw him holding the puppy, her smile faded.

“Kelly… are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really sure?”

“It’s the right thing.”

She opened the car door.
“Then let’s go.”

The drive was silent.
Rusty pressed his nose to Kelly’s chest, and Kelly barely held himself together.

At the hospital, each step to pediatrics was heavier than the last.

The sliding doors opened.

Timmy was on his bed, stuffed dog in his arms.
When he saw Kelly, his face lit up like the sun.

“Kelly! You came back!”

“I told you I would.”

Then Timmy saw Rusty.
And the world stopped.

“That’s him?”
Barely a whisper.

Kelly knelt—with great effort.
“Yes. This is Rusty.”

Timmy reached out with trembling hands.
Rusty walked straight up and licked his fingers.

Timmy laughed—a pure, bright laugh that shattered something inside Kelly.

“He’s the most beautiful dog in the world!”

Kelly inhaled slowly, bracing against the stab of pain.

“Timmy… he’s yours.”

Silence.

The boy’s smile froze… then softened into something unforgettable.
Awe. Gratitude. Joy too big for such a small body.

“R-really?”
“Really.”

Timmy hugged Rusty tight.
Rusty climbed into his arms, tail wagging like he finally knew where he belonged.

Shay wiped tears quietly.
Kelly lowered his eyes—looking at the boy was like taking a fist to the heart.

Timmy approached him, Rusty in his arms.
“Kelly… thank you. I love you.”

Kelly closed his eyes; when he opened them, they shimmered.

“Love you too, champ.”

A nurse called Timmy for tests.
The boy waved one last time, smiling wide.

Rusty trotted after him, as if he’d always been meant to.

Kelly stood still.
His stomach tight, breath thin, a new pain blooming—one unrelated to ribs.

Shay touched his arm.
“Let’s go?”

He nodded—unable to speak.

Back home, the door closed behind them with a heaviness that marked a boundary between the outside world and the storm within him.

Shay set her keys down, watching him.
She didn’t need words; she knew him too well.

Kelly stood in the living room, staring at Rusty’s little bed, at the full water bowl, at the toy the puppy brought him each morning.

Silence hit him in the chest like a blow.

Shay approached softly.
“Kelly…”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
But this time, his voice shook.

“You don’t have to be,” she whispered.

That was all he needed—permission to break.

He sat on the couch, side burning, breath short.
He picked up Rusty’s toy… and his eyes blurred.

Shay sat beside him, saying nothing, not touching him.
Just being there.

The first sob came low, strangled.
Then another—an avalanche breaking through.

Kelly bent forward, hands over his face.
Shay placed a hand gently on his back—not to stop him, but to remind him he wasn’t alone.

“You did the right thing,” she murmured.
“Even if it hurts.”

He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I didn’t think… it would hurt this much.”

“When you give all of yourself… it always does.”

He let the pain out—for the first time.

When his breathing finally steadied, Kelly remained leaning back, eyes red, exhausted.

Shay set a glass of water beside him.
“Stay here. You don’t have to face this alone.”

Severide nodded, silent—and for the first time in days, he let someone hold him up.

Chapter Text

The heat was suffocating—not the usual firehouse heat that Kelly Severide had known all his life.
This time, it was different: heavier, denser, almost personal.

The call had come in early afternoon:
"Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61: fire in an industrial warehouse built in the ’50s, with old systems and an unstable roof."

Station 51 had departed immediately, sirens blaring, adrenaline at full throttle.

Kelly led the Squad inside.
Thick smoke, minimal visibility, the floor vibrating with every step.

“Check the upper floor!” he ordered, moving ahead of everyone.

The second floor was a maze of narrow corridors and metal shelves stacked with old goods.

Suddenly, a boom echoed through the building.
Part of the roof gave way, a tremor shaking the walls.

Kelly barely had time to yell:
“Everyone out, NOW!”

He heard Cruz, Capp, and Tony racing toward the stairs and silently thanked God for seeing them run before the world… collapsed.

A sharp crash, then another, and finally the floor gave way beneath him.

Kelly jumped back, reaching for anything he could grab, but the floor collapsed entirely.
Moments later, he was buried under a rain of beams, metal, and dust—and the world went black.

When Kelly opened his eyes again, he had no idea how much time had passed.
Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

He couldn’t move. His left side was pinned under a massive metal beam, and every breath felt like it was scraping his ribs.
He tried moving a leg… nothing.
A hand… pain shot through his shoulder.

“Come on…” he whispered, coughing. “Not now…”

In theory, he should have called for help on the radio.
In practice, the radio had fallen across the room, three meters out of reach.

And then he realized: he was trapped. Completely alone.

He inhaled slowly; the smoke burned his throat. But there was one detail out of place.
A strange beam of light hit his face.

He looked up—and what he saw stole his breath.

Above him, through the broken ceiling boards, there was a patch of blue sky.
An impossible, bright, clear blue, completely at odds with the chaos of the fire.

That little window seemed like a portal to another world.
A world with no pain, no smoke, no collapsing beams… only peace.

Kelly stared at the blue as a man clings to a lifeline, a fixed point, a promise.

He had to hold on. He could not pass out—not here, not now.

Meanwhile, outside…

“Where the hell is Severide?!” Stella Kidd shouted as she emerged from the building, coughing.

Capp and Tony exchanged fearful glances.
“He was behind us!”
“He told us to get out and… then the floor started shaking…”

Stella didn’t let them finish.
“Cruz! Hermann! Boden! Kelly’s still in there!”

Boden came running, his mask nearly torn from his face.
“No one goes in until I confirm the structure is stable! Conditions are worsening—the rest of that roof won’t hold!”

Stella stepped forward, eyes full of terror.
“Boss, Kelly’s trapped. And we’re going back in.”

It wasn’t a question—it was a statement.

Boden nodded sharply.
“Bring reinforcements. Form a search team. We are not leaving without him.”

Time slipped strangely.
Sometimes Kelly felt only seconds had passed, other times… years.

The smoke was rising toward him. The heat was unbearable.
Sweat poured down his forehead, but he couldn’t lift his hands to wipe it away.

Every movement was a knife to his back, every breath a blade between his ribs.

“Not yet…” he muttered, lifting his eyes.

The blue patch of sky was still there, unmoving, perfect.
A point of peace amidst the inferno.

“Stay awake… stay awake, Kelly… look at the sky… look there,” he repeated to himself.

The blue seemed to pulse with his breath; each inhale made it brighter, each exhale made it expand.

“Dad…” he whispered in a moment of confusion, unsure if he was delirious, unsure if it was just a memory.

But speaking gave him strength, so he continued.

“This is not how I die…” he inhaled. “Not today…”

The squad re-entered the warehouse.
The smoke was thicker, flames higher, the heat unbearable.

Stella moved ahead of everyone, as if something was guiding her.

“Kelly!” she shouted. “KELLY! Tell us where you are!”

Cruz found Kelly’s radio on the floor.
“The radio’s here—it fell… he can’t be far!”

Boden shouted through the emergency megaphone:
“SEVERIDE! IF YOU CAN HEAR US, MAKE SOME NOISE!”

Nothing. Silence.

Stella kept moving, shifting metal, broken boards, collapsed shelves.

Then she stopped.
Her instinct—the inner voice that never lies—shouted inside her: he’s here.

“Guys! Come here!”
There was a gap in the floor, a hole leading to the lower level—a recent collapse.

“Kelly’s down there,” Stella whispered. “I know it.”

Kelly heard something—voices, footsteps, metallic sounds.

And then…

“KELLY!”
It was her. Stella.

“Here…” he whispered, but the voice barely came out. He could just manage to move a finger.

Stella’s voice cracked:
“KELLY! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, GIVE US A SIGN!”

His body screamed to move; his mind screamed; every ounce of him urged him to act.

And then he did.

He lifted his hand just enough to touch a piece of metal and tap it.
A brief, weak, but real sound.

TING.

Stella’s eyes widened.
“I heard it! It was him!”

“Down there!” Cruz yelled. “Move these beams!”

Three minutes passed, each feeling like a lifetime.

They lifted burning planks, heavy beams, fragile rubble.
Smoke swirled around them, clothes heating, helmets caked with soot.

Finally, a piece of his fire jacket appeared.

“It’s him!”

Stella knelt and saw him.

Kelly lay on his side, face gray from dust, eyes half-closed.
The beam pressed against his side, blood trickled from his temple. But… he was breathing.

“Kelly…” she whispered, voice broken.

He barely lifted his gaze.
“The sky… it was… blue.”

Stella held back a sob.
“You’re an idiot… but you’re alive.”

Cruz and Boden lifted the beam with a pneumatic cushion.
Hermann slid his arms under Kelly’s shoulders.
Stella supported his head.

“We’ve got you, Lieutenant… heading home.”

When they lifted him, Kelly groaned, pain hitting him in waves, but he never took his eyes off that patch of sky above them.

He was alive. Still there.

Outside, the ambulance waited.
Brett and Violet ran to him.

“Kelly!”
“Oh my God, look at you…”

They strapped him to the stretcher and placed the oxygen mask.
Checked his vitals, pupils, and blood pressure.

“Side pain?”

Kelly weakly nodded.
“Ribs… maybe… broken…”

Stella held his hand without thinking.
“We found you.”

Kelly gave a small, watery smile.
“It kept me awake…”

“Who?” Stella asked, stroking his forehead.

“The sky… that patch… of blue. I stared at it… and stayed awake… for you guys.”

Stella smiled through her tears.
“Then we’ll thank the sky too.”

The ER entrance buzzed with activity.
Station 51 had gathered just outside the bay where Kelly was being treated, still in his soot-stained gear, helmet under his arm, hands trembling.

Boden arrived last.
He walked slowly, each step heavy with concern.
Sweat and smoke streaked his face, but above all, worry.

Stella moved to update him, but he laid a hand on her shoulder before she spoke.

“He’s breathing?”
His voice calm, but eyes betraying his anxiety.

“Yes, Chief. Some cracked ribs, deep bruises… but alive.”
Stella swallowed hard to keep from crying.

Boden closed his eyes briefly, letting an old tension ease.
Then he inhaled deeply and approached the glass of the bay.

Inside, Kelly lay on the stretcher as Dr. Halstead stabilized him, Maggie checking his pupils. His chest rose and fell steadily.

“He went too deep into the warehouse, Chief…” Cruz murmured.

“He didn’t act recklessly,” Stella intervened. “The building was collapsing. He sent you out and the floor gave way under him.”

Boden listened, eyes fixed on Kelly.
He seemed to gather thoughts, responsibilities, fears—like only he could.

Then, in his calm, grave voice:
“He did what every leader does. He ensures his team is safe… before himself.”

No one spoke.
Every member of 51 knew it was true.

Boden then turned to them, voice no longer commanding, but almost fatherly.

“You’re alive because he was there,” he said softly. “And he’s alive because you didn’t stop looking for him.”

Cruz looked down, touched more than he wanted to admit.
Hermann wiped a tear with the back of his hand.
Even Capp’s voice cracked.

Stella didn’t take her eyes off Boden.

“Chief… Kelly survived because he held on,” she said. “He said he was looking at the sky. A little patch of blue—the only thing he could see.”

Boden stayed still.
The blue sky, the detail only Kelly would notice amid the inferno.

Slowly, a faint smile touched his face.

“Severide has always had a gift for seeing beyond the flames.”
Then, in a deep voice:
“That’s how he survives.”

Silence followed. Dense, respectful, full of gratitude.

Boden approached the bay door. He didn’t enter, letting the doctors work, but placed a hand on the glass, as if to transmit strength through it.

“Come home, Lieutenant…” he whispered almost to himself. “51 isn’t the same without you.”

Two days later, Kelly was in a hospital bed.
Cracked ribs, deep bruises, dehydration, mild concussion—but nothing permanent.

Stella entered with a smile.
“Did you know today’s a beautiful day?”

Kelly looked up. “Oh yeah?”

She pulled aside the curtain, and a clean, infinite blue sky streamed in through the window.

Kelly stared in silence, then took Stella’s hand and whispered:
“This time… I prefer to watch it from outside the fire.”

She chuckled softly, pressing her forehead to his.
“And we prefer you do it safely… from here.”

Kelly inhaled deeply.
The blue sky—his lifesaver.