A/N: I don't own Chicago Fire, NBC, or any other known entity. This story is a follow up to "Stay The Night", which was always meant to be a Casey-centric story, but with all the reviews asking about Severide, I felt the need to write one more chapter. I hope you all enjoy this story, and please review! :)

The Other Half

"Seriously? A ghost?" Severide says.

I nod. "Yeah, man," I tell him. "She died there four years ago."

"How did you… I mean, didn't you…?"

"I don't know."

Severide laughs. "Oh, man. You are never gonna live this down."

"Come on. You were dying yourself for a little while there."

Severide shakes his head. "I had it under control."

"Your bike is at the bottom of Clear Lake."

Severide pauses, and I know I struck a nerve there.

"You're lucky to be alive, you know," I tell him.

"Yeah," he says under his breath. "Thanks for being here."

"Of course. You'd do the same for me."

He shrugs. "Not sure I'd drive three hours away…"

I look at him. "Yes, you would."

He tips his head to the side. "Yeah, I guess I would." He smirks to himself. "Seriously, though. You never guessed?"

"That she was a ghost?" I ask.

"Yeah," he replies.

"Why would I? She seemed more alive than you did, at the time. I guess I was looking for someone to talk to. She was right about the food, though. Wasn't that bad."

"I would hope she was, considering she ghost-walks here."

"She worked here."

"Was she wearing the same uniform as the others?" he asks.

"Not the ones on this floor," I tell him. "But definitely the same ones as the rest of the ICU nurses."

He shakes his head again. "How'd she eat a sandwich if she's a ghost?"

"I don't know."

"Was the sandwich real?"

"I don't know," I repeat.

"You even said yourself, it seemed weird that she just happened to be behind you when you got back to my room. Plus, you didn't think it was weird that a nurse had all that time to just hang with you all night?"

"I thought maybe you were her only patient."

"Then how do you explain that other nurse… Jackie?"

"I don't know," I tell him. "I wasn't thinking. I was a little more focused on wondering if you were gonna live that night."

"I'm fine," he says.

"Yeah, now you are. You looked like hell that night."

"Well, you would too, if you were in an accident."

"I don't ride motorcycles."

He shifts in bed, pulling himself up slightly. His left leg is still casted, and his ribs are still broken and healing, but he's in good spirits and not complaining about his bike, so…

"It's really in the bottom of the lake?" he asks.

I spoke too soon. "I think the police might've fished it out," I say.

"That bike's gonna need a lot of work."

"Good thing you'll have time to fix it while your leg heals."

"Good thing." He tugs at the blanket slightly.

"What happened, man?" I ask.

He looks up at me. "You've been sitting here for four days, and you're just asking that question now?" he asks.

"Because you've been avoiding talking about the bike. So, what happened?"

"I wrecked."

I sigh, somewhat annoyed. "Yeah, I know that. How'd it happen?"

"What, your ghost friend didn't tell you?" he teases.

I shake my head. "She thought you did it on purpose," I reply.

"I didn't."

"I know you didn't. But, what I don't know, is what happened?"

He sighs softly. "I was coming around a corner, and a car hit me. I slid toward the guardrail by the lake, but the bike flipped over it. I don't remember too much after that."

"So, then, you have no idea how the bike went in the lake, and you didn't?"

He shakes his head. "No clue."

I nod.

"How'd you manage to convince the firehouse to stay behind?" he asks.

"Wasn't too hard," I tell him. "It's not like this is Chicago Med. You crashed in Clear Lake, Indiana. What, exactly, were you doing out here?"

He shrugs. "Just felt like goin' for a drive."

"That's a hell-of-a long drive, there."

"Just needed to clear my head."

"You found clarity, all right."

He shakes his head again. "I'm sorry, man."

"I've been sitting here four days, and you're just saying that now?" I joke.

He laughs softly. "Yeah."

I shake my head. "You know that you're gonna be in trouble when we get home."

"For not crashing somewhere more conveniently located?" he asks.

"Something like that," I reply. But he and I both know what I really mean by that statement… even though the crash wasn't his fault, he's still gonna catch crap for it.

"That's nothing, compared to you," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't the one up all night with a ghost."

I roll my eyes.

The End.