Don't Tell
Dawson and Casey have recently started going out and they have gone public. This ignores the firehouse closure and head injury storyline.
WARNING: Suicide attempt, rape recovery
More Questions Than Answers
Their shift was over and Severide had hoped to catch Casey before he left the station but he'd disappeared as soon as the clock had hit 8am. Not unusual for the truck lieutenant nowadays.
"Kelly?" Boden called over as Severide shut his locker door. "Do you have minute?"
"Sure Chief." He followed Boden into his office. "What's up?"
"Was hoping you could tell me," Boden replied as he sat down heavily in his chair.
Severide remained standing. "Chief?"
"Casey," Boden said simply.
"Ah…" Severide had been wondering himself.
Casey hadn't been himself for the last few weeks, nowhere near himself, but every time Severide attempted to approach him the man came up with some sort of excuse, just like he came up with an excuse every time anyone asked him to do something, to join in with drinks at Molly's, even to have lunch with the others whilst on shift. He was avoiding everyone, secluding himself in his office on shift and ignoring messages when he was not. Severide had even questioned Dawson on the matter but he got nowhere, apparently it was none of his business, Shay had also received the same response when she came to quiz Dawson.
"Your guess is as good as mine then?" Boden presumed.
Severide shrugged miserably. "Don't know what it could be, maybe something with his mom? I dunno… he's never been forthcoming when it comes to his family… maybe it's something to do with Dawson, they've not been coming to work together this last week or so… I really don't know."
"Suppose we just continue to…"
"Keep an eye on him." Severide finished with a sigh. "Yeah… suppose so."
"He needs to get his act together, sharpen up and smarten up," Boden stated.
"You spoken to him?" he questioned.
"Last shift," Boden replied, "Says he's fine."
"Course he does."
"He looks exhausted, ill even," Boden replied.
"I know." No-one had missed Casey's change of appearance; he usually kempt looks were now scruffy and worn. He'd neglected himself lately. He had dark heavy circles under his eyes and Severide suspected he'd lost weight by the way his polo top had begun to hang off his frame.
"If he keeps going on like this…"
"I know… I'll try and speak to him, try and see what's going on."
But Severide never managed to speak to Casey. He didn't take any calls, not unusual these days, and when Severide turned up at his house he was unwelcome, Casey had explained that he was just on his way out to a construction job but his truck had still been parked outside of the house ten minutes later. But Severide knew he'd get nowhere by pushing Casey.
Boden was forced to send Casey home during their next shift, his head wasn't in it. Casey hadn't even protested, he had just walked away in silence.
It was 8pm when Severide hammered on Casey's front door. Casey's truck was outside, the house lights were on, but he wasn't answering the door, not even to give Severide another excuse.
"Come on Case... I got pizza and beer!" he called into the house. "Pizza's getting cold and beer's getting warm… Casey?"
He was getting nowhere. He fumbled for his set of keys, pulled them out of his pocket. Not answering the door for pizza and beer constituted as an emergency, right?
"Matt you better be decent 'cause I'm coming in!"
The house was a mess. There were dirty clothes strewn everywhere, barely eaten takeaway containers littered about, empty cans, empty bottles. Severide wrinkled his nose up at the old vomit he almost stepped in as he walked further into the usually well-kept house. The place stunk of alcohol and stale food, it was enough to make Severide want to gag.
"Case?"
There was a clatter and a thump from the bathroom. Glass shattered.
"Casey?!" Panic was etched in his voice.
Gurgling. Was that choking?
"Matt?!"
The bathroom door was locked. Or was Casey behind it?
"Case, I'm coming in!"
Severide slammed his shoulder against the door until the hinges gave way. He pulled the door away and gasped at the sight that was revealed.
"Oh God…"
Casey was lying in a pool of his own vomit. He was thrashing around. No. He was seizing. Only the whites of his eyes could be seen as his body convulsed and his lungs gasped for air. Vomit flooded out of his mouth. Shattered glass was lying around him, making shallow cuts in his skin as his body continued to thrash. Blood ran together with other bodily fluids and alcohol. An empty pill bottle could be seen nearby.
Severide knelt down and whipped his phone out.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I need an ambulance, my friend's overdosed. He's seizing."
Severide was by Casey's side, he'd turned him over, his flailing limbs made it a challenging feat but he'd managed it, all he could do was wait for the seizure to subside, make sure that Casey didn't choke on his own vomit, didn't choke on his own tongue, make sure he didn't stop breathing.
It felt like an eternity but eventually the ambulance arrived. Severide picked up the empty pill bottle. Prozac. Since when had Casey been taking anti-depressants? The shattered pieces of glass were easily recognised; a bottle of whiskey. The scene was all too obvious but he didn't want to think about it, didn't want to admit to himself that his best friend had just tried to take his own life, and he just might have succeeded because he was sat by him in the ambulance now, lights and sirens blaring as the rig raced to the hospital. Casey was still seizing on and off, they would subside and just as Severide began to feel relieved Casey began to convulse again.
Severide stood behind the swinging trauma bay doors as the doctors worked frantically to reverse the damage Casey had inflicted on himself. He watched as his clothes were cut off and pulled away. He watched as blood was taken, as yet another IV line was inserted into Casey's pale arm. He watched as they fed him activated charcoal through the tube in his nose. He watched as the heart monitor showed sporadic beats. He watched as they suctioned vomit as his body lurched and jerked. But soon he was pulled away from the doors, away from Casey and he couldn't watch anymore.
It had been nearly an hour before anyone came to find Severide, he'd almost worn a hole in the waiting room floor with the all the pacing. "How is he?" Severide questioned as he stormed over to the doctor he recognised from the trauma bay.
"He's stable," the ER doctor replied. "Are you family?"
"You'll not get in touch with his family easily, I'm listed as his next of kin." Casey had asked Severide not long after Hallie died if he could change his details and name Severide in case of any emergencies, in case he was incapacitated and couldn't make his own medical decisions. "I'm his best friend and… and I didn't even know he was taking anti-depressants."
"His medical record shows he's been on them for a while, which makes us question this suicide attempt, according to his doctors notes the pills were working, has something happened recently?"
Severide shook his head. "He's been different, been off for the last few weeks but… I… I don't know, I don't know what's happened… don't think anything's happened, it's like he's just… like his walls have just collapsed."
"His walls?" the doctor frowned.
"He's a firefighter," Severide explained simply, "He just locks everything up, he takes things so hard but… but in the last few weeks it's like he's not cared about anything."
"About himself?"
"No, he's always put everyone above him but recently it's like he doesn't give a damn about anyone else, never mind himself," he replied.
"He's getting a bed in the ICU because we're worried about toxicity from the serotonin overdose. He'll be on a seventy-two hour hold. He'll have a psych assessment and we'll see where we go from there," the doctor explained.
"He tried to kill himself… never once thought he'd do that. He's the strongest man I've ever known."
"That's usually the way," the doctor commented, "You can see him now before he's taken up to the ICU, he won't be awake for some time."
"Physically he's going to be ok?"
"He should be, like I said, I'm worried about serotonin syndrome, a toxic build up from the pills he took, so he's going to be heavily monitored for the next twenty-four hours. He's been given some benzodiazepines and we're giving him IV fluids to keep him hydrated. Once that time has passed he should be in the clear."
Casey had been put on a seventy-two hour psychiatric hold. He was on suicide watch, checked on by a member of staff every fifteen minutes. When he was conscious he would be assessed and his doctors would discuss what treatment, if any, would be best for him, but for now Casey was oblivious to the world. He'd been declared incompetent in matters of his own medical care because of the suicide attempt. Severide now held power of attorney. Just as Casey would if he himself was ever incapacitated, the risks of their job were high and neither of them had wanted to be unprepared for the all too real prospect of injury.
Severide pulled a stool up to Casey's bedside. There were black smudges on Casey's pale face, black smudges on the white hospital gown. He saw now how much weight Casey had lost recently. He was starting to shiver violently and it wasn't from the cold. The pills had done a number on his system.
"Why'd you do it Casey? Why didn't I know what was wrong? Why didn't anyone know?" He took hold of Casey's hand, he was shivering under his grip, almost jerking but the doctor had assured Severide that he was doing all right given the circumstances.
It wasn't long until a man dressed in white entered the curtained area. "We're moving him up to the ICU now," the porter informed him, "You'll be able to visit in the morning."
Casey opened his eyes. The lids felt like lead, he felt nauseous and hot all over, his vision was hit by an onslaught of bright lights and a familiar sterile smell assaulted his nostrils. "No…" he groaned, scrunched his eyes shut and only now did he become aware of the heavy weight on his chest, of the persistent voice calling his name.
"Matt can you hear me?" the doctor repeated his question. Casey was rousing slowly but surely, his eyes opened once again, he was slowly looking around now, taking in his surroundings, disappointment was evident on his face. "Matt you're in the ICU at Lakeshore. Do you remember what happened?" he questioned.
"No..." he muttered once more. "Shouldn't be here..."
"You remember what happened then?" The doctor presumed from his reaction. "You overdosed."
"Why..." Casey wasn't listening to the doctor, hadn't even noticed that Severide was stood by his side, that he'd been by his side since visiting hours had begun that morning.
"Why did you overdose?" the doctor frowned, "Why didn't it work?"
"Shouldn't be here," Casey murmured.
"Your friend found you and..."
Severide spoke up for the first time. "I found you, Matt."
Casey didn't even bother to look over to him. "No... no, no... wasn't supposed to..."
"You're going to be moved down to one of the medical wards soon and a psychiatrist is going to speak to you," the doctor explained.
"You're gonna get some help, Matt." Severide nodded.
"No..."
Conscious that the morning visiting hours would soon be over Severide questioned, "Can I stay with him for a bit?" The doctor nodded before moving on to his other patients.
Casey remained deadly still.
"You're looking a little better," Severide smiled. "Physically you're gonna be all right, probably shaved a few years off your liver but you're…"
Casey's face paled, Severide grabbed the empty emesis basin from the side and passed it to him just in time as he gagged and spluttered.
"Spoke to soon," Severide commented, he took the vomit filled basin away. "Water?"
"Why did you find me?" Casey's voice was hoarse and only a little more than a whisper.
"You think no-one's noticed you in the last few weeks? Think no one's seen how awful look? Not noticed how you've been around all of us?"
But Casey turned away. He closed his eyes and waited. Waited for Severide to go.
Severide didn't go, he wasn't about to give up, he persisted, "I've not spoken to Dawson yet, you want to call her? Or I can? Don't think you'll want her turning up at your place..."
"No."
"She's your girlfriend; you've been going out for…"
"No."
"Talk to me Case, tell me what's going on, this isn't like you," Severide urged.
Casey twisted back to face him. "You don't know anything about me," he snarled.
"You're wrong," Severide stated. "You've been depressed for weeks Matt, never seen you so bad… I should have…"
"You should have left me," he replied.
"I'd never leave you," Severide assured him.
Casey scoffed. "You would if you knew."
"Knew what?"
"You can leave. I don't want you here so don't stay because of some sense of obligation," he stated.
"I want to be here," Severide reassured him.
"I don't want you here!"
Severide was taken aback by the sudden anger, the sudden change in demeanour. "Ok, well, I'm not gonna be by tomorrow, on shift, I called Boden, told him you were sick... not too far from the truth right? ... What? You'd rather I tell him the truth? Tell everyone the truth? Tell everyone that you're stuck in hospital on a seventy-two hour hold because you swallowed a load of pills?!"
"I don't care what you do."
On shift Severide's distraction did not go unnoticed by Chief Boden who stopped by his quarters. "Everything all right?"
"Fine," Severide replied a little too quickly, he'd not long got off the phone with the hospital checking in on Casey. He'd been moved from the ICU to a ward, he knew nothing more.
A look of disbelief washed over Boden's face. "Casey feeling better?"
"What? Oh…" he stammered. "No, I don't think so…"
"Thought you said he was sick?" Boden questioned.
"Erm yeah he is," he nodded, trying quickly to recover.
"Is there something you're not telling me?"
"What? No… no… I just had a late night and apparently I've still not had enough caffeine today." That last part was true, he'd been up all night worried about Casey, wondering how he'd missed all the signs, imagining the worst; what if he hadn't turned up at his door?
"Well keep me updated on Casey ok? He's probably annoyed at me for…"
"He's not, he's good, Chief."
Boden left. Severide sighed deeply, shaking his head at his own actions. He'd just told an outright lie to his chief. There would be hell to pay later when Boden found out because he would. That was inevitable.
Severide walked onto the medical ward the next morning, smiling at the clerk behind the desk. "I'm here for Matthew Casey? It's Kelly Severide," he informed her.
"Ok, just a sec." She looked at the screen in front of her. "He's in 34B," she advised, smiling back. She had a nice smile but Severide wasn't here for that. Not right now. "The doctor is in with him at the moment," she went on to explain, "But you can wait."
"From psych?" he questioned.
The young lady nodded. "They won't be much longer."
"'K I'll wait outside his room then."
Severide wasn't waiting long before the doctor appeared from the private room that Casey had been moved to now he didn't need the intensive monitoring that the ICU provided.
"How is he?" Severide questioned the man immediately, leaving him taken aback at the speed with which he had been approached. "I'm Kelly Severide, I'm..."
"Holding Matthew's power of attorney at the moment." He nodded at Severide, extending a hand. "We have your details on record."
"How is he doc? Gonna assume he didn't tell you why he did it?"
"I haven't asked him, not specifically anyway. To be honest he hasn't really said anything at all so I doubt he'd tell us at this stage," the doctor explained kindly.
"So what happens now? What happens when the seventy-two hours are over?"
The doctor sighed. "Well, if he's medically stable he'll be released."
"Released? Just like that?" Severide felt anger rising inside. "He just tried to kill himself and you're gonna release him? What the hell?"
"At this point I can only suggest counselling and outpatient..."
"For God's sake he tried to kill himself, literally took a load of pills, didn't expect to be waking up, and you're suggesting counselling?! How do you know he won't try again?"
The doctor cleared his throat, embarrassed by the situation but unable to offer Severide much of a solution at the moment. "Well, I think everything suddenly just got too much for him. He's seen a lot in his job that most people would only have nightmares about, he's lost people, he didn't have the easiest childhood, his records show that..."
"So you think he's just cracked then? And that's it?" Severide questioned incredulously.
"We're recommending he sees a…"
"Recommending? Can't you force him to see someone?"
The doctor shook his head. "He's not expressed any interest in seeing anyone nor in doing anything else that suggests he might try to take his own life again. It may have been a cry for help, maybe attention seeking."
Seeking attention? No. Casey would never do that, he'd never done that in his whole life. "That's not Casey," Severide simply stated. There had to be something else going on.
TBC