Ambulance 61, man down from unknown causes. 125 Wiltshire Avenue.
"They're playing our song." Dawson said to Brett and they began jogging over to the ambulance, still finishing off their slice of toast they were having for breakfast.
"Hey." Dawson turned around to see Casey walking over, "be careful." He said with a hint of worry in his voice and his face, like he always had when ambo got a solo call. Dawson looked at him and smirked, "Aren't I always?" she replied as she climbed into the driver's side, not forgetting to touch the gold name crest on the door, the name of her former paramedic partner, her best friend, 'Leslie Elizabeth Shay'. Feeling her heart sink and her eyes glass over with sudden heart-wrenching memories of Shay, she climbed into the driver's seat and put the keys into ignition.
She always felt it, the loss, the grief for her fallen friend, every time she was driving the ambulance. It never got easier.
6 minutes later, they arrived at the address. The house they parked at looked normal, but as Dawson surveyed the house and looked closer, she saw that all the flowers in the front yard were dead or dying, the grass needed a mow and all the curtains for the street side of the house were drawn shut. Something felt off to Dawson, but she shoved the feeling away, she was just being paranoid, right?
She joined her friend and partner, Brett at the back of the rig, helping her get the necessary equipment out. Dawson glanced over at Brett and noticed the same wary expression on Brett. They looked at each other, then back to the house and looked at each other again, but now with their professional game face on.
They both walked over to the front door before Dawson gave her usual 3 sharp, loud knocks before calling out.
"Hello? Anyone call for an ambulance?" They both waited for a few seconds for a reply, but none came. Dawson called out again. Knock 3 times, call out once more. Still nothing.
Dawson looked over at Brett and Brett buzzed her radio.
"Ambo 61 to Maine. We're at the location sent, no answer. Are you sure this is the correct address?"
The reply to them was instant.
"Maine to 61. The address we gave is correct. 125 Wiltshire Avenue."
With that reply, Dawson knocked again, louder and with a slight annoyed tone in her voice.
"Hello? This is the ambulance with the CFD. Did anyone call for an ambulance?"
Still, no reply. Knowing protocol, Dawson used the end of her torch to break the glass to the front door. Protocol allowed this, just in case the victim couldn't call out for help.
They both carefully, quietly and slowly made their way around the house, looking in each room. They've been in too many situations where they've been met with a scary surprise so both paramedic's guards were up. They both stuck together as they checked the downstairs rooms and the upstairs room, and the garden. They found nothing. No one.
"Well this is a waste of time. I swear to God, if it's a prank call again…" Dawson huffed out in annoyance.
"I don't know Dawson, I have a weird feeling about this place." Brett said slowly and quietly.
Dawson looked over at Brett before replying, "Yeah, me too. But we searched the whole house. There's no one here." Dawson said to Brett before noticing Brett looking around again.
"Alright, that's it, I'm calling it in. No one in the house in need of treatment." Just as Dawson was about to buzz her radio, Brett called out.
"Dawson, wait. I think I've got something."
Dawson stalked over to where Brett was and looked at a hidden door underneath the stairs, easily miss able unless you looked hard. Dawson lightly knocked on the small door, fear creeping up inside of her.
"Hello? Mr Potter?" Dawson joked but with a hint of fear in her voice. Brett gave her a 'really?' look and reached and to twist the door knob. To both their surprise, the handle turned and unlocked.
Both paramedics looked at each other, having a silent conversation.
'Guess we're going down there…into the creeping basement.' Brett's eyes spoke.
'Guess we are, we need to, what if someone is hurt?' Dawson's determined eyes replied.
'What if someone tries to kill us…again?' Brett's urgent eyes told.
They both stared at each other for 5 more seconds before they both huffed and sighed out and Dawson took the lead by going first, both girls with a scalpel out… just in case.
When they got to the bottom of the creepy narrow stairs, they noticed the basement was pitch black. Brett felt over the wall until her hand brushed a string, pulling it to activate the rubbish, power saving light bulb.
In front of them was a chair. A dentist chair. And they saw a figure lying on it, unmoving.
"Sir?" Dawson called over. "Sir, are you okay? Did you call for an ambulance?" Dawson and Brett reached the front of the chair and saw a teenage boy, around 16, laying limp but slightly breathing with an incredibly weak pulse and drool coming down a side of his face.
Dawson and Brett looked at him and each other in shock.
"No, I did." A voice called from behind them.
Dawson jumped back, and Brett let out a shriek.
"You two took your damn time." The woman, she looked mid-40s, slightly greying hair from the roots but mainly light brown. She wore dirty looking clothes but the thing both paramedics noticed was the dark circles under her eyes.
"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you tell us what happened?" Brett asked first.
"What happened is my boy needs help." The woman stated.
"Okay, what happened to him?" Dawson asked firmly.
"3 years ago, my boy was in a car accident." The woman said with a matter-of-factly voice.
"I'm so sorry." Brett said sympathetically. "But ma'am… why did you call us?"
"Because…because I need you to fix him."
"Fix him?" Dawson questioned.
"That person in the chair, that is not my boy. He was in a coma for 2 months after the accident. When he woke up, he couldn't speak, he couldn't move, they said he had brain damage, that there was nothing they could do. The damage to his brain was too severe." The woman saw the look on Brett and Dawson's face. They were sad for her and her son, but also confused.
"I tried to help him, but whatever I tried, it didn't work. Obviously." She gestured to her son.
"Um, ma'am- "Brett started.
"Tracey, my son is Billy."
"Okay, Tracey. When you said, 'tried to help him', what exactly did you mean? How did you 'try to help him'?"
"ECT." Tracey said.
Brett gasped, a little too loud than she was supposed to, and Dawson's face went from a disgusted expression to a concerned expression.
"Tracey, are you a doctor, or in the medical field?" Dawson questioned.
"No, no I am not."
"Okay, well, you should never do these kinds of treatments if you're not some sort of doctor." Dawson told her with a professional tone.
"Well, I know that." Tracey let out a chuckle, "but what other choice did I have? Look at my poor Billy. He needs to be better, I need him to be better. Don't you see?" Tracey creeped closer to them as she spoke. "So, fix him."
"I'm sorry 'fix him'?" Brett asked confusedly.
"Yes, dear. Fix him. Bring my boy back."
"Tracey, we can't do that. We don't have the skills, equipment…we just can't do that. I'm sorry. But we can give you some names of carers or homes to take him to- "
"Excuse me? Carers? Home? Don't you think I can look after him? He is my son."
"That is not what we meant. But we can't 'make him better' or anything like that, Tracey there's nothing we can do." Brett stated.
"Try."
Dawson and Brett looked at each other again for a few seconds.
"And if we don't?" Dawson asked quizzically.
Tracey let out a humourless laugh. She walked over to a cupboard by the wall, opened it and took something out.
"If you don't," Tracey then turned around holding the object up at them, "then one of you won't be so lucky." She said, raising a shotgun at them both.
Dawson and Brett looked at Tracey and the shotgun with wide eyes, raised their hands and gulped nervously.
Dawson turned around to look over Billy again. Thinking if there was anything they could do. But there was nothing. If he has been this way for 3 years. They could do nothing.
"Tracey, look, your son has been this way for 3 years, there is nothing we can do. Not now. I'm sorry." Dawson said.
"How many times have you used ECT on him?" Brett asked.
"I don't know, 5 times this month?"
"How long have you been applying electricity to his brain, Tracey?" Dawson asked nervously.
Tracey shrugged, "7 months, give or take."
Dawson's eyes widened in shock. How is this woman so nonchalant about this?
"Dawson, his breathing." Brett said, going to the other side of Billy.
Dawson took out her stethoscope and placed it onto Billy's chest. "He needs to be incubated." Dawson said hurriedly.
Both paramedics did their jobs. They pushed Billy's chair down, so he was flat and incubated him.
"Tracey, we need to get him to a hospital now- "
"No." Tracey said calmly. "Whatever you need to do, you do here."
"Tracey, we are not doctors, just paramedics, and if you do want to save your sons' life, we need to transport him to the hospital where the professional doctors can help him, okay?" Brett tried to reason with the mother.
"I said, no. That is final. And don't question anything else, don't give me alternatives or try to talk me out of this, because I am not changing my mind. Fix him. Or you both will regret it."
"Tracey..." Dawson started but didn't finish as there was a blinding light coming from the shotgun in Tracey's hands and a huge, loud bang. Dawson and Brett took cover on the floor and only a few seconds later did Dawson feel a sticky, wet substance coming from the side of her abdomen. She looked up at Brett and noticed Brett was trying to talk to her, but Dawson couldn't hear anything. All she felt was pain.
"Dawson! Look at me, you're going to be alright, okay? Just stay awake for me." Brett said with tears escaping from her eyes. Brett went over to their medical bag and took out gauze and pads to try and pack Dawson's wound, but as Brett got to Dawson, who was lying on the floor, struggling to breathe, Brett felt the nozzle of the shotgun at her head.
"Don't help her. Help him. If you don't, I will not hesitate to shoot you in the head, and then I will shoot your partner. Is that what you want?" Tracey said calmly.
All Brett could do was shake her head 'no'.
"Okay, drop the pads from your hands," Brett hesitated, looking her partner in the eyes. Dawson just smiled up at Brett saying, 'it's okay, do what she says, I'll be fine.'
Brett couldn't stop muttering apologies to Dawson as she dropped the gauze from her hands and walked over to Billy, still muttering apologies.
"Be quiet." Brett stopped muttering. "Now, fix him." Tracey ordered, as she went over to Dawson and tied her to a metal pillar with cuffs. Why she originally had the cuffs there, she did not know. Once she was done tying Dawson up, Tracey stood next to Dawson pointing the gun at Dawson's head.
"Chop, chop."
Brett started work by putting in IV tubes and pulling other equipment out, she had no idea what she was going to do, but she knew she had to stall, at least until help came. How long that was? She didn't know.
20 minutes must have passed, and Brett was still at the same place, fiddling with tubes and wires, stalling.
"What are you doing?" Tracey asked.
"I'm, um, I'm just checking his breathing, heartbeat, blood pressure, I need to know the basics before doing anything to Billy." Brett said.
15 minutes passed.
"So? Do you know how to fix him yet?" Tracey asked, starting to get impatient.
"No, not yet."
"You know, I really hope you're not stalling."
"Wha-no! No, I'm not!" Brett said defensively, trying her best to lie, everyone at the house knew she sucked at lying, hopefully Tracey didn't know too.
"Huh, cuz if you were, it would be bad for your friend over here."
Brett look at Dawson and noticed she was limp, breathing shallow and eyes closed.
"Dawson! Dawson look at me, keep your eyes open, please." Brett pleaded.
"Do you want to know what I would do to your friend if you don't fix my son?" Tracey sneered.
No. Brett really didn't want to know if she was being completely honest.
When Brett didn't answer, Tracey took something out from her belt and continued talking, "If you don't help Billy, this will happen-"Tracey held a knife in her hand and crouched by Dawson and stabbed her in the shoulder, then the leg, then the other leg.
Both Brett and Dawson screamed.
"NO! Stop! STOP IT! Okay! Just STOP!" Brett screamed out.
Tracey looked over to Brett, "Understand now?"
"Yes. I'll fix your son."
"Good."
The last thing Dawson heard was Brett saying 'sorry' for the hundredth time before darkness surrounded Dawson.
BACK AT FH 51
Casey and walked out into the kitchen and looked around. A confused expression on his face.
"Dawson and Brett come back yet?" Casey asked his guys.
"No, Casey. Still out." Herrman replied.
"What? Still on the call they had this morning?" Casey asked.
"Think so."
Casey thought for a minute. He had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.
Casey buzzed his radio, "51 to Maine, can you please send the location for ambulance 61."
"Maine to 51. 61 ambo still at call location, 125 Wiltshire Avenue."
"Copy that."
He looked around at his guys, just then Severide and squad walked in, alongside Chief Boden who just came back from a call.
"What's up, Case?" Severide asked, noticing the expression on Casey's face.
"Dawson and Brett are still not back from the call they had this morning. Maine said their ambo is still on location." Casey looked at Boden before Boden bellowed, "Alright, Truck, Squad, lets check 61's last known."
All the guys and Kidd got into their designated trucks and drove off. The feeling of worry never once leaving Casey, with every second he prays that his wife is okay.
Driving down the street of Wiltshire Avenue, Otis and Casey spots the ambo first.
Once Truck, Squad and Battalion is parked they knock on the door of 125. There was nothing.
"Dawson! Brett! Do you copy?" Boden bellowed in his radio. No reply.
"Dawson! Brett!" Matt yelled as he knocked on the door. No reply.
He looked at Boden, both noticing the broken glass of the door.
"Take it down." Boden ordered. With a strong kick, Casey kicked the door down and stalked in, Severide, Boden and the rest of 51 at his heels. Gabby was here. He knew it.
Down at the basement, both Brett and Tracey heard the door and footsteps, Brett knew it was 51, but she knew they wouldn't find the hidden door in time. Gabby didn't have time. Brett had to do something, had to make noise. She looked around and noticed the shotgun on the wall beside an unconscious Gabby as Tracey wondered off to the window to see what was going on. This was her chance.
Brett took a deep breath and ran for the shotgun, the same moment Tracey turned around. Brett held up the shotgun at Tracey and they stood there, before Brett hesitantly pointed the gun at the wall away from anyone and pulled the trigger, resulting in a loud bang that she knew for a fact the guys' heard.
"You BITCH!" Tracey yelled and lunged at Brett. They both fought over the gun and after 30 seconds Tracey got the upper hand and hit Brett in the face with the end of the shotgun.
BANG!
"What the hell was that?" Herrman yelled out.
"It came from below us." Kidd answered.
"Did anyone see a door to the basement?" Boden yelled.
"Here! I got something!" Mouch called out.
Casey, Severide and Boden looked at the nearly hidden door for a second before Casey opened it and walked down, everyone else after him.
As Casey entered the basement, he stopped short when he was faced with a woman holding a shotgun at him, them. He saw Brett groaning on the floor, bleeding. He saw a teenage boy in a dentist chair, not breathing and then he finally saw Gabby, tied to a pillar, covered in blood. Her blood. She was barely breathing and unconscious.
"Gabby." Casey whispered in both relief and fear as he saw his wife.
"GET OUT! NOW!" The woman yelled.
"Ma'am. Put the gun down." Casey tried to reason with her.
"I SAID GET OUT!" Tracey bellowed moving the shotgun, emphasising the point hat she had a gun.
"Ma'am, if you put the gun down, we could help you." Boden tried in a calm voice.
"Help me? Help me? Ha! I am not the one that needs the help! Billy is!" Tracey motioned over to Billy, the boy in the chair.
The firefighters didn't know what to say or do. All Casey wanted to do was run over to his wife, hold her, make sure she was alright.
During the moment of silence from everyone, not knowing what to do, finally someone spoke up.
"Hey! Tracey!" Brett called out. Tracey turned to look at Brett and her eyes widened.
Brett was standing over Billy, holding the knife Tracey used to stab Dawson with against Billy's neck.
"Drop the gun Tracey." Tracey stood in shock but didn't drop it.
It was all the guy's needed, Tracey distracted, for them to lunge at her and disarm her, pinning her to the ground.
"Not my boy! Don't hurt my boy!" Tracey cried out as Boden radioed in for the police to come and take Tracey away.
As some of the guys were preoccupied with Tracey, Casey ran over to Gabby.
"Gabby, baby. It's Matt. Can you hear me? Come on baby. Open your eyes for me. I'm here now." Matt pleaded. He reached behind her and cut her loose from the cuffs and only just noticed the extent of her injuries. He pressed two fingers on her neck only to find a faint pulse.
"Brett! Brett!" Casey called Brett over to Gabby.
"Dawson?" Brett looked at Gabby and told Casey to bring the medical kit over.
"ETA 5 mins on an ambulance."
"We don't have 5 mins, Chief, she's bleeding out." Brett sobbed out, along with Casey.
"Okay, Cruz you're driving the ambo, Brett, you're dealing with Dawson, truck and squad follow." Boden ordered.
"Chief-"Casey started.
"I thought it was self-explanatory that you were going with your wife." Boden interrupted.
Casey gave a nod of gratitude to Boden before helping to load Gabby into the back of the ambo.
3 minutes of Cruz's Fast and Furious style driving later, they were at Chicago Med, greeted by Maggie who paged Dr. Rhodes and Dr. Choi.
"It's Gabby, she was shot and stabbed several times." Brett said as they rolled Gabby into an ER room, handing her over to the doctors. A couple minutes later, the second ambulance rolled Billy in.
"16 year old. Malnourished, dehydrated-" Brett couldn't hear the rest as Dr Halstead took over.
It was 45 minutes since they brought Gabby in. Casey never stopped pacing. Brett never stopped looking at the clock. Stella sat leaning her head on Severide's shoulder, silent tears falling down her cheeks.
Silence. Everyone was silent.
Another 30 minutes passed, and Dr. Rhodes and Dr. Choi came out. Everyone stood up, eagerly awaiting the news, Matt at the front.
"Gabby suffered from severe blood loss, but we managed to sort that out. The wounds from the bullet and the stab wounds will scar. But apart from that she is stable and in ICU." Dr. Rhodes update the team.
"Can I see her?" Matt asked eagerly.
"Yes, 1 or 2 of you for now only." Dr. Choi replied.
Casey made his way down before stopping and looking back.
"Brett. She will want to see you. Make sure you're alright when she's awake."
Brett didn't hesitate before following.
Casey stopped in the doorway of the room and gasped. Tubes. Wires. Machines. They were everywhere. He couldn't stop the tears from falling as he rushed over to Gabby's side, took her hand and stroked her hair.
Brett went to the other side of Gabby. Looking at her, not believing what they had just been through. Brett let out a sob.
"Hey. Thank you. For what you did down there. If it weren't for you, Brett- "
"Casey, you never have to thank me for helping Gabby. She is one of my best friends." Brett replied with a soft smile.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
That is the sound that awoke Gabby up. It was loud. It was annoying. She just wanted it to stop.
Beep. Beep.
Gabby let out a cry of annoyance and the beeping continued.
"Gabby." She heard someone say her name, but it sounded so far away.
"Gabby?" She heard again. The voice familiar.
"Gabby, baby." Matt? That's Matt's voice. Matt.
"Matt?" Gabby managed to whisper out and finally opening her eyes only to see a very worried Matt looking right back at her, relief flooding him.
"Matt?"
"Gabby! Gabby! You're alright! You're okay! God, you scared me!" Matt bent over and kissed her forehead.
"Matt." And then she remembered. All at once. The call. Tracey. Billy. Brett. Brett!
"Brett! Is she-"Gabby started, worried.
"I'm right here. I'm okay." Brett appeared in her line of vision. She looked fine. Apart from the bruise on her face and a busted lip.
"You're face…" Gabby croaked out.
"Hey, I look better than you right now." All three of them laughed, Gabby winced.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." Brett called out.
Gabby looked Brett in her eyes, "Stop apologising." Remembering if she were to have died, hearing Brett saying 'sorry' would've been the last thing she would have heard. "Don't ever say you're 'sorry' again, okay?" Gabby continued to look in Brett's eyes. Brett's eyes softened, understanding why and nodded.
"Tracey? Billy?" Gabby asked.
"Tracey is arrested." Matt answered.
"Yeah, and Billy is here. He was malnourished and dehydrated, but once he is better, they'll have to take him to a home where proper carers can look after him." Brett answered.
All Gabby could do was nod.
Brett looked over at the married couple and excused herself, knowing they needed a moment.
It only took 10 seconds after Brett left for Gabby to start crying. Her sobs escaped her unwillingly and once she started, she couldn't stop. It kind of reminded her of when she lost their baby. That thought made her cry harder.
She cried for several minutes before taking a drink of water and catching her breath.
She looked up at her husband and he looked down at his wife. They both kissed each other reverently. She nearly died and he nearly lost his wife. They embraced in a hug for a few minutes before a knock on the door broke them apart.
Gabby looked up and saw the whole of 51 there, with flowers, cards and cake. In front of them was Antonio with tears in his eyes. They all walked in, embracing her one by one. Gabby couldn't help but smile. She was okay. Alive. Surrounded by the people she loved.
Her family.