1 | Holding On
"Don't let go" he whispers into the other man's shoulder, his fingers gripping at his jacket just a little bit tighter, taking both of them by surprise, tears still streaming down his cheeks.
"I won't, I'm right here," Trying to get over his momentary confusion, Severide says the first thing that comes to mind, unsure what Casey actually meant but swearing to the feeling of commitment, to be there for his friend in need.
"No," Casey shifts his head into the crook of Severide's neck, his arms wrapping tightly around him, "I mean, don't let go, ever." He's not sure what brought this on, well, except the radical feeling of falling as the doctor confirmed Hallie's death, but where did the courage to bluntly expose the way he feels towards this man, suddenly come from? He's been carrying it around for weeks, months even, silently convincing himself to get past it and never dare breath a word of it, especially not to Severide. And yet, suddenly, having Severide hold him in a hospital corridor, it's not a choice, but a pure need, a necessity, anguish, to ask Kelly to hold him, be with him and not let him fall. Good thing he has the excuse of a grieving fiancée as their entire shift have their eyes on them. Any weakness, any physical contact will be regarded merely as an understandable need for comfort. No one has to know it's not. For now, anyway. Grateful for his presence and silent understanding, Casey lets himself be held, not daring to raise his eyes to look at Severide's reaction.
Severide didn't say anything after that. He just stands there, holding Casey in his arms, figuring it was the grief talking, the pain and the confusion. But he can't avoid the questions coming to his head, as he feels Casey's tears fall on his neck, his ragged breathes tickling against his skin.
There was something new happening, he just couldn't put his finger on it. He'd never been Casey's shoulder to cry on, not literally anyway, never out in the open in front of everyone. Yes, when things got tough, they'd share a beer or a cigar, allowing each other to vent, give some perspective. They knew each other well enough so the occasional look or nod was enough to convey empathy or happiness for the other. Got out of enough sticky situations on the job that the occasional pat on the back or squeeze of the shoulder happened but it never really went further than that. But holding Casey, taking the moment to think about it, Severide can't really imagine House 51 without the blond-haired lieutenant of truck 81. He was usually so composed and in control. He cared for the people around him and he was an incredible firefighter and leader even under the worst of stress. But it dawns on Severide now, it's more than that; Personally, he realizes, he's lately been starting almost every shift looking to find Casey, just to get a sense that everything was right in the world. In his own times of need, he'd come to Casey for advice or just a steady ground to take a breath by. In fickle situations on calls, he always treasured Casey's opinion, giving him a sense of calm and reason when his own tendency to act first think later, sometimes became too dangerous. Casey, he suddenly realizes, is like a stable centre, he can teeter around, while his life roars around like an unhinged rollercoaster. And now, suddenly, the balance has changed, standing there, holding Casey in his arms, letting him catch his breath and let out his pain, he hears the man's plea as he asks him to be the tether to hold him in place. And though they're in a public place, and though he doesn't entirely know what this means or what Casey wants, it's new and exciting and overwhelming and he finds he's extremely interested, all of a sudden, to find out what it all could mean, and another rush of devotion surges through him and suddenly he has an answer. He tightens his hold around Matt, "As long as you want."
