Hello everyone, welcome to another story!

Why a new story when I didn't even update the ones still in progress? Simply because some people asked me to write something new :D

SO, this story is based on the sixteenth episode of season five, with the whole hostage situation. Fortunately, Kelly had managed to tackle Dog (I think it's his name in this episode, isn't?) on the truck before he could shoot, deviating the trajectory of the bullet to the right and a little up (phew!). Casey was lucky, right? He could have thanked his brother for that one!

After having watched this episode (without ANY subtitles *proud of it*), I told myself "and what would have happened if Kelly didn't arrive in time to deviate the shot fired?"

Hence this story, obviously ^^ I decided then to write down a short multi-chapter story (I try to create some suspense, you know?), even though a large part of the scenes are based on the episode itself (a big part of the dialogue is). Of course, some things won't happen like in the episode, I will create new dialogues and a part of the story (it's an alternative from this sixteenth episode, so...)

I hope that you will like this story (and before you could put it on a review: YES, I like hurting Casey, when the show doesn't, it is SOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD!) and that you will leave me plenty of reviews after having read it!

OH, one more thing: I decided to not use any translator or any help, only my brain for this story. There will be plenty of mistakes (tipping, spelling, etc), so please, be kind with me: I am not a natural English woman (For those who don't know, I am French).

And of course, I do not own any characters of the #OneChicago franchise

Chapter one

All the members of Firehouse 51, whether there were firefighters or civilians, had been assembled in the common room. Lieutenant Matthew Casey was sitting on one of the chairs, close to the swinging doors giving way to the apparatus floor. Christopher Herrmann was on another chair, on the right of his lieutenant. Randy McHolland, called Mouch by everyone, was on the right of the couch, with Tony Ferraris on his left, then Capp. Joe Cruz and Brian Zvonecek, nicknamed Otis, were also sitting on chairs, between the couch and one of the tables used to eat or relax. The chief of the firehouse, Wallace Boden, was standing between his men and the members of the gang who had taken them as hostages, ready to mediate between them. It was HIS firehouse, HIS men after all. And those guys, they were neighbors, and as a safe place for all, he had to welcome them as best as possible, despite the tension between the two groups. Stella Kidd had been brought to the member who had been injured during the shooting with the other gang that was looking for them over the neighborhood, because he had taken a bullet in his abdomen, and it was still inside. The rest of the staff, mainly civilians but also the firefighters of Engine 51, had been led to sit on the tiled floor of the common room, under the kitchen worktops. As for Lieutenant Kelly Severide, he was still wandering around the corridors of the firehouse. Everyone, except the members of the gang, knew that he had escaped their vigilance and that he had to find a way to get out of the firehouse to call 911 and explain that there was a hostage situation. Or at least try to reach one of the trucks to have a radio and call Main. Against all odds and to his big surprise, Kelly managed to circumvent the common room and pass over one of the armed guy completely undetected, to get on the apparatus floor and enter one of the trucks; his truck. Slowly, he sat with the least noise and grabbed the radio, watching all around him one more time. He thought for a moment, wondering if, as a precaution, some radios were still on and if he could get caught and heard by everyone. But it was unlikely given the situation because all the calls were heard by the battalion chiefs and the lieutenants, it could become disturbing very quickly. He took a deep breath, his gaze moving everywhere, especially on his left to see if someone was moving inside the common room, and he finally turned on the radio.

"Squad three to Main. I have a 10-1, hostage situation in Quarters. I repeat: 10-1, I need an emergency assistance."

"Copy Squad three, dispatching units immediately", Main answered almost immediately. "Are you in a safe place?"

Once again, his gaze moved, trying to know if he could find a safe place the time for the situation to calm down, but no place was safe with armed gang members, particularly when it was one of the most dangerous in the area.

"Not quite."

"Can you get out?"

Again, Kelly analyzed the whole situation. He could get out, obviously, but he had to get around everybody again to go out through the little door in the back of the firehouse, but it was a risky move. Moreover, he couldn't leave his colleagues behind him, at the mercy of those crazy guys. For him, it was out of question to get out of there.

"I can, but I'm not leaving anyone here".

"Okay, stay where you are then, units are en route".

"Copy".

He cut off the radio and put it back in place. A sharp noise came to his ears at this precise moment. A gigantic thrill ran down his spine while the armed guys got active; the metallic store had been activated, and he had done nothing. Quickly, he turned, remembering that the two paramedics were on a call and hadn't been warned about the situation here yet.

"No, no, no, no!" he said inaudibly.

He so saw the ambulance advancing towards the firehouse, and for a moment, Kelly froze. He didn't know what to do anymore. Warn them about the danger to get back in here, risking to get caught by these crazy guys, or stay safe, hoping that Main could warn them in time about what was going on. No, he didn't have to worry about it, the dispatch woman from Main was good, that was why she was associated with the second shift of Firehouse 51; it was because it was the most active firehouse, but mainly because with time, a trust situation had settled between the firefighters and this woman they didn't know. He had to trust her once again to warn his two friends. He decided to stay where he was, let this woman to her job and hope that everything would be okay. Inside the ambulance, everything was as usual, but the fact that the stored were closed intrigued them because the firefighters only closed them when they had a weather alert, a problem with the neighborhood or sometimes during the turnover. Maybe that during their call, there had been an umpteenth shooting in the neighborhood, and for safety, Main had asked them to close the stores? The radio crackled while Gabriela Dawson, the driver started to go down the alley. Maybe Main warning them?

"Main to 61, do NOT return to Quarters. Hostage situation in progress."

The two women looked at each other, speechless. Apart from the low stores, there was nothing abnormal at all. Plus, the two girls didn't see anything weird that could tell them that there was indeed a hostage situation in progress. Dawson decided to turn on her radio to inform Main what she was seeing.

"Main, we're at Quarters, we don't see anything."

"Dawson…", Her colleagues Sylvie Brett called.

She just had noticed some movement between the trucks; someone was running in their direction, making great gestures. This person advanced a little more, and the two women could distinguish Matt, Gabby's husband. He had succeeded to push hard the man who seemed to be the leader of the armed group, worried about his wife after hearing the opening stores. Battalion Chief Boden had tried to follow him, but he was soon put down by the same gang leader. The latter ordered him to get back with the others, in view of one of his men while he was going to personally take care of Lieutenant Casey. The latter had stopped in his race, closing the stores again so that the firehouse could be isolated. In fact, he didn't want to involve his wife in this whole masquerade, and he preferred to see her live, even if he had to sacrifice his life, rather than knowing her in danger. It was beyond his strength. Moreover, his body had almost acted against his will; he knew that by doing this, he was at least likely to be beaten by the hostage takers, but watching over the safety of the loved one, it was worth every hit of the world. But something behind Matt scared Gabby even more; another man had entered into the apparatus floor and he seemed dangerous. And as Matt stared at her, the person behind him drew his gun and targeted Matt.

"Matt!" Gabby couldn't help but scream.

Her relief was partial when she and Sylvie saw Severide rush to the armed man in hope to disarm the man in time and avoid Matt from possibly taking a bullet. But the worst came; Kelly didn't arrive in time, not before the shot. He managed to push the armed man against Truck 81, while Dawson had opened the door of the vehicle and was half out, ready to run to her husband and help him. But the stores were now almost completely lowered, and she could do nothing; she had to trust Kelly to save Matt. She came in again and closed the door, her hands trembling on the wheel and she put it in a safe place, waiting for the arrival of the police units and probably SWAT.

"61 to Main, 10-1, shots fired to 51! I repeat, shots fired! Gunshot victim inside!" Sylvie Brett screamed on her radio while Gabby was putting the ambulance on the side of the firehouse, and while Matt was still on the ground.

"He shot him! Is he dead? Was he moving?" Gabby asked her colleague, very worried and ready to cry, shocked of having seen the blood of her husband flow.

"I don't know, it happened so fast!"

Even Sylvie was trying to keep her calm, but she couldn't. She also had seen this man shot Matt, she had seen his blood get out of his injury, right through his chest.

The first thing Matt ordered himself to do was to get down on the ground at the hearing of the detonation. His maximal concentration was directed to Gabby, his wife, and nobody else. He wanted her to be safe, far from here. It was something reassuring him. And within seconds, his relief turned to terror at the shot fired, and this fear he couldn't describe soon changed into pain. An atrocious pain filling his rib-cage, burning as ever. He had burns, as every firefighter. But this one, it was much more intense, even more important and painful than any he had suffered. It was a low fire overwhelming his body, whose epicenter was located in the middle of his chest. Unable to move, he decided to fake death for a moment, in order to try to overcome the pain. Damn, it was hard to breathe! Was he even breathing? He didn't even know. Was his breathing painful, or it was something else? No, he was sure that his breathing wasn't working. Was he forcing himself to not take a deep breath, scared to suffer more? Nothing for sure. Why holding his breath? Was it because it hurt? Because he was afraid? And then, something warm flowed on him, his clothes became wet quickly, the pain increased with this situation. It was a terrible pain; he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, but it would mean lose his energy, breathe and suffer. In the distance, he could hear two people fight hard. Indeed, Kelly had managed to tackle the gunman to the ground and was trying to disarm him. He had stuck his gun, but he had failed to take it from him. He tried then to hit him; maybe he would drop it because of the impact of his fist on his face? Maybe he should hit his hand on the ground to possibly break his bones and release the gun? And suddenly, he stopped, feeling a metallic pressure on the back of his skull; another gun.

"Don't move!" he heard behind him.

This new man repeated this sentence at least three more times, and the man he was trying to disarm freed himself from his grasp while Kelly raised his hands to show that he was giving up. He was short of breath, but still up with his arm in hand, while Kelly was forced to stay on his knees.

"Thought you were a badass, huh?" he asked, visibly annoyed. "Let's see how tough you are now!"

In a split second, he received a well-placed kick. He didn't want to scream, but it was stronger than him. However, he held on, wanting to prove to these men that despite everything they could do to him, he would remain on his knees.

"Come on, I wanna see you step! Come on, bud!"

His only reward was to get hurt again; he received the right foot of the man he tried to disarm in his belly, right below his stomach and ribs. Even if he didn't see it, the second man tried to dissuade his friend. They didn't come here to create other problems, but to hide until it could be safe enough to get out of the firehouse and to escape to the other gang.

"Stop it, Dog!"

But he didn't; he continued to hit Kelly in the same place, challenging him to get up after this. He even spat on him, treating him just like trash. Fortunately, he didn't hit his ribs, but the pain was there. His stomach had been shaken up pretty badly, and a small acid rebound came tugging his throat, even if it dissipated quickly. He raised his head despite the pain, and in an instant, he no longer thought of the pain paralyzing him. No, he had seen something allowing him to regain strength instantly; Casey was still on the ground. He wasn't moving, his grey shirt as the lieutenant of Truck 81 was stained by the blood coming out of the wound the shot fired had left.

"Casey?"

No answer, no movement. Quite worrying when you knew the man.

"Casey!"