FracturedCan You Hear Me?
Casey just stared upward at the two squad men. Aware that his vision was blurring. He couldn't understand what Severide was even saying to him. Everything was still muffled except for the sound of his own harsh breaths. His head was throbbing fiercely and his chest was getting tighter and tighter.
Then he was blind again. The damn mask. Severide had put his mask back on. The oxygen was a welcome relief but now he couldn't see anything. And he still couldn't hear anything except strange noises. He still couldn't grasp where he was or what had happened to him. Was anyone else hurt? Thoughts were crashing into his head and vanishing just as quickly. He couldn't pin anything down. He couldn't think straight.
All of a sudden Casey felt himself being hauled to his feet. He let out a groan of pain but it was muffled and jumbled up with all the other sounds echoing around the inside of his head. His legs wouldn't take his weight and kept collapsing under him as he was moved
Left leg.
Right leg.
Left leg.
Right leg.
Concentrate he told himself. But he couldn't. If it weren't for the strong grip he felt on his arms hauling him forwards he would have fallen. Everything hurt. But if everything hurt, that must be good, right? He couldn't pick out one source of pain so he figured he wasn't seriously injured. But his mask was blinding him and he couldn't understand anything. He just couldn't work out what had happened and what the hell was wrong because something was definitely very wrong.
Left leg.
Right leg.
Left leg.
Right leg.
Severide and Capp each had one arm around Casey, and were taking nearly all of his weight as they pulled him out of the building and across to one of the waiting ambulances. Severide removed Casey's mask and oxygen tank and they lifted him onto the gurney.
"What we got, Lieutenant?" one of the paramedic's asked Severide.
"Matt Casey, truck lieutenant at 51," Severide told him. "He was covered in glass and debris... think the explosion threw him..."
"Ok, we got it Severide," the paramedic reassured him.
The paramedic pulled back one of Casey's now bruised eyelids and flashed a penlight into his pupil to check the reaction. He repeated it on the other eye and Casey tried to screw up his eyes to stop the intrusive piercing brightness.
"Lieutenant, can you hear me?" the paramedic was asking, making Severide's heart pound.
Casey's hand was still grasping Severide's arm. Why wasn't Casey responding to the question? Why wasn't he saying he was fine? Why was he so silent? Did he even realise he was out of the burning building and in the safety of the ambulance?
"Lieutenant, can you hear me?" the paramedic repeated, far louder this time.
Casey seemed totally disorientated, looking round the inside of the ambulance in a state of confusion that Severide had only once seen before. Blood was still pooling from his nose and thin trails of red ran from both ears down his neck. Head injury? Severide was asking himself. Damn it Casey. You have to be okay. You have to be.
"Casey?" Severide questioned loudly as he stepped in front of him, bending a little so he was eye level with him.
"What..?" Casey's expression was of utter trepidation, he seemed completely lost.
"Can you remember what hap..." one of the paramedics began to ask him, but he was cut off.
"Can't hear…" Casey just shook his head slightly. "It's just noise..."
Severide tried not to let his worry show, he gave Casey's arm a reassuring squeeze in the hope he'd understand that he had been understood.
The paramedics had begun to remove Casey's turnout gear, starting with his gloves and boots. But his jacket and pants had to be left alone. There were several large shards of glass which were clearly embedded in Casey's flesh and since they had no idea how deeply they had penetrated, they daren't risk disturbing them for fear they may be stopping Casey from bleeding out. His coughing was also getting worse and he was fetching up thick black sputum so they knew time was of the essence. They loaded him and left the scene. Leaving Severide behind with his heart in his throat.
The rush of movement around Casey was dizzying and he still couldn't hear anything properly as the paramedics tried to talk to him and ask him questions. They were exchanging concerned looks as they worked on him, clearly worried about his altered state. Casey wished Severide was there because he couldn't work out what the hell was going on. He was barely able to think. One moment he had been lying on the floor amid debris and fire and the next moment he was in an ambulance. And he knew Severide would know what was happening.
He felt pulling and tugging on this right arm as the paramedics cut away of his turnout jacket sleeve. Then the same on his left arm. Then a sharp sting as they inserted an IV into his arm. Casey tried to move. Tried to see what it was. But he couldn't move. Something was holding him down tightly. He gave up and sank down onto his back. That hurt a hell of a lot now. But so did everything else.
Suddenly a smiling face came into his field of vision and a scrap of paper was being held above him. He could see letters written on it but couldn't make sense of the words. His eyes wouldn't focus and the pain in his head was too bad. His throat hurt like hell. His chest was tightening and he started to cough.
Someone slipped something over Casey's bloodied face. It was familiar but he couldn't quite think what it was. Why the hell was everything so confusing? And fragmented? Why couldn't he move? And why wasn't Severide with him? And what the hell had even happened?
Casey tried to speak. But no voice would come out. No one noticed him. He reached up and pulled the mask to one side. "What happened?" he managed to croak out, his words echoed and clattered around inside his head.
The scrap of paper reappeared. Casey could see a word written there but his brain couldn't put the letters in an order he could understand. And the struggle to remain conscious grew too much for him.
As they trundled Casey into the ER department of Lakeshore hospital, one of the paramedics was relaying information to the medical team who were taking over his care. "Got a firefighter, Lieutenant Matt Casey, 33, thrown by a gas explosion, blood in ears and nose, and he's unable to hear. Resps rapid, coughing up black sputum, O2 stats dropping. Left quadrant tender and swollen. In and out of consciousness. He's had five of morphine."
"Ok. Get him into Trauma Three!" the ER doctor ordered.
Severide was pacing up and down. Up and down. All of 51 were sitting in the ER waiting area now but no one dared go near him or stop him. The rigs were outside the hospital. Everyone was still in their turnout gear. All were waiting for news on Casey.
Severide was agitated. Fuck this was bad. Casey couldn't hear anything. Maybe it was just from the explosion. From what Mills had told him, Casey had pushed him out of the way, placing himself in the direct path of the explosion. Damn Casey for being so selfless. He always put himself last. Damn Casey for making him worry so much. What if he really did have a serious head injury though? Severide was convinced he had. There had been so much blood. His boy's blood. His boy. Had he really just called Casey that? Casey was his boy though. At least that's what Severide wanted him to be. Now he may never get the chance to tell him he loved him. What if his head was so badly injured that he needed surgery? What if... what if he died? God. No. Casey couldn't die. He was Casey. He always made it through, right? But what if he made it and he had lost his hearing permanently? No. It would only be for a while. Probably already worn off. Casey would already be awake and insisting he was fine and didn't need to be in the hospital. Yeah. That's what would be happening right now. He wouldn't need any surgery. He'd be fine. A headache maybe, but nothing major.
"Matt Casey's family?" a male voice broke into Severide's whirling thoughts. He turned to see a doctor standing there in blood spattered scrubs. Immediately he strode up to the man and others gathered around, anxious for news of their truck lieutenant.
"How is he?" Severide questioned.
"He has a severe concussion and his eardrums have been perforated..." the doctor began.
"That permanent?" Severide asked.
"We don't think so. The holes are small and should heal on their own. He should be able to hear more clearly in a few days. Total hearing should return eventually," the doctor was as reassuring as he could be at this stage. "We will have to admit him, his spleen is swollen and needs close monitoring, and there is some minor smoke inhalation. He has a lot of bruising and some lacerations which need cleaning up and stitching."
"And his head's ok?" Severide questioned. Casey had been so confused and disorientated at the scene that he was sure he must have a head injury of some sort.
"Like I said, he has a severe concussion. Any knock to the head is serious but his scans were clean so that's good. But we'll keep him monitored in case there's any change."
"Can we see him?" Severide was getting impatient to see Casey.
"Family only..." the doctor's voice was almost questioning.
"He hasn't any family," Severide replied quickly, "Well, none to speak of..." Family history had estranged Casey from his family a long time ago and Severide didn't even know where they were anyway. He very much doubted Casey did either. "I'm his emergency contact. I can see him, right?" If he couldn't he would barge his way forcibly into Casey's room when they had finished treating him. He couldn't stand to be away from him another minute.
Fortunately for Severide he wouldn't need to barge or force his way anywhere. The doctor nodded and motioned him to follow. "I'll take you to see him."
Oh God. Casey was such a mess. Judging by the amount of bruising that covered his whole body, Severide was surprised that nothing was broken. He stood back out of the way as he watched the nurse working on him. Stitching the wounds. Wiping away the blood still trickling from his nose and ears. So much blood.
"He's had morphine, but he's awake if you want to let him know you're here," she turned and told Severide.
He was shocked at what she told him. He thought Casey would be unconscious but he supposed they couldn't just knock him out. But he was awake. But would Casey want him here though? Maybe he should just leave. It would be like he was never there. And Casey would never know anyway. He was too out of it by the look of things. He'd made sure that Casey was still alive. He'd made sure he was still in one piece. That was enough for friends to do, right? Thing is, they weren't just friends, were they? And Severide did want more. And every fibre of his being was telling him to go up to Casey. To hold his hand. To tell him he loved him.
Damnit. His legs were already moving. He was following his heart and not his brain. Or perhaps he was following both? Hell, he didn't know what it was he was doing. He just knew he wanted to get close to Casey.
"Hey..." he began. He shook his head. Idiot. Casey couldn't hear anything. ln fact his eyes were barely open so he probably wouldn't see Severide either. Must be on some good drugs then. Casey didn't flinch as the nurse pulled needle and thread through his flesh. Definitely good drugs, Severide decided.
Casey's racoon eyes looked up at Severide, but he wasn't sure if Casey actually sensed he was there or not. So instead of speaking, instead of saying 'I'm sorry about this morning Matt,' he just gently took hold of Casey's hand, watchful of one of the IV lines that were feeding who knows what into his veins. He was too out of it to talk to, even if he could have heard Severide anyway.
Severide stood there for a while holding Casey's hand. Until Boden appeared outside the room. Time to get back on shift at 51. Severide wanted to protest. To tell the chief he couldn't leave Casey on his own. But in reality he knew Casey would be fine. He shouldn't be making a big deal out of it. But his heart was screaming at him. Telling him to stay with Casey. And it broke when he had to walk away.
TBC