Pause
Water
A light blinded Casey's eyes. It took him a while to realise he was outside in the rain, wearing only socks and his pyjama pants.
"Are you all right, sir?"
Casey gazed at the man standing in front of him.
"Sir?" the voice came again, the light flashed in front of his eyes once more.
"Sorry… what?" Casey spoke finally, realising there was actually two men in front of him, two police officers.
"What's your name?"
"Uh… Matt Casey…"
"Do you know where you are, Mr Casey?" the police officer asked him
"Erm… no…"
"Where do you live?" the man continued.
Casey answered the man, still confused as to why he was outside in the rain.
"You're only three blocks away, we'll give you a ride back, all right?"
Casey nodded numbly and one of the officers physically helped him into the back of their squad car.
Severide was woken by the police officers knocking at the door. The last thing he'd expected to see was Casey standing between two police officers, wearing only pyjama pants and socks.
"Matt?" Severide began, not over the shock of finding him standing at the door. "God… are you all right? I thought you were in bed…"
"Found him wondering three blocks away," one of the officers explained.
"What were you doing, Matt?" Severide asked him, concerned etched across his features.
Casey just shook his head, his damp hair dripped down his forehead.
"Looks like he might have been sleepwalking," the officer suggested.
"Well, thanks for bringing him home," Severide responded. The police officers left and Severide looked Casey up and down. "You must be freezing… come inside. Matt, come on…"
Casey was gazing at him, not moving at all.
"Matty…" He took Casey's arm and led him inside, closing the door whilst Casey remained where Severide had left him.
An hour later, Severide sat down with a heavy sigh. He was at a loss. He'd just helped him to shower, physically having to remove his pyjama pants and boxers, then washing him, getting himself soaked in the process, before drying Casey off with a large towel, redressing him and putting him back to bed. Severide didn't know what to do anymore, Casey needed help, much more help than he could give him, he needed professional help.
In the morning, Casey appeared from his bedroom, Severide wasn't sure he'd even get out of bed today so he was pleased to see him getting a large glass of orange juice. He didn't know how to approach what had happened last night but he knew they needed to talk about it, although it was clear Casey was planning on ignoring him as he started heading back to his bedroom with the drink in his hand.
"Are we gonna talk about last night?" Severide spoke up, stopping Casey in his tracks.
Casey just shot him a cold look.
"Matt, I'm worried," he continued.
"I'm fine," Casey retorted, in a tone that was anything but fine.
"You're fine? How are you fine? I had to wash you last night, and it's not the first time…"
"Sorry," Casey muttered, putting the glass of juice down on the side.
"I don't need an apology, I just… you're not fine… don't you want to go back to work?"
Casey just shrugged.
"Matt?"
"I don't care," he responded honestly.
"You don't care?"
He shook his head.
"I'm not sure that's true, Matt," Severide spoke.
"It is… and it scares me. Firefighting has always been something I've loved, being able to help people… but I don't care anymore…"
"Are you… are you worried, maybe, because that guy got away? That he could come back? Maybe if you spoke to the police again, you'd feel better, safer, want to go back to work… I'm not gonna let that guy get to you again though, and I don't think he's coming back…"
"Coming back?" Casey repeated.
"The guy who hurt you," he said, frowning a little.
"Oh… yeah… it's nothing to do with that," Casey mumbled, shaking his head.
"How is this nothing to do with that?"
"It was just a thing that happened, I'm over it," Casey responded.
"You're clearly not over it," he retorted.
"How can you stand here and say what I'm over with or not?" Casey questioned, voice heated now.
"I can't, I'm sorry, I'm just worried."
"You already said," Casey replied scathingly.
"Look, why don't we sit down," he suggested. "I don't think it's healthy to just go back to bed right now."
Resigned, Casey let out a soft sigh, grabbed his drink and headed over to the couch.
Severide followed him and sat down, leaving space between them.
"I'm sorry about last night," Casey spoke before Severide could direct the conversation.
"You don't need to be sorry, if anything you could do with a 'I'm sorry' jar…"
"A what?"
"Like a swear jar?"
"Oh, right, sorry…"
Severide let out a short chuckle. "See?"
"My mom was crazy," Casey announced suddenly.
"Erm… What?" he questioned, not sure where Casey was going now.
"Maybe I'm crazy too… she wasn't always like it…" Casey spoke quietly.
"What are you talking about?"
"She's schizophrenic, was always off her meds," Casey explained.
Severide was silent, taking in what Casey had said, he'd never mentioned it before, Severide had never suspected anything like it. "Doesn't mean you are… I know you're not," he told Casey.
"There's something wrong with me though," Casey continued.
"Matt, you were kidnapped, beaten and almost killed," he retorted.
"I was fine, now… now, I'm hearing voices…"
It took Severide a moment to figure out how to respond to Casey's confession. "That… that must be really frightening for you."
Casey just nodded.
"You never told me about your mom before? I can't imagine what that would have been like to grow up with," Severide continued, not wanting Casey to stop talking now.
"She was delusional, she shot dad," he explained, looking ahead, not wanting to see Severide's face as he delved deeper into his past.
"I always assumed your dad was…"
"Abusive?" Casey shook his head as he spoke.
"Yeah…"
"He… he had issues too, he never hit me, not without a good reason," he explained.
Severide cleared his throat. "These voices, Matt, what do they say?"
Casey looked even further away, shaking his head again.
"You can tell me," Severide urged.
"I'm crazy," he responded, still shaking his head.
Severide shrugged. "If you were crazy, you'd think you weren't."
"Really?"
"I'm no expert but, I know that much," Severide replied, offering him a small smile. "What do the voices say?"
Casey leaned over so he could speak quietly into Severide's ear. "They tell me to… hurt myself, to hurt you and everyone else… that's the only way they'll stop. They hate me, they say I should have burned. I should have burned."
Severide sat back, unable to respond.
"Sorry… sorry… I keep trying to just not think, and sometimes everything just disappears… time just goes… like… like last night, I don't remember anything… and I don't remember most of the hospital stay, I don't remember getting home, I don't remember what happened to me, and I don't want to remember."
"Ok, that's… a lot to be dealing with, and frightening," Severide spoke, repeating his earlier comment. "I'm glad you've told me."
"It is frightening," he admitted. "And… I think I'm glad I told you… I think… just, please don't hate me too."
"I don't hate you, far from it," Severide insisted, putting a gentle hand on Casey's arm.
Casey nodded, biting his lower lip, trying to stop emotions from pouring out. "I'm going back to bed," he said as he stood up, Severide's hand fell away.
"Ok, I'm not going out so, if you need me, I'm here."
Despite Casey's confession the next few weeks continued in the same way as they had since Casey had been dragged out of the fire, barely clinging onto life. Severide couldn't get him to seek any professional help. He was at the point now where he was considering getting Casey admitted to a hospital himself. Casey was only getting worse.
Severide had his head in his hands, sitting at his desk in his quarters at the firehouse, when Boden knocked and entered. "The incident report from your last shift, it's incomplete," he said, putting the folder down in front of his squad lieutenant.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Chief," Severide responded wearily, wiping his hands across his face.
"Late night?"
"Erm… yeah," he admitted.
"Casey?" Boden presumed. He knew his truck lieutenant was struggling, he'd not responded to any of his phone calls or messages so he'd decided to give him some space, wait for Casey to come to him, but he didn't like being kept out of the loop.
"Yeah," he said, nodding.
"I've tried calling him, he hasn't responded," Boden went on.
"He won't," he replied, shaking his head. "Doesn't want anything to do with the CFD," he added.
"His reasoning?"
Severide shrugged. "I don't know exactly. He's really struggling though, and I am too. He needs help. Almost called an ambulance last night…"
"What's going on, Kelly?" Boden implored.
"He needs help," he responded quietly. "I'm not the right person to help him, to an extent I can but, Chief, he really needs to see a doctor."
"What's happening?"
He turned his head to look at Boden. "He's hearing voices, he's having catatonic phases, he's sleep walking. His mom… his mom is schizophrenic and he's worried he is too, so am I now he's told me… you knew?" he asked at the look on his chiefs face.
"About his mom, yes," Boden answered.
"But he… he never even told me until now," he said.
"He didn't want to tell me, after his mom was released from the hospital…"
"Hospital? She was in prison?" Severide questioned.
"No, she was in a secure psychiatric facility, she was doing well so they decided to put her on outpatient services," Boden told him.
"She killed his dad though," he stated, frowning.
"She was off her medication at the time apparently, she was released on parole because she was being cooperative and doing well, but it wasn't a smooth transition, Matt struggled with it, she was staying at his house…"
"Yeah, he told me that at least," Severide commented, a small sigh escaping his lips.
"Basically she got into some trouble and Matt needed to leave shift, it wasn't the first time so I wanted to know what was going on," Boden explained.
Disbelieving, Severide shook his head. "And he told you?"
"No, not right away, but in the end, he had to," Boden clarified.
"Do you know where his mom is now?" he asked.
"Half-way house, living with Matt wasn't going to work out, I think he felt very guilty about that," Boden answered.
"He feels guilty about everything…"
"I imagine he's avoiding professional help at all costs right now, but, Kelly, it sounds like he really needs it."
When Severide arrived home from his shift he headed straight into Casey's bedroom, the smell of urine hit him immediately, he flung open the curtains and cracked open the window. His task was waking Casey, it took a while and he was unresponsive even once he was conscious. He got him up, his body moving into any position Severide put him in, and he followed his instructions to walk. Severide then washed him, dressed him and sat him on the couch in the lounge before stripping the bed and changing the sheets.
He fed Casey, spooning the cereal into his mouth and instructing him to chew, more than half of it landed on his lap and dribbling down his chin.
"Sorry," Severide muttered as he wiped Casey's chin clean. He put the cloth down and sat back on his knees, perched and looking up at Casey. "We can't keep doing this, I know you can hear me, I don't think you'll remember though? But this isn't good, Matt, I can't help you…"
Severide sighed heavily and got to his feet, he really didn't know how long he could deal with this. He took his next shift off, realising he couldn't leave, and didn't want to leave Casey on his own. Casey was having one of his good days though, he was alert and even ate breakfast on the couch next to Severide.
"I was thinking, might be a good idea to get out of the apartment today… the reason I've taken the day off, well, it was a pretty rough shift the other day, think I need to clear my head," Severide told Casey, brightly, his own mood improved because Casey was awake and aware.
"Are you ok?" Casey asked him, concerned.
"I'm fine, everyone's fine," he responded, continuing the façade. "Just needed a little break. Thought it would be nice if we could do something together though."
"Sure, all right." Casey nodded.
"We could go for lunch? Just to our usual coffee place?"
"Erm… ok," Casey responded, a little more unsure now but wanting to please Severide.
They sat in the middle of the busy diner and their order was taken quickly, it took some prompting for Casey to order more than just a black coffee, in the end he'd chose the same lunch as Severide. They chatted whilst they waited for their food, but the conversation felt forced, Severide was leading it, trying to have a normal discussion, but nothing was normal anymore.
"This is all right, isn't it?" Severide asked him as he tucked into his lunch.
Casey nodded.
"Your food ok?"
Casey nodded again.
"I'm really glad you're here, really, this is nice," Severide continued.
Casey was no longer paying attention, he was looking over his left shoulder.
"Matt, talk to me," Severide urged.
He still wasn't listening to Severide though, he was too distracted.
"Matt," Severide spoke firmly, trying hard to regain Casey's attention. "Listen to me, focus on me, not anything else…"
Suddenly Casey was scrunching up his eyes and yelling. "Stop it! Stop it!"
"Matt… it's fine, it's fine, look at me!" Severide pleaded, fully aware of the unwanted attention Casey had attracted. His words were doing nothing to get through to him, Casey was now slamming his hands hard against his head. He had no choice but to stand up, and grab Casey's forearms from across the table.
Casey screamed.
He dashed out of the diner, off the sidewalk and straight into the oncoming traffic. He didn't get very far. As Severide reached the sidewalk there was a screech of brakes and a sickening thud as a van came to a halt. Casey's body was flung through the air like a doll.
"Call an ambulance!" Severide yelled out as he ran over to Casey's prone form, limbs at angles they shouldn't be.
The driver was getting out of the van. "I didn't see him, he just ran out…"
Severide was paying no attention to the man. He was focused on Casey. "Matty, Matt… can you hear me?"
There was blood running down Casey's face.
Severide tried to rouse him, rubbing his chest, trying not to move him too much. "Matt, come on… wake up… Matt…"
His persistence worked. Casey's eyes flickered and his mouth parted, uttering a small groan.
"Talk to me," Severide urged.
"Kel…"
"Yeah, I'm here. You're all right, ambulance is on the way, just need you to stay with me, all right?" Severide continued, his hand on Casey's cheek.
Casey could hear the sirens in the distance above the rest of the noise buzzing around his head. His chest hurt, his arms hurt, his legs hurt. Everything hurt and his head was throbbing madly. It felt like he'd been hit by a truck, and if he'd been more lucid he would have realised he had been hit by a van, whose driver was standing at the scene, still in shock.
Severide could do little as the ambulance finally arrived, the paramedics made a path through the crowd that had gathered.
Casey had fallen unconscious before the paramedics reached his side. It didn't take long to get him into the back of the ambulance, strapped to a back board, with his left arm in a splint, c-collar around his neck and IV cannula. Severide jumped into the back of the rig, quickly sitting as close to Casey as he could, holding his hand.
Hours had passed by, Severide was standing in the ER, waiting to see Casey, he'd been told his injuries weren't life threatening, broken arm and collarbone, more broken ribs, sprained wrist, concussion, heavy contusions and grazes over most of his body despite the layers of clothes he had been wearing.
"He's very lucky, we need to keep him here for twenty-four hours, but, Kelly, if you think he walked out into traffic on purpose we can put him on a seventy-two hour psych hold…" the doctor explained softly. Severide recognised her from Molly's, he'd spoken to her a few times in the past.
"Psych hold?" he repeated.
"Yeah, someone will come down and assess him, see if he's likely to hurt himself again," she responded.
"He didn't mean to do it… but…"
"What is it?" she urged.
"But maybe he did… I don't know… he's…" He shook his head as he trailed off.
"It's ok, Kelly, go on."
"He's been struggling recently... he's not been back to work since he was held captive. He's hearing voices, and he…" he paused, letting out a breath. Now he'd started it was easier to go on. "He's sleep walking, wetting the bed, catatonic at times, not eating, crying himself to sleep, or not sleeping. His mom is schizophrenic and when he's lucid he's begging me not to let anyone know any of this, I spoke to my Chief about it but I didn't follow his advice, I thought… I wanted to be able to help him on my own because he doesn't accept help easily. But me helping… well, that got him hit by a car today."
She nodded sympathetically. "It's understandable, he's your friend, you just want to do what's best for him."
"Yeah… will he know? Will he know that I caused the psych hold?"
"No," she told him.
"Ok. I think you should do it then."
A nurse walked up to them and spoke. "He's awake."
"Is he talking?" the doctor asked him.
The nurse shook his head. "Not to me, he's just looking up at the ceiling."
"We'll go in together, Kelly," the doctor said, leading the way to Casey's cubicle.
Severide remained back as the doctor examined Casey, she spoke to him but he said nothing in response, he didn't even acknowledge their presence. She turned her head to look at Severide. "Is this what he's like at home?"
He nodded. "Sometimes he'll follow instructions," he told her.
"Matt, can you lift your right arm?" she asked Casey.
Casey did as he was told, slowly lifting his right arm from his side.
"Thank you. You can put it down now," she spoke. She smiled at Casey and walked over to Severide, who'd not moved any closer to the bed.
"There's something really wrong with him? I should have made him go back to his doctor," Severide said, wracked with guilt.
"He's in the right place now, no point in blaming yourself," she responded. "We'll get him the help he needs."
Severide just nodded in response, eyes fixed on Casey, who had still not moved voluntarily. His whole body was bruised and battered, below the white gauze that was affixed to his forehead his left eye was swollen. There was cast on his right arm, his left wrist was secured in a blue brace and he was being given fluids and painkillers through the IV cannula in the crook of his arm. It hadn't been long since he'd last seen him in a hospital bed, unaware of the world, this time it felt even harder though.
TBC