Fix You Chicago: Part One
The journey home was a long drive, just as Severide had said, but it was made longer because they stopped a few times on the way back. Severide was concerned about Casey, his fever was no better, in fact he was sure it had worsened, and he'd thrown up his breakfast before they'd left, prompting him to refuse any food offered to him until what Severide thought would be their final pit stop on the journey back, he really wanted Casey to eat something.
At the dinner just of the I-90 Severide ordered two ice cream sundaes. He smiled when they were brought to their table. "Tuck in," he spoke, nodding at Casey encouragingly. His smile turned into a grin when Casey picked up the tall spoon and started to eat. "Knew you wouldn't be able to resist ice cream. It's going to be good to have you home."
"It won't all be good," Casey responded, concentrating on the sundae.
"No, it won't be… when did you last…"
Casey looked up. "Use?"
"Yeah, that…"
"Not long before I called you, maybe a day before," Casey answered
"That makes it almost a few days now? That's good..."
"I'm not clean, if I had heroin on me right now, I'd use it," he replied, as if he was talking about what they needed to get from the grocery store.
Severide swallowed, unsure how to react to Casey's tone.
"Sorry, it's to hard for you to talk about," Casey continued.
"No, well, yes," he responded.
"Most people I knew, we were all a mess, really. No one hid anything so I guess it's almost like normal conversation for me," Casey explained.
"I wouldn't even know where to get the stuff," Severide responded, scoffing.
Casey just smiled a little and turned his attention back to the sundae.
"Matt, what stopped you from…"
"Getting hold of some? Money."
"You could have taken money from my wallet in the hotel room," Severide told him.
"I told you, I never stole."
"How did you… how did you get money?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Without knowing his imagination had gone into overdrive, he wanted some clarity.
"I did some labouring work to start with, it all fell through though," Casey answered, shrugging a little, but deep down worried where to conversation was going. There was only so much he could let Severide know.
"You managed to get other work?"
"I had a shitty apartment for a while, well, a short while, but I lost that. You don't want to know how I got money. But I never stole. Never, Kelly," he insisted.
"I believe you, but you didn't always have money even…"
"What do you want me to tell you? Do you want every detail? Do you want to know what I did?"
"Only if you want to tell me," Severide answered.
"But if I say nothing your imagination will just fill in the gaps… maybe that is better, I don't know… this is all a bad idea..."
"Sorry, Matt. Just eat your ice cream."
"I'm not hungry," he responded, coughing as he sat back in his chair.
"Please…"
"Would you feel better if you knew?" Casey asked him in a hushed tone.
He smiled at him, Casey was trying his best right now and he could tell, even if he felt absolutely awful he was trying his best and it made Severide's heart swell. "I honestly don't know."
"Ok."
"If it makes a difference, I don't believe you ever hurt anyone, I know you wouldn't do that," Severide went on.
"I hurt you though," he said.
"You did, but unlike you; I forgive much easier."
"You're too good to me," Casey responded, offering him a smile.
"I care about you, which I think you will always think is a strange concept… to have someone care," he added softly.
"You drove almost five hours to find me… it's been so good to see you, more than good," Casey told him.
They arrived in Chicago, Casey followed Severide into the apartment building from the underground parking lot. Severide carried the bags, too concerned at how pale Casey had grown and how he was staggering as he walked.
"You moved," Casey commented as they entered the elevator.
"It's a better place, almost didn't though… in case you came back and wanted to find me…"
"I know your mobile number like the back of my hand."
"Yeah, I realised that you probably would, plus I'm still at 51 or you could asked the CFD where I was stationed or…"
"You thought a lot," Casey stated before coughing into the back of his wrist.
He nodded and they stepped out of the elevator. "You can have your own room," he told Casey as they walked along the corridor. "And I'll get you a key too."
"I don't need a key," he responded.
"I'd feel bad locking you up," Severide said, chuckling a little. "We'll set out some ground rules, I think that might be best, but first, let's just get you inside." He pulled his keys out and unlocked the door.
Casey followed him inside the apartment and glanced around. "Wow. It is nice."
"Thought you'd like it," he responded. "You look like you should sit down."
"Feel like I need to…"
"Make yourself at home. I'm gonna make a phone call," Severide told him.
"Kelly…"
"Uh huh?"
"Will you tell everyone?"
"Do you want me to?"
"No."
"I won't then, but, Matt, I'm not the only one who missed you…"
"I'm a disgraced CFD officer, I'm sure they didn't miss me for long," Casey spoke darkly.
"You were never disgraced, not in their eyes, or mine."
Severide took himself out of Casey's earshot and made a phone call, he spoke to Kendra at Lakeshore in confidence, asking what the best thing he could do for Casey was, in the end he and Casey met her in the ER the next day, it had taken some pesuading to get Casey into the car, nevermind into the hospital.
"Hi, Matt…" Kendra couldn't hide the stunned note from her voice but she continued. "I'm glad you're back. Follow me upstairs."
Casey remained silent, he was on edge, the way his eyes would wonder around, the way his body almost twitched, showed Severide that.
Kendra noticed too. "So, Matt, this doctor you're going see… he's a good friend and a good man. There's no judgement, nothing, all right? He's here to help you."
Casey just nodded a little. Severide was just impressed that he'd not made a run for it before now.
She continued to fill the silence. "He's looked over your medical file, I've spoken to him as well, but he doesn't know everything so he's going to be asking you some questions, and then you can see what the best way forward is."
The elevator stopped, the doors pinged as they opened. Severide and Kendra stepped out, Casey didn't move, rooted to the spot, lost in thoughts.
"Matt…"
"Yeah, sorry…" he muttered before starting to follow them out of the elevator and along the large corridor.
They were led to a door, Casey shuffled on his feet, Severide just smiled at him, trying to reassure him, although he was sure nothing would do that right now. The door opened after Kendra knocked, the doctor greeted them, welcoming them into the room. He had kind eyes, he was a similar age to Severide and wore no white coat, just pants and a sweater with a shirt collar poking out the top.
"It's nice to meet you, Matt. It is Matt, isn't it?"
Casey just nodded.
"Good, I'm Doctor Kreisler, or you can call me David if you'd prefer, and possibly ass behind my back…"
Casey's lips turned upwards into a small smile at that.
"Thank you, Kendra," the doctor addressed her and she took her leave.
"Right, Matt, you can be honest now; do you want your friend to stay or leave?" the doctor asked him.
Casey looked to Severide.
"I don't mind, I can go and get a coffee, or if do want me here then I'm happy to stay," Severide told him.
"Please stay…"
"Take a seat, both of you. I'm going to be asking some possibly difficult questions so if at any time you want some more privacy all you need to do is speak up, ok, Matt?"
"Ok," he responded quietly, sitting down now.
The doctor sat down too, pulling a chair over so that there was no desk between them. "Let's start with the questions, then I'll do a physical exam and take some blood and other samples, I'll take them myself rather than a nurse, I know you'd both rather this was kept quiet for the meantime, so as little contact with staff is probably best for now, since you're both fairly well known, and we know how gossip spreads…"
"Thank you," Casey said.
"You won't be thanking me after these questions," the doctor responded, taking a file and a pen from the desk. "When was the last time you had a health check-up?" he asked, starting easily.
Severide spoke up when Casey didn't answer straight away. "We went to a free clinic a few days ago, she gave him some antibiotics for his chest…"
"Matt?" Kreisler prompted.
"Yeah, just that," he answered, shrugging a little.
"Just that? Two years ago you were admitted after an overdose, then went to rehab again, you went a few times. That's the last information you have in your medical documents. There's been nothing since then?"
"No," he answered.
"Ok. You're still using heroin?"
He glanced at Severide before responding this time. "Yeah."
"Anything else?"
It took him a moment to reply. "Not really…"
"Bit more specific please, Matt?"
"I don't know what it was, someone gave it me, it was just the once," he told the doctor.
"And you just took it?" the man asked without a hint of accusation.
"They didn't really ask," he said, chuckling a little, trying to offset what his words implied.
Severide had to stop himself from saying something, and he realised now he was probably going to struggle more with this conversation than he thought, but he was glad Casey wanted him there.
"Ok. How often do you use?"
"Not as often as I would like…" he scoffed. "Sorry…"
"It's fine, Matt, honesty is really good," the doctor told him. "Do you want to get clean?"
"I was asked that a lot before," Casey began quietly. "I always said yes, but, I didn't care, no… I didn't want to stop…"
"And now?" the man questioned.
"I don't want to keep doing what I was doing, all of it… I don't want it, never wanted it but…" he let out a breath, trailing off.
"It's all right, Matt, this conversation doesn't leave this room," the doctor reassured him.
"I liked it," he admitted after a moment.
"Past tense?"
"I like the high, that's it, that's all it ever was, but before… what I'm doing isn't sustainable… I don't want to like it, but after… after what happened… after everything… it was the only thing… I don't know… I… sorry… erm… I just… couldn't function anyway, I was just, nothing, I was nothing, nothing…. so it didn't matter and then it got too much and there was no way back and… and I left…"
The doctor listend to Casey's every word unjudgling before he responded. "I don't think a rehabilitation facility will help you, not after all the attempts in the past. You were put on methadone before?"
He nodded. "That's why I overdosed so easily after."
"If you want to do this, and it's your choice, I'll prescribe methadone, you'll go to the pharmacy downstairs every day to take it, you'll have randomised urine tests, and you'd see me twice a week at least," the man explained.
Casey frowned, glancing at the man. "You're a therapist?"
"No," Kreisler answered.
"Why do I see you?" he asked, a little harshly, not the tone he'd intended.
"To talk, because I'm not a therapist, a counsellor or psychiatrist. I don't think you're a fan, am I right?"
Casey nodded. "What's the catch?"
"I need a hundred percent honesty from you. If you've gone and used, or think you're going to, you tell me, I don't care but I just need to know," the doctor told him.
"You don't care?"
"I don't want to waste my time. You are the only person who can make this change, I can't do it for you, if you fail I won't give it much thought, if you succeed then I'll say goodbye to you," he answered.
Severide looked from the doctor to Casey to gauge his reaction, if he was honest the man seemed quite harsh with his outlook but the frankness probably appealed to Casey. This was for him and no one else so he alone must be the one to want to get clean.
"Ok," Casey answered.
The doctor smiled. "Ok, good, let's move on then."
Severide smiled at Casey.
"Did you share needles?" Kreisler asked, pulling out his pen from his pocket, ready to write down any notes he needed.
Casey shook his head. "No."
"Unprotected sex?"
He nodded. "Yes."
Severide was looking at Casey again.
"Any anal penetration?"
"Yes…"
"Consensual?"
"B… both," he admitted, his voice had become gradually quieter as he answered the questions.
"Both?" the doctor repeated, a hint of sadness in his tone.
Casey seemed to shrink into the chair. "Sorry…"
"Please don't be offended by this, but is that how you made money?" the man asked him sympathetically.
"Yes," he responded, looking down at the floor.
"Ok, that's fine, we'll be taking some blood and it's gonna be tested so we see where we're at," Kreisler explained.
"I have HIV, don't I?" he spoke, glancing at the doctor now.
"Why do you think that?"
Casey just shrugged.
"Some of the symptoms for HIV are similar to what happens when you're body goes into withdrawal from heroin. But, and it is a but, if you have got HIV then we get you on a drug regime and once it's in effect the HIV wouldn't even be detectable in your system, medicine's come a long way with HIV now, it's chronic but it's not a life sentence. It can take a month to show up in a blood test so if it is negative we'll do more tests until we know you're in the clear," the man explained. "And Matt, if you do ever want to talk about everything then I will be here, or I can recommend someone, even though you don't like therapists."
He shook his head. "Don't need to talk about it, don't remember all of it anyway…" he trailed off, coughing and spluttering, unable to control his chest spasming.
"Let's get the physical done, then you get off home and rest, the test results will take a few days. When I get them I'll call you so you can come in again, we'll start you on the methadone right away though, I suspect part of the reason you feel so awful at the moment is the withdrawal, the methadone will help with that, and eventually we might be able to take you off that as well…"
Casey shook his head again. "I don't have any insurance…"
"I know, all this paperwork, all these tests, they're all gonna go through our free clinic," he explained.
Casey and Severide shared an unexpected look.
"Matt, you saved lives in this city, now let us help you," the doctor went on.
"I don't know what to say…"
"Don't need to say anything. My wife and kid, they'd be dead without you, Lieutenant Casey. You pulled both of them out of a townhouse fire four years ago, I didn't know what had happened to you until Kendra spoke to me yesterday, and I'm sorry for everything you had to go through."
The doctor proceeded with the physical examination, he took a urine and saliva sample as well as some vials of blood that were all sent off to be tested. He checked out Casey's hand, suspecting that he'd broken some fingers but they'd not been able to set properly, but unless they were rebroken and set there was nothing they would be able to do. As for the reason Casey was limping; rest was the answer. Severide brought up the issue of Casey's frequent vomiting, the doctor said it was likely he had some gastrointestinal issues since he would throw up even after a small amount of food. He was to continue on the antibiotics he'd been given at the clinic and if there was no improvement they would investigate further, or increase the dosage dependent on the lingering symptoms.
"I'm proud of you," Severide said as they exited the hospital together.
"After learning all that about me?" he asked after waiting for another coughing fit to subside.
"I'm glad I know… and you should have told me you were worried it's HIV…"
"Why? So you can make sure to avoid me? Don't worry I made sure you've not come into contact with any of my bodily fluid…" Casey spoke quietly.
"No, so that I could understand your concerns and try to reassure you," he told him.
Casey let out a short huff of laughter. "You wouldn't have been able to."
"Well, I'm glad I know now. Thank you for letting me stay in the room," Severide responded.
He shrugged. "I might regret it."
"Why?"
Casey just shook his head and spoke. "You know how dirty I am now… was dirty before but…"
"You're not dirty."
But Casey certainly didn't feel clean when he was back in the Doctor Kreisler's office a few days later. The tests came back positive for HIV. His viral load was low though so in a way he was lucky, it would have only increased without treatment. His CD4 count came in just below 300, any less than 200 and he would be at risk for serious illnesses, but above 500 would be considered healthy. The doctor explained that he was more interested in his viral load for the time being and he was happy with how low it was, but he stressed the importance of starting a treatment regime, because of his current and ongoing methadone use some of the drugs used to traditionally treat HIV could have potentially life-threatening side effects but they would be monitoring him closely. Casey was given leaflets and website links, he was told again that it would be very manageable and wouldn't affect his life. HIV wasn't the only thing that came up after his tests, the urine sample showed chlamydia, but he was given a prescription for some more antibiotics that would clear it up, the doctor was positive there would be no evidence of it after his next lot of tests. It had been a lot for both of them to take in despitre Casey's suspicians, being told he was HIV positive only proved to him what a mess he was, he could have prevented it all. He blamed only himself for everything that happened, it didn't matter what those men had done to him when he had been taken, he should have been strong enough to prevent sinking into such a dark place afterwards.
At home Severide sat down on the couch next to Casey. He picked up one of the leaflets from the coffee table. "Have you been looking at this stuff?"
Casey just shook his head.
"It's gonna be all right… do you have a headache?" Severide asked him, seeing how his brows were furrowed.
"Headache, stomach ache… I'm cold but my forehead is burning…"
"It's been almost a week since you started taking the methadone?"
"My head feels a little clearer," Casey responded.
"Good, good… sorry, I'm not great at knowing what I can say…"
Casey chuckled. "You can say anything, you won't offend me, don't worry."
"You don't seem to be getting any better?"
"Maybe it's because I'm warm and have a bed but I feel better…" but his words turned into a coughing fit and it took a short while for the coughs to subside.
Severide spoke up once silence had hit the room. "You're seeing the doctor again tomorrow."
"Yeah…"
"Maybe he can check you over again, you still seem really sick to me..." Severide suggested, nodding his head encouragingly.
"Ok, if that'll make you feel better," he said.
"I want you to feel better," Severide insisted.
"I've felt worse."
"And you're gonna tell him you'll start the HIV treatment?" Severide asked.
"Yeah, sure," he said despondently.
"It's really important that you get started," Severide told him.
"I know… it's just a lot…"
"I don't want you to die, and that's what will happen," Severide said.
"Or I'll accidently bleed on you or something," he continued.
"You could bleed on me but I'll only be a tiny bit worried if it gets inside me somehow, and I don't think you're gonna be bleeding in my eye, do you?" Severide questioned him. "I'm not worried you're gonna give it me."
"I should have been more worried about it than I was…"
"You didn't share needles… and you, well, you were in a bad place, you weren't bothered about living… and part of you is still struggling that you're here with me now," Severide spoke.
"Maybe," he responded with a small shrug of his shoulders.
They both fell into silence for a short while before Severide spoke again. "The apartment's never been so spotless, you didn't have to clean, but you've done a good job with it," he commented, hoping to bring a smile to Casey's face.
"I wanted to do something for you, try and pay you back somehow… I need to more..."
"You're presence is payback enough… which sounds like a line from a straight to DVD movie…"
"Still, I need to pay you back… I'd probably be dead in some alleyway if it weren't for you."
"You don't owe me anything."
TBC