Sevasey Drabbles

Sick

Severide had turned up early to pick Casey up from his chemotherapy round. He thought that perhaps Casey would like the company.

He was wrong.

He arrived at Casey's room to the sound of retching. He entered with a concerned expression across his face. This was the first time he'd seen Casey so sick because of the drugs they were pumping into his body. There was a nurse in the room, she was hooking Casey up to some fluids as he continued to throw up the acidic contents of his stomach.

He walked in further so that he was now facing Casey. He looked awful and Severide couldn't help but gaze at him for a few moments. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering his pale skin. Dark shadows under his eyes. His lips were dry and chapped. He wore a thin t-shirt, grey joggers, thick socks and a CFD beanie. The central line poked out of his lose fitting top. The IV line was securely taped to the back of his hand.

"What can I do, Matt?" he asked sincerely as the nurse took away the soiled emesis basin. It was swapped for a fresh one.

Casey gazed up at him. "Leave…" he croaked out. His throat raw.

"Do you want…" Severide was cut off as Casey started to retch once more. With nothing left in his stomach the spasms wrecked at his core as he struggled to breathe.

"Please…" he began between ragged breaths, "Leave…"

"Casey…"

"Go…"

"Matt, you're my best friend, I don't care what…"

"Go…" Casey struggled as he continued to heave.

Severide stepped back away and edged over to the door where the nurse was just tidying up her equipment. "What can I do?" he asked her in a hushed tone.

"Not much I'm afraid," she spoke sympathetically.

Severide just watched, his heart breaking, unable to do anything as Casey moved from his position perched on the edge of the bed into a foetal position. An attempt to stem the nausea.

"I'll… erm… mouthwash? Fresh clothes? Will that make him more comfortable?"

"They may," the nurse replied, "I'll be at the desk if you need me. Matt knows to use the call button if he needs any help."

He watched her leave before glancing back over to Casey's trembling form and leaving himself.

Severide returned a short while later with a bag in his hand, items courtesy of the hospital shop and a vending machine. He walked back over to Casey and knelt down so they were eye level. He'd never seen Casey make himself look so small, he was curled so tightly in on himself that he barely took up a quarter of the hospital bed.

He opened the bottle of Gatorade as he spoke. "Do you think you can sit up a little?"

Casey just shook his head ever so slightly.

"Ok. No worries, bud."

Soon Casey was sipping at the Gatorade Severide was holding through a straw. Still lying curled up on his side, the only position where he didn't feel quite so sick.

"That good, huh?" Severide smiled as Casey drank half the bottle before letting the straw slip from his lips. "Are you cold or hot?" he asked next since Casey was uncovered on the bed and he wanted to make sure he was as comfortable as possible.

"Hot…"

"All right, not too much I can do about that… erm… pants off?" he suggested as he thought out loud.

Casey just muttered an incoherent moan at the idea.

"It's ok. I don't mind," Severide reassured him before slowly slipping off Casey's pants and socks, and removing his beanie. "There we go, better?"

"Mmm…"

For the next hour, until Casey began to feel marginally better, Severide remained by Casey's side, he held a cold damp cloth to his skin, interchanging it between his forehead and the back of his neck.

"Kel… thanks… thanks for not listening to me…"

"Anytime, bud."