Endure

Nightmares

Apartment

"Here," Severide placed a sandwich down in front of Casey.

Casey shook his head, "Nah I'm all right."

"You didn't eat anything at Boden's, you only had a carton of Ensure before we left this morning. You can't tell me you're not hungry?" Severide asked doubtfully.

"I'm not," he stated.

"You know Case," he began as he sat down next to him on the couch, "If I were a psychiatrist or whatever, I'd say that this not eating thing was self-destruction…"

"No," he shook his head, frowning, "I'm not trying to self-destruct. I'm not. It … it just doesn't taste nice, it's not the same," he tried to explain.

"I can make something else? We can order in? I can go to the store? What do you want?" Severide insisted.

"Nothing," he replied, maintaining his focus on the coffee table in front of him.

"Damnit Casey! Look at your…" Severide yelled in annoyance but stopped himself almost immediately, "I'm sorry… Matt?"

"Please…" Casey's body was rigid and his breathing shallow as he pleaded quietly.

"Case?" he tried to gain his attention with no luck.

"Please…" Casey muttered again, his eyes unseeing to the world around him.

"It's ok, you're at home," he reassured him realising his raised voice had sent Casey straight back into his memories of the dark room he was held in.

"Please don't…" Casey's voice was barely audible as he continued to plead.

"I'm sorry Matt... I don't know how to stop this," Severide sighed.

After a while of sitting in silence Casey's breathing returned to normal. He frowned, he wasn't quite sure what had happened, his chest ached and his head hurt, "Kel?"

"Hey, you ok? You sort of… went away…" Severide spoke gently.

Timidly Casey replied, "I don't know. I don't really remember. Sorry."

"No," he shook his head, "I raised my voice and caused…"

"Caused me to lose it? Again…" Casey sighed, "I'm crazy, you all keep saying I fought and survived but obviously I didn't."

"You're not crazy, well no more than you've ever been!" he stated trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah? Then why's Lawson sent me away with more pills?" Casey questioned incredulously.

"What did he say they were for?"

"To stop everything being so overwhelming, well hopefully that's what they'll do… There's a long list of side effects which even includes what they're supposed to help… don't really understand that…" Casey replied thoughtfully. Lawson had prescribed him an SSRI, a small dosage of Zoloft. It would take a minimum of two weeks to see if the drug helped but it had been shown to successfully combat the obsessive thoughts brought on by PTSD. He would be prescribed a higher dosage, or an alternative medicine, if his depression also continued but the doctor didn't want to do this straight away as the side effects of the medication included a decrease in appetite and sleeping problems and Casey was already having those issues. They hoped this would work for him so his mood would improve along with his appetite as it worked to balance the chemicals in his brain.

"Everything?" Severide repeated carefully hoping Casey would explain how he was feeling.

"The thoughts in my head, they don't stop," Casey replied quietly avoiding eye contact, embarrassed by what he perceived as weakness.

"Memories?" Severide wondered. He'd read all about intrusive thoughts and feelings when Lawson had first mentioned PTSD.

"I guess," he replied. Severide frowned questioningly, urging him to explain. "It's confusing... voices, images… I can still feel the kn…" he breathed heavily and stopped, he didn't want to say anymore, he did sound crazy, and he felt embarrassed that he couldn't control his own thoughts any longer. He could still feel pain as if the wounds were fresh, he could hear himself screaming and pleading, he could hear them laughing and he could picture himself back in the dark room so clearly it was as if he had never left. "Do you think these will work?" he held up the orange pot of pills he'd been fiddling with throughout the conversation. "I hope they will," he added quietly.

Severide heard the question but he didn't have the perfect answer and he had a question of his own burning away at him. "Did you think I was going to hurt? That I will hurt you?" Casey looked up at him but didn't reply. "You were pleading with me," Severide stated recalling just moments ago when he raised his voice in front of his friend.

Slowly Casey shook his head, "Not you."

"You flinch if I touch you," he stated softly.

"I don't mean too," Casey replied dejectedly.

"Am I making this worse? Do you want to be on your own or…" he queried. He hated not knowing if he was doing the right thing for his friend.

"No," Casey said suddenly, shaking his head. "It's better. When I'm on my own I can't stop myself, I can't stop them," he admitted.

"Maybe it would help if we found a new apartment?" Severide asked carefully.

"Why?" he frowned. It had taken him and Dawson months to find this place. He still thought of it as their place not his and Severide's, even though by now it had just been the two of them far longer than it had been just him and Dawson living here.

"Because Katya was killed in front of you in our kitchen. Because you have a flashback every time you're in that room," Severide stated.

"I'm not going to be forced to move just because of what happened. People die in front of us all the time," Casey reasoned.

"This was different Matt," he sighed, "Just give it some thought. ok?"

"You should go out tonight, bring home a girl or something, go have fun," Casey stated, looking at nothing in particular as he changed the subject.

Severide frowned, a moment ago Casey had told him he preferred not to be alone and now he was suggesting Severide should leave him and even bring a stranger back to the apartment. "I'd rather stay in," he said gently.

"Yeah cause I'm great company, aren't I?" Casey scoffed. "I'm going to bed," he stated as he stood up awkwardly on his left leg and managed to get himself into the chair. Navigating his way to his room was a difficult task given that he had limited use of his arms but he was determined and managed it with no help.

Severide remained on the couch staring at Casey's plate of food that sat untouched on the coffee table. He sighed, stood up and made his way to Casey's room, the door was open but he still knocked, "If you're going to sleep you should have all your meds."

"I know," Casey replied quietly, he was still sat in the chair by the side of his bed, "Sorry for being a jerk."

"You're not being a jerk Matt. Look, why don't we watch a film in here? I know it's got to be more comfortable lying on your bed than sitting on couch, yeah?" Severide suggested, he didn't want Casey to be on his own feeling sorry for himself.

"Everything does kinda ache," he admitted with a small smile.

"I bet it does, you all right to…" Severide began and indicated to the bed.

"I got it," Casey interrupted him and slowly got onto the bed and sat against the pillows that were propped up on the headboard.

"Massage would be good, I know this fantastic lady who… right, yeah, maybe not yet," Severide added at the anxious look that crossed Casey's face.

The next couple of days passed by with little incident. When Severide had returned home from his shift the twenty-four hour absence made him realise how much weight Casey was losing, he looked even worse now than when he had arrived at the hospital, he insisted he wasn't doing it on purpose but Severide wasn't so sure. Despite this self-destructive behaviour Casey had taken Severides advice and was at least washing every day so that was something. The night terrors continued and there were now permanent darks circles under Casey's dulled eyes, he would wake up screaming and pleading so loudly that Severide was surprised none of their neighbours had called the police.

"Do you want something to help you sleep?" Severide asked just as his did every night, Casey shook his head and took himself to his room. When he woke a few hours later trembling and sweating Severide was with him in an instant reassuring him, "It's ok, look how bright it is, you're at home, you're safe." Once Casey had calmed down Severide fetched him a glass of water with a couple of blue oval pills crushed within. "Here Case, drink this," he held the glass to Casey's lips.

Casey took a sharp intake of breath.

"No, please," he spluttered as the liquid was forced down his throat, the alcohol burned just as it had the previous day. He was severely dehydrated and trembling from the cold lying naked on the floor. The wounds on his back and chest were inflamed. He had no use of either of his hands and his wrists sent shocks of agony down his arms if he tried to move them.

"He doesn't like it," the man in suit stated. "Can't let it go to waste," he said and he tipped the bottle allowing the clear liquid drip on Casey's chest.

Casey bit his lip in an attempt to stop himself from crying out but vaguely thought that at least any infection should be kept at bay.

"Hang him up," the man instructed. Casey gritted his teeth as his wrists were bound and pulled upright, sending flames of pure pain dancing around his battered body. He felt even more vulnerable and exposed than before, without his clothes he had no protection. His whole body was shaking. The numbness in his hands was quickly spreading down his arms.

"Wait," it was Nesbitt. Casey could barely hear him over the sound of his own groaning as he fought against the pain that assaulted his every breath. "What if he doesn't' know anything? What if we're just wasting our time here? The cops are…"

"Argh!" Casey screamed as the pulley adjusted lifting his trembling body up off his feet that had been desperately trying find purchase on the ground below to save his wrists from the full weight of his frame.

The man in the suit came into view, "Where did Katya hide the notebook?"

"Maybe you should have asked her because she didn't… argh!" an elbow slammed into his sides sending a new wave of pain around his body.

The man leaned in. "Fine have it your way," he stated and as he walked away he spoke to the tall balding man, "Bring me one of his friends; someone from that firehouse of his."

"No!" Casey yelled, "No you can't, please, I don't know anything!"

The man in the suit left the room and Nesbitt followed leaving him alone with the tall man. "I do not care what you may or may not know," the man snarled sending chills down his spine.

"Casey?"

He frowned at the sound of his own name, he knew that voice. He thought there was just the two of them in the dark room, why could he hear Severide?

"Case? You're ok."

No he wasn't, he couldn't feel his arms, he could barely breath as his arms pulled up and back from his chest and there was a man stood in front of him threatening with a knife.

"Matt, you're at home…"

"Sev?" he breathed. He was lying in his brightly lit room on his bed. He frowned looking up at Severide, his whole body ached and his arms hurt just as they had in the dark room. "Please make this stop," he choked out as his face crumbled and tears streamed down his face. He cried himself to sleep.

After spending the night in Casey's room as he fitfully slept Severide sat wearily on the couch with his mobile to his ear. "Hi can you put me through to Doctor Lawson if he's available please?"

"Just a moment sir," the women on the end of the phone replied.

"Doctor Lawson," the man greeted.

"It's Kelly Severide, do you have a few moments?" he asked.

"Of course," Lawson replied, "What's happened?"

"He had another bad night, I'm probably just wasting your time but I think he's just getting worse," Severide explained.

"The nightmares and flashbacks are increasing?" Lawson asked.

He sighed. "Yeah. He's worse after they happen too," he stated, "What can I do?"

"He's worse afterwards?" the doctor queried.

"Takes him longer to wake up, figure out where he is, he was trying to hide how he felt before but now… I don't know, I feel like I'm losing him," he said mournfully, he was desperate to help but had no idea how, having Casey to speak to Lawson didn't seem to be making a difference.

"It's going to take time, even when things seem to improve anything could send him back to square one. We're going to help him cope with his feelings so when they're overwhelming he can learn how to control them again. I noticed he'd lost weight since he's been at home but I didn't broach the subject with him, he's not eating?" Lawson asked.

"No not really," he replied.

"The lack of nutrients and energy really isn't going to be helping his coping methods, the brain shuts down and relies only on basic functions like threat detection which is already highly sensitive with what he's been through, it's making it extremely difficult for him to make good decisions because of his lack of willpower," Lawson explained.

"What do we do? I can't force him to eat and I've offered every single option I can think of," Severide pressed.

"There are no quick solutions Kelly, just time and patience," Lawson stated softly.

"What if he gets worse?" Severide asked urgently. Casey looked so ill right now he would be barely recognisable by those who didn't know him well.

"Give him more time Kelly, it's only been two weeks, he could suffer from PSTD for the rest of his life but he is going to learn how to cope," Lawson counselled.

TBC