14| Blind
They were so close, Matt thinks it over as he sits at Kelly's bedside. So close to being done and going home, all accounted for, healthy, with the upper hand. They were all already out. All but Kelly. Matt's hand squeezes Kelly's again, waiting for any reaction, any sign of recognition, of life. He is alive, Matt reminds himself, he is alive, he just needs to wake up.
Matt was already standing outside, all of his men present, stripping their masks off to fight the fire from outside. Kelly's last words - suddenly cut off by a roar and a blast - still ring in Matt's ears.
"All clear, Chief, on my way ou-"
He had been so close to the door when a lead pipe exploded off the wall, hitting him across the face, smashing his gear into shards. His pained cry ripped through Matt, grasped at his chest as if an invisible hand had violently torn all the air from his lungs. He remembers hearing Kelly's name screamed at the top of someone's lungs, only to find it was him, shrieking, terrified, as he made his way inside, one hand fighting off Boden, while the other adjusted his mask to his face. Kelly was already unconscious when they got to him, his face filled with blood.
Matt fights to expel the image from his head, looking over Kelly's calm body lying in the hospital bed. "Come on, Kelly" he whispers.
Holding himself back, to allow the paramedics to do their job, took all his self-restraint. Then going back to fight the fire, watching the ambulance fade away, with Kelly inside it… he'd never hated their job more than in that moment. Hated the fire. He thinks he may have howled as he held on to the hose, taking the fire on like a beast with a private debt to close.
There was no question where they were going when they were finished. Matt didn't care if it was unprofessional, or weak and needy, he'd go to the hospital if he'd had to walk there. Luckily, Boden took them off service and into the hospital waiting room, until they got word about Kelly's situation. He'd also found Matt a replacement to finish the shift, once it was clear that he won't be leaving the hospital. They had waited almost an hour for the doctor to come speak to them, and it's been three hours since.
The rest of 51 had left, gone back to the house to finish their shift, knowing there was nothing to do but wait. Matt had promised to update them if anything changes. When Kelly wakes.
"Kelly, please," Matt pleads breathily, his panic rising as the hours tick by with no change. The doctors had said it was only a mild concussion, but they need him to wake up to verify there was no damage to his brain.
.
"Hey, Matt, how are we doing in here?" a nurse comes in to check on Kelly's vitals, pulling Matt from his distressing thoughts. He thinks he recalls her saying her name was Rose. His eyes follow her as she fiddles with the machinery, noting down figures on the clipboard.
"Why isn't he waking up?" he asks, his voice small and distressed.
"He will," she answers calmly, "he's just taking his time," she smiles reassuringly. "How long have you two been together?"
"What?" Matt double-takes in surprise, blushing. "We're not, um, we're not,"
"Oh," she responds in surprise, "I just thought… sorry. Sorry."
"It's fine,"
"It's just, usually only family or loved ones sit like this, waiting," she tries to explain.
"I -" Matt begins, searching for words.
"It none of my business, sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"No, it's fine," Matt responds quickly, relieved to latch on to any conversation, rather than sit with the sickening feeling in his gut and panic. He's not even as overwhelmed as he'd thought he'd be, by the thought of someone assuming about their relationship. If anything, he finds, it's a tiny bit tad flattering. "We are each other's family," he contemplates. "I have very little contact with mine, and his doesn't live in Chicago anymore." He looks up to find her nodding in understanding. "We're also roommates, we live together,"
"Okay," she smiles.
"He's, I…" and his eyes falls on their hands, linked together at Kelly's side, holding tightly. "He's saved my life. Saving. He's saving my life." He adds as if it a realization. As if she wasn't there.
She's not sure what to say to that, sensing she's privy to something that should, perhaps, be private. She gently clears her throat, as if to remind him she's in the room, or, perhaps, to dislodge something that has suddenly clung to her airway.
"Sorry," he whispers when he realizes she's there. She's uncomfortable; he's said too much. Revealed too much.
"No," Rose assures him quietly, as if reading his mind, smiling gently, her fingers twitch in his direction as if she means to touch him but she catches herself in time, clinging to the chart in her hands. "I'll come back later," she adds calmly, indicating the privacy she's giving him. "You should talk to him, he probably can hear you," she encourages, "and try not to worry too much, he will wake up."
He knows she's trying to help, to be kind, though her words sound somewhat stale and banal. But what could she say, other than that? She doesn't really know him, them; she can't give him anything more substantial, can't promise anything to do with Kelly's condition. Except for Kelly waking up, he can't really think of anything that would comfort him right now. Though he is grateful for the short distraction she gave him from his own thoughts.
His fingers graze over Kelly's hand, turning it over gently and caressing down his wrist and up his palm again.
"You are my family," he tells Kelly, making sure he knows. "You're the most important person to me." He hesitates. "I love you,".
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd secretly hoped, it'd be like in the films, in the fairytales. From within his stupor, Kelly would hear his confession and wake up at his words. He looks at Kelly's face and body for any sign of change. But the machines beep calmly on, and Kelly's figure is as still at it was, only his chest moving calmly and rhythmically up and down as he breathes. Matt puffs as small self-deprecating wisp of laughter at his own ridiculousness. Then he sets his forehead down on the bed, next to Kelly's arm, and waits.
..
It takes another four hours for something to happen, by which time it's dark outside. Matt startles at the feeling of Kelly's fingers twitching against his. He raises his head, and blinks, trying to clear his mind and focus, unsure if he'd been asleep or just zoned-out. Kelly's fingers are twitching, and then grasping, or trying to, as if trying to figure what they're feeling.
"Kelly?" Matt rises to his feet, leaning over Kelly.
"Matt?" Kelly answers blurrily and unsure.
"Yes," he can't help but smile with relief. "Hi,"
"I can't see." Kelly panics, his hand rising to his face before Matt grabs it.
"I know, you have bandages on your eyes. But you're fine, you're fine. How are you feeling?"
Kelly takes a moment to think it over, assess his body and condition. "My head hurts. Like hell" he says, raising his hand carefully to glide along the bandage. "What happened?"
"A gas pipe blew in your face, just as you were leaving the warehouse. Broke your mask, and your eye socket. Gave you a mild concussion."
Kelly grunts in discomfort. "How long was I out?"
"10 hours, most of the day,"
"Shit," Kelly mumbles. "Is everyone here? What happened to shift?"
"No, they're on shift, they were here for a while, but they couldn't all stay,"
"And you stayed? 10 hours? What about your shift?"
"Boden pulled someone to replace me. To replace you, actually, and Hermann is covering for me. Don't worry about it, Kelly." Matt whispers, hoping Kelly would let it go. "I'll go tell the nurses you're awake. And call the House to let them know."
"Matt," Kelly calls, trying to stop Matt from walking away, he raises his hand to grab at Matt, but can't actually see where Matt is.
Matt steps closer to him, taking his hand again. "I'll be right back, Kelly. I'm not going anywhere," he sees Kelly nod slightly, relax again, his breathing calming down, and he gives his hand a final squeeze before letting go and stepping outside to find a nurse.
…
The doctor comes in in the early evening. They have the lights turned down, and Kelly sitting up, as the nurse takes off the bandaging, revealing swollen eyelids, tarnished with small, bloody lacerations. The doctor lifts his eyelids, flashing light into the small cracks of Kelly's eyes to check the damage. Matt finds himself holding his breath throughout and wincing with Kelly's pain.
"I can't see," Kelly's voice shakes with fear when the doctor finally lowers her hands. His hand flailing shortly before gripping tightly at the sheets. "I can't see,"
"Kelly," the doctor tone is stern yet calm, trying to ground Kelly, "I'm not worried about it yet," she says. "I'm scheduling you in for a surgery tomorrow, to re-set your eye socket. We cleaned out all the shards from your protective mask earlier, but the area was too swollen to fix the bone. We'll give it a few days for the swelling to come down, and the eye to recover from the trauma, and your eyesight should improve. I understand this is stressful and irregular for you, but we're not going to worry about your eyesight just yet. Okay?"
Matt can see Kelly processing the information, tucking it into place in his mind, trying to command his head to relax, to be patient. He can also see it isn't working. Kelly's nervous at the idea of losing his sight. It'd mean losing his job as a firefighter. It'd mean a huge change to everything he knows. The doctor said it was too early to worry, but how could he not, really, when it's all just a waiting game.
"You said improve." Kelly begins,
"Yes,"
"So, not return, fully recover?"
"Truthfully, I don't know yet. I don't want to give you false information, or false hope. I can't promise anything until I see some improvement in the eyes. Let's get that bone fixed, and get the swelling under control, give you antibiotic-drops after that, and we'll talk again by the end of the week."
Matt's heart breaks in his chest at the sight of Kelly's crumbling face. The doctor was fair and straightforward but in no way consoling. It wasn't her job, nor would she be good at it, if she'd sugar-coat it. But it was terrifying to watch Kelly taking the blow, nodding his head in silent resignation.
The doctor leaves, and the nurse repacks Kelly's eyes under thick gauze. Matt stands frozen at the edge of Kelly's bed until she leaves the room.
"Matt?" Kelly asks, his voice small and unsure as he searches for his friend.
"Yes, Kelly, I'm right here," Matt surges forward and takes hold of Kelly's hand again, squeezing tightly.
"Matt," Kelly bleats quietly, trying to fight the impending tears, which really, really sting his eyes now.
"Shh, Kelly, breathe," Matt tries to calm him down. He brings his forehead to lean gently on the crown of Kelly's head, his other hand wrapping around Kelly's nape. "We're not going to think the worst, okay? We're going to wait, like the doctor said. And we're going to fight this in whatever way we can. Okay?"
"Mh-hm," Kelly mumbles, trying to let Matt's words in, trying to follow his logic, clinging to Matt's arm.
"Are you in any pain?" Matt asks, his hand raking through Kelly's head, before reaching out and pressing the call button.
"Mh-hm," Kelly answers again, affirming Matt's suspicion.
The nurse comes in, to find Matt leaning over Kelly. 'Pain-relief?' Matt mouths to her, and she nods, moving to fiddle with the IV tube running down Kelly's arm.
"Get some rest, Kelly. Try and sleep. I'll be here until they kick me out, okay. Let's lower your bed again," Matt says as he moves to press the bed-controls, making Kelly's body unfold back to lay almost flat. He's surprised at his own tone of voice, how calm and collected it sounds, though his insides are screaming with terror and uncertainty. He has no idea what they'd do if Kelly were to remain blind, the mere thought sending panic coursing through his body. But that's not what Kelly needs. He needs strength, and positivity and faith, and to not be alone.
He sits down in the chair at Kelly's bedside, still holding his hand, watching as Kelly slowly drifts into a drug-infused sleep. He sits there until the very last moment he's allowed to stay and makes sure Kelly is asleep before he leaves silently.
He's halfway to the elevator when he turns back, retraces his steps, sets his lips to Kelly's bandaged head, and lays a fluttering kiss against his covered ear. "I'll be back first thing in the morning."
…
He goes to the firehouse, to collect his things, and Kelly's. To get his car. He tells them all over dinner what the doctor had said, and how Kelly is doing. Though he omits the last part, giving Kelly his dignity and privacy. Even Kelly Severide is allowed to break down sometimes.
He should go home, sleep, pack a bag for Kelly for the hospital; but he finds he's rather drawn to the company. The thought of their empty apartment, without Kelly, knowing Kelly won't be coming home tonight, makes him feel small and scared. He doesn't think he takes Kelly's presence for granted, but he's surprised at how hollow he feels at his absence.
He wants to go back to the hospital, to sit with Kelly. Instead, he lingers at the firehouse, drinking another cup of coffee while they all wait for the next call. No-one asks him why he doesn't go home, because they all know, or suspect they understand. Eventually, they do get a call, and once they've all left, Matt sighs in the empty common room, collects their things and drives home.
It's past midnight by the time he goes to bed, having showered and packed and prepared everything he thinks Kelly will need for his time at the hospital. He lies there awake, for hours, thinking of what had happened, thinking of Kelly. Listening to the loud stillness of their empty apartment, feeling the terrifying loneliness at the thought that Kelly might lose everything, that Kelly might be lost. It's his turn now, he decides – to be there, to hold Kelly and anchor him through this, as Kelly had done for him. Because he can't lose Kelly. He can't lose Kelly. So, he's up at 5:30, drinking coffee and leaving the house to be there, waiting, for visiting hours to start.