Chapter Sixteen

"Kelly's going to be okay," Beth says, almost an hour later. "Has a minor concussion and he's banged up worse than he let on downstairs but there's nothing life threatening. They're keeping him in for observation for the rest of the night."

"Oh thank god," Stella says. She's changed out of her dirty clothes and into her scrubs.

"Thanks, Beth," Casey says. The wait had seemed endless, both of them too wound up to talk.

"Get some sleep, both of you," the petite nurse orders and leaves the room.

Enough light filters in that Casey can see Stella's face and the silent tears rolling down her cheeks. His heart clenches at the sight and he wishes he could comfort her. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can get the words out, she swipes the tears away.

"Night, Casey," she says, voice rough and choked. Dome thing in it tells him she doesn't want to talk and he lets the words he wants to say slip away.

"Goodnight, Stella," he says instead and closes his own eyes, not surprised by the wave of exhaustion that rolls over him.

Daylight fills the room when he blinks awake and it takes his brain a second to catch up. The broken night has left him groggy. Gabby sits in the chair next to his bed, a bag on her lap.

He flicks his eyes over her, relief trickling through him when he doesn't see anything amiss.

"Hey," he says, and reaches for her with his right hand.

"Hey, babe," she replies, pressing a kiss on the palm of his hand. "Did you hear the hood news?"

"Where's Stella?" He asks at the same moment, the words crashing into each other. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

"Went to see Severide. Nurse took her down about an hour ago," Gabby explains, smiling. "How do you feel about getting out of this place?"

He's more than ready to go home, the thought of his own bed calling to him like a siren. "Oh god yes," he says "when can we go?"

She laughs again, kissing his knuckles. "Beth's getting the paperwork started. The docs want to do a few more checks but they seem happy so far."

The thought of getting back to some sense of normality hits him hard. He can't wait to walk into their apartment, curl up on their couch, sleep in their bed. It's almost a physical ache in his chest.

All the doctors he's seen come through the room over the next few hours, asking questions and giving detailed notes about his recovery at home. He answers honestly, takes it all in but inside he feels like a kid on Christmas eve, anticipation filling him so much he wants to jump around.

It's late afternoon by the time he escapes the room, rolling through the hallways in the mandated wheelchair.

"Good luck, Matt," Beth says, patting his shoulder. "Don't come back too soon, you hear?"

He turns to grin at her over his shoulder. "Do my best," he promises, relishing the feel of the sun on his face.

Gabby pulls the car over and they manhandle him into the back seat, bad leg propped on two pillows. The whole process hurts, leaves him exhausted and it hits him again just exactly what he has to claw back. It's not his first time coming back from an injury but this is worse than anything he's had before and he knows getting his fitness and stamina back is going to be a damn hard slog. If this ever heals properly, he thinks, staring down at his hip.

Gabby slips into the driver's seat and turns to look at him. "Ready to go home?"

"God yes," he says and she smiles, turning to face the road, glad to see some life coming back into his eyes. "Take me home, please," he says softly.