It was 10 o' clock by the time everybody returned to 51, showered, changed their clothes, and as much as Third Watch was going to hate answering a call with wet turnout gear, removed the liners from their turnout coats and pants, turned them inside out, threw them and their hoods in the extractor, scrubbed the worst of the filth and debris off their coats and pants and helmets, then once the liners were hanging up to dry, put the shells of their gear in next. Third Watch was going to have to finish drying everything and get it put back together, and just hope no calls came in until that could be done.
Casey and Severide walked out of 51 with their bags over their shoulders and Casey had started to head towards his truck when he heard Severide call him, and he stopped when he saw the empty spot at the curb. He rode to work with Kelly yesterday because his truck needed some repairs. He turned back around and walked over to Severide's Mustang.
"You wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast?" the Squad lieutenant asked.
"Sure," Casey answered as he tossed his bag in the back and got in.
In the ten minutes it took for Kelly to drive them to the diner, Casey's head dropped to his chest and he'd fallen asleep briefly before he was jolted forward when Kelly stepped on the brakes.
"We're here," he announced.
"I see that," Casey replied as he reached for the door handle.
They went inside and sat the counter, or rather Kelly sat, Casey let the upper half of his body collapse on the countertop, wanting nothing more than to go to bed.
A waitress came up and asked if they were ready to order, Kelly ordered two eggs over easy, toast, and hash browns. Undeterred by Casey slumped face down on the counter, the waitress turned to him and asked, "And for you, sir?"
A muffled response could be heard, but deciphering it was something else. Kelly translated, "A Spanish omelet and lots of hot black coffee."
"Coming right up," the waitress replied unflappably.
Kelly was amused by Casey's current position and asked him, "Are you alright?"
"Exhausted," Casey answered as he pulled himself up.
"I can see that. Rough night?"
"Something like that," Matt replied. "When we get home, all I want to do is crash."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Kelly said.
The bell over the door rang and the next thing they heard was a menacing voice demanding, "Nobody move!"
Despite this they turned in their seats enough to see that some guy in his 20s in dirty clothes was brandishing a gun at the customers. They'd seen enough junkies on the job to know this guy was definitely on something, what though, they weren't sure.
"Hand over your money now," he told them, waving the gun around at various people, "Or I'll blow your brains out."
"Just cool it," Casey spoke up, diverting his attention away from the others, "nobody wants any trouble."
"Shut up!" the man said as he closed in on them and pointed his gun right in Casey's face. "Shut up, or I'm gonna kill you. Now hand over your money, and get your hands up!"
Kelly felt half paralyzed, he tossed his wallet towards the guy and raised his hands up to his head. Casey didn't though, he just stared at the man, and at the gun, and he looked determined.
"You're not going to use that on me," Casey said calmly, not complying with the demands whatsoever but instead slowly standing up.
This freaked the man out, he got a two handed grip on the gun and leveled it at Casey's chest. "You stay back! Don't come any closer, or you're a dead man!"
Casey shook his head, and repeated, coolly and collectively, "You're not going to shoot me." He took another step towards the man, and another.
In two seconds, Casey grabbed the gun with both of his own hands and the two men struggled over it, Casey forced the man's arms high up in the air just before he pulled the trigger, over, and over, emptying the whole magazine into the ceiling as the customers started running and ducking for cover.
Kelly jumped to his feet and helped Casey tackle the guy and pin him to the floor while the cops were called.
"Are you okay?" he asked Matt.
Casey stared down at the young man with a blank look on his face, he turned towards Kelly and said in a monotone voice, "Yeah...I think so..."
Kelly heaved a breath and said, "You scared the hell out of me."
Casey said, too low for Kelly to really hear, "I scared myself." He looked down at the man futilely trying to writhe around and resist the weight of the two firefighters pinning him to the floor, and said under his breath, "I thought he was going to shoot me."
Police and paramedics came out, the cops handcuffed the guy and hauled him off and took people's statements, EMS checked over the customers for any injuries, nobody was seriously hurt. When the paramedics from Firehouse 33 found out Casey had rushed the guy, they were nothing short of impressed. He got a round of congratulations and a couple slaps on the back, as well as from Kelly, but it all rang hollow in his ears.
Matt held his phone to his ear and anxiously paced as he waited for somebody to answer. He heard the phone ring, and ring, and ring...
"Hello?"
"Christie?"
"Matt?"
"Yeah, it's me," he managed a small smile even though his sister couldn't see him, he was sure she could hear it. "How's-"
"Hang on a sec," Christie said, the sound was muffled as she lowered the phone for something, and a few seconds later came back on, "Okay, I'm here. Why're you calling, Matt? Is something wrong with Mom?"
"Uh...no, I don't think anyway, I actually haven't heard-"
"Well what's going on?" she sounded hurried. "I had to cut out from work for an hour for lunch, I have to get back and-"
"It's...not really that important, it...it'll keep," Casey said, disappointed but not all that surprised really, "sorry to bother you, I'll...call again when you're not swamped."
"That'd be great," Christie said, "call me over the weekend, I'll be home then."
"Yeah..." Casey murmured faintly as he reached to disconnect the call, "yeah, sure..."
He looked through his contacts and tried his mom's number. Same process of pacing around while it rang, hoping somebody would answer.
"Matt?"
"Mom," he was surprised she actually answered, "how are you?"
"Oh I'm doing just fine, Matty...how've you been?"
"Uh, well, actually, that's why I was calling, you see...today-"
"Oh I'm sorry, Matthew, I'm getting another call...I still haven't mastered this call waiting yet, so let me just call you back later, okay?"
Casey felt his heart sink in his chest. "Sure, Mom. Love you."
He knew she wouldn't call him back. It wasn't that she did it on purpose, it was just how she was. By the time she got off the phone with whoever was on the other line, she wouldn't even remember he'd called.
Matt paced around his empty living room and tried to think. Every time he closed his eyes to blink he could still see the muzzle of that gun aimed right at him, felt himself tensing, waiting for the sound of it firing, waiting for the searing pain of hot lead in his body. He'd nearly died that day, he had to talk to somebody. He looked up his niece's number and tried her. Instead he got a message telling him Violet's mailbox was full. He scrolled through his contacts again, and came to Gabby's number. It had been over a year since she walked out of his life. He grappled with the idea of whether he should call her or not...and finally decided he'd take anybody that he could get, he had to talk to somebody about what had happened today.
It rang once, then an automatic voice came on saying sorry, the number had either been changed, disconnected, or was temporarily out of service. Please check the number and try again.
Casey got tired of pacing and instead plopped down on his couch, and after a few seconds, he started crying.
Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick...
Casey's eyes flew open. This time he could tell it was his heart beating. Had it always sounded like that? Or did it sound different now?
He'd had a close call that day...one wrong move, and that sound in his chest would've stopped forever, like an old clock.
His chest felt weird, was his heart beating supposed to feel like that? He pressed a hand to his chest and felt it, listened to it, and counted.