Casey's neck was killing him when he woke up, when he opened his eyes and realized he was under the kitchen table, with Kelly laying on top of him, he figured out why. The kitchen was bright, the sun was shining in through the windows. He had no idea how long they'd been under there but it slowly occurred to him they'd actually slept there, Kelly had slept through the night, and was still asleep now, and seemed content to stay there. Maybe...just maybe they were making some progress, Casey wasn't sure, but he hoped things were going to start getting better.

He hated to wake Kelly up but he knew he personally couldn't stay on the floor. He got Kelly up and walked him back to his bedroom and got him settled in and the Squad lieutenant quickly fell back asleep. Casey rolled his neck and rotated his shoulders one by one to try and work the kinks out from sleeping flat on the floor all night. A few things popped, but he still took some Tylenol and laid down on the couch to rest before he started on breakfast.

Casey felt his head swimming as he heard a familiar buzzing sound. He opened one eye and realized it was his phone. He picked it up, didn't recognize the number but answered, "Hello?"

"Matt?"

Casey sat up, wide awake. "Voight?"

"This a bad time?"

"Uh..." how to even answer that question? "No...what's going on?"

"I know you wanted more answers than we could give you on what happened to Severide," Hank said, "so I did some digging. Can you meet me?"

Matt met with Voight in a diner a couple blocks from Kelly's apartment. Casey poured half a dozen packets of sugar into his coffee, trying to wake up enough to actually be having this conversation with the cop. He felt like he had bags under his eyes the size of saucers.

"Looked into Rooker's past, turns out he had an older brother, Martin Rooker, when Martin was 19 he tried to join the fire department, didn't make it."

Casey nodded wearily as he sipped his coffee, "I know back in the day a lot of men who couldn't pass the psyche eval for the police department joined the fire department instead because those particular qualifications didn't used to be as strict as they are now. These days they're able to weed out most people like that...a few get through the cracks, like Hadley."

"Yeah well," Voight replied, "Martin was in and out of the system for years after that, blamed the fire department for his failure, and Mitchell idolized his big brother, so he grew up with the same resentment towards first responders."

Casey tried to open his eyes wide as he looked at the Intelligence sergeant and asked, "You mean this guy raped Kelly, just because he's a firefighter?"

"Might not be the only reason but it definitely had something to do with it," Hank told him. "I'm sorry, Matt. I know you were looking for something more definite to explain this but...there's just nothing there, nothing concrete, and with Rooker dead, we'll never know for sure."

Casey nodded reluctantly, "I know...I get it...and I'm glad he's dead, that son of a bitch didn't deserve to go to trial with what he did, put Kelly through all that again..."

"How's he doing?" Voight asked.

Casey shook his head, he just about told Hank how and where he found Kelly last night, but he didn't trust the cop enough to tell him that. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "He won't talk to or see anyone from 51, I can't get him to leave the house, he doesn't want to see a psychiatrist, I don't know what to do..."

"How're you holding up?" Hank asked.

"I don't have time to think about that," Casey answered.

"Well you better make time," Hank said, "if you collapse from running yourself ragged, you're not going to be any help to Severide."

Casey groaned and balled up one hand against his jaw and closed his eyes.

"I gotta get going," Hank put his money on the counter, stood up and put his jacket on, "Sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Casey slowly nodded, "Thanks anyway, Hank, I appreciate you looking into it."

"I meant what I told you before, you need anything, Kelly needs anything, let me know," Hank told him.

Casey nodded again, knowing he'd never call Voight for help. In light of the circumstances he probably meant well, but Matt sincerely doubted there was anything Hank could do that would be of any help in this situation. He checked his watch and downed the rest of his coffee, he had to get back to the apartment before Kelly started wondering where he was. He sure as hell couldn't tell Severide about this, not right now anyway.

Two weeks passed slowly and tensely. Casey had driven Kelly to the hospital to have his stitches taken out, then he'd driven Kelly home, during which time the Squad lieutenant didn't say anything and made it clear he was not in the mood for any conversation. As soon as they got in the front door, Kelly had run to his room, slammed the door behind him, and cried for two hours, if Casey had to guess, from the embarrassment of having to go back to the hospital for the procedure. It was one thing for the doctors and the nurses, they did this all the time, but there was absolutely nothing routine about what Kelly had had to go through, what he'd had to endure since the day of the holdup. Casey stood outside the door, wanting to go in and try to comfort his friend, but forcing himself away from the door, knowing that he had to respect Kelly's privacy.

The day turned to evening and the sun was starting to go down when Casey finally decided to go into Kelly's room, it had been quiet for a couple hours and he wasn't sure whether to take it as a good sign or not. He opened the door and saw Kelly laying face down on the bed, hugging the pillow under his head. Matt lightly stepped over to the bed and carefully nudged Kelly on his shoulder. "Kelly?"

"Hmm?" Kelly turned his head to the side and forced his eyes open, "What is it?"

"I made dinner," Casey answered.

Kelly closed his eyes and turned over, "Not hungry."

"Kelly, you have to eat," Casey told him.

Kelly turned back over and tiredly slurred, I'll ge' it later."

"You just want to go back to sleep?"

Kelly got out an incoherent mumble before he was dead to the world again. Casey lightly ran his hand through Kelly's hair, he'd put his dinner in the fridge for tomorrow.

Kelly sat on the shower floor and pressed his knees to his chest as the hot water beat down on him. He'd gotten the water as hot as he could stand it and turned it up a little higher than that, he didn't know how long he'd been in there but he didn't care. He'd scrubbed every inch of his body twice, determined to finally feel clean after two weeks of sweat clinging to his skin every night when he woke up from his nightmares. Now he was just enjoying the feel of the hot water on his skin. Enjoy was an exaggeration, it felt better than not being able to adequately bathe, and it was the only time he didn't feel like he was completely freezing, but he rocked on the shower floor and cried, hoping the rushing water was enough to drown him out so Casey didn't hear him.

He didn't want to get out, he didn't want to have to get dried off and dressed and go back to bed, he didn't want to fall asleep and have more nightmares, he didn't want to talk about what happened and he didn't want to deal with Casey's gentle probing trying to help. There wasn't anything he or anyone else could do to help him.

Getting on his knees to pull himself up, Kelly fell back against the wall. He could feel the dirt and grime from the diner floor on his legs again, he could feel the blood running down his thighs, feel that bastard's hands on his hips digging into the flesh. He grabbed the discarded wash rag and frantically scrubbed at every inch of his lower body again. That was the worst feeling in the world and he didn't want to ever feel it again. He reached up and turned the water on even hotter.

Casey had just been getting ready to turn in when he heard Kelly throwing up in the bathroom and could still hear the shower running. He went in and was blinded and choked by a curtain of steam coming from the shower. He made his way across the room, pulled the curtain back and found Kelly on all fours violently throwing up. Casey found the knobs and turned on the cold water to dissipate the steam. He could hardly breathe from the heat, it was no wonder Kelly had made himself sick.

"Kelly," he grabbed a towel and crouched down beside him.

Kelly's body went through a series of spasms as he ran out of contents to regurgitate and just went through a set of dry heaves.

"I'm sorry," he groaned.

"It's alright," Casey wrapped the towel around Kelly's torso and pulled him back, out of the shower and on the floor beside him. Casey held his friend against him, rubbing his back with one hand and patting his shoulder with the other. "It's okay, just take it easy, try and breathe."

"I'm sorry," Kelly weakly repeated.

"It's okay, I'll get it cleaned up," Casey told him as he slowly helped Kelly to his feet, "are you okay?"

Kelly groaned in answer.

Casey walked him over to the sink so he could rinse his mouth out and wash his face, and asked, patting him softly on the back, "Feeling better now?"

Kelly was still crying, though much weaker now, but Casey just thought it was from being sick. He put an arm over Kelly's shoulders and walked him out of the bathroom. "Come on, let's get you dressed."

Kelly was still shivering after he got dressed in a pair of sweats and a long sleeved shirt, he sat on the edge of the bed as Casey coaxed him into sipping a bottle of Sprite. After a few swallows he gave up and handed the bottle back to Matt.

"I'm cold," he said as he flopped down on the bed and started pulling the covers around him.

Casey felt Severide's forehead but couldn't tell anything from that, so he got the thermometer out of the bedroom and put it against his temple. 98.2.

"No fever," Casey noted, having the presence of mind to guess they should take that as a good thing, Kelly was in bad enough shape as he was, Casey couldn't imagine having to nurse him through the flu on top of everything else. He got the blankets straightened out over Kelly and told him, "You take it easy and get some rest, I'll get the bathroom cleaned up."

"I'm sorry, Casey."

"It's alright. I'll be in to check on you later."

Before he left though, he picked up the waste basket and put it beside the bed incase Kelly needed it.

The rest of the night passed without incident, and by morning Kelly seemed to be back to whatever was 'normal' for him now. A couple days after that, he got up one morning, actually got out of bed, was actually engaging as he made his way to the kitchen, and then he suddenly stopped in his tracks in the hallway, and blankly stared ahead at the wall.

Something suddenly hit him with the force of an explosion. In that second he felt himself, saw himself, back in that diner on his hands and knees in the kitchen, screaming in pain.

Kelly felt a violent movement in his stomach, and as he snapped back to the here and now he turned and ran towards the bathroom and dropped down on his knees just in time to violently throw up.

Casey was in the room in a few seconds, he watched Kelly's whole body convulsing as the contents of his stomach were wretched out of him. He made his way over to his friend and knelt down behind him, rubbing his back, calmly talking to him, trying to get him to calm down and to breathe. By the time Kelly came up empty, his eyes burned with the tears that had been forced out of him and felt his whole body shaking.

"Easy, easy, it's alright, it's over," Casey told him as he slowly tried to get Kelly to his feet.

He helped Kelly over to the sink, he shakily rinsed out his mouth and blew his nose, and it was obvious he'd lost whatever strength he had a few moments ago. Casey walked him back to his room and got him settled in bed and advised him to take it easy that morning. He returned to the room a while later with a bottle of ginger ale and a bowl of saltines and found Kelly laying face down in the pillows, seemingly asleep.

"Kelly? Are you awake?"

He lightly nudged the man in the bed, who made a hard breathing sound as he slowly turned over.

"How're you doing?"

Kelly forced one eye open, then closed it again, "Fine, I feel better now."

"You want to get up?"

Kelly slightly shook his head and pulled the covers tighter against him.

"Okay...I brought you something to drink, and if you need anything, I'll be in the living room," Casey told him.

Kelly nodded weakly, "Okay...thanks, Matt."

"No problem."

Kelly woke up and it was dark. His neck hurt, his back hurt, he wasn't comfortable whatsoever, he was stiff, and sore, and cold...why was he cold? Where were the covers? As he felt around for the blankets, he made a startling discovery when his hand ran over cold tiling. He wasn't in bed, he was on a floor somewhere, where?

He quickly sat up and looked around in the darkness. Was this a dream? Was he back in the diner? No, no, he tried to convince himself he was not, he was in his apartment somewhere...somewhere, where? The kitchen? No, after spending one night under the kitchen table, he knew the tiling there didn't feel like this. So that left...the bathroom. Well what the hell was he doing in there in the middle of the night, on the floor? Had he been sick? He tried to think back. No, if he had been, he'd have left the lights on, and Casey sure as hell wouldn't have left him in the dark.

So what was it? Had he been sleepwalking?

Sleepwalking. That was a strange concept. He knew people did it, but he'd never done it...at least not that he knew of. Would he know if he did? But, he must've...he couldn't think of any other explanation for this situation he'd found himself in.

Kelly half crawled along the floor feeling for a wall, to get his bearings straight, find a light switch. He felt the wall and pressed his hands against it to push himself up to his feet. He felt along it and felt the doors to the cupboard with the washrags and extra soap. So he was close to the lights, that was good anyway. He wondered what time it was...obviously it was the middle of the night, but he couldn't remember falling asleep, or when. How long had he been in here and didn't even realize it?

Kelly found the light switch and flicked it up, the bright lights blinded him for a moment but his eyes adapted to the brightness, he looked around and saw the bathroom looked the same as it always did. He turned and saw the clock on the wall that said it was 2:40, but Kelly still couldn't remember when he'd fallen asleep. He looked down, and his eyes got wide, and he felt his heart racing in his chest, and felt as well as heard himself starting to breathe very heavily.

Matt Casey had been in his bedroom, blissfully asleep and unaware of anything that was going on. At first he thought it was just a dream that he could hear somebody screaming, but after a few seconds he realized it wasn't a dream, and his eyes flew open as he shot up in his bed, and quickly realized it was Kelly screaming. Casey jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom, which sounded like that's where Severide was. The door was shut but the lights were on, Matt flung the door open and rushed in and was met with a very confusing sight that troubled and concerned him.

Kelly was huddled in the middle of the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, and screaming at the top of his lungs, apparently at the sight of a bleach bottle that had spilled out from the cupboard under the sink and lay sideways on the floor. Casey had absolutely no idea what it was supposed to mean, but he struggled to pull his best friend up to his feet and put his arms around Kelly to try and get him to calm down, and when he realized that wasn't going to happen he slowly tried to extricate Kelly from the bathroom, hoping it'd help him to get away from...whatever it was in the room that was making him like this.

The next morning Casey found himself on the phone with Boden again, feeling even more at a loss now than before.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Chief, honestly I don't. I woke up in the middle of the night and found him in the bathroom freaking out about a jug of bleach on the floor. I don't know what's going on, and I really don't think he's getting any better. I'd hoped that once he got his stitches out that things would start to improve...but if anything I think he's just getting worse."

"Kelly's psychological injuries are going to take longer to heal than his physical ones did," Wallace reminded the Truck lieutenant. "If you're going to stay there and help him work through this, you're going to have to be patient with him."

"I'm trying, Chief, believe me," Matt responded. "But I'm not sure it's doing any good. It scares me to see him like this."

"Has he harmed himself?" Boden asked, "done anything to suggest he could be a danger to himself or anyone else?"

Casey shook his head even though he knew the battalion chief couldn't see it over the phone. "No."

Which meant there wasn't any way he could get Severide to Med to let Dr. Charles try his hand with him, he wouldn't go in voluntarily and he didn't meet any of the criteria for forcible admission, not that Matt would wish that on his best friend anyway.

"Just keep an eye on him," Boden reminded him, "and remember it'll have to be in his own time for him to open up about this."

Casey nodded, once again knowing the chief couldn't see him. He hadn't seen any proof Kelly might harm himself, but he wasn't taking any chances, and he'd already taken a few measures to help make sure it didn't happen.