Boden's heart plummets as he rolls up with Casey and Herrmann on the scene. He'd prayed they'd been misinformed, that it was an over exaggeration of a rookie paramedic responding to her first multi vehicle incident. There's no need for a life time of emergency response to horrific scenes to know there will be no happy ending for everyone here tonight. This is a mess and one of his own is allegedly in the mix. He's still praying for that miracle.

The three men quickly grab their gear that was hastily thrown in the back of Boden's truck as they fled the cabin- gear that has no business seeing the light of day on this trip, but may now prove invaluable. Casey and Herrmann fall in step behind him like wolves following their alpha as they prepare to defend the pack. One of their own is out there somewhere and in need of assistance; if ever they were training for something, this is it.

Boden extends his hand as he marches up to the scene commander. "Chief Wallace Boden, house fifty-one, Chicago. According to one of your paramedics, one of my men is involved in all of this." His hand gestures to the involved vehicles that resemble the ravaged skeletons of a scrap yard. His gaze settles on the blue tarps concealing three bodies on the side of the road.

"Captain Neil Letch," replies the scene commander, turning his head to see what's caught Boden's attention. The slight shake of Letch's head sends shockwaves of relief through Casey and Herrmann. Kelly isn't one of the poor souls wearing a body bag tonight. "It's a mess," he says sadly, "twenty-two people. You're guy's still pinned in the middle of all that." There's no guarantee that the situation will end any better, but there's still hope.

Boden doesn't envy the task before Letch. The cars and trucks are fused together in one giant tangle that needs to be carefully pulled apart while the clock is ticking against them.

"You look like you could use a hand," offers Boden. Regulated to watching is difficult at the best of times, but he takes comfort in that his guidance on scenes can make a difference. This is not his scene, he isn't in command so there's no better use for him than to put his hands to work.

"I'll take whatever I can get," says Letch, with a touch of relief. He turns to yell at Davis who's pulling a saw from the fire truck. "You're working on extracting the fireman?"

"Yeah, trying to. Probably just clearing space for the surgeon at this point."

The trio collectively hold their breaths. "Surgeon?" asks Boden. He can put the dots together but he hopes he's wrong.

"They're worried they won't be able to extract him from all of this before his stats drop too low," informs Letch apologetically.

"Where?" demands Boden.

Letch points out in the sea of crumpled metal. It's a mess of darkness and created in the absence of light and murky shades of red, and white pulses but out there in the middle is a steady flashlight and the figure of a paramedic perched on the wreckage. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Cara," waving her over.

She nods and turns back to her patient that only she's close enough to see.

"Casey, Herrmann, see what you can do to help," orders Boden as he waits with Letch for Cara's report.

"You got it Chief," acknowledges Casey. "Herrmann, go see if you can give them a hand moving some of these wrecks," suggests Casey. He turns to Davis, who's hefting a few tools in his hand. "Lead the way."

Casey and Cara exchange a silent nod of respect and appreciation as they pass each other.

"What's the situation?" asks Letch as Cara reaches them.

She looks longingly back at her patient. "We're running out of time. His stats are low but they're stable for the moment. I'm worried that the pressure from the wreckage is stemming the bleeding in his legs. If that's released, his pressure could plummet and he could code." There's no joy in her report and no scenario that seems destined for a perfect ending.

"You think it's time to get the surgeon in there?" asks Letch. Boden looks questioningly at the scene commander.

"That's up to the surgeon, but our window to get Kelly out safely is getting smaller."

"Why are we waiting?" demands Boden.

"Kelly wants to. If the surgeon goes in, he's going to remove most of Kelly's leg to free him. We all know what that means to his future working on squad," she says regrettably. "If we can get him soon he might keep it. I said I'd give him as much time as we could realistically wait."

Boden closes his eyes. He sympathizes with Kelly's position but first and foremost is the life of his officer. "Are we close?" he asks Letch.

"These vehicles have to be pulled apart in order to work on that car. We just can't get to enough access to it in that pile that we can cut him out properly in the time frame."

"Then we need to more these vehicles faster," Boden states, with fierce determination.


Casey follows Davis, climbing over crumpled and twisted metal that once resembled cars, trucks and unmarred lives. The closer he gets the more it hits him just what he's walking into. Kelly's the one trapped in those metal jaws threatening to tear him apart.

Casey crawls on his hands and knees across the roofs and hoods of the cars. He doesn't pay attention to the broken glass and sharp metal scattered a long his path. His turnout gear will protect him for the most part. All of his attention is lazar focused on the remains of the black mustang. His brain stutters to a stop as he gets a clear view of what they're dealing with. Normally he'd have a plan, a list of options and people he trusts to carry them out or make them better.

They're alone here.

Nothing comes to mind. "Severide is in trouble' and 'this is bad' are the only thoughts he's able to produce. They circle around his head like water down the drain until he swallows them down.

Davis positions himself near the passenger side of the car and readies his saw to start cutting away the roof. Casey hangs back a second to collect his thoughts. He'd no good to this situation if he brings fear and panic. Kelly's counting on him to provide a calm and steady hand.

Casey startles as a hand rests gently on his shoulder. "We'll get him out of this," assures Cara, catching up to them. Casey smiles tightly as she drops down in position next to Kelly and checks his vitals.

Carefully he lowers himself into the small open space between the driver's door and the back of the minivan. His boots splash loudly in the cold water pooled on the highway causing Kelly to try and turn to see who has joined them.

"This is a fine mess you're in Severide," he says stepping into Kelly's vision.

Kelly chuckles but it comes out more as a strangled cough than an expression of humour. The adage of 'if you're going to do something, do it right' that his grandmother always proclaimed runs through his head. If he's going to end up in a car accident he might as well go for one that destroys his career and possibly his life- no half measures. "I thought fishing might be too relaxing," replies Kelly with a small smirk. Levity is far safer than giving into the gnawing fear eating him up.

"Who's your friend?" asks Cara, nodding towards Casey.

"Casey, this is Cara. Cara meet Captain Matt Casey, house fifty-one."

"Chief, Captain. You're bringing out all the heavy hitters Kelly."

"We only need one homerun tongiht," hisses Kelly trying to find a more comfortable position without being able to move his head or neck and without jostling his shoulder. He looks Cara straight in the eyes, all of his hopes pinned in one look. "Just get me out of here in one piece."

"We're working on it Kelly," assures Cara.

"We're going to help," agrees Casey.

"We?" asks Kelly trying to look around.

"Boden and Herrmann are here too. We'll have you out of here in no time. You just have to hang on," pleads Casey.

Kelly grits his teeth. "I'm tryin'."

Everyone squints as a bright light explodes on the scene, chasing away the shadows. They all blink, adjusting to the spot light that's fallen on them.

"What's that?" asks Kelly, feeling all kinds of helpless.

"The spotlight from the helicopter. The surgeon needs to be able to see," reports Cara, sadly. Things are going to start moving fast now.

"Surgeon?" asks Casey, looking a little panicked. Cara nods slightly.

"In coming," reports Davis, looking out over the wreckage. The surgeon is carrying his med bag as he follows one of the firefighters over to them.

Cara places her hand over Kelly's. "It's going to be alright. He's just going to access the situation. We'll be right over there," she says warmly. She nods to the side, signaling Casey to follow her as she makes room for the surgeon to start his assessment.

Casey follows Cara until they're out of earshot but still able to keep an eye on Kelly. "If we can't get him out of here in the next half hour, he won't make it. And we can't get him out of here if he's stuck." She emphasizes the word stuck to drive home the point.

Casey looks out over the wreck seeing every obstacle that stands in the way of extraction. "Got it," he replies darkly. He points out to the sea of metal. "I'll take care of that, you just make sure Severide makes it home."