Thanks for your comments. They made me really happy. I hope you'll enjoy this one too.
(And yes, of course, it's Casey centric + whump.)
What happened? (Part 1 of 2)
A fog had rolled over Firehouse 51 during the night, covering the orange bricks of the house in a colourless curtain. It had been the first sign of the approaching winter season and combined with the brisk air and the cloudless sky, the fog had painted a picture in tender grey. Even in the early morning hours, the fog could still be discovered lingering nearby, but the orange rays of the morning sun were creating soft highlights on the red bricks, reminding everybody running past that autumn was not yet gone.
As Severide entered the building at 7 o'clock in the morning, he hadn't noticed any of the last sings of autumn. Too tired for nature's beauty, his only thought was of coffee.
'Morning,' he mumbled as he entered the kitchen. He noticed his squad team sitting together, idly chatting like old women during their Sunday brunch and rolled his eyes. The only one more talking were Cruz and Otis who apparently hadn't the decency to be quiet in the early morning hours. Supressing a bone rattling yawn, he finally grabbed a coffee from the counter, before he went to his regular seat next to Hadley.
'Late night?' Hadley asked. Severide nodded slowly, smiling lopsidedly into his coffee mug.
'So the tiny brown haired one with the big—", Hadley raised his hands in front of his upper body, grinning like a school boy, but Severide shook his head.
'No, the blonde one. Her best friend's cousin or something like that.' Hadley rolled his eyes in disbelieve and sighed.
'One day you have to teach me your dirty tricks, Severide.'
'Nah, that won't help as long as you look like this,' he laughed as his eyes suddenly caught the truck crew, sitting opposite of them. Hermann and Mouch were talking in fierce whispers while Cruz and Otis were constantly looking at their phones.
'What's going on over there?' Severide asked in confusion after Hermann had raised his phone to his ear for the third time.
'Casey's not here yet,' Capp said. Severide frowned and looked at his watch: 7:10 am. Casey was already ten minutes late.
'Probably overslept,' Severide said slowly, feeling his stomach twist.
'Mmh,' Capp said in response. 'Or he's got a flat tyre.' Severide turned
around, looking him sternly into his eyes.
'And he probably has got a flat phone too, huh? We're talking about Casey. He'd call if he had a flat tyre.' Capp shrugged his shoulders.
'If you're so concerned, then why don't you call him?'
'I'm not concerned,' Severide snapped, 'I'm annoyed that he apparently has lost his last sense of responsibility. Coming late and not calling. If he goes on like this, he'll lose his job.' Capp and Hadley exchanged glances. They both knew that Severide was indeed concerned, but after Andy's death his concern had taken the shape of anger.
'Whatever,' Severide said after seconds of silence. 'I'm in my office, doing some paperwork.' With one last glance at Hermann starring at his phone, he left the room, leaving the squad team and his cold coffee behind.
On the way to his office, he had to go through the locker room. It was a cold and lonely room as only the people who worked there knew that the grey lockers contained all the colours of their lives. Photographs, personal notes and dreams could be found on the inside, but the outside was nothing more but a metallic wall. Severide sighed as he stood in front of Casey's locker. For a moment he hesitated, but then he took the black lock into his hands. He knew the code. It was the same damn lock Casey had used during their time at the Academy when they had shared a locker. Severide took a deep breath, before he opened the locker with swift fingers.
With a click the locker opened.
Severide didn't know what to expect and yet he was disappointed to find it empty. Casey's duffle bag, which usually contained a change of clothes, wasn't there. Angry he slammed the locker shut. The metallic sound travelled loudly through the room while, without being aware, his right hand was reaching for the mobile phone in his trouser pocket. Only as his fingers hovered over Matt's name on the display, he stopped wondering if he really should call. But in the end he did. Clutching the phone tightly, he listened to the dial tone, before he could hear Casey's voicemail: 'This is Matthew Casey. Please leave a message. I'll call you back.'
'Dammit, Matt,' he punched against the locker. Why did he even care? He and Matt weren't friends anymore. Not after what had happened with Andy and especially not after Matt had slept with Heather. Severide put his phone back into his pocket as he dawned on him. Casey usually started the first shift of each week very early to do some of his paperwork. He'd already done this during their time at the Academy, learning and practicing while the other had still been asleep. While kicking himself mentally in the butt, Severide went to Casey's tiny office. The dumbass probably fell asleep, he though. Suits him right for getting up this early.
However, as he entered Casey's office, he was disappointed for the second time of that day. Casey wasn't there. He had never been. The papers were still untouched, the place cold and empty. Severide froze while his heart was pounding heavily in his chest. For the first time, he realised that something must indeed have happened and that he needed to check up on him.
Nearly running, he went to his office to get the key to Casey's home he still had. He remembered how Casey had given it to him when they had started together at firehouse 51. Awkwardly, Casey had asked if he would look after his things in case something would ever happen.
'Why me?,' Severide had asked in confusion, 'Why not give it to Haley?'
'Because,' Casey had looked to the floor, 'I'm not sure that Haley will always be there. But you will.'
Severide shook his head, dispelling his memories. He needed to focus now. At a rapid pace, he went to his office, only to stop at the doorframe when he saw Casey lying on his bed.
'What the—,' he whispered, standing still. His fingertips were tingling from the coldness his heart had sent out. As Casey was facing the door, Severide could see that the younger man had his eyes closed while his feet remained awkwardly on the ground, resulting in a half sitting/ half lying position that couldn't be comfortable. Slowly Severide approached the other man.
'Casey', he said.
'Matt?' Carefully, he placed his hand on the shoulder of the other man, shaking it a little bit. 'Wake up. Half the house is looking for you.'
With great effort, Casey opened his eyes.
'You're alright?' Severide asked without taking his eyes of Casey.
'Mmh,' Casey mumbled. His eyes were darting from one point to another, struggling to focus on the shadow in front of him. Slowly he pushed himself on his left elbow, before he could feel hands supporting his upper body until he was sitting upright.
'What happened?' Severide started again as he suddenly noted the change in Casey's pale complexion.
'I think I need to—,' Severide grabbed the bucket before Casey could finish his sentence, wincing involuntarily as the other man began retching. He looked to the right, giving Casey some room to empty his stomach, as Severide's eyes found something that let his hear beat faster.
'Is that blood on my pillow?' His eyes darted back to Casey. 'And on your shirt?' On Casey's collar, red dots of blood were placing themselves in strong contrast to his grey Lieutenant shirt.
'It sure is. Damn it,' Severide cursed, his eyes following the trail of blood from the collar to Casey's head. On Casey's left temple, Severide eventually found a small laceration. Severide gently pushed some hair from Casey's temple to the side. He noted that the blood was already dry, giving the blonde hair a muddy colour.
'Ow,' Casey moaned softly. 'Stop that.' He raised his hand slowly to push Severide's fingers away, but as his hand was unusually heavy, he simply dropped it into his lap again. Severide clicked his tongue.
'Look at me.' Putting his right hand on Casey's left cheek, he turned the other man's face into his direction to examine the wound more closely. The other man closed his eyes.
'Dizzy?,' Severide asked in concern. As Casey opened his eyes again, he saw that the pupils were slightly dilated.
'You hit your head.' Severide said.
'Did I?' Casey asked and raised his hand again to touch his temple, but was stopped before he could reach the wound.
'Yeah.' Severide licked his lips. "Wait here for a sec and I tell the others that I found you. And let me get Shay, okay?' He stood up and looked at the other man, who was sitting on his bed, lost and confused, before he added: "And don't touch your head." Casey nodded and closed his eyes for a second. His head was still pounding, and he felt dizzy. As he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Shay's green eyes close to him.
'Hey there,' Shay greeted friendly. Severide immediately recognised her voice as her everything-is-going-to-be-alright-just-keep-calm-patient-voice. It unsettled him.
'How are you feeling?' She shone a light at first into his left then into his right eye. But Casey was distracted as he starred at Hermann, who was standing with tight lips and clutched hands in the doorframe.
'Casey?!'
'Huh?' he looked back to Shay, feeling like he'd missed something.
'How are you feeling,' she repeated.
'Fine, I guess.'
Severide snorted. 'Try again.' Casey wrinkled his forehead.
'What?' he finally asked, before his brain caught up. 'Oh, how I feel. Dizzy, I guess.'
'That's all?'
'And a bit tired', he shrugged his shoulders. All those questions only increased his headache.
'And pain?' Severide suggested.
'Yeah, that one too.' Casey nodded slowly, not seeing how Severide rolled his eyes. 'But I am fine.'
'The hell you are,' Shay mumbled. 'But you are lucky. You won't need stiches.' Carefully she began to clean the wound before applying a butterfly bandage. As Shay was working in silence, the air became heavy with unanswered questions. Suddenly Severide was nudged by Hermann who gave him a clean Lieutenant shirt. 'What happened?'
Severide just shrugged his shoulders. 'Don't know.' He looked at the shirt in his hands, 'But thanks for this.' Herman nodded and retreated to the doorframe, still eyeing Casey in concern.
They both waited until Shay finished her task, before Severide gave Casey his shirt.
'Thanks.'
'No problem.' Severide waited for a second, before he continued, 'Can you remember what happened?'
All eyes were fixed on Casey, who clutched the shirt in his hands, biting his lip. Severide sighed and crossed his arms.
'Do you remember why you went to my room?' he asked, but again Casey shook his head.
'He's got a concussion,' Shay said. 'He probably won't be able to remember anything from the . . . accident.' She turned around, now facing Casey instead of Severide.
'What's the last thing you can remember?'
Casey closed his eyes, trying to remember anything at all.
'I ate noodles and went to bed,' he finally said. 'That was last night, I guess. But I can't remember anything afterwards.'
'Well, you definitely used your car to come here. I saw your truck outside,' Herman quipped in.
Casey sighed, rubbing his eyes. 'Sorry, I really don't know what happened. And sorry for ruining your bed.' He added, looking at Severide. 'I'll buy you a new pillow. And a mattress.'
'Yeah, Matt. Because that's so important right now.' Severide rolled his eyes, as he suddenly spotted something on the ground. He bent down and picked it up.
'That's your mobile, isn't it?' he said, looking at the broken screen, before handing it over. 'Looks like you dropped it.'
But Casey didn't listen. His eyes were fixed on the device.
'I think, I can remember. I think, I know what happened,' he whispered, still starring at his phone.
'Yeah?' Severide asked. 'Let's hear it'.
'Story time,' Shay said, sitting down next to Casey, who had placed his head into his left hand. He was exhausted and his head hurt, but he pulled himself together and started sharing his memories. After a short time, Severide finally understood what had happened.
TBC
