AN: This along with a couple other interstitial chapters will build up the momentum to Dawson and Severide's secret being exposed to the firehouse as a whole. Thank you again for reading. I just couldn't leave Kelly falling like that...
Shay was wearing a hole in the hospital floor. Dawson sat quietly. Her bottom lip pulled in and fists clenched over the armrests. They'd had no word for hours. Chief had sent truck and squad home for rest. Casey had protested but everyone was exhausted and Chief was still Chief. He told the boys to come back in the morning. He had no hope of executing that command with the paramedics. Shay was Severide's next of kin and Dawson was doing such impressive work as a calm and placid statue, tempering Shay's more extravagant outbursts to the nursing staff he didn't want to fathom what the waiting room would look like without her. It was such a role reversal. Usually Shay was holding Dawson back from an altercation but under the current circumstances...
"They should have let me do more! Why the hell-"
"Shay. You know you're too close. They could never allow it" Dawson cut in, her eyes turned to Chief with more than a little concern. They were all still in their uniforms from the job. Severide's blood was on Dawson's cheek and Shay's palms. She couldn't remember how that had happened. No one had told her. Something like shock and autopilot took over when Hermann had cried out and Shay had run and Firehouse 51 had picked up their squad lieutenant with their own hands and transported him to an ambulance. No regard for protocol. Shay had begun a recitation of his medical history and Dawson had stabilized his neck, thinking of his most recent surgery and they had willed the last few hours away with prayers and curses. Dawson was maybe still on autopilot. Maybe still numb. In her head she was processing the brief images of him at the scene. Dazed. In and out of consciousness. Hands flailing before the sharp quiet of lethargy as he dropped off and Shay screaming so very unprofessionally and all the small practical things that took over. Oxygen mask. Pulse check. Blood pressure.
To her mind, Severide probably had a spinal fracture, a concussion, internal bleeding and a very long road of recovery ahead of him when he woke up. Dawson stressed that to herself. When. It wasn't fear. It wasn't foolish hope. She had seen him. His eyes flicking back and forth, his arms moving which meant he had partial mobility and any fracture was nowhere near his neck. Therefore when not if. Inwardly she stewed with concern, her heart leaping into her throat. With her brother she had been panicked, screaming like Shay and begging for help. This time, she was the help.
"Shay," she said hoarsely. Her friend turned to look at her. "Go home. Grab a shower. Get him some clothes. He's going to hate the hospital gowns if he has to be here awhile. You can do that for him." and i still can't. Dawson's eyes flicked to Chief who stared them both down like insubordinate trainees. The blonde went to protest but Chief approved and Dawson watched Shay's eyes widen in dismay. She was Severide's person. She had to be here. She was supposed to be here. Dawson could see all the words playing over and over in her head.
"You will be the first call I make if I hear anything. I promise Shay." It was an easy thing to give. There was no one else she could break down to about Severide. It was coming, she could feel the crest of emotion rising; it had been too many hours of quiet in a building of action and blood. Dawson stood up to pull Shay into a brisk hug repeating all her promises as Chief hovered.
Together, she and Chief watched Shay walk away, rubbing tears from her eyes. Dawson let out a sigh.
"Severide is as strong as an ox" Chief said without preamble. Dawson looked up.
"But he's not impervious. This on top of that other neck injury… sir" she knew he said what he did for his own comfort and not her own. Firefighters dealt with their potential demise a little differently than paramedics. Probably had a lot to do with running headlong into actual fire and danger everyday. She smiled dimly. It certainly made some of them cocky. "The truth is sir, he fell from the third floor well within the serious injury to certain death range of terminal velocity. He made it to the hospital alive. He didn't even code. That's as lucky as he gets."
Chief gave Dawson a brief glance riddled with irritation and annoyance.
"There is no such thing as luck." He looked like he wanted to say more but a doctor appeared and Chief strode forward with that air of command he carried like a cloak when the man said "Family of Lieutenant Severide" The look on his face was placid, Dawson noted. Not the face of someone bearing bad news and reluctant to share it. She decided to wait thirty minutes before calling Shay. Chances were she had not even retrieved her car yet. Whatever this man was about to say. It seemed Severide was out of immediate danger.
"He's stable. In a medically induced coma for the next 36 hours so we can monitor the concussion, there doesn't seem to be too much swelling but given his prior injuries, we are acting with an abundance of caution. One broken tibia. Three broken ribs. It's too early yet to talk about paralysis because he's in the coma but you should know he was responding to stimuli when assessed for sensation in his extremities."
"Can we see him?" it was the only question she could think to ask. Everything else was wait and see and follow ups and at least two months out for recovery and PT. He is going to be unbearable she thought. She was relieved when the doctor nodded and they followed him back through the bustling halls of Lakeshore's post-op wing. Dawson let Chief go in first. Let him glean whatever information he needed to make a full report on Severide's medical leave. She was frozen outside the room door. She was concerned about pain. Concerned about how he'd self medicated before and how these injuries were far worse and pain management usually meant some heavy duty narcotics and how she was going to help. Because she was definitely going to help Shay not get Severide spun out on meds again. Nope not happening. Dawson began to make plan after plan hoping to quiet the rapid pace of her heart. Hoping like hell she wasn't about to break down after hours of staying so very calm.
She blinked when Chief came out, told her he had to make some calls. Practically ordered her not to leave Severide alone just in case. The just in case comment made her want to punch something but no matter. She wasn't leaving so she bobbed her head affirmatively and braced herself. Watched Chief stride down the hall before she opened the door and slipped inside.
Dawson was not prepared. She should have been given her career, but seeing Severide completely still, bandaged head to toe, bruised from surgery and impact and still. It ripped the cover off what had held her terror back and she muffled her agonised scream behind shaking palms. It was her brother all over again. It was watching someone she cared about come so close to not being there and their retrieval from the unknown looking like absolute hell.
"Kelly…. Cariño…" it slipped from her mouth unbidden as she knelt at his bed, held his left hand between both of hers and kissed his wrapped knuckles. First degree burns she imagined. Or else cuts from glass breaking through a window. Or some other stupidly Severide thing that got the rescue done in record time while risking his body more than wise. Dawson strangled out curses and demanded he wake the fuck up already so she could shake the shit out of him for scaring her so badly.
"Um. Miss..?" Dawson turned so abruptly she fell against the bed. Hastily she wiped her eyes and sniffled. The young nurse was looking at her kindly, with pity. It raised her hackles. Made her want to lash out but she couldn't. It was all too much. Too overwhelming. She didn't know what to do for him and paralysis was the worst form of torture to her.
"I know Doctor Stephenson said you could see him but visiting hours are- ."
"I'm not leaving!" She sounded shrill. Sounded like an unhinged and overwrought family member. Looking at this entire situation from outside her own head, Dawson understood how insane she appeared and still couldn't muster the energy to be calm. Not even knowing rationally that Chief could reappear at any moment and she was seconds away from an involuntary sedative dose gave her caution. "He just fell out of a building and you want me to leave him alone?" her voice cracked.
It was saying it out loud that made Dawson register what horrified her the most. The idea that Severide would be alone, trapped in his body and his bruised skull with no one there for comfort. She held onto Severide's hand and shook her head and willed herself under control. She breathed in and out and looked right at the nurse, whose name tag said 'Peg' and Dawson could simultaneously acknowledge that she'd never met Peg before in her years at 51 and resent that this was the worst possible first impression she could probably make to a fellow medical professional.
"Peg…" she cleared her throat and tried again. "Firefighters don't leave their own behind. It's just not done. I am sorry for the outburst but I am not leaving. You might as well roll a cot in here because once his tiny blonde windstorm of a best friend shows up in about an hour, I'm going to seem like a cakewalk". Dawson smiled then and it probably looked manic but it couldn't be helped. Shay would have done far worse to Peg and probably still would.
"Then you should probably get off the floor"
To Peg's credit, there was more concern than sarcasm in her statement. The woman kneeling in front of her was clearly distraught and trying for equanimity. She was also clutching the patient's hand in a death grip. Her attachment to the patient was clear in the tear streaks and smudged mascara she fought so vainly to hide. "I'll even bring you a spare set of scrubs and a towel. You're covered in blood." And with practiced ease, Peg lifted Dawson from her knees, shuffled her to the bathroom and closed the door.
It was there in the cold and antiseptic bathroom that Dawson finally confronted herself. The fluorescent lighting did her dark circles no favours. The mirror was small and streaked. Her hair was all flyaways. Eyes and nose running. And the startling red handprint that swallowed half her left cheek was smeared dry against her tan skin. Severide's blood. She gingerly placed her palm over it. A flash of memory assailed Dawson. He'd reached for her. In the midst of his confusion and flailing with pain, before he collapsed on the way to the ambulance. Severide had looked right at her.
Dawson gawked at her reflection. Oh you are well and truly fucked girl. It was time to call in Shay.