AN: Hi hi! Did you know that in one recent study in a metropolitan area, paramedics are on average, 12 times as likely to be assaulted on the job than their firefighter counterparts? That their job training does not include what to do when faced with a combative patient or how to protect themselves? That there is no standard for how to mitigate the trauma of repeated altercations with a patient who uses EMS as their only avenue of healthcare? That job-related illness or injury rates were on average 19% as opposed to 1.3% in the general population?
Just some research I came across as I was sourcing inspiration for writing this chapter and the other Chicago Fire fanfic I started. And hey! I didn't torture you guys for another month! Progress. As per usual, thank you for reading and reviewing and in general, keeping me honest. If you don't follow Monica Raymund on twitter. Start now. She posted a picture with Taylor Kinney that had my head spinning. Major props to PilyMiriam for bringing it to my attention. Just... that look in her eyes. I have writing thoughts.
Disclaimer: All characters but Angie are the work of Dick Wolf et al.
Boden's day had gone to complete shit and it wasn't even noon. Casey was irritated with him, the brass wanted to scold him for organising a boxing tourney and just then, Mills was standing resolute with pink transfer papers and a calm look of disdain across the desk from him. If Boden had believed in the concept of karma, he'd have demanded a recount from Buddha. He was so plainly irritated at this juncture that he loomed half over his desk, fists planted on its dark wood surface, a vein ticking in his temple like a metronome. Mills didn't cower in the slightest.
"I do not accept this."
"With all due respect sir, I think your opinion is prejudicial."
"I don't give a damn what you think. You're still a probie. There is nowhere to transfer to!"
"Sir."
The one word response was a chide. Mills had yet to express his inner anger and resentment. Boden broke first, his temper flaring, his stance overbearing and belligerent, while Mills stood at attention staring at the back wall, his stance military correct. All that was proper and just as annoying while Boden glared a hole through the back of his traitorous throat.
"Explain to me how this helps you then?"
"I don't want to be used as a way to heal your guilt"
"Peter…"
"She cried for months and we didn't know why."
"Your father..."
"He was home. He'd come back and still."
Boden swallowed the words of whatever defense he thought to muster and sat back down. He stared at the young man in front of him. The spitting image of Ingrid. He couldn't find Henry to save his damn life in Mills' young naive face. His stubbornness? That was becoming more and more evident in the quiet way he'd seethed around the firehouse. How he'd known of the affair and kept quiet. Then blown up at his mother who turned around and told Boden to fix it. That none of this would have happened if he hadn't been such a damn coward.
"Leaving doesn't solve anything and hurts your career."
"I beg to differ. This firehouse is a mess. Casey dictates the way you run things and he's not someone I'm keen to learn from at the moment if I ever did."
Boden paused over that last statement. He was more aware now of his lieutenants' love lives than he ever wanted to be and how it was affecting their subordinates. And Mills had dated Dawson, however briefly. Casey wouldn't lash out at a probie. Would he?
Just then a dog's mournful howl sounded through the office and Mills immediately turned around to see Pouch, sitting at the end of the hallway, his eyes on someone's food in the kitchen.
"If you leave you're taking him. It's your fault we have Pouch in the first place" Boden remarked dryly even as he scrambled to think of a way to fix what had been broken for too damn long. Losing a probie and a lieutenant was out of the question. And if rumour ran true, it'd be a lieutenant, a probie and a paramedic. The firehouse would suffer and so would his men. He stared up at Mills, trying to find a solution that his young accusing eyes refused to give.
ʘ
Dawson and Shay were silent in the ambulance on the way back from a medical call downtown. The tiny blonde paramedic had finally unloaded all of her damage and woe about Angie. They were done. Over. She'd done this while she was driving, that small bit of control shielding her eyes from Dawson's piercing scrutiny. It wasn't like her to hold back. She knew that. Dawson knew that but shit if things hadn't gotten complicated once she started swapping spit with Kel. Shay figured that's why Dawson still hadn't peppered her with a whole lot of questions. They had yet to truly clear the air about Dawson's ultimatum. The cab of the ambulance was quiet in the most awkward sense. Shay had said they were good but good was relative and Dawson's eyes drilling into the side of her head were giving her a blinding tension headache, her hands clutched around the steering wheel like a racecar driver, locked at ten and two.
"Okay! Talk!" Shay barked suddenly.
She couldn't stand the hovering energy. The querulous quietude. Dawson being silent was so so bad. It was silently plotting murderous revenge bad like that one time she'd set her up on a blind date and they'd gone three shifts without speaking a word that wasn't about work.
"You do realize that your need for complete control is why this happened, right?"
Shay tried not to grind her teeth and held her tongue in her cheek, waiting for Dawson to continue.
"I mean, not for nothing Shay, since I tried to stage manage Mills and look how that turned out. You really hurt Angie. What do you wanna do?"
"Do?!" Shay couldn't help sounding incredulous. Doing anything seemed to be where she got things very very wrong with everyone.
"Yeah. Do you want to give her space? Do you plan to reach out when you're both less raw? Do you want to get sloppy drunk on margaritas off shift and start forgetting her? You're miserable. I wanna help".
Shay pulled up to a red light and looked across at Dawson, uncertainty plain to be seen on her face. Dawson seemed sincere. She had no agenda but friendship as far as Shay could tell. Perhaps this was a way to repair their fraying bond. Perhaps letting Dawson in after months of guarded censure would make things finally absolutely okay. Shay stared, her thoughts scrambling through contingencies in her head, until Dawson's smile withered, and she ducked her eyes away from Shay's gaze.
"You're serious?"
"Yeah you can even drag me to a lesbian bar. I'll say I'm bisexual" Dawson joked.
"You are bisexual"
"No, you just want me to be" Dawson teased lightly. "Come on Shay. What do you need?"
Dawson's voice was soft and kind. Shay felt her cheeks go hot as the traffic light turned green and she switched into gear to move forward. Something embarrassingly obvious had just occurred to her. Something that latched onto an emotion she felt unconsciously but had clearly never addressed properly to herself. She was attracted to Dawson. They'd never discussed it. One, because Shay would never ever hit on a coworker, especially not a superior. So Dawson didn't know. Two, because it was obvious from day one hour one that Dawson wanted Casey. Three, Shay wasn't a fan of putting herself out there even if there was a chance Dawson could have reciprocated. She really did have bad gaydar. But the revelation wasn't that Shay was attracted to Dawson. She knew this. Knew that her fierce loyalty and love for the woman was all tangled up in that unrequited chemistry. What seemed to have pissed her off more than anything else in the debacle that was Kelly and Dawson, was their intimacy. She was, to her complete and utter shame, furiously jealous of Kelly and how he got to know Dawson. Know her mouth and her body and all the small, sweet things lovers knew simply because he had the right equipment. He got to have all of her and did. He really fucking did and they were both being idiots and she wanted them to stop but the crux of her issue with their relationship had just opened a door in her psyche and said: Bitch you fucked uppppp.
Shit. She'd stuffed her desire for Dawson so way down in her mind. Locked the door. Padlocked it. Because you know, control. And because she couldn't have the one she wanted, she dated Clarice. A different cute brown-eyed brunette who'd ravaged her emotionally. Twice. And on and on until Angie. Another brunette, wild and careless and tender by degrees. Her complete opposite in height and temperament and profession and she's ruined their relationship with irrational jealousy. With her bad, bleak karma. She was afraid as well. Shay realised she thought that Angie would do what Clarice did. And so she'd wrangled every corner of their relationship down to hospital corners on a bed only she slept in seeking a way to be okay with her friends falling in love and leaving her behind. Trying to be okay when panic climbed up her throat imagining all the what-ifs and fallout and of course she wanted Kel to be happy. Of course she did. It was just her own stupid desires that had muddled her message. With a wince Shay understood how much like Casey she'd been acting and regret threatened to rob her of breath. Now she understood why Kel didn't believe her when she said she wanted him to be happy. She'd wanted it on her terms. She'd said that Casey would never forgive him for sleeping with Dawson but she should have said it was her. She was the one who couldn't handle how close to home each friend had found love. She imagined Kel's face at Molly's that last time. His frustrated disgust with her and then Dawson….
Shay swallowed quietly, aware that Dawson was waiting for an answer. Dawson was actually being quiet and thoughtful despite her tendency to ramble about herself. Dawson, one of her best friends, who was fucking her other best friend and she was, underneath it all, feeling hurt and betrayed that it couldn't be her. What a joke.
"I think I need to be alone. Actually."
Shay's voice sounded weak and brittle to her own ears. It needed to be said though. She'd latched on so tight to Kel and Dawson as family she'd unconsciously despised their connection. That was flat out wrong. As she finally turned the last corner towards the station house she flung a small smile Dawson's way.
"I'll take a raincheck on the margaritas though"
ʘ
Dawson left Shay cleaning up the ambo and was more than a little concerned. Shay had looked pale and flushed by turns. She was clearly not sleeping well in the breakup aftermath and if it went on long enough, there would need to be an intervention. She sincerely hoped it didn't come to that. Shay was her friend despite all recent evidence to the contrary. It didn't matter that they disagreed about oh the fundamental need she had for Kelly in her life. Shay was family. She'd show up when necessary.
But right now she needed to find Sev and a quiet corner and a long overdue talk. God. She hated talks. They always came out like lectures and she wanted to be cool and nonchalant but neither of them were chill people. Go figure. Her phone beeped while she was turning a corner into the kitchen and as she looked down, Dawson bumped into a body coming from the opposite direction.
"Ow"
"Sorry. So sorry"
Dawson went rigid as she glanced up at Casey who was neatly followed by Mills. All of them standing in the doorway, awkward and froze, Casey's hands on her upper arms to keep her from falling. Casey was staring at her and Dawson felt acutely aware of the fact she'd never texted him back. And for better or worse this was still Casey. Casey who she'd-
"Dawson? You okay?"
It was Mills' voice that jogged her out of her stupor. He stepped forward with her phone which had clattered to the floor in the collision. Dawson pulled herself from Casey's arms with a silent tug, her large eyes incredulous. She had most definitely not forgiven him the latest hot and cold routine. She was a silly idiot sometimes. Dawson copped to her flaws and deep though she loved Sev, a strange tremor of desire still ran thru her with close proximity to Casey. She resented it but it was there. Dawson spared a long grateful glance at Peter for saving her from complete stupidity. She needed to find Sev. Now.
"Yeah Mills. Thanks. Have you seen Severide?"
Was it awkward asking the whereabouts of your current lover from your ex-lover while in front of the one guy you'd always lusted after? Yes. But such was her life, bets on her sexual escapades in the firehouse and all. Like the telenovelas her aunt probably still watched. If Mills couldn't handle it. Tough luck. Except Mills didn't look put out. In fact he smiled with a glance at the back of Casey's head like they shared a secret and Dawson could have sworn that smile was the slightest bit evil. Did her Peter have a dark side she'd never glimpsed?
"Yeah he's in officer's quarters lying down if you want him."
The smirk on his face confirmed it. Mills was evil and trying to taunt Casey. Why, she could care less, but any drama that wasn't her relationship was much appreciated these days. She didn't spare Casey another glance as the lieutenant turned around to give Mills a speaking look of displeasure.
"I do. I need him right now, Thanks again Mills"
When she got to the officer's rooms, Dawson broke protocol. She closed and locked the door. This jarred Sev from his light doze, blue eyes dulled with sleep and speech slurred while her heart melted just the tiniest bit more. She hated to do this but,
"We need to talk about last night. Among other things"
Other things being the Casey text of course and the fact that she was so fucking in love with him bedhead made her heart melt into wax. What the fuck. Dawson watched Sev sit up slowly on the cot with a smirk on his face.
"Last night you came so hard you passed out Bri. Not sure what there is to discuss"
Ugh. Damn the man for reducing her to wet panties and thigh tremors. The sex was not the issue. She leaned against the wall and didn't step closer while Sev stretched and woke up properly.
"You were upset Sev. You didn't say a word. You still haven't said anything that makes sense about why you were like that. I'm worried. Should I be worried about you?"
She knew the answer was yes. Sev using sex to obliterate all other issues was kind of the definition of something has gone horribly, terribly wrong and I don't want to discuss it. The assplay added a sharper edge to his psychological state. Or maybe she was reading too much into it. It was possible but Sev asking if she trusted him in that moment was telling. Her answer and the way her body had responded was beside the point to her. Sev was back to feeling uncertain again and his silence just then spoke volumes. He scraped a hand across his face and blinked up at her. Silent. Dawson had had enough staring for the last thirty minutes.
"Can you stop being the macho asshole for maybe five minutes Kelly?! God! Sometimes you are so damn-"
"Why were you crying?"
Dawson's face collapsed from anger to confusion as quickly as her temper flared.
"What?"
"You've cried exactly three times that I've seen since we got together. That first night in January. After Joseph died in the building collapse. During sex after the bar fight. The last time. Why?"
Dawson was stunned. Also mortified. She didn't want to think that her crying had been bugging Kelly for this long but clearly it had. That night… it had ended so awfully after such a wonderful day. She'd already known she loved him but…
"I loved that day," she began quietly, working her way up to an explanation that would appease him but protect her. She pulled the chair out at the desk and sat down, leaning forward, elbows braced on her thighs.
"We spent the entire day together and I enjoyed every minute of it. I thought I'd get sick of you since we see each other all the time but instead we had the perfect day." Dawson paused to smile at Sev but her face unraveled looking into his eyes. He looked completely ashen.
"What are you hiding from me?"
"A couple things," Dawson answered honestly. "but so are you. That's why we're sitting here."
She watched him cup his face in his palms and breathe out deeply. Her fingers twisted in her lap. She wanted to reach out but knew she shouldn't. Whenever Sev got wound up it was better to let him parse his own emotions, to give him space and she still wasn't sure where space ended and abandonment began with him. Dawson was concerned with making sure he knew she was present. That she was here for him.
"Look. I have a shit record with relationships but I have never ever set out to hurt anyone. Did I hurt you in some way? Is that why you were crying? Did you want to stop? You just fucking fell apart and didn't say anything…"
"No! Oh my god Sev no"
Dawson slid to the floor between Sev's knees her hands braced on each cheek as his arms snarled around her waist, holding her tight. His face had crumpled into an embarrassed wreck she'd never seen. It shook her. Her big strong guy looked absolutely devastated at the idea he'd injured her. He'd bottled it up and pretended he was fine. Gone about being classic Severide while inside he'd been flailing just as much if not more than she was. Why the fuck couldn't they get past this hurdle? She kissed him until he leaned into her with a groan his hands fumbling under her shirt for skin to skin contact, Dawson pulled back slowly.
"I told you I was yours remember?" Her lips hovered over his. She listened to him gasp for air. "We never even talked about being exclusive. We just went with it and then I told you I was yours and you… didn't say it back."
He'd said mine to be precise and then fucked her like the stallion he was and she'd lost herself under his expert touch. To the way he'd spread her wide open and vulnerable and all her pent up emotion had released itself in a volley of tears. It was the moment she realized how far she had fallen in love with him and he'd accused her of not believing in them just three hours earlier. It should have felt amazing to be be so hyper-aware of how much she loved him. But he'd devastated her mind and then her body and it had all left her shaking with the intensity of everything she knew to be true in that moment.
"So I did hurt you. Fucking A…"
Dawson yelped as Sev dragged her into his lap. Her thighs straddled his hips while his left hand was braced against the small of her back, the fingers of his right hand tracing her lips.
"I'm sorry baby. I'm really sorry. "
"You said it eventually."
"Two fucking days ago!"
Sev could be sweet. Dawson knew this. He hugged and kissed her often. Was always physically touching her if at all possible anytime they were within three feet of each other. He often did it in his brusque, possessive way but right now he was tender. It didn't shock her but it did overwhelm which wouldn't make sense to anyone outside of their equation. Their jobs made them tough, a little coarse around the edges at times, but her beautiful man's callused hands were tracing all over her body like she was glass. Like she was the pretty crystal vase you put on a high shelf to collect dust and look at but shouldn't really ever touch. For once she liked it and wanted to curl up in his arms but,
"What brought this on? What was last night about?"
"I spoke to Antonio…" he muttered reluctantly.
Dawson jerked upright in Sev's embrace. She did not just hear that. She did not just hear,
"You went to my brother? Instead of talking to me?!"
"You shut down!"
"Pot meet kettle." Dawson retorted.
She could see the moment where Sev realized he was well and truly caught in his own defense, more annoyed than anything. Their similarities were also their constant and consistent failures. And just like that they went from sweet and tender to indignant and bickering. Dawson braced her hands on Sev's neck. She stared straight into his beautiful blue eyes, her hands insistent at his pulse.
"What did Tonto say?"
"Bri."
"What. Did. He. Say."
She watched while Sev hesitated. Probably hamstrung by some kind of bro code or downright actual shame because it somehow made him look weak. She waited. She was good at waiting him out and Sev looked genuinely upset to even be having the conversation. Which made sense because she had cried that night. A lot. To her chagrin. However now as she asked him to tell her exactly what happened, Sev's whole posture was a long squirming line of but I made you cry so I deserved it. It being whatever her brother said to Sev that made him the silent, possessed demon who showed up at her door last night. Dawson had finally had it. She'd been done days ago when she ripped into Shay and long before then.
She was not a weepy and insecure person. She felt things deeply but not widely. She did not give her time and energy to just anyone and she was as done with Severide's walls as she was with her own. Forget embarrassment or pain. The sheer ineptitude of their actions as a couple would drive her mad if she didn't do something. She'd been letting things slide, saying things were okay when they were most definitely not okay. She was loving this idiot with her whole self and scared he didn't feel the same way. And here he was afraid to ask her why she'd been crying two whole months ago. Enough was enough.
Reckless impetuous Dawson glared at her boyfriend where fragile soft-hearted Dawson had been hedging for weeks. She disentangled herself from Severide because she needed all her brain cells to articulate what she wanted to say next. She was annoyed and frustrated and fed up but she was not going to do this half-assed. Time to rip off a couple of bandaids and let some wounds heal out in the open and on their own.
"Fine. I'll tell you what Casey said to me then."
She watched Sev's nostrils flare and his eyes go wide. He moved to stand and she raised her hand against him. Dawson pointed her finger at the cot and Sev eased back onto it, visibly upset with her mention of Casey. Too. Damn. Bad. She couldn't help her past anymore than he could his and she'd flat out said she trusted him.
"You didn't want to talk so now you're going to listen. I was sincere when I said we had things to discuss."
Her palms were sweating and she chose to stand because, well, it seemed better to have the high ground when your lover was a 6 foot hunk of gorgeous whose very presence tended to short circuit your basic brain function. She was nervous and didn't know any way to ease into this even if she was a little angry.
"Casey said he loved me. That he's always loved me. That he's wanted to kiss me every morning of every shift and every day in between since the day we met. That he's heartbroken. And also still messed up about Voight. About me and Voight. How Voight crushed his faith in the basic decency of public servants. How he feels guilty because he doesn't miss Hallie at all but she was safe and sweet and good and he wanted to be good. Do good. He told me he was afraid he wouldn't live up to all my fantasies and expectations. That i'd think he was boring and too much of a damn boy scout and how he wants to be normal"
She watched while Severide went more and more rigid on the cot. His whole posture a work of Greek statuesque, jaw square and hard as his fists tightened in the sheets underneath him. But Dawson couldn't stop. She needed her own doors to be wide open. For everything to be visible and known even if it hurt because she was not a small and timid person. She could not allow her doubts to keep her quiet anymore.
"Casey told me everything"
She didn't mean it as a taunt and she hadn't always been completely forthright but she was doing it now and she hoped he could meet her halfway. She was going to say every little thing she'd hidden and let him handle it however he could.
"And yes, I love him. A part of me is always going to love him. Just like you gave pieces of yourself to Renee Whaley and Royce. My God Sev. You've been engaged and nearly left the country! No one has ever loved me like that! I'm the girl the guy thinks he wants but doesn't try. I'm never good enough! Just the intense chick starring in lewd bedroom fantasies. Did you hear me Sev? Casey said he loves me!"
Dawson's chest was heaving and she was probably yelling a little, spinning her way up through anxiety because Casey was the only reason there were boxing tryouts. He was why Antonio hovered and also why she was so certain she'd follow Sev wherever he went. Casey was both the catalyst and the cancer, eating at their relationship from the inside out. And Dawson watched Severide retreat into his mask as she spoke, so she kept on talking, saying it all. Saying it whole and true and terrifying.
"I know what you're thinking. Don't forget I fucking see you." and she did. For better or worse, Sev's flaws were of a known and quantifiable quality. She couldn't fix Sev because to her there was nothing to fix.
"You're thinking Casey is manipulating me and I'm falling for it. You're thinking this is all one big buildup to some sort of insult or ultimatum where I manipulate you and we start on another round of fights about the one thing we both know to be obvious. Yeah! I have loved Casey! But Sev…"
Dawson heard her voice crack and swallowed briefly while she shook her head furiously. This was not the moment to be weak and Severide was so quiet and stoic and staring up at her. She leaned back on the door, her hand clutched over the doorknob to keep her upright while she slapped her chest with her other palm.
"I don't want perfect and I don't want to be perfect! I don't understand his concept of normal and I can't love a fantasy anyway. I'm falling in love with you. I've been falling in love with you since you fell out a third floor window and it broke me. The second time I cried was actually on the floor of your hospital room. A nurse had to pick me up. I was hysterical. I was mortified. You make me feel so damn fucking much I spent half my days with my heart ripped from my chest for months after. Some days I still do. You make an emergency tracheotomy on a five year old feel like a calm and downright peaceful event. I am falling for you and I keep falling and I'm petrified and I love you."
Sev didn't say a word while Dawson caught her breath for a second.
"We need to talk to each other. Our relationship is about us. Not Shay or Casey or my brother. Us."
She scrutinized him carefully, half terrified but too flushed with nerves to show it. She'd probably fucked it all up. She should have-
Firehouse 51. Truck 81. Ambulance 61. Three alarm Structural Fire. 1057 N. Western Avenue Squad 3 Standby
She turned to leave without a second glance. It wasn't cowardice. It was her job and there was nothing left to say if he didn't have anything to say back. She hadn't told him that she never reciprocated Casey's declaration of love. The answer should have been obvious given her speech but knowing her knucklehead brother and how smooth he was with words, Sev was going to stew for awhile longer. If last night's bedsport was any indication, Antonio had spun gold plated bullion out of some bullshit and had a tongue lashing coming his way. She finally glanced down at her phone to read the text she'd ignored after bumping into Casey. Antonio. She fired off an angry stream of emojis before running for the ambo. Big brother wasn't ready for her.
On one level she felt free. Calm. She'd said her piece. She was falling in love with Kelly Severide. She loved him. She had told him. He could run for the hills and everything could go on as it always had at 51. Except she'd be pining for a different lieutenant altogether. She'd come clean about Casey trying to reconnect with her when she hadn't told anyone else not even Shay. It made Dawson smile more than she strictly should be doing on the way to a fire as she bounced into the cab of Ambulance 61. Shay noticed almost immediately.
"What happened?"
"I told Kelly I was falling in love with him"
Dawson smothered a laugh as Shay had to course correct quickly turning on to US 50 southbound behind Truck 81.
"What did he say?"
"Job came in. No time."
"Dawson!" Shay's voice sounded strangled. "You can't just-"
"What? Tell him how I've been feeling for months? Too late. Ball's in his court now"
"No I mean...Dawson I think the only other woman who ever said that to Kelly was Whaley and you know how that ended. What exactly did you say?"
Dawson went to reply and then stopped. She refused to overthink this. She'd been vacillating for too damn long to let Shay steal her relief. The impulse to doubt herself was almost automatic. A product of her behaviour around Casey, and why was Shay always feeding that part of her now? It made her want to question everything and every decision. Dawson turned to look out through the windshield.
"Nothing you need to hear. Come on catch up. 81 is going to blow that red light."
ʘ
The fire was in West Town and worse than previously thought. A power substation had caught fire and knocked out power to the surrounding neighbourhoods. The fire still wasn't contained and Truck was not equipped to handle forcible entry in a building with downed electrical wires. Water was the worst idea imaginable. An explosion was imminent. It was late summer and still light out but the firefighters were fucked when the sun went down. If there was even time. It was a race against the clock as Truck 81 stopped behind Chief Boden's rig. Chief was yelling into his radio for backup.
Shay parked the ambulance on the opposite side of the street. Triage area hadn't been designated as yet but there wasn't a lot of room. N. Western avenue was a two lane street boxed in on both sides by one way traffic. A truly residential neighbourhood, the substation building stood out amongst all the one storey houses and shops surrounding it on all sides. Building workers were still streaming out of the low-rise building. It was all brick and ten floors and-
"Chief where do you need us?" Dawson asked into her radio.
"South corner. Engineer was knocked unconscious but is coming around. His head is bleeding"
Dawson and Shay found the man delirious and panicked on a bench outside the 24 hour laundromat across from the substation.
"Are all the men out?"
Shay concentrated on calming the man down while Dawson swabbed his head where blood was leaking profusely. The laceration was deep and looked ugly.
"Sir? What's your name?"
He ignored the question, his eyes wide and staring at the building that was burning rapidly at Shay and Dawson's backs.
"I'm the utility rep. Your guys need different equip for this fire" the man was stammering. Weak and coughing but determined to explain how the fire needed to be handled.
"What kind of perimeter do we need to setup?" Dawson asked gently.
"Nothing. The plans-"
He coughed spasmodically and Shay held him upright, palm resting on his spine until the coughing fit subsided. She shared a glance with Dawson full of indecision and foreboding. The fire billowed behind them. All black smoke and no flames. A bad sign as the summer heat had her shirt sticking to her back, anxiety and adrenaline coursing through her veins.
"Okay. Sir. Can you tell me your name? We-"
Sound caved under the weight of explosion.
A vacuum pulsed out in all directions, taking speech and light. Everyone flung backwards.
Shay heard the squawk of her radio as though through a long long tunnel. Boden's voice tinny and scratching at her ears as she tried to blink. As she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The world had gotten that much darker in minutes. She was covered in dust, coughing. Smoke was all around her. Shay struggled to sit up. She was half lying on top of the toppled bench. She was half-lying on top of the man, the engineer, who was no longer babbling, his head cracked open even more red on the pavement than grey dust, eyes listless.
Roll Call! Ambulance 61! Do you read me?
Protocol is supposed to save you in times of shock. Shay scrambled off of the body. Eyes searching out. Everything hurt but everything felt intact. Her eyes watered. She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She reached around the prone, bleeding body in each direction and found nothing.
Ambulance 61. What is your status and disposition?
Shay reached for her radio. Coughed. Eyes streaming and stinging from the smoke.
"I've lost visual on Dawson."
ʘ
More than twenty minutes after the explosion, Squad 3 was called in as backup. The fire was spreading. Squad 1 was inbound but having difficulty with downtown afternoon traffic. The team was warned to proceed with caution. The perimeter was small and PD was on site trying to coordinate the residents and keep them calm as the sun went down. Chicago got a little lawless after dark in summer at the best of times. A blackout would make things worse.
Severide reminded his team of these facts as they strapped in for the ride to West Town. To his mind it was still Ukranian Village, filled with Catholic churches his mother used to drag him around to visit. She was insatiably curious about how other cultures celebrated the same God and hoped to instil that in him. Clearly, it had not worked though he thumbed the medallion around his neck thoughtfully. Saint Florian. Patron saint of firefighters. His good luck charm. Capp was driving and Tony was making some joke he couldn't hear but Severide's thoughts were pacing in a small concentric cycle, even as he prepared for another rush headlong into the flames. D loves me. Casey loves D. And I…
He'd been working his way up to it. He knew this. Had been knowing it as cautiously and as quietly as only he could after heartbreak upon heartbreak. Severide loved Bri. He didn't say it for a variety of reasons none of which made sense at the moment. Casey had beaten him to the punch. Had been vulnerable and flawed and he resented the fuck out of his colleague for distracting his girl. He was her favourite place to be. He held onto that. Cherished it just as much if not more than how she could see through and into the messiest parts of him and still come up for air with a smile.
Of course she had to babble it. This was Bri. He remembered fondly the early days. Her anxiety and disbelief that he wanted her, that he genuinely wanted to be with her. How she spoke in muttered circles between Spanish and English while he'd watch. Bri who was pissed at him for not explaining what her brother had said. It went beyond pride and he wasn't sure how to articulate that to her. He didn't have a baby sister to coddle and worry about but he understood Antonio's damage with him. Anything that hurt Bri was immediately on his shit list too. Unfortunately, that meant himself just now.
Dispatch had said they were having difficulty hailing all emergency personnel on scene. Severide tried to radio through to Battalion 25, Truck 81 and Ambulance 61 in that order. He wasn't worried just yet. It would be chaotic after an explosion. The scene would need to be contained. Panic would have occurred. It was a neighbourhood like any other. Families worried since they had no power. He glanced out at the setting sun. The air was already getting cooler as night fell.
"Squad 3 to Battalion 25. Do you read me? Copy."
Battalion 25 to Squad 3. ETA?
Boden sounded exhausted. That didn't bode well for what Squad 3 would find on scene. He knew that more medics and ambulances were also en route. That triage was going to be a mess for Shay and Bri. That the brass would send someone down to bigwig over the entire thing. All in a day's work when the cameras showed up. If they showed up. No power meant no way to support an extended newsfeed…
He stopped thinking about it when Capp drove up through the preliminary perimeter. Beat cops waved them through and he got a first look at what Squad was working with. Brick building, debris everywhere. Whole red bricks scattered on the scene as Capp picked his way through the damage. He didn't want to think about the casualty report. It was going to be a long arduous night making sure the fire was fully out. Then seeing if power could be restored. The latter wasn't part of his job but Severide's heart went out to the neighbourhoods affected. It hadn't occurred to him to check and see if his and Shay's apartment complex was affected. He had no idea how widespread the blackout was. He radioed in to Boden for instruction and he and his team fanned out accordingly. The substation fire suppression system had failed, hence the fire and large scale explosion. Boden had declared the building unfit for entry and he was relieved. They'd burn it out slow and controlled from here on out. Smoke was dense and hazardous around the building and he advised his men to use breathing apparatus as they slowly examined the building perimeter for flames. It didn't look like the fire had jumped but it had. Smaller fires had started in the laundromat across the street which was a cornucopia of chemicals, and two family homes. The wind was working in their favour for the moment: there was none. The air hot and stagnant as it choked in his lungs. Flood lights were being set up so emergency personnel could see what was going on. Dusk had come and gone before Severide could confirm that the fire was confined to its primary location.
It was only then that he went looking for triage and Dawson. Troubled that he hadn't heard from her or Shay, he finally strode over to Boden, leaning on the side of his truck with a disgruntled scowl at the sky.
"Chief." he handed his superior a water bottle and drank thirstily from his own.
"Lieutenant" Boden responded with a gesture of thanks.
"Where's 61 on site?"
"They aren't."
"What?"
Severide gave Boden his full attention as the other man sipped water, his face stern, the bearer of bad news as Severide's stomach gave out.
"The blast caught them-"
"What?!"
"Severide. They were taken to Lakeshore very much alive. Shay was-"
Boden stepped close as he grabbed Severide by his upper arm. His lieutenant was turning around to run off headlong, in full turnout gear and as Chief he couldn't have it.
"Listen to me! There is nothing you can do right now. We need to stay here until relief shows up. This fire and this neighbourhood are your priority right now. The job comes first."
Always. The job came first always. Severide knew this. Had practiced this with difficulty when he wanted to hound his colleagues on every call while he was out on short term disability. He fixed Boden with a scowl.
"What happened when it was me? Did you wait?"
"Kelly…"
The switch to informal was unfair but Severide saw that it hurt Chief to tell him no. That he had to wait. He was the only senior officer on site, two trucks and one ladder were reporting to him, as well as Squad 3. Help was on the way, slower than any miracle.
"Just wait! We'll all go. Emergency personnel is overwhelmed as it is. Minor injuries were taken to Norwegian American four blocks west. They still don't have a full headcount on building staff to inform loved ones. Kelly! Wait!"
Severide blinked and pierced Boden with his steady gaze, his whole body turned towards his supervisor.
"You just said minor injuries were taken to Norwegian American but Shay and Dawson went to Lakeshore."
Boden went still for a moment. Then he sighed and shook his head at his own mistake. He was supposed to be setting an example in following protocol. You did not distract team members with information that did not help the immediate situation. You did not rely on conjecture when facts were paramount. Around them, the light of the fire and the smoke was enough to prove how dangerous the situation still was. In the distance sirens wailed closer and closer. Kelly slowly pulled out of Boden's grasp.
"Did they go in their own ambo? Is it still here?
An unnatural quiet settled. Each man stared at the other. Sirens and radio chatter squawked in the space held taut between their bodies. Who would flinch first?
"Tell Capp he's taking point on Squad".
It was all Severide needed to hear. When Boden glanced back his squad lieutenant had already disappeared.
Severide wasn't a runner like Bri. He barely remembered bolting out of the perimeter and flagging down a cab with his helmet. He must have looked a strange sight: a firefighter running away from the fire. But when he charged through the Lakeshore ER doors and flagged down yet another person, a quiet nurse who'd taken one look at his gear and just known, he felt like he'd run a marathon. His breath was choked in his lungs as she led him through the loud maze of beds and squabbling nurse stations. She didn't give him an update on Shay and Dawson's conditions. Protocol she murmured softly. Unless he was an emergency contact..
"Yes! Leslie Shay. I'm her contact"
It wasn't much but it was enough to calm him down on one front. Shay was okay. Banged up but conscious and stable. They were monitoring for pulmonary injury following blast exposure. Standard. So he was quiet when he walked into the room that Shay and Dawson were sharing. Shay was sitting up and looked bored. She broke out into a smile when Severide walked in. He walked over and kissed her cheek. Allowed her to reassure him that she was fine when he sank into the chair next to her bed and let the nurse leave before he began to ask what happened. One glance at the other bed showed him Dawson was asleep. Shay filled him in without prompting.
"Dawson's got a perforated eardrum. Tinnitus. Completely disoriented. Definite concussion. She was trying to bandage her own head when I finally found her. I couldn't see anything after the explosion. Not at first."
Severide let her talk until she started to yawn. Then he tucked her in and promised to bring her some clothes and be just as good as she was when he was in the hospital. It made him laugh a little when she drifted off quickly and started to snore. Severide glanced over at the other bed, his throat dry. He got up and rounded the footboard of Shay's cot before he could really look at his girl. He was surprised he'd showed such restraint but Shay was still family and he didn't abandon family. Especially after she'd been so forlorn about how hard it was to not be the centre of his world.
Because she wasn't. He felt his heart do triple time as he looked down at Dawson. The whole right side of her face was bruised. Her head bandaged, her right ear covered in gauze. A nasal cannula was giving her oxygen. Without even thinking about it he toed off his big steel boots. His turnout coat and pants slipped to the floor at her bedside. He put his helmet on the little table. His hands clenched and released their fists. It was better than shaking. He smelled of smoke. Was covered in ash. She looked so fragile and small and far too quiet. He shouldn't do it but he had to be close. Couldn't bear to not be next to her. He had to hear her breathing. Had to know she was actually really alive in her pale bruised shell. Severide crouched beside the bed for a moment. Hesitant. His fingers tentative when he touched the back of her hand. He was not a small man but he hunched in as he lay down on top of the sheets, careful not to jolt her. Careful to arrange one arm around the top of her pillow, he leaned in to breathe along her forehead and kiss it gently over the bandage. Two fingers of her left hand were in a splint. Severide, slow and soft, picked that hand up and kissed it before placing it on her stomach where he could trace patterns on the back.
He was operating on autopilot. On instinct. Protocol is supposed to prepare you for shock. It gives you guidelines and procedures to follow but all at once he began to tremble. He couldn't check in with Bri. He couldn't examine her from head to toe without hurting her and he'd been hurting her for months. She couldn't say that she was fine. He tried to control it but tremors stole over his limbs and he struggled to breathe as he curled up beside her.
"I love you"
It was only a whisper. Tears were leaking down onto the flat hospital pillow, his head propped up as close as he dared to her face. Because Bri might be falling in love but the feeling he'd had from day one in her kitchen loomed large and bright inside him. Inescapable. He would give anything to her. Anything and everything. Bri forced him to use his words. It wasn't often. He didn't think she was trying to change him but when it mattered: there he was. Again and again "I love you" a chant chasing away the scar tissue calcified in long dark veins over his heart. His mouth an endless sob repeating it like prayer until finally exhaustion pulled him to better dreams.
Soooooo. ::hides::