Voight and Severide returned to the hospital and saw most of the crew from 51 was gone. One by one they'd all been in to see Casey and he had been too upset to speak to any of them, and everybody decided to go home and let him rest. That made what was coming next slightly easier for Severide to prep himself for. He and Voight walked down the corridor to Casey's room, and before they reached the door they could hear his quiet sobs out in the hall. They entered the room and saw the blonde lieutenant sitting up in the bed with his head dropped to his chest. He looked up in response to the sudden presence in the room, and saw the two men, and his eyes welled up with fresh tears and his whole body started trembling in horror as he tried to choke back the sobs against his closed lips. He knew. He knew that they knew, and he feared the worst.
Severide marched over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Casey and pulled the blonde man against him in a tight hug and started crying himself as he rested his chin on the crown of Matt's head and told him, his own voice already broken with sobs, "It's okay, it's okay, everything's going to be alright, Matt."
Casey shook against him and barely managed to choke out a horrified, "You know...you know..."
"I know you didn't do anything wrong," Kelly told him. "I'm sorry, Casey, I'm so sorry, I had no idea what was going on."
Casey kept his arms stiff at his sides, as if he were afraid to reach out to Severide, as if that might cross a line and he would find Kelly's support suddenly withdrawn from him.
"I didn't...I didn't want anyone to know," Casey told him.
"I know, I know," Kelly said softly as he pressed his head between Casey's neck and shoulder. "Nobody else knows, nobody has to know."
Voight stood back and watched the scene as it unfolded. As a cop for over 30 years he'd seen more than his share of horrible things that nobody should ever have to witness, let alone live through. He would never admit it to anyone else, but he'd be lying to himself if he didn't feel like his heart was breaking watching the two lieutenants and knowing what had led up to this moment. He liked Casey, he genuinely liked the man and what he stood for, too honest to compromise his convictions, even when it put his life on the line, Voight could respect that. And he'd liked Gabby too. He'd been devastated when he found her body and discovered she was already dead. Then, he'd tasted the acid in the back of his throat when he and Severide watched the video on her phone. He understood very well the betrayal that was coursing through Severide right now, he'd had his suspicions that something was up when he realized how off Casey's behavior was the other night, but until Maggie showed him Casey's tox screen, he never would've imagined it could be anything this bad. And he knew Maggie was still too much in shock herself to see it for what it was, she thought Matt had taken the drugs himself, thought that he had done this to himself. When Voight saw the report, his brain was already wiring all the pieces together, there were a few reasons why somebody would drug a loved one, but the list got even shorter when it was to the extent Casey had been put through. And he had his sickened suspicions when the techs dumped Gabby's phone, they'd find a lot more videos like the one they'd just seen, and, much as he hated to even think it, probably some of them would be even worse than what they already saw.
He watched the two firefighters as they held onto each other and cried, both of them far beyond any coherent words now. As much as he felt he was intruding on them, Voight knew Kelly was going to need help to get Casey through what came next, and he couldn't trust anyone from Firehouse 51 right now.
Voight went over beside Kelly and put a hand on his shoulder.
"If you want to stay with him that's fine, but you can't be here 24 hours a day, Severide."
Kelly found his voice long enough to snipe at the sergeant, "Watch me."
"It's no good, Kelly, somebody else will have to stay with him. You talk to your chief and do whatever you have to do to get the time off to be here...you stay with him in the day, I'll come over and watch him when I clock out of the 21st."
Kelly shook his head.
"Kelly. I know what I'm talking about."
Kelly sighed defeatedly and turned to Casey and asked him, "Matt?"
Casey's only response was to tighten his hold on Severide.
"I'll stay with him," Kelly told Hank.
"You're going to need help," Voight pointed out. "You remember what withdrawal was like, it's going to be worse for him."
Kelly knew Voight was right, but he hated to admit it and he didn't like the idea of leaving Casey alone. He felt like he'd failed his best friend by not catching on to what was happening with him. He didn't want Casey to think he was abandoning him now.
It hadn't been easy but Voight had finally convinced Severide to go home for the night and get some rest. He would stay with Casey until Kelly returned in the morning. And it was going to be a long night. Voight found himself crammed in the hospital bed with his arms locked around Casey as the younger man sweated and shook and sobbed as his body was fully feeling the effects of withdrawal from the laundry list of drugs he'd been on for months.
"I know, I know," Voight calmly told the lieutenant who struggled in his hold. "You'll be alright, Casey, I know this is hard, I had to get Erin through a few nights like this when she was a teenager. You've met Erin, right? Severide's old girlfriend who works at the 21st." He took the labored sob that choked up from Casey's throat as an answer. "She's had her fair share of drying out, never easy, but she got through it, you will too."
Of course Voight had to remember this was not a normal situation by any means. Junkies and users knew withdrawal when they felt it and they knew what it was they needed a fix of to feel better. He was still convinced that Casey didn't have any idea what all drugs Gabby had him on, in which case his body was going through withdrawal for things he didn't even know what they were, so his brain had no way of knowing what he needed to feel better. Now that would be a special kind of hell all its own, like a baby born already addicted to heroin.
Casey went into a series of spasms and thrashed against Voight, a hiccuping sob working its way out of his body.
"I know, Casey, I know, I know what you were scared of us finding out...we know that what happened to you wasn't your fault, you don't need to worry about that. And nobody is going to tell anyone the truth unless you decide they need to know. You have my word."
Casey went limp in his arms and sagged his head against Voight's shoulder and continued bawling.
"It'll be alright, Casey, we'll help you get through this," Voight assured him. "I know it feels impossible right now but you just have to be patient. Breathe, breathe, slowly..."
Casey sucked in a few small breaths that came right back out as fresh sobs, but he kept trying and gradually kept the air in him longer with each try.
"Good, that's better, just keep breathing," Hank told him.
It was several hours before Casey finally calmed down and his body sagged against Voight's and he got quiet. Hank had no delusions that Casey would rest for very long, but he'd take whatever they could get.
In the dark hospital room, with no one to see them, Voight looked at the younger man asleep in his arms, and he slowly leaned over and kissed Casey on the top of his head.
"You'll be alright, kid. It's just going to take time."
Voight lost almost all the feeling in his legs when he climbed out of the hospital bed early the next morning. Casey actually seemed to have slept for a couple hours, but almost immediately once he sensed the lack of another person in the bed, he stirred, and moaned, and then threw up on himself. An orderly came in to change the sheets and a nurse tried to assist Casey into the bathroom so he could shower and clean up, but he refused and almost got violent with her. Voight suggested she might have better luck giving him a sponge bath, and he had to volunteer his own brute strength to keep Casey pinned down to the bed so the nurse could work. Casey screamed and kicked and struggled as his clothes were removed, and Voight had a good idea why that was, but he knew they had to get him cleaned up, so he kept Casey pressed flat against the mattress while the nurse worked. He screamed even louder as he felt the water and soap and sponge against his skin and futilely squirmed under Voight's hold, then gradually gave way to a series of whines and moans that suggested he was in pain. By the time they got him in a fresh gown and settled back under the sheet, Casey was crying like a child who'd just been beaten. He turned his back to Voight and shoved his head under the pillows.
And that was the moment when Severide walked in.
"What the hell happened?" he wanted to know.
"Didn't take well to a sponge bath," Voight answered simply.
Kelly muttered something under his breath and went over to the side of the bed and tried to get Casey to look at him.
"Casey it's me, are you alright? What happened?"
Casey's only response was a pained groan as he burrowed further under the covers.
"You sure you're up to this?" Voight asked Kelly.
Severide turned to Voight and glared at him. "Fine."
"Suit yourself. You need help, give me a call."
Kelly almost said "I won't" but he decided he couldn't afford to bite the only hand that could help him if need be. He hated that he couldn't bring the guys from 51 in on this but he knew none of them would understand what was going on, and as bad of shape as Casey was already in right now, Kelly wasn't sure he could survive everybody finding out what happened to him.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Voight motioned towards the door.
Kelly patted Casey on the arm and told him, "I'll be right back, buddy," and followed Voight out.
They headed down the corridor so Casey wouldn't hear them and Voight told Kelly, "I got a message last night, ballistics matched the slugs they pulled out of Gabby to the guns the dealers we busted that night were firing at Atwater and Ruzek, for whatever that's worth."
Kelly slowly nodded as he took that in. "I'll tell the others later. They'll probably be somewhat relieved."
"And how're you holding up?" Voight asked.
"Worried," Kelly answered honestly, a rarity for him. "What happens now? I mean Casey can't...he's in no condition to...what're they going to do with..."
"The medical examiner can keep Gabby on ice until Casey's up to making the funeral arrangements," Voight said.
Kelly helplessly raked his fingers through his hair. "God...how's he going to do that? How can he be expected to plan a funeral for the woman who...did that to him?"
"When he's up to talking about it we could see if he'd rather Antonio take care of it," Voight said.
"Does Antonio know?"
"No...I have to bring the rest of my team in on this, but I honestly don't know what I'm going to do about Antonio, he has no idea what his sister did," Hank answered.
Up the hall they heard a commotion and somebody screaming and the two men took off running for Casey's room, where they found him out of bed and trying to kill the the people who had come in. Kelly made his way past them and tackled Casey and the two of them fell to the floor. Casey struggled against him and was still screaming incoherently, then suddenly two decipherable words came out, "No more...no more..." his body sagged against the floor under Kelly's weight and he started sobbing, "No more, please, no more..."
"What's going on?" Voight asked the doctor.
"I explained to Mr. Casey we were going to start him on some medication to help get him through detox and-"
"No!" Casey screamed as he pressed his face against the floor, "No more drugs, please, God, no more drugs."
"Sounds like he doesn't want it," Voight said simply.
"He would be placed on non-addictive painkillers, antidepressants and sleeping pills to cope with the symptoms of withdrawal. Without that he's putting himself in unnecessary danger."
"I'm a cop, I know how drugs work, and how withdrawal works," Voight said.
"Then you know how quickly somebody drying out cold turkey could go into organ failure," the doctor told him.
"And I know you people are trained to watch for stuff like that. How are his vitals currently?"
"Fair considering."
"Then when they start to get un-fair, then put him on the drugs, until then, let him do this," Voight responded.
The doctor did a double take. "What he already did to himself you really think that he has any idea what-"
"He didn't do this to himself, his wife did it to him, and she's dead," Voight told him. "Alright? Now he's the patient, so you're going to respect the patient's wishes."
Voight looked over and saw Severide had managed to scrape Casey off the floor and gotten himself in a sitting position on the floor with Casey leaning back against him as he deliriously continued to murmur, "No more drugs...no more drugs..."
The Intelligence sergeant went over to the two men and crouched down in front of Casey, who visibly braced himself at the cop's sudden presence.
"It's alright, Matt," Voight told him softly. "You don't want any drugs, they're not going to put you on any drugs." He helped Kelly get Casey to his feet so Severide could get up as well, and they managed to get him back into the bed.
Casey looked up to the ceiling with eyes wide open but didn't appear to actually see anything as he kept repeating in between heavy breaths, "No more...no more..."
"You sure you got this?" Voight asked Kelly.
He'd already said he could. Though he was starting to have his own doubts about it, he couldn't back out now.
"I'm staying."
Voight looked around at the sickened faces of everybody working under him in Intelligence. The techs had finished uncovering everything on Gabby's phone and turned up over a hundred video files, all featuring varying degrees of perversion involving Gabby Dawson, and varying levels of impairment, coercion and reluctant consent from Matt Casey. All his detectives had just viewed one of the videos found.
"So let's get one thing straight right off," Voight told them. "To make sure everybody's on the same page and there's no confusion, what you just witnessed, was rape. No, Gabby Dawson did not put a gun to Matt Casey's head, she didn't put a knife to his throat, but she drugged him, and raped him, and we know that prior to her drugging him she was able to coerce him into letting her do what she did, because she was holding something over his head to blackmail him with, something he didn't want the people he works with to find out, and apparently would do anything to avoid. The video's clear, he said no, she didn't listen, that's the definition of rape. The drugs he had in his system would have left him impaired at best, in others, completely unconscious, others, partially aware but unable to move and fight her off, thereby taking away his ability to consent. That is the definition of rape. Putting him on those drugs in the first place, especially ones for conditions he did not have, put him at a very real risk of going into a coma, or dying. That's reckless endangerment and attempted murder. Any preconceived ideas you may have had before about female on male rape, or any predispositions you had about Gabby Dawson being exempt from any guilt because you know her, or because her brother is part of this unit, that's all gone out the window. Fact, Gabby Dawson drugged her husband for months to rape him and then make videos of it, fact, she had something up her sleeve to blackmail him with into complying with her demands. Fact, as many drugs as she had him on, she had to be getting them somewhere other than just swiping inventory out of 51's ambulance. So talk to your CIs, see if anybody's getting anything from EMS looking to turn a quick buck, if there are other people involved, let's find out who and where they are."
"Um, sarge?" Ruzek asked. "What happens when Antonio gets out of Med? I mean what do we tell him?"
The bullpen was still enough that a pin could be heard dropping as everybody waited to find out the same thing.
All Voight said was, "When Antonio comes back to work, send him to my office, I'll handle it."