"So how's it going, Severide?" Otis asked during the next shift.
"I don't know, every time I think he's getting better, it's another step back," Kelly answered.
"Well if you want, we could rotate staying up with him and that way at least you could get some sleep," Otis said.
The others all voiced their agreements, but Severide waved them off.
"I appreciate it guys, but I don't think so. Casey's still adjusting to everybody knowing what happened, right now I don't think he trusts anyone else staying with him. It's nothing personal, it's just the way it is right now."
"Okay, well what if we came by and took him out for the night? That way you could stay home and sleep and we could keep an eye on him," Cruz said.
"Casey hasn't gone out at night since the attack, I don't think he'd go for it," Severide said.
"Severide, I know that trust is a touchy subject right now, but have you considered spiking his dinner with some sleeping pills?" Herrmann asked. "He wouldn't find out, and you'd both be able to get some rest."
Kelly rolled his eyes. "I can't do that, Herrmann."
"Uh..." Otis raised a finger, "I did notice though when he crashes in the bunk room he usually stays asleep until the bells go off or if it's time to clock out...get him in that bunk and he sleeps like the dead."
Everybody looked around at one another and tried to figure out what that meant.
"Because it doesn't remind him of the attack? Because the bunk room is nothing like the house?" Severide asked.
"Or subconsciously because he feels safe here," Mouch offered, "because he knows nobody or nothing could get to him in here with all of us backing him up."
Severide let that thought sink in.
"Severide, you're being ridiculous."
"Come on, Casey," Kelly said as he pulled Casey along over to the bunk room. "We got no calls coming in right now, drills are done, I'm exhausted, you were up all night, let's crash for a few minutes before anything else happens. If we don't both start getting some sleep, Boden's gonna bounce both of us out of here."
"You're aware we have our own bunks in our offices, right?" Casey asked. "That's one of the perks of being a lieutenant."
"Yeah, but I don't trust you," Kelly told him. "I want you where if I wake up I can keep an eye on you and make sure you're actually sleeping."
Casey grumbled and responded, "Alright."
They went over to a couple of unoccupied bunks, Casey sat on one and looked over and saw Severide staring at him.
"The things I do for you," he grumbled as he laid down and turned on his side.
Casey closed his eyes and breathed a couple times before he felt something jerking him. He opened his eyes and saw it was Severide yanking the blanket out from under him, which he then draped over Casey and tucked the corners in under him.
"Very funny," Casey sniped.
"At least I'll know if you try bailing," Severide told him. "Now go to sleep."
Casey grumbled something else under his breath.
"I heard that," Kelly replied.
Severide watched as Casey turned on his other side, facing away from him. He laid down on his own bunk and waited, after a few minutes Matt turned over again, and Severide saw he was actually asleep. Anybody could fake being asleep but it could only be so convincing, Severide had actually watched Casey the few times he slept in the past week, there was no way Matt could be faking it. Relieved that they might actually be making some progress, Severide said a silent prayer that nobody called in any emergencies for the next couple hours or so, rested his head against his pillow, and promptly went to sleep himself.
"Hey, Severide, wake up."
Kelly's eyes fluttered open and he shot up in his bunk, "Huh? What? What?"
"Take it easy," Otis said, and pointed over to Casey's bunk.
Severide looked over and saw that Casey was in the exact same position he'd been before Kelly went to sleep, and was snoring lightly.
"What time is it?" Kelly asked.
"You two have been out for four hours," Otis told him, "thank God for small favors and no calls, right?"
Kelly shook his head to wake up and replied with a yawn, "Amen."
"Sorry to wake you up, but Boden wants to see you," Brian said.
"Okay."
"Has Casey talked to anybody yet? Gotten any kind of professional help?" Boden asked.
Kelly shook his head. "Honestly, Chief, I about had to drag him to the police station to give his statement, I don't think he's ready to see a therapist."
"The longer he puts it off, the harder it's going to be," Boden said.
"I'm not disagreeing, but all due respect, Chief, this isn't one of your usual orders you can give. You might be able to force him to go, but you can't force him to tell them anything until he's ready."
"I know," Wallace sounded defeated.
"Look, Chief, granted Squad hasn't been dispatched to all the same calls as Truck lately, but from what I've seen, Casey can still do his job as well as he did before," Kelly said.
"I am not questioning his ability to do his job," Boden told him. "I'm concerned about how he's recovering from this."
"Well I'll tell you, Chief," Kelly said, "if we could find a way to sneak him in during First Watch and let him crash in the bunk room, I think he'd do a lot better."
Boden briefly smiled in amusement at that suggestion.
"How's he doing at home?" he asked.
"Best as he can...some days he won't talk, he's not sleeping well obviously...other than that, I think he's doing better, it's just more gradual than any of us are comfortable with."
"None of us more than Casey," Boden replied.
Kelly heard a scream and woke up. He was very relieved to see that this time it wasn't Casey, it was the movie on TV. Another one of Otis's obscure horror movies nobody knew or cared about, but it had been pretty interesting, until he fell asleep watching it. Reaching for the remote, he shut off the movie and the TV entirely, he checked his watch and saw it was going on 2 in the morning, and he had a stiff neck from sleeping sitting up on the couch. Trying to work the kink out, he turned his head to the side and saw Casey was also asleep sitting up, and had stayed asleep through Susan Strasberg's screaming at finding her father's corpse on the floor of her car. Right now her problems looked far more appealing by comparison.
Once again Kelly found himself in an awkward position, if he got up, Casey might wake up, and if he did, neither of them would get any sleep. So, he resigned himself to a sore back the rest of the night and leaned back against the couch. He reached behind his head and grabbed the blanket, then remembered what happened last time, he unfolded it to its full length and carefully draped half of it over Casey, who never so much as moved, and then did his best to curl up under the other half, and went back to sleep.
Severide all but ran towards Boden's office and forewent knocking entirely, he just grabbed the doorknob and flung it open.
Boden looked up at the Squad lieutenant in minor confusion. "You forget how to knock?"
Kelly was out of breath as he told him, "Sorry, Chief, Casey and I need to head out for a while."
"For what?" Boden asked.
"Chief...they got him!" Severide explained.
Boden looked at him for a second, then got to his feet, marched over to his door and called out to his assistant, "Connie, go get Casey and bring him here immediately."
"On it, Chief," Connie rose from her seat and headed down the hall.
"Are you ready, Lieutenant Casey?" Peter Stone asked as he, Casey and some guy from the public defender's office stood in the room to watch the police lineup.
Casey slowly inhaled and nodded.
Stone spoke into the intercom, "Bring them in."
Casey watched through the two way mirror as a police officer came in, and six men all of similar size and build came in carrying numbers.
"Turn to the front," they heard the officer say.
Casey watched the men one at a time. They were all around the same height, same weight, same ashy skin color, same buzzed haircut, different clothes, but not by much.
His eyes widened.
"Lieutenant Casey, do you recognize anyone?" Peter asked.
Casey nodded slowly, and pointed. "Number five."
"And where do you recognize him from?"
Casey looked at the man, looked into his eyes, looked into them for the first time really, everything had been such a blur during his attack. They looked dead. Casey felt very uncomfortable, as though that man could somehow see him through the glass.
It took every ounce of force he had in him to stare back at the man and answer matter-of-factly, not wanting to botch the ID by omitting the hardest thing to admit, "That's the man who raped me."
"Thank you, that'll be all," Peter told him.
Casey headed to the door and walked out, walked right past Severide, who was called in next.
Kelly looked in the mirror and saw six men who all looked very similar, he studied their faces. One through four all just looked disinterested, but the fifth one just looked pure evil, and Kelly knew that he'd seen that face before.
"Lieutenant Severide," Stone said, "do you recognize any-"
Kelly tapped the glass, "Number five, that's the bastard."
"-one," Peter finished his sentence. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Severide answered, "that's the son of a bitch who attacked Casey and raped him."
"Of all the-" the public defender started to say.
"Thank you, Lieutenant, that'll be all, you can go now," Stone said.
Severide left the room and bumped into Antonio on the way out.
"So who is this guy?" he asked.
"His name's Harris Cardoza."
"I could pass for a Cardoza before him."
"What's in a name?" Antonio replied. "38 years old, unmarried, born in New Jersey, bounced all over the country in the last 20 years, which could explain why his DNA wasn't in the system. It's very possible every time this guy moved on to another district, he left a hoard of victims behind who were too embarrassed to report it. It's a common practice of psychopaths like that, they attack as many people in one state as they feel comfortable with, then get the hell out of Dodge before the heat's on, and then they start over again."
"I thought people like this had a comfort zone they stuck to," Kelly said.
"They do, until they get more confident, then they move on to wider horizons," Antonio explained.
"That bastard. So we don't have any way of knowing how many other victims this guy has?"
"None whatsoever, but we know it's impossible this was his first time. Nobody just wakes up one day and decides to be a rapist."
"So what does this mean?" Kelly asked.
Antonio shrugged, "It would be better if we could find other victims and build a stronger case, but as it is the one Casey has is pretty rock solid, we've got the DNA, we've got Casey's blood in the treads of his boots, and we collected glass shards out of his scalp that match the beer bottles you hit him with."
"So that's it?" Kelly asked, "It's over?"
"Wish it were that simple, first he's going to be booked, then arraigned, then there'll be a bail hearing, then the preliminary hearing, and then it'll go to trial."
"But the worst should be over, right?" Kelly asked.
"I hope so," Antonio answered.
Severide nodded, "Okay, thanks," and he headed for the exit.
Casey was already sitting in the passenger side of Severide's car, Kelly leaned against the window to talk to Matt but stopped when he looked in and saw that Casey had both arms over his head like he was protecting it from a blow. Then Kelly realized that Casey's arms, and one knee, were all shaking violently.
"Hey, Casey," he reached in and grabbed Matt's arm and forced the other man to look at him, "It's alright, they got the bastard, the worst of it's over."
Herrmann slammed the irons on the apparatus floor and turned to Severide.
"What do you mean that scum sucking piece of manure got out on bail? How the hell does that happen?"
"His lawyer argued it was a first time offense, and since they can't find any victims to say otherwise, I guess the judge bought it," Kelly answered.
"Well that judge is a grade-A certifiable moron!" Herrmann shouted, his eyes lit up with fire, "Some rat bastard attacks one of our own, a hero of the city, tries to kill him and he's free to walk? I'm gonna murder somebody!"
"Herrmann, keep your voice down!" Joe told him, "Casey's gonna hear you."
Christopher turned on his heel and replied just as loudly, "You think him hearing what I got to say on the matter is gonna be anywhere near as upsetting as this bombshell of crap that just got thrown in his lap?"
"Where is Casey anyway?" Otis asked.
"Last I saw him he was in his office," Severide pointed, "trying not to fall apart."
"And?"
"Not doing so well at it."
"Ah geez," Herrmann muttered, coming down a few notches.
"Stone said the guy's lawyer won't even entertain a plea deal, which with all the evidence that has him dead to rights, means they're likely going to go with a he said/he said defense," Severide told them. "Gonna try and pin it all back on Casey."
"So what do we do now?" Mouch asked.
Severide shook his head helplessly and said, "I don't know, I'm starting to run out of ideas."
Herrmann jabbed a finger at them and said, "If I knew where this guy sleeps at night, just once, I would break my ethics and set that bastard on fire right in his bed. It would be worth it."
Cruz thought back several years, to Leon, to Flacco, to the fire where he'd died, turning around, walking away and closing that door behind him, his conversation with Casey after the fact and their little understanding. And though he couldn't bring himself to actually say it, he agreed with Herrmann.
That night Severide lay in his bed staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what they were going to do now. Casey had been withdrawn on shift, and only got worse when they got off of shift. He had barely spoken a word since they got home, hardly eaten anything all day, and gone up to bed without a word. Kelly could just imagine everything going through his mind right now, and all of it was bleak.
Antonio had warned him from the getgo that this would happen, and Kelly wasn't worried about how the defense would tie him into it, but he was seriously starting to question if Casey could withstand the damages that would ensue.
A loud crash from down the hall jerked Severide out of his thoughts and he jumped out of bed.
"Casey?"
Another crash. Kelly ran down the hall to see what was happening, before he reached the door though, he heard the sound of glass shattering. He threw open the door and saw Casey standing in front of the mirror on the wall and beating the glass into pieces with his fists, screaming like a wild animal as he knocked more of the fractured glass out of its frame.
"Casey!" Kelly ran over to Matt and tackled him to the floor. Casey screamed and tried to struggle with him but gave up after a few minutes, instead he raised his bloody hands to his face and let out a pained gut wrenching wail that broke Severide's heart and he felt his own eyes welling up with tears as he watched this happening to his best friend.
"Casey," Severide choked on a sob as he got up on his knees and leaned over Casey and wrapped one arm around his chest and the other up over his shoulder and rested his chin on the top of Matt's head as they both broke down sobbing. Kelly let go of Casey's shoulder and instead reached across and put his hand on Casey's cheek and turned his face towards him.
"Shh, shh," Kelly tried to comfort his friend but he choked on his own tears too much to be coherent. He pressed his forehead against Casey's and held him close as they both slowly wore themselves out crying.
Kelly's eyes burned from crying, and especially in the bright kitchen light as he set to work pulling dozens of shards of glass out of Casey's hand with a set of tweezers. Once the two of them had finally calmed down, and were able to speak, and get off the floor, Severide examined the damage to Casey's hands, one was more bruised than anything, the other was a bloody mess with glass stuck in it, he knew it looked worse than it was, still it needed to be tended to right away, so there they were, and here he was bent over Matt's hand like a nearsighted old man, watching for any trace reflections of the light in the remaining shards embedded in his skin. To try and dull some of the pain, he'd ransacked the liquor cabinet and poured Casey a double of the strongest booze he had on hand. Whether it was taking effect or not, Casey didn't say anything while Severide worked, he hardly even flinched.
"I'm sorry, Casey," he said as he took out another shard, "You were right, if I hadn't called the cops, none of this would've happened."
"It's not your fault," Matt responded, his voice still a little shaky and his throat hoarse from all the screaming and sobbing he'd done that night, "you were just trying to help."
"So now what?"
"It's too late to drop the charges, I'll have to see it through no matter what."
Kelly was satisfied he got all the glass out, then he picked up a bottle of rubbing alcohol and warned Casey, "This is gonna burn like hell."
"That's fine."
Severide picked up a rag and held it under Casey's hand to catch any alcohol that spilled over, and slowly poured it over the cuts. Casey hissed and forced his eyes shut for a couple seconds. Kelly put the bottle down, picked up a second rag and pressed it over the cuts to sop up anything that wasn't actively cleaning out a wound. Then he put them down and picked up a gauze roll and carefully bandaged Casey's hand.
"That should do it," he said as he tied off the bandage. "Now since there's still busted glass all over your room, you have two choices, either you're bunking with me or sleeping on the couch, which is it?" Though he had a good idea what Matt's answer would be.
Casey looked at him with a blank stare and then finally said, "Next time I get a couch, I'm buying one with a hide-a-bed in it, make it a lot easier to sleep on."
"Yeah, I'd like that too," Kelly said as they headed into the living room.
Casey laid down on the couch, Severide leaned back in the chair beside the couch, and he watched Casey. After half an hour or so, the booze started to take effect and Casey fell asleep. Kelly waited a bit to make sure Matt actually was asleep, and he quietly moved out of the chair, sunk down to the floor, crawled over to the couch, stared down at Casey while he slept, and took Matt's bandaged hand in his and used his free hand to stroke the top of Casey's head. Through it all, Casey never woke up, never even stirred, after a while his steady breathing gave way to light snoring, and Severide decided it was finally time to leave Casey be and let him rest. Slowly, quietly, he moved away from the Truck lieutenant, then got to his feet and went into the kitchen. He found his cell phone on the table and punched in a number and waited anxiously while it rang.
By the time the person on the other end answered, all Severide could manage to get out was a defeated, "I need help."
