Two days later had Casey back at the station on a slow Saturday shift. Although it was usually the candidate's job, Casey had offered to cook the Saturday lunch. There was nothing he wanted more right now than to lose himself and his problems in the chaos of the kitchen. He was listening, absently, to the conversation in the room as he put the finishing touches on the meal, the succulent smell of the corned beef in the oven spilling across the room.

"I can't believe we're gonna miss the fight tonight," Cruz was saying.

"That's just as well," the chief said appearing out of nowhere. "'Cause I just found out that he fought golden gloves."

Cruz was quick to reassure him, "That was 20 years ago, chief. We gotta tape it or something." Cruz wandered over to the kitchen counter and Casey heard him ask Herrmann what the Lieutenant was doing.

"Said he wanted to cook the Saturday corned beef," Herrmann answered, just as Casey was pulling the finished meat from the oven. "Ah," Herrmann groaned appreciatively. "Look at that."

From the couch, Mouch inhaled longingly. "Casey made the best chicken parmigiana I ever put in my mouth," he reminisced and Casey smiled at the memory. It was when he'd still been the candidate and he whipped up a particularly good batch. He'd thought Mouch was gonna die right there from the taste alone and had ended up delegated to the kitchen for quite some time after that.

Cruz leaned over the bench, watching him plate everything up. "What've you got there, Casey?"

"Don't you worry about it," Casey answered with a smile. "Call everyone to chow."

Out on the apparatus floor, Capp emerged from the doors, a bemused smile on his face. "Hey, Casey's in there cooking.

"Casey?" Hadley asked, to make sure he hadn't misheard.

"Yeah."

Severide scratched the back of his head as he thought. He was torn between the deliciousness of the food waiting for him in the kitchen and the pettiness that stemmed from the blame he still put on Casey for Darden's death. The desire for the first good home cooked meal in a month won out and Severide lead the way into the kitchen.

The men already sitting at the table all fell silent at the appearance of the rescue squad, who hadn't eaten with them since Darden's death. Casey however didn't even flinch. He just moved the empty tray out of the way and slid a new one in front of Severide.

"Have at it."

It wasn't an offer for Severide to jump back into his bed. Hell it wasn't even an offer of friendship. It was merely an offer to actually put the petty bitching behind them as the chief had asked and return to some semblance of a healthy working relationship.

And it made Severide angry. Angrier than was rational. Because Casey hadn't even so much as glanced at him. And then Severide was thinking about all the glances he'd received from Casey over the last month. And how they'd all been the exact same, hard lips, empty eyes, like he felt nothing at all when he looked at Severide. And he knew it was irrational and insane to be so bothered by it, because he sure as hell didn't look at Casey the same way. But he was suddenly so bothered by the realisation of this change that he knew if he didn't get out of there soon he would say something he regretted.

So he did what he does best and played it off like something else. He took a long look between the dish and Casey's face - meeting his eyes - before grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl and leaving the kitchen, knowing exactly how it would look.

He should have known that Casey wouldn't let a snub like that go. Especially in front of the whole house. And looking back on it, he was surprised that Casey had waited almost the entire lunch hour before coming to chew him out. But at the same time he'd been trying to quell his raging emotions with a quiet smoke so when Casey came out, demanding to know what his problem was, he'd reacted the way he knew would get rid of Casey the quickest.

"What the hell's going on? You okay? 'Cause if you're not, maybe you need to-"

Casey's questions had been loud, demanding and had come right after one another, giving Severide no chance but to cut him off rudely.

"You think I need your help?"

Casey sighed, a full bodied movement that unintentionally showed Severide the exhaustion he felt.

"I'm trying here, Severide," Casey said, his voice small.

And the problem was they both were. They were both trying, but at different times so the actions were lost on the other man. It was their usual bad timing taken to an extreme that would have been comical if not for the circumstances.

The conversation turned as it so often did between them these days to their lost friend.

"I cleaned out Darden's locker."

Severide didn't need to be told that; it had been all over the station. People saying they thought it was too soon. People saying it was about time. All Severide had been able to think was that if the circumstances were any different, that would have been something he and Casey would have done together, lending each other their support. Severide exhaled irritably.

"You should have vented the back."

The words were quiet and had Severide's head snapping around to stare at Casey for a number of reasons. Part of it was anger. Anger that Casey dare insinuate that Andy's death was his fault. But it was also surprise. The accusations from Casey had always come after Severide himself had thrown the first punch, spat the first hateful word. It was the first time Casey had volunteered to talk about that day.

Severide decided to focus on the anger. "We're called the rescue squad, Casey. We don't vent. You shouldn't have put Andy through the window."

He'd said this more times than he could count in the last month, including to the investigator assigned to Darden's case. He'd told them he thought it was Casey's fault. But Casey had testified that he'd told Darden to stop and too many firefighter's had backed up Casey's claim. Besides, Severide had been around the back, what did he know anyway? The thought that they blamed Andy for his own death made his blood boil and fuelled his next words.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. I sleep like a baby. You?" His voice had unwittingly softened on the last word and he cursed himself for the weakness.

Casey didn't answer the question, choosing instead to just walk away, as Severide had expected him to. The question hadn't been purely asked out of malice though, despite what Casey thought. Severide was genuinely curious to how the other man was sleeping, spurned by his own lie.

Severide had never slept well, solace only coming when he'd begun sharing a bed with Casey. A solace that had left as quickly as Casey had. It was a rare night these days that we woke up from a nightmare without Andy or Matt's name on his lips. His mind might hate Casey, but his traitorous body yearned for his calming presence. It was only when he drank himself unconscious was it that he slept deep enough to not dream.

The rest of the day passed mostly without incident. They were called out only once just before dinner to an out of control building fire but it was all the way across the city so they ended up being one of the last responders and the fire was mostly under control by the time they got there. By eight o'clock the excitement had wound down and most were lounging around waiting for the ring of the bells or the mayor's visit, whichever came first.

Otis and Herrmann were talking about the unfortunate incident of his house getting foreclosed over a card game while Casey refilled his coffee.

"What time's the mayor coming?" he wanted to know.

"I heard 9:00," Herrmann answered, slapping his cards down in a fold.

"I heard he stops to take a piss at every house in the city, as a sign of respect," Otis put in smartly.

"Stopped here in June," Mouch added.

"Hey," Herrmann started, looking to Casey hopefully. "Boden's about to fight in ten minutes."

Casey pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch. Sure enough the chief's fight was scheduled for ten minute's time. He took one glance around the dead station and made up his mind.

"Screw it. Let's take a ride." He deposited his mug while the men whooped and hurried to get their gear. Casey figured that they could still watch the fight as long as they kept their radio's on and were ready to go at a moment's notice.

The ride to the fight was lighter than it had been in Truck 81 for a long time. Bets were being placed on the winner, jokes were being made and overall the mood was fairly jovial. At one point, laughing at something Otis said, Casey twisted in his seat to say to Andy-

And he slumped back into his seat, stomach twisting painfully.

Once at the scene of the fight, they raised the aerial over the glass roof with Otis climbing it so he could commentate. Even from outside they could hear the bellow of the announcer.

"Fighting in the red corner, for the Chicago fire department, Chief Boden."

"Hello, sports fans. This is Brian Zvonecek, coming to you live from the annual battle of the badges," Otis started, using the radio in his hand to project his voice down to firefighters still on the truck.

Even back at the station the squad men had patched into their radio, clustered around the dispatch bay to listen. Severide, on his way to refill his coffee, paused and leant against the wall to listen in.

"Firefighters versus the police."

"What's that?"

"I hope you all are ready for this."

"That's Otis," Capp supplied.

Severide walked closer and sat on the counter, pulling the radio closer to turn the volume up.

"Boden looks like a heat-seeking missile as he climbs in the ring to take on Captain Olmstead from the CPD. Olmstead, of course, looks like the quivering cop clob that he is."

The firefighter's both at the house and at the fight laughed at Otis' description.

"Chief Boden first won back in 1992, when he was part of the esteemed Truck 81, the greatest truck in all of Chicago."

Casey walking along the edge of the truck, spied Mouch sitting on his own and decided to take advantage of the situation.

"Mouch," he sighed, hating this part of his job. Mouch met his gaze and the look in his eyes told Casey that the older firefighter knew what this was about. "I can't keep making excuses for you."

Mouch nodded slowly and after a murmured promise to do better, Casey clapped him on the shoulder and they both leant back to listen to the fight.

"There goes the bell, and here we go. Takes two quick jabs to the nose. Oh, he falls back into the ropes."

The men groaned appropriately at the hits.

"One, two, three to the chin. Boden's in trouble already, folks."

Another collective groan went up from the firefighter's, particularly those who had bet on Boden winning.

"Wait. Here it comes. Three straight lefts-"

Whatever else Otis was going to say was drowned out by the sudden ringing of alarms and the cool voice of the dispatch officer.

"Accident. Building fire. 2413 Franklin Street."

At the fight the truck firefighter's jumped to their feet, waiting for the Lieutenants confirmation.

"That's just down the block."

Casey snatched up the radio. "81 responding."

Otis and Herrmann hurried down from the aerial, it was quickly withdrawn and the truck took off, sirens, lights and horn all going wildly.

Over the blaring of the horns, Casey listened carefully to the responses coming over the radio.

"Engine 51 responding," came from the Lieutenant in charge of 51's engine.

Next came Shay's collected voice, "Ambulance 61 en route to scene."

Finally came Severide's voice, "Squad 3 responding to Franklin Street building fire." Casey ignored the clench of his stomach at Severide's voice.

They screeched to a halt out the front of the building.

"Wow, this is bad, bad, bad."

Herrmann's words basically summed it up. The air was choked with the smoke spilling from the building, fire was visible from nearly every window and had even spread to the road in one section, setting a nearby car alight.

The firefighter's leapt from the truck, Casey barking orders as they went.

"Otis, get to the elevator and tell us what we're looking at."

"Mills, help Cruz vent the roof."

"Herrmann, you and me to the top floor and work our way down. Alright let's move."

The firefighter's dispersed. Casey was just heading into the building when he caught sight of Mills' stunned face. He clapped a hand on his shoulder and dragged him closer, forcing the young candidate to focus on him rather than the roaring flames.

"Stick close to Cruz, take deep breaths and don't freak out. This is what you've trained for."

He waited until Mills had nodded shakily before letting go and hurrying to catch up with Herrmann who was waiting by the front doors. Inside was a mess of smoke and orange light but he caught sight of two figures stumbling forward almost immediately. He caught a hold of them and guided them in the right direction.

Into his radio he said, "Two coming out." He and Herrmann moved on. They headed up the stairs, moving along close to the ground to escape the all encompassing heat. All along the hallway they busted down doors and called into their shadowy depths. They moved on, Casey listening to the reports on the elevators from Otis and Vargas.

They reached the final apartment and kicked down the door.

"Fire department! Anyone here?"

Unlike in the other apartments, the call this time was met instantly by a young cry.

"Help us! We're under here!"

Casey and Herrmann followed the hall down into a bedroom and followed the small voices until they found the two small children under the bed. There was no time to check their injuries as Casey coaxed them out. The little boy he handed off to Herrmann and lifted the girl himself. He heard over the radio as they hurried down the stairs, the yell of Otis as they found the cause of the elevator obstruction, an unconscious woman.

Casey and Herrmann exited the building and handed the children off to Mouch to take care of until additional ambulances arrived. They pulled off their helmets for the momentary relief the cold night air provided before pulling their masks back over their faces in preparation of going back in.

Inside it was sweltering and the higher they went the hotter it became until it was clear that searching was going to soon become impossible. Casey finally called it and ordered them to start heading out. They were on the stairs between the second and third floor however when the chief's calm voice came over the radio.

"Casey, you gotta go up."

The Lieutenant paused at the base of the stairs, throwing an arm out to stop Herrmann from going any further.

"Chief?"

"Smoke's gone black. Head up to the roof and we'll get you out that way."

"Copy that," he responded and turned on his heel, his men having heard the conversation already moving. None noticed the creaking of the roof until it was too late.

The beams collapsed from the ceiling and smashed through the floor taking Casey and Herrmann with them.

Severide was suppressing the urge to swear at the traffic holding them up when Chief's voice came through the radio.

"Severide, ETA?"

"Two minutes," he replied hoping it would be true. They'd left minutes after the call had come in but had run almost directly into a traffic jam, cars behind them sealing them in. Police assistance had arrived almost immediately but still the minutes ticked by, Severide and his men getting more and more impatient as they did.

"What's happening," he asked. There was only one reason the chief would need to know their ETA and that was they were needed now. Finally the cars in front of them cleared and Capp, behind the wheel, slammed his foot on the pedal causing the old truck to lurch into motion.

"We've got four stuck in the building and heading up to the roof."

The chief didn't offer any names and Severide didn't ask but he had a bad feeling he knew who at least one of them was. He spared the briefest of glances at Capp and if possible the truck sped up further. Their 'controlled stops' at each light became less and less controlled the closer they got. But that didn't matter much; between the wailing sirens and Capp's hand almost constantly on the horn anyone in a mile's radius would hear them coming.

Severide didn't even wait until the truck had stopped before he and his men were jumping out, jacket's already on and oxygen tanks being slipped onto their shoulders. Boden caught up with his squad Lieutenant as he lead his company towards the entrance.

"We have two not moving in the basement," he told him and after a long searching look of Severide's face added, "Casey and Herrmann."

Severide felt his stomach drop to his feet. He nodded bravely and didn't let a flicker of dread show on his face. Although he's not sure that he had the chief persuaded.

"We'll get 'em," he said as convincingly as he could and took off for the entrance, his men keeping pace the entire way.

Once inside the building he could hear the PASS alarms and it got louder every step further he took. He didn't have to move very far in before he got to the hole in the floor, a replica directly above. Severide was reassured by the fact that while falling from that height would hurt, it wouldn't kill you.

Frantic shouting from above had him tearing his eyes away from the motionless bodies in the basement to see Otis and Vargas trapped above him.

He told them to go up and then patched in an order for a ladder to the west side window to get them out. Once they were out of the way, he began working on getting into the basement. Thinking on his feet, he rigged up a roping system and had his men lower him into the basement. He unclipped himself and stepped over to Casey who was beginning to come around. He was coughing and blinking dazedly and although he had lost his helmet and mask in the fall he didn't seem to have sustained anything worse than a couple of scrapes.

Severide was so relieved he could have kissed him.

Instead, he reached down and hauled him onto his feet. "Come on, on your feet man. Don't want to miss the mayor's visit do you?" When Casey failed to laugh or even smile he pulled him so close that they would have been nose to nose if it hadn't been for the mask over his face. "Hey! Are you alright?"

Casey managed a shaky nod and the shrill of Herrmann's PASS alarm seemed to pierce the bubble surround them at the same time because they jerked apart and hurried over to Herrmann's form.

Together they rolled him over and noticed his laboured breathing immediately. While Casey ripped the mask from Herrmann's face, Severide tore his own off and held it over Herrmann's face, providing him with some much needed clean air.

Casey hovered over Herrmann while Severide worked on getting them out of there, hooking Herrmann up to the rope he had come down on as well as a second rope the rescue squad dropped down. Once they lifted him over the edge of the hole in the floor they wasted no time carrying him out knowing every second counted and leaving Severide and Casey in the burning basement.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

The pair surveyed the wreckage of the room, looking for anything that could help them get out. Finally they settled on a sturdy looking dining table. They quickly swept it free of the chairs stacked on top of it and dragged it over. They clambered onto it and even though they still couldn't reach the hole, they were much closer now. Severide linked his gloved hands together and offered them to Casey wordlessly. Casey stepped up without argument, even though he didn't want to. With Severide's help he was able to scramble up easily enough and slide around on his stomach to grasp Severide's hands, all too aware of the steadily growing flames.

He slowly began to heft Severide's weight and not a moment too soon because the table collapsed beneath him, weakened by both the fire and the two men's weight. It was an awkward hold, Casey only having Severide's right arm and any attempt to shift the weight to both hands only had Severide slipping. The squad Lieutenant attempted to swing his body back and forth, trying to gain enough momentum to swing himself up over the ledge, but that only managed to shift Casey a few inches closer to the edge.

Casey grunted with exertion and tried to dig his boots into the floor to anchor himself but it was no use; there wasn't even a nearby piece of debris he could hook his foot around. With the men still gone from carrying Herrmann out there was no telling how long it would be until someone got back to help them and Casey didn't know how much longer they could last.

Severide seemed to have come to the same conclusion Casey had because he stared straight up into his eyes and cleared his throat. "Casey," he said, voice surprisingly calm. "Let me go."

Casey stared at him aghast before shaking his head frantically. "No. No way."

Severide grimaced, feeling like he should have expected this. "Look, we're both not going to get out of this. There's no point you dying if you don't have to."

"Severide, shut up."

Severide swallowed audibly, having no idea what he wanted to say but knowing he needed to say something. There was no way he was ending it like this with their last conversation being an argument.

"Casey, listen. I don't want you to think- that is if I don't make it out of here, you need to know that-"

"I don't want your goodbyes," Casey hissed. Severide would have been offended if he hadn't known it was fear that hardened the other man's voice not malice. Severide grimaced as the roaring of the fire increased in volume, signalling that the fire was getting closer and he knew he didn't have much longer to get this out.

"Matt" he insisted and Casey's breathing hitched at the long discarded nickname. "Everything that's happened with Andy? I don't want you to think that I still don't-"

He was cut off once again but this time by a yell from above.

"I got you, Lieutenant." The voice belonged to Mouch who had leapt forward to grab at Casey's sliding ankles. Severide couldn't see what was happening but soon other faces appeared over Casey's shoulders and hands reached down to haul him up. Throughout it all, Casey's hands never left his.

The pair thudded down on the dusty ground, coughing out smoke and gasping for breath. Somehow through all the dust and debris and firefighter's Casey and Severide's eyes found each other and in that moment something powerful and indecipherable shot between them. The shouting and crackling faded to a murmur and the world became nothing more than a pair or blue and green eyes locked in an embrace. But then they were being hauled to their feet and guided to the door and the moment was lost to the burning embers.

The second they were outside they heard the hoses power up and the sizzle of fire being doused and Casey collapsed over his knees, trying to hack up the smoke that was burning his lungs. Finally after regaining his breath he straightened and made a beeline for the chief, intent on finding out about his man.

"How's Herrmann?"

"On his way to Lakeshore." The lack of details spoke volumes and Casey's stomach sunk. He knew there wasn't anything else he could do now other than hope and pray the doctors would take care of him but still it was hard. Casey nodded and turned away, accepting the bottle of water a passing firefighter offered. He dumped the majority of it over his head before using the rest to rinse out his dry mouth as he ambled back over to the truck where Mills was climbing down from the aerial.

"Nice work, Candidate."

Mills smile showed his surprise but he thanked his Lieutenant anyway. Casey allowed him that half a second before he, with a grin on his face, ordered him to start packing up the gear. Mills just chuckled.

"Looks like we're gonna meet the mayor after all," Vargas said staring over Casey's shoulder. The Lieutenant turned just in time to see a face, familiar from posters around the city exiting a black SUV and approaching Boden for a handshake and a smile.

Casey looked away with and glanced up at the still burning building. It would be hours at least before the fires were doused completely.

He was right and the sun was well up when the tired firefighter's of House 51 finally pulled back into the station. The next shift would be in within the next half hour and everyone was glad to see the end of a long day. Casey was just getting ready to leave, intent on dropping by his house for a change of clothes before checking in with Herrmann at the hospital when he stumbled across Dawson hanging up on what looked to be a very serious phone call.

"Union?" he asked, recalling what he'd heard around the house.

"Yeah. They're starting a file on me." Her voice was flat with irritation.

Not knowing what else to say, Casey offered his company, "I'm going to the hospital to check in on Herrmann, if you want to come with."

"What do you know?"

He paused where he was bent over his bag and glanced over at Andy's old locker. "I know we can't lost another one," he said and walked out without another word.

Throughout the ride to the hospital Casey thought of Andy. And because he thought of Andy naturally he thought of Severide. It was almost impossible to think about one without the other. But thinking of Severide also meant thinking about those moments where the squad Lieutenant had dangled over the fire and what had been said in that time. Casey couldn't think of anything he wanted to think about less.

Severide didn't know why he wanted to go to the hospital. Sure they all were in the same house but being the Lieutenant of Squad meant that it wasn't expected he be there. He knew most of his men probably would go straight home, dropping in on Herrmann in the next couple of days. But Severide couldn't stomach the thought of just going home while the ambo girls and truck men waited around for hours.

On his way out of the house he stopped by the kitchen to grab one last cup of decent coffee. He knew from experience that there was nothing worse than the battery acid that constituted as coffee in hospitals. Drawn by some unnamed force Severide found himself in front of the open fridge reaching for a piece of Casey's corned beef. The deliciousness flooded his mouth and Severide tried to ignore the onslaught of memories it brought. Of a summer when this had been a regular occurrence. Of a year spent living with Casey and Darden. Of a better time. Severide ignored it all, tucked the foil back around the plate and headed for the hospital.

Severide tried to ignore all the eyes on him when he walked into the waiting room, taking the seat next to Dawson. But there was one gaze, whose intensity was burning a hole into the side of his face. Glancing around the group of firefighter's it wasn't hard to identify it.

From his place beside Boden, Casey was unabashedly staring at him. There was surprise in his gaze, no doubt wondering why Severide had decided to come but there was also a question there, asking if after everything that happened in that burning building, they were going to finally move on and resurrect some semblance of a working relationship. Severide ducked his head in a nod, part thanking Casey for what he'd done, not that he needed to and part answering that silent question.

Casey nodded back an acknowledgment and that was where they should have looked away. Where it would have been appropriate to do so. But instead their gazes remained firmly locked and Severide felt a twitching of a smile at his lips. The two were so engrossed in one another that it wasn't until a group of nurses went clamouring by did they finally blink and look away.

Casey stood instantly and cleared his throat. "Come get me if there's an update," was all he said before walking out the front.

Once outside, Casey leant against the front of the building, taking in slow, controlled breaths of the cool air. He didn't want to admit it but whatever had just happened between Severide and himself scared the hell out of him. A shift had occurred between them in that fire and Casey wasn't ready to find out what that meant. He hadn't realised how quickly things between him and Severide would return to how they'd been before Andy. And if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure he was ready to open himself up to that type of pain again. Because if he opened himself up to Kelly all over again, he was just inviting that pain back in.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the familiar number. It was a relief when Hallie answered after just a few rings.

"What are you doing?" She said as way of answering.

"Just wanted to hear your voice," he responded, the lie tasting unfamiliar in his mouth.

"How was your shift?"

"It was fine. Typical." The whole conversation felt off, like they were strangers instead of a couple.

"What is it, Matt?"

"Do you think maybe you could find a reason to come over tonight?"

There was a long pause as Hallie digested his words. "Did you work it out?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"You're my girl."

It wasn't a lie. Not exactly. Not when Casey was determined to make sure Hallie stayed in his life. It was better that way.