Halloween came about slowly, with decorations gradually accumulating in the corners of the House, a garland of paper bats here and a skeleton there, everyone thrumming in anticipation for Boden's favourite holiday.

Casey, for once was not looking forward to the holidays. Halloween had never been his favourite holiday - years of candy induced stomach aches having soured the occasion - but he, Darden and Severide had taken to meeting up on that night, eating way too much candy and watching bad horror flicks while Heather took the boys trick or treating. Not only was it going to be the first holiday since losing Darden but what with his split with Severide and Hallie being on shift he was destined to spend the night alone. So to say Casey wasn't looking forward to Halloween, would be an understatement.

Rather than bring the rest of the House down however, Casey had taken to frequenting his own quarters of a shift, staying scarily on top of his paperwork and generally brooding in his own company rather than inflicting his moods on the other occupants. He was deep in his pre-dinner solitary confinement when the call came through, sending all three 51 companies out into the cold night.

"Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, Warehouse fire, 6620 Oak Park."

The house, as always moved quickly, pulling on their turnout gear and collecting their equipment. Boden, hearing that everyone was going out, pulled himself away from his own paperwork to go with them, sensing they might need some guidance on this one. The trucks pulled up with a screech of alarms and horns and the two Lieutenants were out in a second, joining their chief to stare up at the illuminated building.

"This is the old Triskin warehouse," Casey called over the roar of flames.

The Triskan warehouse had been home to a big company and had been just one of many abandoned when they'd gone out of business. Rumour was that they were used frequently now by squatters and other homeless people, particularly in the colder months. The trio edged closer, trying to get a better look at the place.

"Looks like the door's been pried open," Severide said. "Probably squatters; they could be still inside."

Boden made a low sound in his throat as he took inventory of the whole place, calculating just how long they had, or didn't have to go through the place. "Smoke's already coming out pretty quick. We don't have long on this one."

Casey and Severide nodded their agreement, knowing their Chief was right.

Boden pulled his radio closer and clicked it on to talk to the three companies milling around near their trucks, waiting for orders. "Engine 51, give me a 2 ½ in the front door, Truck 81 open up the back and vent the skylights, Severide give me that primary search."

"You got it," Severide responded and hurried away to gather up his men.

Casey approached his own company. "Cruz and Otis raise the aerial and take out the skylights. Herrmann and Mills, let's open up the back and get in there."

He took the halligan offered to him by Mills and moved off, leading the other two round to the back of the warehouse.

Severide meanwhile, went in from the front, directing his men with short orders. "Smoke's bad. Get the doors down fast."

The doors were pretty flimsy, primitive planks of wood hammered into place that only took a few hard to striked to pry away from the doorframe. They moved in without hesitation, instantly fanning out to look for victims.

"Fire department! Call out!"

In the distance, Severide could hear Casey, Herrmann and Mills yelling similarly.

"Fire department! Anyone in here?" Hadley called from his left.

From the yells Severide had to guess that no one had found anyone yet other than Tony who had just left with an unconscious woman in tow. He was just thinking they were about to run into the Truck group when he tripped over something. A quick look down told him that it had been a person's leg. Severide, along with Capp who had been right on his ass quickly shoved the debris off the man and he helped the other firefighter hoist the man over his shoulder, ignoring the flare of pain in his shoulder as he did, allowing Capp to take the victim out to the ambulances. Once he was sure Capp could handle it and he saw that Hadley was heading out with his own victim he moved on.

Severide had just caught sight of Mills through the haze of smoke when the call came through.

"All companies, evacuate the building."

When Mills didn't immediately turn to leave, Severide stumbled forward grabbing a hold of whatever bit he could reach and started tugging him out.

"Wait," the boy protested, struggling to remain where he was but Severide wasn't taking no for an answer and he sure as hell wasn't leaving Mills there either.

Just when Severide was wondering whether he was going to have to drag the kid kicking and screaming from the building, Casey appeared out of nowhere and Severide didn't bother pausing to figure out when he'd come back in; Casey grabbed the kid's other arm and together they started to drag him out, holding onto him until he cooperated and stopped moving against them. They waded through the smoke and debris of the building, emerging from the smoke spilling from the open doors to find half the shift watching them expectantly.

Mills ripped his mask off and headed straight for the Chief. "There's a guy still inside," he panted. "I saw him."

Severide's stomach twisted uncomfortably and he glanced at Casey who looked similarly distressed. It made sense now, why Mills had been so reluctant to leave. They'd all been there and knew what it was like, walking away when they knew someone was left inside.

"Chief, give me one more minute to go back in there," Mills implored.

But Boden was firm. "No, it's over. No more minutes."

Severide sighed and pulled off his helmet to wipe at his sweaty forehead. Nearly everyone as a young firefighter went through this particular dilemma; being so young they hadn't seen enough to know that they weren't invincible yet. That would come later. But for now they hadn't experienced the loss of one of their own and they were convinced that they could do it all and save everyone. Severide knew from experience that they would remain that way until they actually saw the consequences of a fire. It was sad but true.

Which was why Severide understood both why Boden refused him but also why Mills continued to fight.

"He could be alive. Just give me one more minute. I know I can get to him. I know-"

"You're not going anywhere."

Severide saw Casey hovering just over Mills' shoulder prepared to haul him back if the kid decided to do anything stupid. It wouldn't be the first time.

"This building's about to flash."

"Chief, I could-"

"Enough! All officers, take count of your firefighters. Nobody goes back in."

Boden nodded in response to Casey's questioning glance and seemingly placated that Boden would handle Mills, the blonde stepped away to obey orders and take a quick head count. Severide followed suit.

"All members out of the collapse zone," Boden continued when all three Lieutenants confirmed their numbers and together as a house the three companies backed away from the burning building, pressing themselves closer to the trucks. They stood in silence, the only noise being the scream of the fire ravaging the building waiting for the inevitable. It came out of nowhere but most of them didn't so much as flinch when a whole block of windows suddenly exploded as fire rushed out looking for something else to burn.

"Fire up the water canons," Boden ordered and the Engine men were quick to comply, the roar of the fire being quickly replaced by the sizzle of dying flames. With their job done the rest of the men began to disperse leaving the overhaul work for the engine boys to do while they headed back to the House for some much needed rest.

Casey expected the talk with Mills, but it didn't make it any easier to get his point across when Mills came asking questions the very next shift.

"Lieutenant, can I ask you something?"

Casey nodded his assent not slowly down as he headed towards the rec room.

"In general, when the chief says, 'everybody out of a building now,' how much time do we really have? A minute? 30 seconds?"

Rather than answering him, Casey focussed on what he knew was really bothering the young candidate. "Don't beat yourself up, Mills."

"See the thing is, I was closest to the victim. I-I could see him, you know?"

And the problem was he did know. Casey had been there a hundred times before and left agonising over the what if's and the could have been's. But because he had been there a hundred times before he also knew that something you just had to learn to accept if you were going to survive being a firefighter and this was just one of them.

"When chief says 'now' he means now. Not 30 seconds, not any seconds," Casey said firmly. "Got it?"

Although Mills said he did, Casey doubted it. It wasn't something that just clicked. As a candidate Casey had fought tooth and nail - still did as a matter of fact - every time someone tried to suggest they leave a victim behind to save themselves. It was fine line, Mills would have to discover, between listening to the chief and saving everyone possible. Casey nodded, clapped a quick hand on Mills shoulder before continuing on to the rec room. True understanding would only come with time and experience.

Severide's arm had been searing with pain all morning but it really came to a head in the locker room where as he was reaching to put his bag away his whole arm twisted painfully until not crying out a curse was no longer an option. In a misguided, automatic attempt to distract him from the pain in his neck, he punched out at his locker door, only managing to extend the pain beyond his shoulder and into his hand.

"Morning, Lieutenant." The chipper, way-to-happy-for-the-early-hour voice reminded him promptly that he was in a public locker room and that if he wanted to keep his injury between just him and Shay he would need to work a bit harder.

For pretenses sake he grunted back his own "Morning," keeping his eyes fixed on the locker in front of him in an attempt of warding any further conversation off.

But Vargas apparently didn't get the message because he paused behind the Lieutenant's back. "You get hurt the other night?"

"Mind not turning the locker room into a chat room?" Severide snapped, pretenses be damned.

"Yeah," Vargas mumbled dejectedly and hurried off before he could get yelled at about something else.

Severide stood from the bench with a barely restrained growl, kicked the locker door shut with an echoing bang and stalked from the room, figuring a cup of coffee or something would settle him. He stormed through the house, one hand clenched around the muscle of his shoulder, the expression on his face dark enough to stop anyone from so much as saying good morning.

In the rec room, Mouch was twisted in his seat, eyes fixed determinedly on the cupboards in the kitchen, above which he knew the candy was hidden. Severide strode past and set to fix himself a cup of something hot, mood darkening further when he noticed that the person before him hadn't bothered to refill the coffee machine.

"Just take the damn piece of candy already. She won't notice," Cruz said as he wandered past, looking bored with the lack of activity around the house.

"I'm not climbing onto the counter," Mouch shot back reproachfully as though such act was beneath him although all there knew it wasn't.

"Hey, did you guys hear that Casey's going to testify against Detective Voight's son?" Cruz said, voice lowering slightly and casting a furtive look around as if he expected Voight to jump out from behind the television.

Severide clenched a fist to stop from saying anything stupid and wondered why the coffee machine was taking so damn long.

Unable to help himself, Otis was the next to speak, putting in, "Apparently, Dawson's brother says it's a risky move, and Voight's a dangerous son of a bitch."

Severide rolled his head irritably. He didn't know why the talk was getting on his nerves today, God knew he should be used to firehouse gossip but every word that was spoken seemed to be grating on his already shot nerves. He poured himself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and tried to tune out the conversation. But Mouch managed to snap his fragile control with just a few words anyway.

"I wouldn't put my ass on the line like that."

"What is with you damn truck guys turning this house into a Goddamn mother's meeting. Mind your own business," he growled and stormed from the room, nearly taking out Herrmann who was on his way in.

"What the hell's his problem," Otis asked as the rest of the room sat in stunned silence at the abrupt departure.

"I don't know but he just reamed Vargas in the locker room for asking him if he was alright," Herrmann said with a solemn head shake.

"Maybe he's worried about Casey?" Mouch asked.

"Why would he be worried about Casey. Didn't say two words to him for the month after Darden," Cruz put in sharply.

"Well maybe they're back together," Mouch said, his tone implying it should have been obvious.

Herrmann shook his head doubtfully and opened his mouth to speak but shut it again real quick when Casey wandered into the kitchen. He delivered his own well aimed kick to Otis' shin when it looked like he was ready to put his two cents in and looked meaningfully as their Lieutenant.

"Uh, Lieutenant, you need any help with the Detective Voight situation, you let me know. When I became union rep, they sent me a bunch of brochures." Mouch called out as their Lieutenant passed by.

Casey nodded distractedly. "I'm good, thanks though. I just need to testify at the arraignment, once it's set."

When it was clear the subject was dropped Herrmann took the newspaper tucked under his arm and slapped it down on the table. "You see this crap?"

Mouch and Otis were quick to hold up their own copies, each emblazoned with the same headline: HOMELESS MAN DIES IN WAREHOUSE FIRE.

Mills, having just arrived shuffled over to have a look, frowning when he saw the story. "Why is it crap?" he wanted to know. "I just mean that's what happened, isn't it?" he continued quickly when he saw the insulted looks being thrown his way.

"Where's the headline about how we busted out humps and saved three guys, huh?"

Casey watched the group carefully from the other side ready to interfere should the disagreement escalate but was saved by the sudden appearance of Boden and the rest of the house.

"Everybody listen up. Today, our very own Jose Vargas transfers from truck to squad. As of now, he's officially a member of Rescue Squad 3."

Severide met Casey's eyes across the room, eyebrow quirking, half in apology, half a silent question asking if he was ok with this. Casey wasn't completely, there was some part of him that was still bitter over seeing one of his best firefighter's transferring out of his company but he inclined his head in a slight nod anyway, too used to it to put up any sort of argument, as if that would make a difference anyway.

The house clapped and congratulated the proud man appropriately and Otis, as expected had to throw in his own lighthearted yet sarcastic comment. Casey approached his former company member and offered a hand for him to shake.

"Best of luck."

"Thanks Lieutenant."

The lively atmosphere was broken quickly however by the appearance of Nicki who was wearing a concerned frown. "Hey Lieutenant Casey, I just saw your car out front. Something happened to it."

Casey hurried out to investigate, Herrmann and Cruz right on his tail. Severide hesitated for a second, unsure of himself before following them out. When they got out there it was obvious straight away what had happened: all four tyres of Casey's truck had been slashed and one window had been smashed in.

"What the hell?" he complained, kicking at his ruined tyres.

"This is why I can't stand Halloween, man," Cruz responded, circling the car looking for any more damages. "The punks, they go wild."

Seeing that the frown on his face hadn't moved an inch, Severide reached out automatically and settled a comforting hand on Casey's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Don't worry about it Casey. It's bound to be a bunch of stupid kids trying to be funny."

Struck dumb by the sudden feeling of Severide's warm, calloused hand settling against the curve of his shoulder, Casey couldn't manage much more than a noncommittal grunt and nod before stepping away from the touch. It had been months since he and Severide had so much as brushed fingers and the sudden feeling along with the vandalism of his car was more than he could handle.

He started forward and leaned in through the broken window to dig through the front seat, taking a quick inventory of the possessions.

"My gym bag got lifted," Casey groaned, immediately taking note of the missing bag that had been sitting on the floor of the passenger seat.

"Right in front of the station too," Herrmann said. "Calls the cops and file a report."

But all Casey could think of was Detective Voight and the last thing he'd promised at the bar the other night: I can take this to the next level real easy. Casey had been at 51 his entire career and he'd never encountered so much as a scratch on his car so he couldn't help but feel like this had to be Voight's doing somehow.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "I should."

Before Herrmann or the others could press him any further on the matter the ring of the bells from the depths of the station interrupted them and they started to head inside, anticipating the call.

"Truck 81, Squad 3. House fire, 220 South Kilbourn."

The four jogged back into the house, Severide finding his company ready and waiting for him. He unhooked his jacket from the door handle and vaulted in, barking for Tony to drive even before he'd shut the door. He pulled his jacket on, on the way over and hopped out to find a little old lady standing outside her smoking garage, fire extinguisher in one hand, cane in the other.

"Fire is out on arrival," Severide said into his radio. "Hold all incoming companies. We'll do a little overhaul."

He heard the muffled responses of Casey and the Truck Lieutenant and headed over to the woman.

"You okay, ma'am?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I must have dropped a cigarette or something when I was cleaning the garage. So stupid," she continued with a mumble.

"Well, good job putting it out," Severide said, relieving her of the extinguisher and setting it aside.

He stepped further inside the garage, taking a quick intake of the garage. His eyes immediately found the scorched and dented end of the woman's car and felt a frown tugging at his lips. He hadn't recognised the address straight away, what with the amount of calls they went on every day. Mrs Grady, he remembered now looking at the car.

"We were here a few weeks ago. Fire in your car, parked out front."

She turned to him slowly, a trace of fear flickering in her dark eyes before disappearing. "The car's old."

"Two fires in two weeks?" Severide said, trying for concern in his tone.

"Bad luck always comes in streaks," Mrs Grady said in a calm tone that Severide didn't believe for a second. He didn't miss the careful look over the shoulder at the two mean looking teenagers passing by the uniformed police who were hanging around.

Still he let it go and asked for her to take him inside so he could check the rest of the house. It all looked good inside, the adjoining walls not feeling hot or even warm to touch and no sign of scorch marks. He paused for a second by the wall to look at a well used table bearing stacks of framed photographs. At the front of the bunch was an old black and white of a couple on their wedding day.

"Me and my late husband," Mrs Grady said, a touch of love and longing colouring her words.

"How long were you married?"

"45 years," she said proudly. "Until he passed."

Severide blew out a surprised breath. Coming from his background where his parents had split up before he'd even made it to school and his dad was up to wife number four, making it to ten years of marriage seemed like a miracle let alone 45.

"Wow. What's the secret?"

Mrs Grady chuckled and shook her head and Severide felt himself smiling as well. "I never asked. Just counted my blessings everyday."

He smiled one last time, declared the house to be fine and bid her a good day before heading back out to his men.

"She say what happened?" Capp asked, coming from round back where he'd been checking the back of the garage.

"Nuh-uh."

Severide glanced around curiously, taking careful note of the figures prowling around on the opposite street corner, the entire groups eyes fixed firmly on the movements of the firefighters. It was more than a little suspicious but without anything else to go on and Mrs Grady's adamancy that the fire had been an accident, there wasn't much else to do but go home.

Back at the house, the Truck company had taken advantage of being out to gas up the truck and were only just getting back, finding the very horrible situation of a broken television. Dawson and Shay were wedged behind the cabinet trying to get it going again but it wasn't looking good.

"What the hell happened?" Herrmann barked, eyeing the girls skeptically.

"It went out." Shay shrugged and wiggled the cord she was fiddling with.

"What?" Otis and Mouch whined together.

"It just needed a new cord," Boden said calmly, playing around with the remote. "Nobody panic."

"Alright," Dawson said, dusting her hands off on her pants. "Try it now."

Boden clicked the remote a few times and the tv flickered back to life, albeit a little reluctantly, but once the picture focussed it remained that way.

"Halloween horror marathon, channel 11 please," Otis said, sprawling onto the lounge.

"We are back," Mouch crowed and claiming the other end while Dawson vaulted over the coffee table to steal the final spot in the middle. Casey hovered behind them, wondering if maybe he would stay for a movie or go back to his own quarters.

Complying to Otis' request, Boden flicked through the channels pausing only when a news banner along the bottom of the screen caught his attention long enough to stop and listen to what the man on the screen was saying.

"My brother died because he was homeless and poor. If he had been a firefighter or a banker in a fancy apartment, they would have found a way to save him."

Casey thought he had a pretty good idea where this guy was going with this and his heart sank as he noticed both Mills and Boden hanging onto every word the guy said. If this was what he thought it was, neither was going to take it well.

"It was recorded on a cell phone."

And as Casey expected when the guy turned his phone around to face the camera the tinny but unmistakable voices of Boden and Mills drifted through, the latter pleading to go back into the warehouse. All present remembered the scene all too well without the reminder. When the video played itself out the man dropped his hand triumphantly and shook his head.

"Even his own men wanted to go back in and save my brother's life, but the chief on the scene, Wallace Boden, said no."

Mills dropped his head in defeat and the room shifted out of exasperation and dismay as the man disappeared from the screen to be replaced by a woman with a serious expression and an obviously fake tan. Boden clicked off the television, plunging the room into charged silence, none knowing what to say.

"Chief," Casey tried but Boden merely raised a hand to ward off anymore words and swept from the room, leaving the rest of the house in an awkward silence.

The news report had put a dampen on the Halloween spirit and after that no one much felt like talking so Casey found himself excusing himself and retreating to his office where he had a report to finish and some paperwork regarding a construction job to complete.

He was still on edge over the whole news report thing, which was only adding to his troubles with Voight however so when Hallie made a sudden appearance and slipped into his quarters, tugging the door shut behind her, he was on the defensive in a second.

"Everything okay?"

"Of course," Hallie said in surprise. "Why do you look worried."

"I-I'm not worried," Casey replied. "Just surprised."

"Well, I was thinking about our new plan to start fresh, and I realised…"

"What?"

"That there is something we talked about doing and never did."

Her movement to turn and close the blinds stretching along the wall had him raising an eyebrow, already picking up on the suggestiveness of her smile. She sashayed forward and slipped onto Casey's lap without another word, leaning forward to kiss him lightly, teasing him with what was about to come.

As the kiss deepened with passion, Casey reached between them to unzip her jacket, revealing only a black bra and no shirt, his eyes drinking in the miles of tanned skin that was exposed. Hallie tugged off Casey's own shirt and as soon as it was discarded to the side, he stood, firm hands under her thighs keeping Hallie from falling. He deposited her on the bed and was quick to join her and indulge in a moment of passion amongst the crumbling world.

Still caught up on Mrs Grady and the call to her house from that morning Severide got in touch with an old friend he knew was working the streets with the police department and traded in a favour the man owed him, asking him to look into the two fires at her house. Then he gathered up his company and instructed them to head out, not telling them much more than that they were "going for a ride."

The ride over was almost silent; Severide didn't much feel like talking and apparently his men picked up on that because they didn't try to engage in conversation, neither with him or each other. They pulled up quietly and Severide sprung from his seat, calling over his shoulder for them to stay in the truck.

"Hey Bobby," he said shaking hands with the man. "Thanks for coming."

"Hey man. How are you doing?"

"Good." Severide answered but Severide was distracted by the police file he spied in Bobby's hand.

"So, what's the deal here?"

"You tell me," Severide replied, leading the way to Mrs Grady's front door. He knocked and only had to wait a few seconds before he head the shuffling sound of feet and the click of a lock before Mrs Grady's kind face was appearing from behind the opening door. "Mrs Grady, how are you, ma'am?"

"I'm fine."

"We just had a few questions about those fires that you had."

Mrs Grady smiled, a little resignedly. "They were accidents. I don't know any more than I've already told you." Her tone begged for Severide to let it go but he wasn't giving up that easily.

"Okay, well, we just want to make sure that there are no more… incidents."

"Sorry," she said apologetically and shuffled back inside, closing the door before either Severide or Bobby could get another word out, leaving them to stare at the festive orange wreath attached to her door.

"Someone set fire to her car two weeks ago. This morning, her garage burns. She says-"

"She said they were just accidents," Bobby interrupted.

"They weren't," Severide said. He'd been a firefighter long enough to know that when a car goes up that it's the hood of the car that gets it the most, not the boot and that it was very unlikely that a cigarette started the garage fire this morning.

"Why do you think somebody would come after?" Bobby's tone wasn't disbelieving, merely curious. "I mean, she lives alone. She keeps to herself."

He made a fair point Severide knew and he was left speechless for a moment as he looked out across the street. Then his eyes fell on the nature strip across the road where two young figures were watching them carefully.

"Pick a reason," Severide finally said, not liking the look of them at all. Bobby shrugged a response, told him he'd keep a look out but the apologetic look in his eye told Severide all he needed to know. The Lieutenant on the other hand wasn't so willing to give up. He didn't know exactly how yet, but he wasn't about to let the sweet old women get hurt any further.