The second Hallie's name popped up on his phone, for the first time in years, Severide was on his guard. They didn't get along at the best of times but his slowly repairing friendship with Casey was too important to him to not take the call. So with growing feelings of trepidation he pressed accept.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kelly."

"What's up, Hallie?" he said, carefully keeping his tone from getting too sharp or suspicious.

"I know you have a shift starting soon. But I was wondering if we could grab a quick coffee before? It- it's about Matt."

Severide's stomach dropped immediately to his toes and his mind jumped to the sight of Matt lying bruised and battered in that hospital bed. If something worse had happened-

"What?" he croaked.

Hallie must had heard the fear in his voice because she was quick to reassure him. "No," she said. "He's fine. I just wanted to talk to you about the whole Voight thing."

Severide swallowed thickly and nodded automatically for a moment before remembering he was on the phone. "Yeah," was all he could manage. He named a cafe near enough to the station and they agreed to meet in half an hour.

He didn't really have to get moving straight away but after the call he was too worked up and curious about what Hallie could possibly have to say to him that there was no use lazing around the apartment. Instead he got dressed quickly, throwing on the uniform he usually just took with him just in case their coffee made them late and left, calling a goodbye to a still waking up Shay over his shoulder.

He arrived at the little place, one of his favourites due to it's proximity to both his apartment and the station, and intimate feeling and grabbed one of the many free tables, the place practically empty due to the early hour. Anyone else up was lined up for a takeaway coffee on their way to work.

Apparently he wasn't the only one nervous because he'd barely been sitting there a few minutes before Hallie, looking unhappy and ten minutes early herself was pushing open the door and stepping inside. He stood at her arrival and they exchanged the polite and obligatory kiss on the cheek and light hug that defined their relationship before taking their seats.

Since she was the one who'd invited him, Severide remained quiet as she settled; she kept her bag on her lap and her jacket remained firmly on her shoulders so Severide supposed that this visit wouldn't last long.

"Thank you for meeting me," she said. The way she said was as though she'd thought he might not have and Severide inwardly cursed himself. He respected Hallie more than he often showed; she'd done a lot of work helping the sick and poor, he knew she wanted to spend time in developing countries and honestly if they both didn't love Matt so much that it came between them he thought they might have been friends. As it was their relationship, once workable had now deteriorated to such a point that she thought he might not come when she called, even if it was about Matt.

"Of course," he said.

"I hope it wasn't an inconvenience. I know your shift is starting soon."

"Not at all," Severide said quickly. "I know this whole Voight thing as been pretty bad so if you ever need anything, you can always call me."

Hallie's lips turned up in a surprised smile but her voice was genuine when she thanked him. "I know you and Matt have been getting close again," she said, fingers idly playing with her engagement ring.

Severide was saved having to think up a response to that by the sudden appearance of the waitress. "Can I get you anything?"

"Coffee's fine," Hallie answered distractedly.

"Same," Severide agreed.

"This isn't something I wanted to go to the Chief about because…" Hallie trailed off and as Severide was waiting for her to continue he was shocked to find tears welling up in her eyes. "God, I'm so sorry," she said looking away and Severide reached out and gripped one of her hands, not knowing what else to do. He wasn't very good with crying women.

"It's fine. What's wrong?"

Hallie shook her head and sniffed. "It's just- it's the whole Detective Voight thing."

"I don't- isn't Dawson's brother helping?" Severide asked, thinking of the look on Casey's face after the failed meeting the other day.

"He has been. It's just I have never seen Matt like this and I just have this feeling that something bad is going to happen."

Severide didn't confirm her suspicions and tell her about how Matt had seemed last shift, that wouldn't have helped her, instead he asked her the one thing he could think of.

"What can I do?"

Hallie took a deep breath. "Matt's deposition is scheduled after his shift. Once he testifies against Voight's son, it's- it's all over. And I don't know if it's worth it anymore, just to prove a point."

Severide stiffened a little at that and tried not to look at her incredulously. If she seriously thought was doing this, putting them both through it just to prove a point then maybe she didn't know Matt as well as he'd thought.

He barely heard her as she continued.

"And I'm thinking more and more that maybe Matt shouldn't go through with it."

"You should tell Matt this yourself," he said firmly, hoping to stay out of it.

"I did," she replied and Severide's stomach dropped for the second time that morning. "Last night. He wouldn't listen. But I think he would if it came from you."

Severide sighed and bit at his lip. Then he glanced at the clock and realised that he was about to be late for his shift. Saved by the bell.

"I'll try my best," he said as he stood, a non-answer if there ever was one and he gestured to the clock.

She nodded her understanding and he gave her a grim smile and moved to walk past her but she caught his hand. "Thank you, Kelly." She squeezed his hand and let go allowing him to flee the shop quickly.

It would be one thing, he thought as he drove the short distance to the house, if he actually agreed with what she was saying. The problem was that he didn't. It would be one thing if it was what he would have done. But he was completely in agreement with Casey and that made it kind of hard to convince Casey not to testify.

He put the thought away to ponder over later as he pulled up outside 51, knowing that his mind had to be totally devoted to the job while he was here. He was glad he'd worn his uniform in because the shift was just changing and it looked like his men were ready to go; 81 was already gone from their spot. It was easy enough to toss his bag onto the squad table, grab the gear the others had ready for him and hop into the cab of the truck.

From the half-finished graffiti, to the scared teenager clinging to the wall on a ladder, to the lazy sprawl of the 81 company watching from the ground it was pretty clear what had happened. Casey stood at the bottom, spinning a halligan leisurely in his hands and occasionally offered encouragement to the kid.

"Don't let go, the Squad will be here soon."

Severide shook his head head with a snort and made his way over to the Engine truck lined up beneath the ledge, cherry picker fired and up and ready to go. None of the other trucks had the cherry picker attached, mostly because it was rarely used but Squad members were the only one authorised for this type of rescue. The Truck members weren't really needed at all at the scene but regulations were regulations.

Severide climbed up onto the truck, hopped into the basket and set the cherry picker to move. From there it was just a matter of waiting for the right height, making the minimal adjustments to get himself in the right spot and dodge the falling cans of spray paint as the ladder the kid was on trembled.

"Hold still," Severide ordered as another one narrowly missed his head. "Just relax. Zit?" Severide asked, reading the unfinished name, half-spray painted on the wall and nodded at it.

"I didn't do that!" the kid protested looking between him and the wall wildly.

Severide shrugged. "Of course not.

He tugged up on the controls again but the cherry picker had extended as far as it could and there was still a gap between the basket and the kid.

"This is as far as I can go," he called.

The kid eyed the gap between them and asked incredibly, "You mean drop?"

Severide's lips thinned into a flat line. He'd figured between the drop to the basket and the drop to the ground the choice would be relatively easy.

"That's right," he said pleasantly.

He had no sympathy for these kids. They got themselves into trouble when every day Severide saw people's lives ravaged by fire they had no control over. So he had no patience for kids who purposefully put themselves in danger for stupid things like this.

The kid's eyes were firmly on the ground which Severide could admit looked pretty far away but for Severide who spent most of his days up high or in other dangerous situations he didn't even blink when he followed the kid's line of sight. Casey was the only one he could see, ready to step in if anything went wrong while the rest of the men were leaning against their respective trucks. He could almost hear Herrmann's disapproval of the graffiti from up there.

"Just slide on down nice and easy," Severide said soothingly, reaching up like a parent catching their child jumping into the pool. "I got you."

He might have done it then if he hadn't spied the two cop cars pulling to a halt beneath them.

"You called the cops?!"

The kid inched down slightly, hovering a foot out like he was deliberating jumping and Severide would have hissed in irritation if he had time. As it was the balance was thrown off and the ladder slid and tipped precariously.

Severide leaned further over the edge, dodging more falling cans and grunted as he tried to reach the flailing kid. "Now! Just drop!"

Finally the teenager did as he was told and half leapt, half fell into the basket with a painful sounding thump.

"Coming down," Severide said into his radio after making sure the kid was alright and turned to direct the basket down after Casey's radioed "all clear" back.

Down on the ground, Casey watched as Severide made his way back to solid ground. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Boden approaching his company and Dawson and Shay packing up the stretcher they'd had ready in case an accident occurred.

He also noticed when another unmarked police car pulled up and Voight and a Detective got out. He stiffened all over and the pair got more than a few head turns as they started to make their way over. Casey rolled the halligan in his grip and went to meet them, Boden stepping in front of him before he could get close.

"Kelly," the Chief barked and Severide glanced around the back of the truck he'd just gotten off to see the confrontation about to go down.

He was at Casey's side in a instant, touching his shoulder gently, warningly. The rest of the Truck company slowly migrated to their Lieutenant while Boden intercepted Voight. Severide heard Voight spout some bullshit about needing to see the tag but he couldn't care less about what came out of his mouth. He was more focussed on his friend.

"Come on, you don't want to do this. Not here."

Casey's eyes finally left Voight and met Severide's own green ones and he relaxed fractionally, stepping back a little.

Boden finished with Voight and turned away, jaw clenched. "Pack it up," he ordered.

Casey didn't move right away but Mouch and Otis started ushering him backwards and the firm presence of Severide's hand on his back was enough to get him moving.

Voight apparently couldn't let it go however because the minute Casey turned his back the detective was calling his name.

"You got your deposition tomorrow," he continued once Casey had glanced back. Severide didn't even bother turning, keeping a careful eye on Casey's face.

"Come on. Let's go," Severide said insistently, catching his shoulder and turning him back around again. Casey's muscles were tense under his fingers but he didn't resist and kept walking. Until Voight's next words that is.

"Let me ask you, is that cute, little fiancee of yours gonna be there too? 'Cause I gotta tell you, the other night, when we were talking she seemed kinda, I don't know, shut down. But by the end of it, she really started to open up."

Casey had whirled around and was striding towards Voight before Severide or the others could blink. They caught up fairly quick however and were hauling him back before he could get too far, Severide's arm going around his chest like an unrelenting steel bar.

Voight's partner seemed unsettled, hand even going to his holster on impulse but Voight barely blinked.

"Your day's coming," Casey snarled but didn't fight to get any closer.

He slowly stepped back but Severide didn't let go straight away, hand staying on his back even after he'd turned and started striding back to his truck. The others he shook off but he allowed Severide's hand to remain, taking comfort in the steady weight.

Casey had just about expected it but that didn't make it any easier when he was called into Boden's office when they got back to the house. Boden order to close the door behind him when he appeared in the doorway told him all he needed to know.

"You alright?" Boden asked, coming around to lean against the front of his desk.

Casey tried to play it off lightly with a scoff and an easy answer but truthfully he was still a little rattled by the encounter, both Voight's words and the way he'd reacted.

"What do you want to do?" Boden continued.

"About?"

"You. You want to go out on calls, stay here in the house, take some time off?"

"Go out on calls," Casey answered immediately. It wasn't even really a question. He thought he'd go crazy if he had to sit at home without work.

"Then you have to do it right."

'I have been,' Casey almost said but he knew he hadn't; not the last call at least. He remained silent.

It was as though Boden had read his mind. "You've heard me say this a million times," he said gently but firmly. "In this job, regardless of what's going on in your life, you take your eye off it for one second, people can die."

Casey nodded slowly. "You're right. I have heard you say that and we're in agreement. It won't happen again."

"I wish I could do more to fix this, but right now, it is just a matter of trusting the system."

Casey took that as his dismissal, nodded once more and turned for the doorway.

"But Matt," Boden said before he left. "There won't be another warning."

He left the office quietly torn between being annoyed with Boden and understanding where he was coming from.

He passed Severide in the hallway with a mumbled "hey" and the other man must have seen something on his face because he doubled back to walk with him.

"Look, man, you want to hit somebody, my buddy has a boxing gym over in Bucktown. You get a trainer, glove up, hit mitts. We could head over there after shift."

The offer was nice enough but Casey was too torn up over his talk with Boden to make a decision right then.

"Yeah, um, maybe. Let me get back to you."

"No worries, man. No pressure. Just let me know."

"Thanks," Casey said and with a clap to Severide's shoulder he retreated to his private quarters.

It was odd sometimes working in a fire station, Casey came to decide long ago. Some days they never left the station and had to fill up the endless 24 hour shifts. Others it seemed like they barely set foot back inside before the bells were going off again. Every day regardless was filled with pain and injury and often, death; they couldn't save everyone after all.

So it wasn't that they welcomed the blast of the alarms exactly. It was hard to welcome something that often involved a person in danger or one of his colleagues almost dying. But the callouts did break up the monotony of the day if nothing else. Although with all the risks they took daily sometimes monotony was what Casey craved.

It was one of those days that was already going badly enough that Casey's stomach lurched when the bells went off again, not wanting to give the universe the chance to mess up his life even more.

"Ambulance 61, Truck 81. Gunshot victim."

If they were being called out to a gunshot it meant they were probably needed from something as simple as traffic control. Casey breathed a sigh of relief as he jogged from his office and out onto the apparatus floor.

Severide made a face at him as he ran past, looking bored playing cards with his company. Casey flashed his own teasing grin back, knowing that if there was a call, Severide would prefer to be on it. It wasn't in his nature to sit idly by.

The scene was a mess when they pulled up and Casey could see straight away why they'd been called out. It was pretty clear what had happened; someone on the bus had been shot and the driver had swerved blocking off all the traffic lined up behind it. Impatient people were swearing out their open windows and had their hands planted firmly on their horns, the loud noises only adding to the confusion.

The ambo girls and his company began to weave their way through the crowd of cars trying to get to the bus. Still on edge from the morning's encounter with Voight Casey was even less in the mood to deal with the rude people than usual. When a driver yelled some abuse at him he banged on her car's hood calling a stern warning over his shoulder.

The driver of the bus was waiting for them outside her vehicle and quickly directed Dawson and Shay to the victim. After confirming that the shooter was gone Casey started commanding his men.

"Cruz, Mills, in the bus. Cones and flares," he said to the rest. "Let's get these cars moving," he continued shooting a dark glare at the waiting cars.

From there it was easy but slow work. There wasn't enough room to get more than one car through at a time and the driver's weren't very grateful about it. They yelled and whined all wanting to be the first let through and even when they did go past they still hurled insults out open windows more often than not. They'd all been there before though so they just took it on the chin and waved the next person through.

Then there were the ones who just didn't listen and held them up even further. Then at least the other drivers had two people to split their abuse between. Herrmann, more than a couple of time whistled impatiently before guiding them through.

They'd gotten the bulk of the people through by the time Dawson and Shay came hurrying out with their victim in tow. The chief had just arrived and Casey's phone had just buzzed with an incoming text.

Leaving Herrmann in charge of the half dozen cars left Casey walked off to check it, not seeing the impatient car coming for him too quickly before it was too late. The small nudge at his legs wasn't enough to hurt so it was shock, annoyance and his pent up feelings from the morning that had him exploding at the angry woman behind the wheel.

"What was that?"

The woman yelled back a answer made unintelligible by the long, drawn out blast of her horn. The woman waved him away dismissively and tried to edge around him, revving her car more than was strictly necessary.

"You're going to have to wait," Casey snapped, unaware of the attention he was receiving from his Chief.

The woman in the car didn't pay attention to his words and kept going, prompting Casey to roll his eyes.

"Go on then," he said and stepped out of the way. She pulled away with nothing more than the screech of tyres and one final curse yelled out the window.

He didn't notice the chief approaching until he was right in front, staring him down grimly.

"Casey," he barked. "Your shift is over."

Casey couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Oh, come on chief," he protested. He knew acting out at civilians was frowned upon to a certain extent and grounds for suspension beyond that but he didn't think anything he'd said had been that bad.

"No, no, no," Boden said with a firm shake of his head. "Go home. Head for the house. Whatever you want. But you are done for today."

Boden pointed behind him insistently when all Casey could do was stand and gape. He turned to Herrmann in astonishment but all he got was a sympathetic shrug in response. Casey shook his head in bewilderment and stalked off without another word, kicking out at the side of the truck in irritation.

Severide was searching through the mess cluttering the dispatch bay when truck 81 rolled back onto the apparatus floor. He'd been halfheartedly trying to look for some report while waiting for the truck company to get back, planning to ask Casey if he wanted to hit the gym with him to relieve his boredom. When he couldn't immediately see Casey in his usual spot in the front passenger seat, the same place he sat in his own truck he squinted in confusion. Confusion which only grew when he saw Otis heading to the equipment room with Casey's turnout gear.

"Where's Casey," he asked Herrmann the minute the man stepped foot inside.

Herrmann's lips were pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. "Boden sent him home. Just left."

He didn't wait to get any more information out of Herrmann, turned on his heel and headed for the chief's office.

"Chief," he said, exasperation as evident in his voice as the question.

Boden seemed to read his mind because he didn't need to say anything more than that to understand.

"I'm not taking any more chances."

Severide didn't want to know what had gone down at the scene; by the call it seemed like the truck wouldn't have much to do but if Casey was still worked up about the morning all bets were off.

"He's doing the right thing," he reminded Boden. "And he's getting his ass kicked for it."

"You don't think I know that," Boden shot back.

"Then he needs to be here," Severide said. "Where we can keep an eyes on him." He'd almost said 'where I can keep an eye on him' but checked himself in time and didn't give the almost slip much thought.

He was too preoccupied by Boden who was already shaking his head tiredly. "Kelly, I tried that already."

"So he's better off out there by himself, pissed off, not thinking straight-"

"This is a fire house," Boden hissed, all fired up suddenly and leaning forward over his desk. "Not just some of the time or for some of the calls. Any man who walks through that door has gotta be ready. And if he isn't he's gonna be walking in the other direction."

Severide was quiet. He knew Boden was right but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"I am a fire chief first and I am a friend second," Boden continued in a softer voice. "Casey's just gonna have to find his own way from now on."

"And where do you think that's going to take him," Severide said, voice rising as he thought of all the trouble a worked up Casey could get into. Most of the time he could count on his friend to be calm, logical but when someone came after him or someone he loved, more often than not all that logic went flying out the window.

Boden didn't flinch however and just calmly regarded his Lieutenant. "Look Kelly, you can get him here, he's welcome. He'll always be welcome. I just can't have him going out on shifts the way he is at the moment."

"Alright," Severide said and swallowed thickly. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

He had his phone out of his pocket and in his hand as soon as he stepped foot outside Boden's office hitting number one on his speed dial which he hadn't bothered to change even after he and Casey had split. The call went straight to voicemail however and Severide had to wonder if it was because Casey had declined his call or because he'd turned his phone off. If he was being honest, Severide didn't really like either option. He hung up without leaving a message and called back figuring that if Casey was ignoring his calls maybe he could annoy him into answering.

Six calls, three voicemails and an aimless wander of the house later and Severide still hadn't managed to get through to him and Shay had caught up with him.

"Casey?" she guessed as he stuffed in phone into his pocket, leaving his hand there just in case it rang.

He hummed a response and hoped that she wouldn't start reading too much into this.

"Dawson's worried too," she said and Severide gritted his teeth. He'd prefer she questioned his motives to talking about Dawson's.

"How bad was it?"

Shay shrugged. "I've seen firefighter's blow up worse. Hell Herrmann at Halloween was worse," she continued recalling the almost fight between Herrmann and the drunk kid. "Chief's doing the right thing. Giving him some time to cool off He's going to be fine."

Severide nodded but honestly, he wasn't too sure.

It should have been nice to be home with Hallie during the day, a rare occurrence with both their shift work. It felt like they'd hadn't seen each other properly in weeks. So it should have been nice to be with her but everything with Voight and Boden churning up inside him was making it kind of difficult.

He paced around the house with Hallie trailing after him the smile on her face when he'd walked through the door having long since disappeared.

"Why don't we just leave?" she asked. "We both have vacation time built up. We could even go longer, I'm sure they would give you a leave of absence."

The idea was so out of the realm of possibility that Casey made a frustrated noise under his breath and stalked into the kitchen.

"And when we get back? Voight will have forgotten all about it?"

"So we go where he can't find us and give the cops enough time to bust him. Come on, baby," she said approaching him slowly and slipping her hands up to cup his cheeks. Exhaustion weighed on him and his eyes closed, his cheeks leaning into her palms. "Let's get out of here. Let's regroup."

Her voice was syrupy sweet, caressing every exhausted cell of his body, tempting him into considering the idea and leave behind all the drama. Then the moment was broken by the firm knock on their door and Casey's eyes flew open. Not a few months ago he wouldn't have blinked twice but now he was overly aware of every place Voight could hit him or Hallie.

"Hold on," he muttered to her and went to open the door.

He pulled it open to find two grim uniformed police waiting for him.

"Matthew Casey?" the male asked.

"Yeah."

"We have a warrant to search your home," he continued gesturing slightly to the piece of paper his partner held.

"What?"

"We got a tip saying that you're in possession of cocaine." When Casey didn't say anything the officer continued, "Either we can search your house, or you can produce the cocaine and your cooperation will be taken into consideration."

"It's Voight," Casey said, partly to stall and partly because he knew it was true. "Detective Voight, he put you up to this?"

The police officer's lips pressed into a flat line. "No," he said after a noticeable pause. "I don't know any Voight."

But Casey wasn't stupid. He'd been a firefighter long enough to know that police protected their own. The whole Voight situation was proof enough of that.

"I just know we're coming in," he said when Casey didn't move.

Casey sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Theoretically he knew there was nothing to find in his place but it still felt like such an invasion to let them inside. Besides he wouldn't put it past Voight to have planted something. He just had to hope now that there wasn't anything to find or that Antonio would be able to explain anything they did find.

Casey stepped aside and let them through, accepting the warrant the female officer offered him as she passed. He lead them through to the kitchen, reading over the warrant as he went. Casey knew instantly something was up when he noticed that Hallie had taken off her jacket and put it onto the counter and if the way her fear-filled eyes kept flickering between it and him was any indication, it wasn't hiding anything good. He swallowed thickly but didn't flinch and didn't hesitate to join her, effectively blocking it from view.

The officer's didn't seem to notice anything was up. "The warrant allows us to search the entire house, and you're allowed, by law, to stay in the house if you remain cooperative."

Casey heart was beating wildly in his chest and he knew he had to get them out of his house before they started their search.

"I'm a firefighter," he said, attempting to reason with them. "Station 51. My fiancee is a doctor at Lakeshore. Do we really look like cocaine users to you?"

The police officers didn't even blink and Casey figured they'd heard it all before. "If you could please both go wait in the front room," the male said. Neither Casey nor Hallie budged though latter looked between the two men through unshed tears. "Now," he growled when they didn't move.

"Antonio Dawson." Casey changed tact. "He's a detective in vice. He'll tell you, we're being harassed by this cop. I have Antoni's number on my cell. Will you please just take a second and talk to him."

The male didn't budge and didn't look like he was going to any time soon but the female glanced at Hallie who looked about ready to burst into tears and her stony eyes softened fractionally.

"Please," Casey repeated.

The female officer glanced at her immoveable partner once before holding out her hand wordlessly. Casey thumbed through his contacts and handed the phone over. Thankfully Antonio answered almost immediately.

"Yeah, this is Officer Madden," she said quietly and took a step away. We have a search warrant for…" her voice trailed off as she walked further down the hall and Casey turned his attention to Hallie beside him. The other officer stalked around the kitchen but didn't say anything.

"It's alright, baby," he said slipping an arm around her waist and rubbing comforting circles into her back. "It's gonna be alright."

The female officer returned after only a few minutes and Casey was thankful. He almost didn't care what happened as long as he could escape the oppressive air of the kitchen.

"He says they're clean," she told her partner with a shrug and handed back the phone.

"If I ever have to come back here again," the man said obviously annoyed that they'd checked out. "No favour is going to get you out of it."

Casey felt himself tense but he bit back the retort building on his tongue, knowing it would only do more damage. He acquiesced with a wordless nod of his head and was saved answering any further by the sudden burst of chatter on their radios. They left without another word.

Casey and Hallie waited to hear the door close before they sprang apart, Hallie whipping her jacket out of the way to show Casey the brown package she'd stashed underneath it.

"It was under the table."

Casey felt his stomach dropped as he grabbed it and felt it's weight. He grabbed a nearby knife and split the packaging open, careful not to let any of it spill onto the counter.

"Oh my god," Hallie let out at the sight of the white powder.

"That's fifteen years right there," Casey noted, nodding at it.

"Call Antonio back," Hallie said immediately.

"Flush it down the toilet."

Hallie stared at him aghast, like she didn't even really know him. "Baby-"

"Flush it down the toilet," he repeated, voice rising slightly.

She didn't argue again and hurried from the room, opened package clutched tightly to her chest. He didn't wait to see her back, knowing she would only try and stop him and snatched up the keys he'd deposited nearby on the counter and jogged outside. The tyres of his truck screeched on the road as he sped away but he didn't slow. If he thought about it too much he might not go through with it and he was through living his life in fear.

The trip to Voight's house was short and he knew the way because he'd called in a favour to find out just in case he ever needed it.

He debated kicking down the door when he got there but figured that would draw more attention than it was worth and instead tapped insistently at the glass pane set into his door. His fist flew out the moment Voight answered the door, putting the man on the floor before he knew what was happening. It almost didn't feel like Casey was the one doing it, more like he was a third party observer, watching someone who looked an awful lot like himself do all these things.

He delivered another swift punch to Voight's gut when he attempted to scramble upright, putting him back down and keeping him there, winded. Casey huffed out an agitated breath and shook his now throbbing hand.

"You just committed a couple felonies," Voight gasped and looked up at Casey unflinchingly.

Casey shrugged. "I'm ready to commit a few more."

He didn't know if he really meant that. With his heart pounding in his ears and his stomach up in his throat it was hard to think at all.

"I'm telling you," he said, pointing at the detective. "It ends now, or you're the one that's gonna disappear.

Voight's hand which, unbeknownst to Casey had been inching towards his ankle suddenly withdrew a small gun from a holster there and pointed it at him. Casey's breath stuttered in his chest then stopped altogether when Voight clicked a bullet into place.

"I can respect that," Voight allowed. They were quiet for a few long moments where all either of them could do was stare at each other. Then Voight was dropping the gun to the floor and sliding it across to him. It bumped into his foot gently and Casey's gaze dropped. He blinked at it sluggishly and a small voice at the back of his brain piped up, You're father was shot. He'd never looked at guns the same way since. Casey looked at Voight uncomprehendingly.

"Go ahead," Voight said pulling himself up onto his elbows. "Use it," he dared and unwillingly Casey's eyes dropped to the gun again. "You retract that statement against my son. Or you pull that trigger. Because that's the only thing that's gonna stop me."

He stared down at the gun for another long moment then looked to the photographs around the room. Voight with his son stared back at him from countless frames and he remembered with a painful vividity how he'd felt when he'd heard his own father had been shot. He might not be willing to retract his statement because somewhere out there was another young son stuck in a wheelchair but he also wasn't going to shoot Voight just for doing what he thought was right for his son. He kicked the gun back to Voight with a small sound of objection and stepped back.

Voight didn't retrieve the gun but merely watched as Casey turned on his heel and walked from the house, leaving the door wide open behind him. He hurried to his car, dragging in deep gulps of breath into his unresponsive chest. He clutched at the steering wheel and a small familiar voice whispered in his ear, Don't do anything stupid. Voight's not worth that.

And indeed he wasn't. Casey took one more deep breath before turning the key in the ignition and drove off before he could anything else stupid.

The shift wound down with a small house fire in the afternoon with Severide praying for a quiet night because the relief lieutenant they'd lumped with Truck 81 was beyond useless. Severide was truly beginning to wonder if a couple of favours hadn't been called in to help the guy pass his lieutenant's exam.

He was half-heartedly playing cards with his squad, not too bothered by his average hand and just considering going to bed when Tony stood, dumping his cards.

"I'm hitting the rack, boys," he said and wandered off without listening to Hadley's response.

"Yeah," Hadley laughed. "'Cause you're getting buried."

Movement in the shadows outside the house caught Severide's eye the same time as Hadley because they both watched as Casey exited his truck and took the side entrance into the house.

"Uh-oh," Hadley muttered, watching him go.

But Severide grinned. "No, all good. That's an 'I'm with the program' kind of walk," he explained at Hadley's confusion. He waited a moment before flicking his own cards towards the centre and stood to stretch. "I think I'm going to turn in too," he said and ignored the knowing gleam in Hadley's eyes.

He made his was back to his quarters, calling goodnight to Shay as he passed her and sprawled out at his desk, reviewing the afternoon fire report a final time before he submitted it the next morning. He was still there, contemplating his bed when Casey wandered in ten minutes later still dressed in casual clothing.

He flopped down on Severide's bed and something inside him twinged at how, right, Casey looked spread across the end of the bed, legs overhanging it.

Severide cleared his throat. "I'm guessing you got your act together then."

"Yeah," Casey said quietly. Then, "Sorry for not calling you back, I just had to…-"

"I get it," Severide said, saving him from coming up with the right words. "All good, man." He waited for a beat but Casey didn't speak. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah," he said quietly but he didn't elaborate. Instead he looked pointedly at the open door and Severide got the memo. He rolled forward far enough and kicked it shut, doing so with a small clatter. Then he rolled back so he could see Casey's face again and simply waited.

So Casey told him all about the cops coming to his place and the cocaine Hallie had found tapped under the table and how close it had all been.

"Shit, he was in your place."

"I mean, I guess," Casey said, watching the ceiling shrewdly. "It wasn't mine."

"Well no shit," Severide retorted and for a brief moment he amused himself entertaining the image of Casey as a cocaine user. He snorted quietly.

"So what did you do?"

"Flushed it," Casey said quietly.

"Shit."

Casey's head rolled to the side and his piercing blue eyes trapped Severide in their gaze. "What would you have done?" There was none of the defensiveness in his voice that any other person would have had but Severide knew Casey well enough to know he was questioning his actions.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. On one hand Casey could have called Antonio but he also knew there was the risk that he wouldn't have been able to get them out of it or there was flushing the drugs, definitely the more illegal option but with it's own perks. "I don't know," he repeated.

"Yeah," Casey sighed and looked back to the ceiling.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Severide asked suddenly and Casey looked at him in surprise. "Somewhere Voight doesn't know about. Because you can come back and stay at our- mine and Shay's," he offered, catching himself in time. "You and Hallie, until this whole thing is sorted out." Noting Casey's surprise he hurried on. "I know there isn't a whole lot of room but you're welcome there and it'd probably be safer. Besides we miss you there."

Casey pulled himself up onto an elbow and looked at him with wide, unguarded eyes. Severide realised his mistake a second too late.

"I mean Shay's always complaining that she actually has to do housework now," he said with a forced laugh.

Casey chuckled quietly and dropped back down to lie flat. "Figures you two would miss my manual labour." His voice sounded as weird as Severide's faked laughter but neither commented on it.

"Yeah."

"I'll get back to you about staying. I'll give Antonio a couple more days to figure something out but if he can't… well if you're still cool with it, I might take you up on that."

"Whenever Casey. You're- you two are always welcome." A long silence followed his words, then to change the subject more than anything else, Severide asked, "So what did you do after you found the drugs?"

Casey's lips thinned momentarily and Severide stiffened in anticipation. "Went to Voight and punched him."

"Fuck. You didn't." But Severide was grinning because finally the man had gotten what he'd deserved.

Casey felt his own grin pulling at his lips and before he knew it they were both grinning broadly.

"Fuck," Severide said again and shook his head. "He going to press charges?"

"No, I don't think so. I think he was more embarrassed that I got the drop on him."

"Yeah, scrawny thing like you? That's gotta be embarrassing," Severide teased and Casey kicked out at him but missed abysmally.

Casey suddenly sobered and Severide didn't have the chance to question the abrupt change because he said, "He gave me a gun and told me to shoot him because that was the only way he'd stop."

"And you walked away right?"

Casey blinked at the confidence. "How can you be so sure. After everything he's done, how can you be so sure I wouldn't do it."

Severide shrugged. "Because I know you. And I know that you always do the right thing."

The memory of the coffee shop that morning tugged at him and all of a sudden he knew what to say to Casey.

"Is Hallie going to the deposition with you tomorrow?"

Casey frowned at the abrupt subject changed but answer nonetheless, "No, she's got a shift. Why?"

Severide didn't answer. "She asked me to have coffee with her this morning. Wanted to talk about it," he added when Casey raised an eyebrow.

The blonde sat up so fast that it made Severide dizzy just watching him. Casey kept his eyes firmly locked on the blind covered windows in front of him.

"She did, did she?" he asked hollowly.

"Yeah, wanted me to convince you not to do it."

Casey sounded angry when he replied. "So is that what you're saying. That I should forget about that kid in the wheelchair, forget about everything Voight's done and just give in."

Severide remained calm however and didn't rise to the bait. He also didn't mention how Hallie thought he was doing it merely for pride, that wouldn't help at this point. "No," he said calmly but firmly. "I'm not saying that because it's not what I would do. And I know it's not what you're going to do."

"So what are you saying," Casey said and looked around at him.

"I'm saying… do you want some company?"

Long time no see Nerdlets. Well I made it through exams... barely and so here we are with a new chapter for you guys. I've done some thinking and outlining and by my rough count there's about 13 more chapters after this one (and yes Sevasey will be a thing by the end of those 13 chapters). It might end up less depending on if I write any uneventful episode's in one chapter.

I've been thinking about my lovely, loyal readers and I'm wondering what episode is you're guys' favourite? Personally I love the entire first season but my all time fave ep is probably 1x19 A coffin that small. It's a sad one but I think the acting is absolutely superb in it.

Hope you enjoy the chapter, let me know what you thought and shoot me a comment telling me what you're favourite ep is :)