A week passed and slowly, slowly the house recovered from the loss and the gap that had once been filled by Jose Vargas healed over. Christmas was creeping closer, giving them all something else to think about and Vargas seemed to be doing better every time someone turned up for the new shift with news from him.
Severide found himself spending more and more time with Royce and Casey equally. Royce because she was easy to be with, great company that sometimes ended in fun, casual sex, after which things never got awkward. And Casey… well Severide was a masochist and couldn't help himself. Something he was painfully aware of as he watched Casey vault into the cab of is truck and go roaring off to a fire.
The woman who lived in the flashy house Truck 81 were called to was ready with the story by the time they got there. Seeing them arriving she came rushing over, mindless of the hand covered by the burnt teatowel.
"I was deep-frying eggplant," she explained, gasping. "I turned my back for a minute and then there were flames everywhere. I tried to beat it out with a towel," she said, gesturing helplessly to the tea towel in her hands and Casey caught a glimpse of blistered skin.
"Let those two take care of that hand," he said, nodding at first it, then at Dawson and Shay who had appeared beside him. From what he'd seen, it didn't look too bad but would need some basic medical attention.
Casey left the woman in Dawson, Shay, and Boden's capable hands and joined his men as they strode into the house and directly into the kitchen where a smoke detector was beeping shrilly and a small flame was burning on the counter and stove top.
"Would someone turn off that smoke detector?" Herrmann grimaced, shooting a disdainful look at the offending object.
While Otis climbed on a chair to get to it the rest of the company converged on the small fire with their extinguishers and within a minute the fire was out and the smoke detector was off.
"Alright," Casey said. "Let's do a quick walkthrough, open some windows, get this place vented."
As they walked through the lavish house, opening doors and windows as they went it was clear just how rich the owners were, with the artworks and sculptures dotting the walls and decorating end tables.
"Holy moly," Mouch gaped as he turned in a slow circle. "These must be the 1% I keep hearing about."
"Oh!" At Oti's surprised exclamation they all came running, Casey included, faces appearing from over the staircase banister to peer down at him. "You guys! This priceless piece of artwork has been destroyed." Otis gestured to the large artwork on the wall in front of him forlornly before spying a nearby brochure and holding it up for them to see. "Oh wait. Never mind. It's supposed to look like that."
The company chuckled and went about their work, levering open windows to let the smoke billow out and checking that the fire hadn't done anything more than surface damage before finally they could back outside and into the fresh air.
While his men headed straight for their truck, Casey headed over to the woman who'd just finished getting her hand bandaged by the ambo girls.
"You'll probably need a new countertop," he said. "But everything else is okay."
The woman's face crumpled in relief before she surged forward placing a soft kiss to Casey's cheek. "Oh my god, thank you. Thank you so much."
The woman was rushing off back inside before Casey could respond and then his radio was crackling at his chest.
"Truck 81," came the voice of a dispatch officer. "Are you available to assist at a pin-in accident?"
"Truck 81 responding," Casey responded, after getting the confirming nod from Boden. "Pack her up," he called to his dawdling company. "We got another call."
As they pulled away, tires screeching and sirens screaming they had no way of knowing the mess they'd left behind.
There was no more ominous a sign, Casey decided, then coming back to the house to find Kelly Severide out of his beloved chair at the squad table and standing in the driveway waiting for you. He didn't so much as flinch back as the truck passed him by and rolled to a stop in it's usual spot. Severide only pushed away from the garage door track he'd been leaning against when Casey jumped down and started pulling of his turnout gear. Casey caught a glimpse of his apologetic face and felt his stomach dip.
"What?"
Severide didn't offer up any verbal response but just nodded at the driveway where Casey hadn't noticed a group of men standing a little way away, a familiar head of ginger hair among them. White-hot anger flared inside him and almost instinctively Casey took a step forward, putting him chest to chest with Severide who had anticipated his reaction and had stepped between him and the group. When Casey looked, he saw a familiar anger reflected there but he knew Severide wouldn't budge, he had too much too lose this time.
"Matthew Casey." The voice was exactly the same and it could have been 12 years ago again for all Casey knew. Severide's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly then he stepped to the side and turned to face the approaching man alongside his friend, backed up by the rest of the house Casey and Severide could feel congregating behind them. "How about that."
Casey wanted to break the hand that was offered to him but he restrained himself at the gentle brush of Severide's hand against his own. He didn't bother with courtesy though, either. "What are you doing here, Griffin?"
"I'm with Internal Affairs Division now," Griffin said, fingers fiddling briefly with the badge pinned to his chest and that explained the dress shirt and tie that he was sporting. Casey couldn't say he was surprised and judging by the quiet snort he heard from Severide neither was his friend. Even in the academy Griffin had been all talk with nothing to back it up.
"What's I.A.D doing here?" Casey heard Herrmann demand from behind him.
"C.P.D too," Otis added, no doubt noticing the two detectives who'd come up to flank Griffin.
Boden joined the fray and Casey immediately deferred to him on the matter. "What the hell's going on?" His tone was tired not angry and Casey felt Severide relax incrementally beside him. A fleeting urge inside him wanted to grab Severide's hand with his own to reassure them both but it was gone before he had time to analyse it and Casey focussed again.
"The woman on Green Street said somebody walked off with her diamond necklace."
As expected his company weren't pleased to hear that and neither was Casey.
"This is a joke, right?" he gritted out.
"No joke, Lieutenant," Griffin said and Casey had to admit he felt a savage sort of pleasure at hearing the title come out of Griffin's mouth. Judging by the look on Griffin's face the word tasted like poison in his mouth.
"My men aren't thieves," Casey said.
"All the same, we're talking about a $50 000 piece of jewelry," one of the detectives put in.
"That's a class 2 felony."
"Casey," Boden cut in. "The police just need to take statement from you and the men."
"And," Griffin continued, brandishing a stack of forms suddenly in his hand. "I'm going to need you to fill out this form too. Basic stuff, where you worked in the fire, who you worked with, if you saw the missing item, or anything else at all suspicious."
Griffin moved about passing out the forms and Casey seethed, flipping the suspenders from his shoulders irritably and pushed down the turnout pants to pool at his feet. He straightened just in time to avoid having a form thrust under his nose. Casey took the form without a word and Griffin stalked off with his two detective minions close at his heels.
Boden didn't look surprised when Casey turned immediately to him. "Can I have a minute?" And they were similarly unsurprised when Severide followed them to the nearest conference room.
"I know what you're going to say-" Boden began.
"On my best day, I'd have to fight the urge to choke that guy out," Casey practically spat, eyes scanning over the form that was beginning to crumple in his fist. Apparently sensing that he was about to start ripping it to shreds, Severide rescued the form from his friend's grasp and looked at it himself. "Today's not my best day."
"The possible theft of a $50 000 necklace supersedes any concerns about your personal feelings toward Ted Griffin," Boden recited, sounding like he was doing damage control at a press conference rather than talking to his two lieutenants.
Casey made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and Severide's hand twitched with the urge to cup the back of his friend's neck and rub away the knots of stress he knew he carried. The hand balled into a fist instead and he leaned away and against a nearby table as if distance would stop him from doing anything stupid.
"Chief, you know as well as I do, none of my men took that necklace."
"I hope not," was all Boden said. "Because I don't want to see any of them lose their job and face criminal charges. And," he continued, when it looked like both Casey and Severide were going to cut in. "I don't want to see their lieutenant get a black mark on his record, so let's just play this one by the book."
Casey sighed and looked inclined to argue further but after trading a look with Severide who shrugged, he nodded his defeat. Boden nodded to them both, an odd knowing look in his eyes that worried Severide before leaving them to it.
"There's nothing to find," Severide said after a moment. "So don't worry about it."
Casey merely nodded his head with pursed lips and Severide knew instantly that his friend wouldn't relax; there was someone he didn't like on his turf and investigating his company. His phone buzzed insistently in his pocket before he could reassure Casey any further and he pulled it out on instinct to check it. Royce. He pushed it back into his pocket without reading the message and looked up to find Casey watching him carefully, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Hot date?" he finally asked and the words should have been a joke but the tone was all wrong. Casey pushed away from the table and headed for the door without another word.
Severide watched him go, biting his lip. "Something like that."
The text was short, sweet and haunting Severide. His phone was burning against his leg where it sat in his pocket and he resisted the urge to pull it out and re-read the now memorised words.
Royce: Wanna get dinner tomorrow night? I was thinking italian?
It wasn't the first time they'd gotten together since that first time but it felt different somehow now that Casey knew about it. He rubbed a hand over tired eyes. Royce was supposed to be a distraction not another complication to his already over-complicated life. His shoulder twinged painfully and he rubbed at it absently as he leant back in his chair and tuned back into the conversation going on around him.
Mills was complaining about the woman with the $50 000 necklace and Mouch was defending her half-heartedly by regaling them with a story about Pat "the pinch" Osbourne that they'd all heard before, exempting Mills.
"The roof could be caving in on us, and Pat would take a moment to, 'rescue' the silverware."
"So what's the deal with the lieutenant and the guy from I.A.D?"
The group shifted uncomfortably and traded looks except for Mills who was waiting expectantly. More than a few looks were sent Severide's way which he resolutely ignored.
"Bad history," Herrmann finally said. "They all went through the academy together," he continued with a glance at Severide. "And there was an incident."
"What kind of incident?"
"The kind that ends with Griffin getting his face punched in," Severide growled, never taking his eyes of his phone.
Mills' shock was practically palpable. "Wait, why did the Lieutenant hit him?"
"He was talking trash about Casey's family," Mouch said. At the venomous look Severide sent his way he snapped his mouth shut. "But see, we don't talk about that."
"And the little weasel," Herrmann started with a growl. "Had a problem with certain other things…" he trailed off, shooting Severide a glance.
Mills looked totally lost by now and Severide, with a resigned sigh, took pity on him.
"Griffin had a problem with the fact that Casey is into guys as well as girls and wouldn't hide it."
Mills blinked. "Oh. I hadn't realised-"
"Because it's his business and no one else's," Severide snapped but sighed again when Mills sat there looking like a kicked puppy. "Look, Casey's not in the closet but he's also not the type to go yelling it from the rooftops."
"Right, got it."
Otis who had been sitting involved in his ipad and ignoring the conversation going around him suddenly shot up straight. "Whoa, whoa, guys, here we go." Then spying Casey who was coming in for a cup of coffee spun around in his chair. "Hey Lieutenant, check this out. The people with all the artwork, Sandra and Richard Vaughan? They're selling their entire art collection at auction."
"I already finished my Christmas shopping," Casey replied without missing a beat, earning him a few sniggers while he turned his focus back on the coffee machine.
"No, think about it," Otis whined. "You don't sell your art collection. Your children sell your art collection after you die. Or you sell it if you need the money."
Apparently over the tutorial on art collections, Casey sighed. "Otis, I have things to do."
"The diamond necklace, it's an insurance scam," Otis, said finally getting to the point. The sudden declaration earnt him most of the room's attention, Herrmann, Mills, and Mouch sitting up to pay attention and even Severide put down his phone.
Casey however remained unconvinced. "So this woman nearly burned down her home in some elaborate scheme to get firefighters in there so she could accuse them of stealing a necklace?" And when he said it like that, it did sound pretty unlikely.
"No, she didn't set the fire. But when it happened, she saw an opportunity to cash in."
"Yeah," Casey said slowly and Severide grinned knowing that tone. "You should write that down." He left without another word, steaming coffee in hand.
"Okay," Otis said petulantly to his retreating back. "I will."
Another one of Herrmann's countless business ventures made itself known in the form of a long limo parked in the driveway of the station, with Severide waist deep in the engine checking it out while Herrmann tried to talk down the price with the owner. A small group gathered around to watch the most interesting thing going while Casey leaned against the front of the car, watching Severide work. He knew as much about mechanics as Severide knew about construction but standing there watching the other lieutenant work brought back memories of summer days spent at the dock, burning red in the sun while Severide worked.
"Going to the prom, Herrmann," Dawson teased, strolling up alongside Shay just as Herrmann was waving goodbye to the now former owner of the limo.
"This the the flagship for Caesar Limousines. Your chariot awaits, ma'am." He gestured proudly to the shiny black paint of the car before attempting to tug open one of the doors. It stuck and eventually he gave up, leaning against it instead with a proud grin. "This guy," Herrmann explained, gesturing to the retreating back of the owner. "He's liquidating his company. Now I can only afford one vehicle to start, but I figure I roll the profits of this one into the next, and then the next, and before you know it, I'll have a whole fleet. Airport runs, weddings, prom season."
None of them were entirely convinced by his confidence however, having seen on multiple occasions Herrmann's bad luck is business ventures.
"Really, Herrmann," Otis sighed, tugging at the stuck door before finally yanking it open with an ugly grinding sound.
But Herrmann wasn't deterred and rounded the car to the hood to clap a hand to the shoulder of Severide. "I was smart enough to bring my own mechanic to the negotiations. Severide got the guy to knock $1,500 off the price."
"You're going to have to spend some of that money to fix this charing issue," Severide reminded him, finally withdrawing from underneath the hood and took the rag Casey offered him for his grease coated fingers with a smile. "And you're definitely going to need a new timing belt."
Herrmann's smile dimmed a fraction but his eyes were still bright with excitement that made the whole house worry. Severide and Casey left him to it and headed inside, Severide still wiping fruitlessly at his hands and Casey following with his jacket and laughing at his attempts. Severide was just beginning to think he might need a shower instead when Casey swiped a finger across his cheekbone and held up the now grease blackened digit.
"You're such a grease monkey," he said, laughing fondly, catching Severide's eye in a heavy look, jolting them both with memories. It wasn't so long ago that he had been calling Severide a 'sexy grease monkey' whenever he walked in the door after a long day of restoring boats or under the hood of the comaro, when he would have hauled Severide closer by the belt and gotten themselves so thoroughly covered in grease just to have an excuse to shower together. Fire pooled in his stomach and he didn't know if he was glad or not that Shay suddenly appeared and he was forced to look away.
She looked anxious about something and was not so subtly throwing out hints that she wanted to talk to Severide alone so he handed off his jacket and escaped back to his quarters where he could freak out in private.
It wasn't the attraction that had him pacing around his quarters like a caged animal. That he could deal with; it was logical that there would be lingering physical attraction, it made sense. It was the rush of fond memories that freaked Casey out because he was over it, he was meant to be over it. And he definitely shouldn't be feeling a longing ache for the return of those times. Casey flopped onto his bed with a groan and decided that if he didn't know what it was meant, maybe it was just better not to think about it at all.
Severide could feel the ghost of Casey's fingertips against his cheek and was torn between running his fingers over the spot again and concentrating on Shay who was freaking out beside him as they paced along a deserted corridor of the station. She'd explained in a tense whisper how Boden had dragged her and Dawson into his office to talk about the vials of painkillers Shay had swiped from the ambo rig to give to him. Apparently now, of all times, the paramedics from the other shift were coming forward.
"I thought I replaced every vial I gave you," she was saying, voice low and worried. "But I must have lost count."
Voices from up ahead drifted towards them and as if on cue they both slowed to a halt. This was bad, and Severide knew it; it wasn't just him anymore that would get into trouble if it all came out, he'd gone and dragged Shay into it. As if triggered by the conversation his shoulder twinged and he reached up instinctively to knead at the spasming muscle.
"How can they bust you for something that somebody said happened a month ago? It's their word against yours."
"Yeah and if it were my ass on the line, I'd put up a fight. But Dawson's the P.I.C. and she's the one who's going to cop it."
Severide frowned, thinking hard. Problem was, there wasn't a lot he could do, bar coming right out and owning up to what had happened and that would still get Shay into trouble. Finally he shrugged apologetically. "I don't know what to tell you."
Shay's face abruptly closed off, eyes narrowing and lips thinning and when she spoke her voice was dangerously blank. "No, you're right. It's not your problem. You got what you needed." And she was walking away before he could say another word, leaving him with an aching shoulder and crushed with the knowledge he'd disappointed her all over again.
Casey would never say he was grateful for a call coming in but he would be lying if he said that they didn't save him from his problems sometimes. Which was why he was feeling a little calmer about the whole Severide thing by the time they pulled back into the driveway after a call out to Humboldt Park. That was until Dawson abruptly dropped into the seat beside him with an endearingly hopeful smile on her face.
"Quick question," she said, as he looked up from the newspaper he was reading with his soup. "Saturday, what are you doing?"
"Depends," he said carefully. "What have you got?"
"My cousin, the poster child for Better Homes and Gardens, throws this super-fancy Christmas party every year: string quartet, plum pudding, nutmeg sprinkled on the eggnog. It's so perfect you want to vomit."
Dawson fell silent and Casey wasn't quite sure what he was meant to respond to that with. "Sound awesome," he aid finally, half sarcastic, half serious. "And you need a friend to bring along?" he asked, although he got the feeling it was a bit more serious than that if the sight of Shay sitting nearby, eyes unmoving on an upside down magazine was anything to go by.
Dawson's smile became fixed for a moment before she nodded. "Yeah, and I was wondering, if you have the night free, that is, if you wanted to come."
Things had been over with Hallie for a while and Casey hadn't been out be it romantic or platonic with someone who wasn't Severide since and he figured what the hell; it didn't have to be a date for him to have a good night. "Sure," he said easily. "What time should I pick you up?"
"Seven o'clock?"
"Sounds good."
Dawson stood with another smile and hurried off, leaving Casey to get back to his food and news.
The peace around the house didn't last long however and soon enough the entire company were being hauled to the locker room to watch their belongings get turned inside out.
"Chief, are you just going to let these pretend cops violate our civil rights?" Herrmann grumbled as they filed in.
Griffin's two CPD escorts each bristled but the red-head's nose never left the air.
"Yeah, don't they need to show us a warrant or something," Otis added.
Boden's response was tired but patient. "They are well within their authority to search firehouse property."
"Even our personal lockers," Mills protested.
"You mean the department's lockers," Griffin sniffed. "Besides, it shouldn't bother you if you're not hiding anything."
Casey sighed and decided to step in. "Griffin, can I have a moment with you?"
Griffin sighed heavily as though Casey was asking for the world before acquiescing with a nod. Boden met Casey's eyes over his head, a confirmation that he was all right before herding the others into the locker room, leaving Griffin and Casey in the sleeping quarters alone.
"What?" Griffin asked when the last firefighter had disappeared through the doorway. "You want to punch me again?"
Casey ignored the question. "When's the last time I.A.D. searched an entire house?"
Griffin scoffed and stalked closer. "A firefighter stole a $50 000 necklace, and it's my job to find out who. But don't blame me if you suddenly regret assaulting a fellow classmate."
It was Casey's turn to scoff. "Regret it? I'm glad I did it. You weren't the first idiot to make a crack about my family or my sexuality. You were the last though. No one's brought it up again since I laid your ass out." He'd edged forward until he and Griffin were standing toe to toe and Casey flashed back to Academy days of going head to head with Griffin. As he'd said, Griffin certainly hadn't been the first to find out the truth of Casey's personal life but he'd been the most insistent and vocal, a dog with a proverbial bone.
"Sucker-punched," Griffin interjected, practically spitting the words.
"You saw it coming."
"The only ones who saw it were your buddies. None of whom had the integrity to say what really happened."
As if summoned by Griffin's voice, Severide appeared in the doorway to the locker room, leaning against it to listen to them. Casey's eyes flickered to Severide's form before sliding back to Griffin, just in time to hear his next, cutting words.
"By the way how is your mum?"
Casey's shock meant that Griffin got a couple of steps away before he came to his senses and the pure rage splitting open Severide's face distracted him for another moment meaning that Griffin was almost in the locker room when Casey strode after him, entertaining the image of grabbing him by the back of his stupidly pristine shirt and shoving him against the unforgiving metal of the lockers. But before he could so much as lay a finger on the smirking man, another body was between them, warm palms sliding against his chest to push him back gently and a low voice murmuring.
"Just walk away, Matt. Step back and let it go. Come on, that's it."
Griffin was laughing and saying, "Casey blood sure runs hot, don't it?" and Boden was barking at him and the rest of the men were muttering unhappily under their breaths, all of it overwhelming Casey, which was the only reason he allowed Severide to push him back a few steps, then a few more until he was entering the familiar air of his personal quarters. Severide spoke to him quietly the whole time - not that Casey heard him all that much - eyes dark with fury but voice reassuringly calm. Casey stalked back and forth in the small space, panting breaths and fury like a roar in his ears, Severide's voice still washing over him, words indistinguishable but calming nonetheless.
"Casey, babe, just breathe. Calm down and let it go. He's not worth it."
He paced back and forth until he finally got over the urge to kick something, Severide watching him the entire time, and abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed, forearms braced on his knees and head hanging while his breathing slowed. A warm hand settled over the back of his neck, familiar callouses rough against his skin and thumb stroking along his hairline in an even rhythm that Casey found himself breathing in time to.
He finally spoke after a long moment and his voice was ragged. "I hate that I still feel so defensive over her."
"She's your mum," Severide said.
"Yeah," Casey choked out. "But what she did-"
"She's still your mum and you're allowed to defend her against assholes," Severide said firmly. He slowly levered Casey's form upright and pulled him into his chest. And Casey went easily because while he didn't know what was going on between them, he did know that he needed this.
Casey didn't get a chance to analyse it however because all too soon the bells were going off and Severide was sighing even as he let his arms fall away. Casey left to the sound of Griffin complaining that they were supposed to have been taken out of service and a warmth lingering on his skin.
By the time Truck 81 rolled up to the scene Boden had been briefed by local police and was ready to take charge.
"We've got possible gang members inside," he explained as Casey dropped from the truck. "I count six mailboxes and the fire has reached the structure."
Casey knew how to read between the lines and understood. They would have to move fast to get everyone out, but also carefully because guns could be going off everywhere. Casey turned to his men.
"Mouch, Otis on the aerial, get ready to vent the roof. Herrmann, Mills, Cruz, with me inside."
Though they hadn't been part of the initial call, Boden must have called out Severide because Squad 3 pulled up just as 81 was about to go inside. Casey caught Severide's eye just as he approached the door and stumbled slightly at the panic in Severide's eyes. He knew it was a bad call but there was something about that look that reminded him of when they used to be together. Casey shook his head to clear it, knowing that he couldn't be unfocused on a call; he owed himself and his men better.
The sound of gunshots was enough to focus him again and he hauled Herrmann down from where he'd been working on the heavy front door. He and his men crouched behind the iron fence while everyone else scrambled for cover behind the big fire trucks; theirs wasn't the best cover but it was better than standing out in the open.
Then Boden's voice came out loud and clear over one of the engine's P.A system. "This is the Chicago Fire Department! Lay down your weapons! We are trying to help you!"
Cruz edged closer to the door while Casey bit out a curse and tried to free up a hand to haul him back. Cruz continued, undeterred.
"We're not the police! You're going to die if you stay in there! Let us help you!"
When no noise or gunshots followed his words, he crept around the fence and approached the door, mindless of the yells of his company and lieutenant.
Casey gritted his teeth at the sight of his man disappearing into the smoke but he wasn't going to disobey Boden's orders and go after him no matter how much he wanted to. Not even a minute crawled past when a young guy came flying out of the apartment block, gun in hand and went running around the corner. Herrmann growled something uncomplimentary under his breath and ran after him, tackling the kid to the ground with the help of another officer.
While the officers hauled him away, Cruz appeared back out of the smoke, mask now in place, announcing that they were good to go in. Casey fought the urge to reprimand him then and there and sent him back in with Mills while Herrmann stalked back over.
"Herrmann, you okay?"
"I'm gonna crack one of those punks upside their heads," he growled and took a step towards the house only to be pushed back by Casey's hand to his chest.
"Nope," he said simply, reading the agitation in his friend's face. "You're going to sit this one out." He turned to find Severide geared up and standing nearby. "Severide?"
There was too much going on between them but in that moment it all melted away as Severide nodded. "Got your back."
The first floor was clear and they were on their way to the second when Boden's voice came crackling through the radio, "We've got a woman and a kid on the second floor. Front, center."
"On it, Chief," Casey reported back as he and Severide headed that way.
Severide took the door down easily with a shove of his shoulder and they made their way into the dim room. The apartment was small and they found the mother and her son in no time, huddled under a window. Casey didn't think they were too badly hurt but the woman clutched at his jacket when he tried to help her up.
"My little one," she said, voice high with desperation. "I don't know where he is." Her face was shiny with sweat and streaked with black as he peered down at her.
"Severide'll find him," he promised her and the other lieutenant took off. "But we need to go."
He expected the resistance, while it was human nature to run to save themselves, it went completely against a mother's instincts to leave one of her babies behind. But Casey had experience in this department, something they trained for specifically in the academy and only felt a small pang of guilt dragging her out of the room, the woman screaming her son's name all the while.
He wasn't having much luck however, dealing with the deceptively strong mother while also keeping a hand on his halligan and the other son. Luckily, Severide found the youngest, Marco on the other side of the apartment and once he was in sight, the mother let up and let them guide her and her children outside. They stumbled down the stairs and passed the kids off to paramedics before pulling their masks off.
"What have we got?" Boden asked once they'd gotten their breath back.
"First and second floor are clear," Severide relayed.
"Cruz and Mills are on third," Casey added.
"All right," Boden nodded. "Hold back until they check in."
They didn't have to wait long because Mills appeared on the threshold in the next minute, toting a guy with a leg injury.
"Mills," Casey barked. "Where's Cruz?"
"Still up there," he replied as he passed.
Before Casey could make a decision about what to do, Cruz's voice was coming through the radio. "This is Cruz on three. All clear and headed up to four now."
Casey cursed again and clicked on his radio. "Cruz, wait for me, I'm on my way." He quickly pulled on his mask, snatched his halligan back up and dashed back into the smoky hallway. His thighs burned and sweat trickled down his back as he took the steps two at a time.
He was almost to the fourth floor when he heard Cruz's voice. "This is Cruz up top. All clear and heading down."
Despite the footsteps Casey could hear signalling Cruz's approach, he waited until his man was in sight to turn and make his own way back down. They moved fast through the quickly weakening structure and got out so the engine boys could get the water cannons on the fire. Overhaul was a long and arduous task, made even worse by the body they found on the fourth floor and the sky was beginning to darken by the time they got back to the house.
Otis cornered Casey after dinner as he was heading back to his office to get in some paperwork before he went to bed.
"You're not going to believe this," he said, falling into step with his lieutenant. "So I ordered a background check on Sandra and Richard Vaughan-"
"Otis-" Casey sighed.
"And they are leveraged up to their eyeballs. It's one judgment after the next. They're staving off bankruptcy. They're in financial ruin. And Mr. Vaughan was investigated twice for wire fraud."
Casey took the papers Otis had been waving around wildly with a frown and looked over the bank records, and news articles Otis' P.I. had compiled.
"236 subscribers are going to hear about this in my next podcast," Otis said.
But Casey barely heard him because everything had just clicked into place. He turned on his heel and doubled back the way he'd come, leaving Otis and heading back to the kitchen where Griffin was exactly where he'd been hoping he was.
"Lieutenant Casey," Griffin sneered and as always Casey felt a stab of savage pleasure at hearing the title come from his mouth. "Four hour call, huh? That was pretty convenient."
Casey resisted the urge to dump the coffee in Griffin's hand over his head and shoved the papers he'd taken from Otis as his chest instead.
"It's insurance fraud," he said simply. "The woman with the diamonds? They're broke."
Griffin set the papers aside without looking at them. "What do you do off-shift? Drive around in a van solving mysteries?"
Casey rolled his eyes and strode from the room, heading back to his office. If Griffin didn't want to believe him, that was his problem but those diamonds weren't going to turn up anywhere in his house. He knew that much.
He barely had a minute to relax in his office however because Griffin was rapping smartly on the door. Casey would have much rather let the blind downs to block Griffin's face but knowing the action would be futile he got up to let him in instead.
"You're up."
"What is it you're hoping for, Griffin?"
Griffin ignored him. "Toss the room and search him."
One of the cops immediately started looking under his mattress while the other patted him down in brisk, efficient brushes.
"Seriously?" he asked because how stupid would he have to be to keep the necklace on him, if he had stolen it in the first place.
Finally the officer stepped away with a gruff "he's clean" and Casey held his hands up with a patronising smile. He stepped towards the door. "It's all yours."
The three of them turned to the room while Casey wavered at the door. He wouldn't put it past Griffin to plant something in there or mess with his things some other way but eventually he left, knowing that by staying he was only increasing the odds of punches being thrown.
With all the inappropriate thoughts he'd been having about Severide lately it probably wasn't good that he went straight from his office to Severide's. But it was the only place he wanted to be - another thought he refused to analyse - so he pushed open the door and collapsed on the bed with a groan.
Severide's chuckle was low and husky. "Comfortable?"
Casey's response was an unintelligible grunt.
The desk chair creaked as Severide shifted and Casey just knew that he was looking through the windows into his own quarters. Wisely though he chose not to comment. What he said however might of been infinitely worse.
"So, a date with Dawson, huh?"
Casey groaned again, rolling to smother his face into the pillow. "It's not a date," he grunted, voice muffled by the fabric in his mouth and he heard Severide chuckle again. "How did you know anyway?"
"House is buzzing with it."
Casey muttered lowly, "Fuck." As much as the house was a home to Casey, he would willingly admit that when not on a call there was only three things to do: eat, watch television and gossip, sometimes done all at once. Of course everyone knew. "It's not a date," he mumbled again before burrowing into Severide's familiar pillow. He hadn't changed it in the time since they'd broken up and it was as soft as ever. He had fallen asleep many a times on this pillow.
"Still, family Christmas party, that's usually reserved for serious contenders, isn't it?" Severide's voice was only half-teasing. Casey didn't answer him.
Exhausted from the days events, several calls, emotional ups and downs over his mother, and multiple confrontations Casey wasn't surprised to find himself slowly dropping off. But he could still hear the thuds of Griffin messing around in his quarters. Severide must of noticed as well because gentle hands tugged him upright and pulled off his boots and pants. He mumbled something about stealing Severide's bed as he flopped back onto the bed and was covered with a blanket but a hand ghosted over his forehead and a low voice murmured a reassurance.
"Sleep Matt. I'll wake you when they're done."
So with Severide's permission there was nothing stopping Casey from snuggling into pillow and dropping off into the sweet bliss of unconsciousness.
Severide wouldn't say it was guilt over spooning Casey exactly that drove him to say yes to Royce's text but it certainly played a part. He had fully intended to wake Casey up when Griffin finally stopped being an asshole and finished up in his friend's quarters; but Griffin had been taking forever, and Severide had gotten tired. Besides Casey had looked so peaceful he hadn't wanted to wake him. It was easier to draw the blinds and just slide in behind him, getting the best night sleep he'd had since their breakup.
So while Severide didn't regret doing it completely, he couldn't say it didn't influence his decision a little bit. Being with Royce was - and he really hated using this word - easy. She was smart enough to make him to actually think - a change from the brainless bimbos that had been his type lately -, funny, and the sex wasn't half bad either. Plus it was always good to meet someone who didn't run into burning buildings all day, or work with people who ran into burning buildings all day, or wanted to talk about burning buildings all day.
Which was how he found himself standing in Royce's kitchen at 10pm, half dressed while she made them margaritas in just a jumper that barely covered her ass. Not that Severide was complaining about the view.
"Skinny margaritas," she half sang as she finished them and brought them over to the island bench Severide was leaning up against.
He arched a dark eyebrow. "What?"
"Skinny on the calories, not the alcohol," she promised, dark eyes dancing with mirth as she took a sip.
"You have a really nice place," he said, glancing around at the high ceilings and lavish furniture.
She smiled again. "Thank you."
"Guess it pays to work in… foreign financial-" He tried to think back to dinner when she'd been telling him about her job.
After a moment of listening to him floundering, Royce giggled and took pity on him. "International finance law. And yes, it does. But I want to hear about you," she said leaning her chin on her palm and watching him with her dark eyes. "And how you fight fires every day."
"Well," Severide began. "It's not everyday. On 24, off 48."
"Oh, yeah?" Royce tilted her head curiously. "I didn't know that."
"Yep."
"And then what do you like to do on your off days?"
"I repair boats up near Monroe Harbour."
"Do you go out to the lake much?"
"Yeah, more in the summer."
The conversation was easy between them and it felt good just to talk about small, inconsequential things for a moment.
"I haven't been out for a while," Royce said thoughtfully. "A long time actually," she traced the rim of her cup absently, deep in her own thoughts.
Neither had he, Severide thought suddenly. Trips out to the lake had been something he, Darden, and Casey had used to do all the time; sometimes taking Heather and the kids along but sometimes just the three of them, drifting for hours, content in each other's company. He'd been out only once since Darden's death but had returned not half an hour later, feeling hollow and sad.
"I'll have to take you out sometime," Severide, forcing lightness into his tone and he saw the same artificial happiness in Royce's returning smile.
"Oh, will you now?" she continued after a moment and the melancholy was melting away from her expression.
"Anytime you want, Royce," Severide promised. "Just the say the word."
Royce hummed thoughtfully and eyed him and Severide instantly knew he was in trouble.
"What?"
There was a long moment of silence where Royce played with the stem of her glass and watched him. When she spoke her voice was gentle, "Who was she?"
"What do you mean?" he said, although he had a good guess.
"The Renee that ruined my name."
She'd gotten it in one and Severide had to wonder if he really was that predictable. His smile fell slightly and he ducked his head.
"She was my fiancee," he told her truthfully. Renee had been so long ago that she barely registered anymore but would probably always jab him in the heart when he thought about her.
Royce nodded slowly. "Before Casey?"
This was the first time she'd mentioned him since that first dinner and Severide felt like he was uneven footing wondering where this conversation was going. Still he had his wits about him enough to nod.
"How did you meet him."
Severide sighed and ran a hand over his short hair.
"I didn't mean to pry-" Royce said suddenly. "If you don't want to talk about-"
"No it's fine," Severide said with a wan smile. "Um, we met at the academy actually. Me and my best friend Andy started together and it was him and me against the world, you know. It always had been.
"But there was this kid, Matt, a bit younger than us and he just had blinders on, you know. Like everyone would be goofing off or whatever and he would just be focused on what he was doing. And I actually didn't like him at first, because he was the only one who could give me a run for my money.
"But then Andy, he saw something in him, I guess and just decided that ,I don't know, he needed us, or we needed him and that was it. It was suddenly me, and Andy, and Matt against the world."
It had been one of those blinding, all-consuming friendships where they all just clicked and it felt like Matt had been around forever even from the first day. Severide found himself smiling at the memories.
Casey didn't know if it was waking up knowing that he had slept in the same bed with Severide again after so long that had him feeling restless or something else. He'd woken up alone, the other side of the bed still warm and wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. And after spending the entire day wondering and analysing why it mattered to him so much that they'd shared a bed, where they'd probably done nothing more than slept back to back, Casey found himself needing something to distract himself. Which was how he ended up upside the Vaughan's house with a thermal imaging camera in hand and a half-assed plan.
He knocked on the door and waited patiently for the woman to appear. Casey jolted slghtly, remembering that this was the woman who had kissed him on the cheek and thanked him in one breath and accused him of theft in the next.
"Evening, Ma'am," he said pleasantly when she opened the door.
"Can I help you?" she said coldly.
"I just wanted to apologise on behalf of Truck 81 for your missing item, and to let you know we're going to get to the bottom of it," he prattled on, knowing it would annoy her.
"Well, I should hope so," Mrs Vaughan sniffed.
Casey held up the camera for her to see. "This is a thermal imaging camera," he explained. "It's a really great piece of technology that helps us see through the thickest smoke."
"Okay," she said blankly.
Casey smiled thinly. "We all carry them, and we leave them recording the whole time we're on a call. I'm actually on my way to drop all our cameras off with the police so they can review the footage, and see exactly what happened the entire time my men and I were inside your home. So don't worry."
"Okay," the woman said again and although her tone had taken on a patronising air, Casey could see the sliver of fear in her eyes. "Is that it?"
"Yeah."
"Great, so maybe you should leave now." She closed the door before he could comment. Snickering to himself, Casey bounded back down the steps and hopped into his truck. He couldn't be sure if his plan would work but he was fairly confident and it would be fun to watch her lies crumble around her.
Next shift started with Griffin turning up at the house again, C.P.D officers in tow to finish searching the house. Starting with all their lockers.
"Son, you're a slob," he remarked nastily to Cruz as his locker was opened to reveal the chaos within.
"Got something," the cop searching Mouch's locker said suddenly and the entire company stiffened.
The cop withdrew a jewelry case and handed it over to Griffin who was cackling and practically salivating. He flipped the case open and his face dropped comically.
"False alarm," he said sounding dejected. "Just an adorable pair of kitty cat cufflinks."
"It's the maneki-neko, a Japanese good luck charm," Mouch corrected him shortly. "And those were a Christmas gift, if you don't mind." He held out his hand expectantly.
"Hey, domo arigato, Mr Roboto," Griffin said and handed the case over.
"That doesn't even make sense," Mouch muttered.
Griffin's phone rang before he could retaliate and he pulled it out and flipped it open, answering with an important sounding, "Griffin here. Is that a fact?" he asked after a moment. "That's very interesting. No, thank you." And he ended the call and pushed the phone back into his pocket before turning to address the locker room. "The diamonds apparently slipped down into a heat register. Mrs Vaughan just found them."
"You've got to be kidding me," Mouch said.
"What a surprise," Herrmann bit out, glaring at the locker across from him.
"Less paperwork for me," Griffin said with a shrug but Casey could see the glimmer of disappointment in his eyes and knew Griffin would have liked nothing more than to see his rank stripped over a stolen diamond scandal. "Let's go," the redhead said to the two officers as they headed for the locker room door, passing Casey on his way. "Do say hi to your mum for me."
But Casey didn't flinch and just jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Door's that way."
No one else in the locker room moved until they had disappeared. Then they shuffled about, closing their lockers and moving to get on with their day. Only Herrmann stayed where he was, watching his lieutenant carefully.
"All right, so what did you do?" he asked finally.
The rest of the company turned to look at him.
"Nothing." Then after a pause, he continued, "I just told her we recorded the whole thing on our thermal cameras, you know."
While the majority of the room smiled and chuckled at the implication of Casey's words, Mills looked confused, looking between the others, trying to get it.
"Wait, but thermal cameras don't record..."
Herrmann and the others looked at him and rolled their eyes good-naturedly and Mouch punched the kid on the arm as realisation lit up his eyes.
"Oh," he said. "That's good."
Casey scoffed and laughed slightly before leaving them to it. Capp caught him just as he was leaving the locker room however.
"Casey, you have a visitor in the briefing room."
He nodded, in both acknowledgment and thanks and headed that way, surprised, when he got there to see his sister through the window.
"Chris?" he asked, still in disbelief. He honestly couldn't remember the last time she had visited the house. "This is a nice surprise," he added and pulled her in for a hug. "Merry Christmas."
"Yeah, Matt, Merry Christmas. Almost done shopping." She held out a parcel wrapped in green paper with candy canes. "I couldn't remember if you're a large or extra large, but there's a gift receipt in there."
"That's really sweet," he told her, taking the package with a smile. "Thank you."
They were both quiet for a moment, but Casey could see his sister struggling to find the words to say whatever it was that she had come to the house for so he simply waited. It didn't take her long.
"Since we saw you at the cemetery," she started. "Violet's been pretty flipped out. 'Why doesn't Uncle Matt ever come to see us? Does he not like us? Do you not like him?' And she shouldn't have to be asking those questions. And that's on you and me."
"Absolutely it is, yeah." It had killed Matt to see his niece and how much she had grown up in the months since he'd seen her.
"I feel like she's been without her uncle, and I've been without my brother for too long."
Casey sighed. This was all well and good but he hadn't been the one to put up boundaries between himself and his sister. Chris had.
"I want nothing more than for us to be in each other's lives. But the last time we talked about it-"
It had ended in an all out screaming fight with more nasty words than kind ones. The look on Chris' face told him she remembered well enough.
"I know. I remember the conversation." Chris' dark eyes traced his familiar features. "So you're still defending her."
"I'm not going to turn my back on her."
Chris choked on a sob. "Don't you miss dad?" The question was like a punch to the stomach and they both knew it. "I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Chris said quickly. "Look I'll call you, okay?" She kissed his cheek and fled from the room before he could work out what to say.
Casey was simultaneously grateful for and dreading Dawson's Christmas party. While the distraction from his own problems was welcome, the party as distractions went would require some effort considering Dawson and her brother were the only two people he knew.
But the night went smoothly enough. There were so many people there that Casey didn't have to worry about the spotlight being on him for too long and the Dawson's were an easy going bunch. Besides both Dawson and Antonio were there to save him from wandering hands and probing questions.
Although there was an aunt that kept cornering him.
As the night wore on it was Dawson who saved him this time, looping an arm through his and steering him away from her relative, murmuring an excuse.
"Drink," she asked, relieving a passing waiter of two of her champagne flutes.
"Yeah, thanks," he said, taking a sip of the one she handed him.
"Oh, here, I want to show you this room," Dawson said, leading him through the maze of people and hallways until they came across an empty room. The construction worker in him could appreciate the beautifully crafted spiral staircase in the middle of the room and the detailed wood paneling on the walls.
"Wow," he said and ran a hand over the banister of the staircase.
"Nice, right," Dawson said with a smile. She stepped up onto the bottom step of the staircase and turned to face him the extra height of the step and her heels putting her just taller than him. "Oh and hey, I promise I won't let my aunt corner you like that again. I'm sorry," she added with a giggle.
"It's okay," Casey assured her. "She's fun," he said, thinking off the butt pinches he'd been subjected to over the course of the night.
"Better when you're drunk," Dawson muttered and downed her drink in one go. Casey had tried to keep up with Dawson but he wasn't a big drinker and didn't have the snide comments of his cousins fuelling his need to get totally smashed like Dawson did. Dawson eyed him with bright eyes, "You've got to learn to keep up."
They shared a laugh and Casey didn't know which one of them moved but suddenly they were a whole lot closer.
"I mean," she said, after a long moment. "Are we just here as friends, or is this a date?"
Casey's mouth twisted as he tried to think off a way to brush her off without hurting her feelings. But then her lips were barely an inch from him and he didn't have time to think at all. At the last minute he turned his head, catching the corner of her mouth in the barest brushing off skin.
"I can't," he told her when she pulled back, hurt darkening her eyes.
"No, yeah," she said quickly, looking away. "I get it."
Casey didn't know what he would've said, probably anything to get that wounded look off her face but they were interrupted by the door suddenly opening revealing one of Dawson's cousins and his girlfriend stumbling in, laughing.
"Oh," the woman said, laughter dying as she saw them standing there. "Sorry. Don't mind us."
They backed out as quickly as they had come leaving Dawson and Casey in uncomfortable silence. Again Casey was standing there wondering what to say but this time it was Dawson who interrupted.
"Uh, you ready for dessert? I'm ready for dessert." She lurched off the step with a painfully tight smile and strode off and out the door before he could call her back, apologise, say anything.
He sighed and dropped onto the steps, fingers rubbing a tight spot in his forehead where he could feel a headache forming. It would of been so easy just to let her kiss him, turn this into a first date. Dawson was beautiful that night in her tight, purple dress that she wore like no one's business and one of his closest friends. So why had the idea of kissing her felt so wrong? Casey knew the answer before he'd really finished thinking the question and stood quickly to go after Dawson. He needed another drink.
It was early on their day off and Severide had just finished his workout and was considering the contents of the fridge when he heard Shay's footsteps on the stairs. He checked the time in surprise, wondering if it was somehow later than he'd thought, knowing that Shay usually didn't get up before 10 on her days off. When he confirmed that it was indeed 7 in the morning he turned, snappy comment on his lips. His smile died however when he took in the cloudy expression on Shay's face and the overnight bag looped over her arm.
"You know I love you, right?" she said, sounding unusually sombre and Severide's stomach dropped.
"Okay, what's going on?" He rounded the bench to sit on one of the bar stools for what he was anticipating was going to be a serious and uncomfortable conversation.
"I love you because I know you'd stick your neck out for me the way I have for you."
"Of course I would."
Shay continued as though he hadn't spoken. "And I did that to get you over the hump."
"Which you totally did," Severide said, not thinking about the pills he'd taken before and during his workout this morning.
"And then I found these in the trash," Shay said and for the first time Severide realised she was holding something else in her hands; two empty blister packets that he'd thrown out the night before.
"Those are old, they're old." The lie came bubbling up before he could wonder if it was a good idea but it didn't matter because it was transparent, he was transparent, and they both knew it.
He glanced away and then back at his friend, horrified to find unshed tears making her eyes shine.
"I perjured myself for you, Kelly."
Severide's stomach twisted and he almost stood but thought better of it, thinking his shaking legs wouldn't be able to hold him. "Shay," he said weakly.
She shook her head. "I'm out," she said simply and turned to head for the door.
This time Severide did stand, scrambling off his stool to hurry after her. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean?"
"I mean I'm out!" The tears were still there hovering on the precipice of her lids but now she was angry as well as upset. "We had a deal when I first moved in that we wouldn't get in each other's business, but I can't hold up my end. So I'm out."
"Shay, it's okay," he tried, even as she walked to the door. "I've got it."
He reached for her but she jerked herself away.
"No!" she spat. "You don't got it! And I'm not gonna sit here and watch you just fool yourself. I'll get the rest of my stuff later."
He followed her to the door, eye burning with his own unshed tears. "Shay, please. Please don't go." Because everyone else had already left him and he didn't think he could survive Shay leaving him to. "Please, please don't do this."
But she was gone and the only thing left was the sound of her slamming the door behind her.
"Fuck!" The word burst from him and was immediately followed by a sob. His fist connected with the wall and with a shuddering groan the plaster gave way.
But the stinging pain in his hand wasn't enough and the tears started thick and fast. Unable to stay still he strode about the room, resisting the urge to destroy the apartment any further. First his father, then his mother, then Darden and Casey, and now Shay. Severide wanted to know what is was about him that made it so easy for the people he loved to leave.
Through the blur of his tears he spied his phone on the bench and snatched it up. Flicking through the contacts he spared a half a thought to calling Royce but ultimately he scrolled past it. There was only one voice he wanted to hear right now.
Standing in line for the metal detectors, Casey felt a stab of guilt as he ignored Cruz's call and tossed the phone down into the tray along with his keys, wallet, and miscellaneous coins from his pocket. But then there was also three calls from Severide he'd also ignored so maybe it was okay. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone.
He took his visitor I.D and headed into the guard lined room. The Metropolitan Correctional Centre might just be Casey's least favourite place in the world but it was one he knew well considering he had visited it at least once a month for the past fifteen years. It was after all his mother's home after she had murdered his father.
Nancy Casey was a small, plump woman whose warm smile hadn't been stolen by her years in prison. It was hard for Casey to reconcile the image of her pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as a child with the woman who'd taken a shotgun to his father.
Nancy approached him cautiously as always, as though she was waiting for him to reject her as his sister had and slid onto the bench across from him.
Casey smiled slightly. "Hi, mum."
Uh umm, guys I've finished writing?! And I just can't? Like this was two years in the making and I've finally finished. Wow.
Anyway so three more chapters after this one and this first book will be completed. Hope you liked the chapter and let me know what you thought xx
Question of the week is: Favourite dynamic? For me I just love the family dynamic between the entire house especially in the first 2 seasons. From a writing standpoint I love Casey and Shay because I think there was so much potential that the show just missed out on especially considering that Lauren German and Jesse Spencer were such great friends in real life and could have had great chemistry on the screen :)