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This chapter explains a little about where Kelly is and how his friends are feeling.
Andy, April and Scott were all waiting impatiently at the Darden household. Andy's next-door neighbour had, upon seeing how distressed the teenagers were, agreed to see what he could find out about their missing friend, Kelly Severide.
Vincent "Vince" Torretti had been with CPD for almost three decades and over that time he had worked in several different departments and more than a couple of precincts – that had earned him a great many contacts throughout the city, ones he was now putting to good use while trying to track down a kid he'd only ever really met in passing.
He liked Andy – he was a good kid trying to do right by his family after losing his father to cancer some years before, always helping out around the house and tending gardens in the neighbourhood, or going further afield with one of his friends, working on boats or cars, or working weekend shifts at a record store in an effort to earn a little extra cash. The kid worked hard to help out his mother and make sure that his little sister wanted for nothing, and the old timer couldn't help but respect the hell out of Andy for it.
Over the years, Vince and his wife had shared more than a few cooked meals with their neighbours, and it hadn't taken many trips over to the Darden household before realising that Kelly Severide was very much the brother Andy had never had but always wanted. The two were thick as thieves, right from the get-go, finding fun and trouble together in equal measure and always there to bail the other one out.
Vince didn't know much about Kelly, but he did know that when the Darden patriarch had been slowly wasting away, his painful, lingering death hanging over the family like a constant black cloud, the boy had never been far from his friend. Sometimes it was a simple matter of him visiting the house, sitting side-by-side as they lost themselves in a game or a movie, other times, he would drag a miserably depressed Andy and his little sister out to the park or off to the arcade, doing everything he could to distract them from the cruelties of reality waiting for them at home.
The old detective had never thought to inquire as to the state of Kelly's home life, as they rarely swapped more than a quick 'hello' or, more usually, a slight nod of the head. He certainly would never have guessed that the word 'home' for Kelly Severide came with the very loosest of definitions, his crackpot mother allowing him no real place of refuge there, ensuring he sought it out at the Darden residence or elsewhere.
Vince vaguely knew Benny Severide from back in the day, when they'd both started to make names for themselves in their respective careers – they'd shared a few beers but certainly never been friends. Benny's reputation as a fireman was outstanding, and the man had earned a lot of respect from just about every echelon of society in Chicago due to his professional capabilities – right now, however, Vince thought the guy deserved a swift, hard punch to the gut.
His own children had all but moved out, one to work in Seattle whilst his youngest was finishing up university in Florida with a job already lined up in Jacksonville. They'd had more than their fair share of arguments over the years, some more explosive than others, but the idea of not being there for them on the very worst of days was unfathomable, and he couldn't understand how any father could fail so spectacularly even as his very job reminded him that it was a far from infrequent occurrence.
However, Benny Severide was not even in a different city from his child, and yet, with his mother in a closed psychiatric ward and no other family members to speak of, Kelly had been handed over to the state, left alone and lost in the system, miles from his home and his friends – with his father's tacit refusal to take him in, Kelly looked set to stay in foster care until his mother was deemed of sound mind, or, more likely, until he reached the age of eighteen. It was a spectacularly shitty situation!
"How much do you know about what happened?" the homicide detective asked, trying to gauge what they knew, and just what, exactly, he should tell them. He'd got the basics from Andy, but not much more, mainly because the kid didn't know anything else.
"His mom," Scott sighed wearily. "She really lost the plot this time."
"He was covered in bruises," April quickly responded, and Vince heard the unasked question.
"Well, I'm sure you've likely already guessed that they were from his mother," he confirmed, receiving subdued nods from them all. "From what I gather he tried to grab her, stop her from hurting herself and destroying their home – understandably in her state of mind she didn't react well to that."
"But, Sev can take care of himself…I mean…" Andy started, trying to understand how his friend's delicate looking mother could inflict such damage on someone he all too frequently thought of as invincible, despite knowing the many problems that existed in Kelly's life.
"She's his mother, Andy," Vince shook his head sadly. "At the end of the day, no matter what, that clearly counts for something with the kid."
"He would never risk hurting her," April stated quietly but firmly. She knew that Kelly, for all of his gruff, surly mannerisms, was a gentle soul at heart with an incredible capacity to empathise – his temper could be flared with sometimes violent results, but never towards someone so wholly vulnerable as his mother would have been in that moment.
She'd been on the receiving end of one too many of his efforts to appease her to ever think that he would have tried to hurt his mother, even in self-defence – when she'd been sad or scared or just downright furious, he would take everything April could throw at him, from tears as she cried on his shoulder, to bruises as she uselessly beat her fists against his chest, or verbal lacerations as she viciously cursed his name, and he was still nothing but gentle.
"Look," Vince sighed. "I don't have the doctor's report, but what I do know is that first night the medics took him to the ER and he stayed overnight for observation – not much more than that was contained in the police report. Mrs Severide had already been given her initial assessment and she'd agreed to sign herself into UIC voluntarily, so by the time he was discharged it was a simple matter of finding someone to act in loco parentis."
"And, of course, Benny Severide stepped up to the plate," Scott remarked bitterly. He was so pissed at the man and he barely even knew the guy, but to leave his friend hanging like that…well, if he saw Benny's face in the near future he was sure as hell going to try his hardest to rearrange it!
Vince heard the sour tone in Rice's voice and assumed that Benny's parenting skills, or lack thereof, were nothing new, and unfortunately, it looked like Kelly was going to suffer more for it in the weeks to come.
"As things stand now, Mrs Severide is on the psych ward at UIC for an indefinite period of time," Vince started only to be interrupted.
"What the hell does that mean?" Andy demanded, his frustration ripping any and all good manners from him.
"I'm getting to that," the cop replied shortly. "She will be an inpatient until such a time as she can be declared healthy, psychologically speaking – when she is no longer a threat to herself, to her son, or to anyone else, then she'll be released."
"Will she get Kelly back then?" April asked with growing trepidation. What is DCFS thought Mrs Severide incapable of looking after her son? Would he be doomed to spend the next couple of years in foster care before being cast adrift in the wider world?
"I don't know, kid," Vince shook his head sadly. "That's a question for DCFS. But if the hospital declares her capable then I don't see why not."
"How long is she going to be there?" Scott wondered.
"There's no hard and fast rule for these things – chances are the hospital staff will very much play it by ear but I don't imagine we'll get a preliminary release date just yet."
"God, this is fucked up!" Andy exclaimed loudly as he threw his hands up in the air and started to pace, desperately trying to burn of some of his restless energy.
Vince lifted an eyebrow at the language, unused to hearing profanity from the usually calm kid next door, but he let it slide – given everything that had happened, one swearword was pretty modest.
"Come on, man," Scott said as he approached his friend and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder only to have it roughly shaken off.
"Andy?" April asked quietly, her voice quivering with emotion. She was not normally so easily affected, but her own sense of helplessness and her anger at the situation Kelly had found himself stuck in were exacerbating just about every passing sentiment.
Andy paused and turned to look at his friends. April was silently imploring him to calm down and hold his shit together, her eyes glistening with unshed tears hinting that she was one more outburst away from losing it herself. Scott was stood rigidly straight, staring at an indeterminate spot by his feet, the only movement the slow clenching and unclenching of his fists as he tried to control his own feelings.
Normally, Kelly was the glue that held their little group together, his ability to read between the lines often giving him the first hint that not all was well, and so he would help keep the peace where relevant, offer a shoulder of support when needed or just take them away from it all with a spontaneous trip to the lake or into the city to have some fun and unwind.
When his father had passed away, and his little sister, barely old enough to truly comprehend exactly what had happened, hung like a limpet to their mother's side while she sorted out funeral arrangements with their aunt and uncle, and a thirteen year-old Andy was one more platitude away from punching someone, Kelly had shown up on his doorstep wearing a backpack, with a cooler in one hand and a tent in the other.
"Come on, man," Severide said in lieu of an actual greeting as he walked through the front door and headed towards the stairs, dropping his things off by the door as he went. "Scott's mom has a couple of days free and she agreed to take us up to Illinois Beach - her shift should be over any moment now and we've got less than an hour to get you packed before they're due here to pick us up."
"What?" Andy had asked blankly, his mind numb with grief and struggling to follow even the most basic of conversations let alone the unexpected ones.
"You need to pack," Kelly explained before grabbing his friend by the arm and giving him a gentle push towards the stairs.
"Pack? But, I can't…my mom…" Andy started.
"Already sorted," Kelly informed him. "She said you needed to get out of here for a while, so we're going to spend a couple of days by the lake and mess about on the water and go biking through the woods…whatever we want. But we need to hurry!"
"And she's letting us go by ourselves?" Andy asked incredulously. He had a relatively large amount of freedom when wandering around his own neighbourhood, but his mother's lax attitude quickly disappeared the moment he stepped outside their local area – he didn't think she'd agree to an unsupervised trip to Illinois Beach State Park.
"Of course not," Kelly shook his head. "Like I said, Scott's family is going to come with us."
"Really?" Andy wondered – things had been tense at the Rice household since Scott's father had lost his job, and instead of going out to look for more work, Mr Rice spent all day drinking at home. Andy, like Kelly, was worried for their friend – it had only been a week since Scott had had the cast from his arm removed after 'falling down the stairs' one night.
"Money's tight for them at the moment, and a few days camping is a pretty cheap way to get three kids out of the house," Kelly informed his friend. "Besides, I think they need to get out of the house for a couple of days even more than you do."
"Are all of them coming?" Andy asked somewhat nervously as he thought of the imposing figure of Scott's father.
"He's staying at home," Kelly replied, perceptive enough to know what, or rather who Andy was really asking about. "Mrs Rice will have Anna and Joshua and look out for them," Kelly said of Scott's younger siblings, "And we'll have a tent of our own and can go off by ourselves."
"I don't know, man," Andy hesitated. "My mom…I don't know that she'd like it."
"Your mom's cool with it and she trusts us to stay out of trouble for a couple of days in a park – it's not like we're going camping in Englewood!"
"Andy," his mother said as she came into the hallway and took in his hesitant hovering on the bottom step with a degree of sadness. "Go with your friends, sweetheart. I know you feel like you should be here to take care of things but really, there's nothing you can do at the moment. There are so many things I need to sort out: there's my time off work, the funeral, life insurance, the hospital – so many…too many things to think about, but your aunt and uncle are going to help me."
"Mom, I can't just leave you here!"
"Baby," his mother said as she walked up to him and gently cupped his cheeks. "Honestly, I think the best thing you can do for me right now is to do the best thing for you, and that means taking care of yourself and being with your friends. Your sister is going to stay with her friend Michelle across the street for a couple of days – she doesn't really understand what's happening right now but she can tell everyone is upset and I really think she needs to get out of the house." She could tell that he remained unconvinced, "Give me a couple of days to get through all this paperwork without worrying about you and your sister, please?"
"Sure, mom," Andy had replied, choking up with emotion.
"You look after my boy, Kelly," Mrs Darden said, kissing the teenager on the cheek as she headed back downstairs.
"Always," Kelly promised before following his friend up to his bedroom. Andy hastily began stuffing vast amounts of clothing into a bag. "It's a couple of days in a tent, Andy, we're not going off on a round the world vacation," he joked in an effort to get his friend to relax.
Andy sighed heavily before throwing the bag across the room and sitting down on the edge of his bed where he promptly burst into tears. Kelly quietly sat next to him before placing a gentle arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, letting Andy sob his heart out, and Sev never said a word, just let him cry until the tears ran out.
Eventually, feeling somewhat embarrassed by his breakdown, Andy shuffled off to the bathroom to clean up and try to hide away the evidence of his distress. When he returned to his room almost ten minutes later, wash things in hand ready to be packed, he found that Kelly had picked up the bag and re-packed it with everything he might need.
"Thanks, Sev," Andy said quietly but earnestly.
"Any time, man," Kelly nodded, offering his friend a small smile.
And that was Kelly – he could be so infuriatingly stoic and stubbornly silent in the face of his own problems, but he went to the ends of the earth for his friends with not a hint of hesitation on his part, always seemingly able to figure out just what was needed to help out.
It had been a good few days by the lake – the three of them managed to spend most of their time alone doing their own thing, and forgetting about the troubles that awaited them back in the city. When he returned home, Andy felt lighter than he had done before and while he was still devastated by the loss of his father, he felt stronger and better prepared to face the funeral. Both Kelly and Scott had been there, too, quietly standing by his side when he wanted them there and backing off when it all got too much and he needed some time alone.
Now, when Kelly needed a friend the most, they didn't know where he was or what they could do – Andy wouldn't know what to say to his friend, even if he was stood right in front of him.
"So do you know where he is?" April asked, getting to the question they wanted to be answered above all others.
"I do," Vince sighed. Kelly had been living in a group home in Logan Square for almost a week and by all accounts, the kid was furious about it.
Kelly Severide was anything but happy. The group home they had dumped him in was even more cramped than the tiny apartment he shared with his mother and the staff there varied from overly sympathetic to out-and-out bastards.
His first night there had been a predictably unhappy experience – fresh out of the hospital, still aching all over and beyond exhausted, Kelly had been shown to a small bedroom with two sets of bunkbeds pushed up against opposite walls, barely a shoulder's width gap between them. The only available beds were on the top bunks, and given that his broad frame had gained a reasonable amount of extra height due to his latest growth spurt, he was more than a little dubious about the flimsy-looking bed's ability to hold his weight.
Nonetheless, he was about to test the bed, desperate for some sleep, when his case-worker only allowed him the time to drop off his bag before taking him to a small office when a senior member of staff for the home talked him through the rules and explained what was expected of him.
Some of the things he could have guessed – no alcohol, sex or drugs was an expected demand, but going to see a psychiatrist? Hell no! He'd quickly made his feelings on the matter known only for them to tell him he had no choice. After enduring a good twenty minute lecture about the benefits of therapy, Kelly sat looking mutinous but decided he would keep his feelings to himself – they might be able to make him go, but they sure as hell couldn't make him talk.
Eventually, the welcoming speech was over and Kelly wanted to retire to his bed only to find out that it was not allowed – apparently 'The Schedule' was sacrosanct and no violations would be tolerated, and 'The Schedule' demanded a shared evening meal. Barely able to keep from face-planting in his somewhat suspect macaroni and cheese, his resentment for the group home only intensified as he was expected to wait until everyone had finished and cleaned up before being granted the chance to leave.
Over what was left of the weekend, he found himself chaffing at the restrictions imposed upon him by the staff. Anytime he wanted something from the fridge, he needed to seek permission first, anytime he wanted to watch TV or read a book or take a shower, he needed to ask first. When he needed some fresh air, he went out into the backyard to find a concrete mess of tired garden furniture and wire-mesh fencing with loose bits of barbed-wire – the overall appearance was one of a prison yard and that was exactly what it felt like when he was told that he wasn't allowed outside without permission. He was sixteen, for Christ's sake!
There were four other kids in the home and they all varied in ages and character. The youngest, Manuel, was eleven – apparently the carers didn't like to have such big age gaps in roommates, but space was at a premium in Chicago's group homes and such disparities were quite common.
Manuel occupied the bed underneath his – he kept hanging spare sheets around it to act as curtains, blocking out everyone and everything as he hid away, but the staff were continually removing them. Manuel shied away from any and all physical contact, barely said a word and had yet to look him in the eyes and Kelly hated to think what he must have endured to be so untrusting of physical contact at eleven.
The other bunkbed in his room only had one occupant – Darnell was sixteen years old and originally from Roseland. His father had long since disappeared, and with his mother spiralling into a nasty heroin addiction, Darnell had turned to the gang scene – he was smart as hell, but so far beyond apathetic that he saw no point in directing his intellect towards something more worthwhile. His case-worker had moved him to the other side of the city, apparently hoping that the physical distance would help remove Darnell from all aspects of gang life. Kelly knew for a fact that he was still in touch with his boys back home because he had a stolen mobile phone he used to talk to them at night.
On the whole, he and Darnell steered clear of each other and had only had one minor confrontation about what to watch on TV. With his avoidance and Manuel's near mute status, Kelly at least had a little peace and quiet in his room and that was certainly hard to come by with the other two.
Sharing the other room was a seventeen year old and an eighteen year old. Troy was eighteen and after a lifetime in foster care, he was simply biding his time, waiting for school to end so he could graduate and get the hell out of the foster care system. He already had a part-time job at a local garage and a solid group of friends from school, and with only a matter of weeks to go until his graduation he was pushing each and every boundary, caring less and less about the rules and any potential consequences.
His roommate was a very studious kid named Krzysztof. His parents were Polish but had moved to the US for work. However, his mother had died in childbirth and his father had been left to raise Krzysztof and a new-born baby boy all by himself - things had been fine until the father caught a stray bullet in a drive-by. So at the ages of seven and three, the brothers had been put into the system – his little brother had been adopted almost immediately, and while he had been in and out of foster homes, Krzysztof always ended up being sent back to the group home.
Having suffered through one too many bad placements before, he preferred being at the group home – life might be more restrictive, but he knew exactly what he could and couldn't get away with and he didn't mind the staff. He was soft-spoken and unfailingly polite, and as he spent most of his time doing his homework or reading a book, he had quickly become a firm favourite of the carers.
Unfortunately for everyone else, the same could not be said for Troy and the two roommates were like oil and water.
Every morning started with one of the two arguing over something – be it time spent in the shower to using the last of the milk, there was always something that they had to fight about. Kelly's cereal had been collateral damage and ended up on the floor more than once when those two had decided to go at it. Some of the carers flat out ignored it and a couple of them did everything they could to keep the peace and those two apart, issuing them both a 'conflict resolution' lecture before separating them in opposite corners of the house until they'd both had a chance to cool down. Unfortunately, there were a couple of carers who had an entirely different approach.
The staff was on a constant rotation, and the atmosphere in the house was entirely dependent upon who was working that day. For the most part, they were a pretty apathetic bunch, long since inured to the depressing backstories of the youths in their care and more than used to dealing with unruly teenagers on a daily basis so that next to nothing shocked them anymore.
There were one or two who tried to be more involved – they were usually the young ones fresh out of college who still dreamed about making a difference, ones who had not yet been weighed down by the bureaucratic nightmare that was ninety percent of the job and the too-frequent tragedies that constituted the other ten. Kelly had found that they tended to be overly solicitous, trying to get the boys to open up while at the same time acting as though they were best friends and not adults acting in loco parentis.
However, their well-meaning intrusions and New-Age hippy bullshit were infinitely more desirable than being left with the bullies. There were a couple of carers who did anything but care, and at the first sign of trouble they became more than a little heavy-handed. God knows that Kelly had wanted to punch both Troy and Krzysztof at one time or another during their frequent bouts, but he had managed to rein himself in – apparently the carers felt no such compunctions and were responsible for more than a few bruises. But they didn't just leave it at a little physical violence every now and then, either.
The two problematic members of staff seemed to take great pleasure in verbally assaulting them too. Kelly suspected it was so that they would get a reaction and be justified in using physical force – he'd already received more than a few choice comments made about his mother, but he was determined to keep his head down, desperate not to rock the boat so that if…no, when his mother was released there would be no obstacles to him returning home with her.
Krzysztof would bury himself in his books if ever they directed their attention his way, keeping quiet and doing his best to avoid them. Troy had long since learnt the repercussions to reacting to their vitriolic diatribe and knew enough to just flat out ignore them, although Kelly could see that as his placement at the home was nearing its end, he was becoming less and less concerned with the consequences of fighting back – the carers clearly sensed it too, as they seemed to be more and more put out by his height and don't-mess-with-me attitude.
On the whole, though, the two bullying carers went after easier targets. Darnell was generally pretty easy-going unless you got in his face, and then his reactions tended to be explosive, prompting the carers to react violently. Manuel was the youngest in the home, and by far the most vulnerable. Whatever he had endured in his young life had clearly pushed him to the brink – he shied away from any and all physical contact and jumped at loud noises. He avoided eye contact as much as he could and rarely said anything above a whisper when he spoke at all. The poor boy couldn't even find any peace in his sleep, as he often woke up quietly sobbing from the latest nightmares - Kelly hated to think of what he must have been through if, even half-awake and disturbed by his dreams, he did his best to remain as near to silent as possible.
The two problem carers, Anderson and Jenkins, seemed to take great pleasure in eliciting panic attacks and terrorising the poor kid, knowing full well that he lacked the strength, physically and emotionally, to fight back. Krzysztof would ignore it all while Darnell would occasionally draw their fire, hurling insults at them and provoking a reaction of his own, and Troy would sometimes take Manuel and watch TV with him, creating a physical barrier between the small boy and his would-be tormentors.
Sometimes, however, they were not around and Kelly found that even with his most fervent desire to avoid rocking the boat and causing problems down the line, he could not leave the kid to fend for himself. That was how he found himself in his current predicament – locked in the laundry room with a split lip, a fresh black eye and a couple of busted ribs. He really needed to get out, back to his own neighbourhood and to friends who would watch his back – more than anything, he just wanted to go home.
Please let me know what you think and if you spot any mistakes – thanks!