A/N: Former members of Chicago Fire/Firehouse 51 will periodically make their appearance throughout this story. It only seems right to bring them back, as the Firehouse 51 crew has so many friends and touched so many lives.

Boden sat in a chair next to Squad Lieutenant Kelly Severide's bed as he watched his young protégé take his last breaths. Gabby was standing on the other side of Severide, and Mills was standing next to her. They had said goodbye to Mouch in the middle of the night, and this morning the doctors had warned them that Severide likely wouldn't make it through the day. They'd been glued to his side ever since, not wanting him to be alone.

"He's with Stella now," Gabby stated, tears streaming down her face as a nurse walked calmly into the room, shutting off the wailing monitors. Severide's mom, who had been there the first day but had been unable to bear staying, had given Boden power of attorney over him, and Boden had signed a DNR for his lieutenant the second day after a lengthy talk with Dr. Choi about the pain and suffering the younger man would face if he somehow managed to survive. Gabby, who was surprised to find that she still had power of attorney for Casey, had done the same for him. "It's what he would have wanted. Without firefighting and without Stella, he wouldn't have wanted to live."

Together, the two men and Gabby made their way to the door. They would now take up vigil at Casey's bedside. Ironically, the one who had been worst off was also the one who had survived the longest. Boden glanced back at Severide's body one last time, saying a silent goodbye to the man he'd thought of as a son.

"Chief Boden?" a voice called his name, and he motioned for Mills and Gabby to continue on as he turned to the young chaplain who was striding towards him.

"Chaplain Sheffield," Boden acknowledged, not sure he was in the mood to talk to the young man. He was thankful for Chaplain Sheffield, knowing that he'd been making his rounds of the families, ministering to them and comforting them as much as possible, but he couldn't help but wish that Chaplain Orlovsky was there instead. With the exception of Ritter, Orlovsky had known all of the crew personally and had built relationships with them and their families over the years. Sheffield had barely been their chaplain for six months, and in those six months, they'd barely even seen him around the firehouse.

"I heard about McHolland, and I wanted to offer my condolences to you," the chaplain stated. "I'm so sorry for your loss. And Severide; I was informed that the doctors don't believe he'll make it."

"Kelly Severide passed a few minutes ago," Boden replied briskly. He felt a twinge of regret when Chaplain Sheffield's shoulders fell and grief filled his eyes. The chaplain may not have known any of them well, but he was still the chaplain, and losing so many of those he was responsible for caring for couldn't be easy, particularly given that he was engaged to Brett, who had been injured in the same incident.

"I truly am sorry," Chaplain Sheffield replied sadly. "I know Sylvie will be heartbroken over the news, as well."

"How is she doing?" Boden inquired. The last time he'd seen his paramedic had been when she was in the ER, getting her arm splinted. Her face had been streaked with tears, and there had been an empty expression in her eyes. Due to the fact that it had been a mass casualty incident and her injury was relatively minor, she'd been given pain medicine and her arm stabilized, but she'd then been forced to wait; they hadn't been able to risk using an ambulance to transport a patient that was stable until they knew for certain that it wasn't needed for someone in more serious condition. She'd had to sit and listen as updates had been called over the radio about the status of the others from 51. She'd seen Casey, Severide, Mouch, and Cruz carried out, placed on stretchers, and whisked away in ambulances, their turnout gear burnt and their bodies themselves covered in burns.

The chaplain sighed sadly. "She's heartbroken over the loss of her friends," he stated. "Her arm will heal, but I'm not sure she'll ever fully recover emotionally. She barely speaks. Her parents are with her, as I didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone while I handle my responsibility to care for the families of the fallen. I did offer to bring her to the hospital with me, but she refused."

Boden nodded. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't sure any of those left behind would ever fully recover emotionally. "And the families?"

"All of them are struggling. Cindy Herrmann has been surprisingly strong throughout all of this; she's heartbroken, but I can tell she's doing her best to hold it together for the children. Trudy…she's a tough woman. Sergeant Voight and others from her precinct are with her, supporting her as much as possible. Chloe and Lily…their families are with them, but both young women are heartbroken. Ritter's family…they're taking it pretty hard. Having already lost a family member because of the CFD…I think it's made this harder on them." The chaplain paused before admitting, "I haven't been able to reach any family for Stella Kidd yet, but I'll keep trying. I'll add Severide's mom to the list, as well."

"You won't find any family for Kidd," Boden informed him. "We were her family."

Sheffield nodded. "Thank you." He looked sympathetically at the older man. "I'm here for you, as well as Captain Casey's ex-wife and anyone else. Please let me know if there's anything I can do."

Boden glanced over his shoulder at the two former paramedic firefighters who were at Casey's bedside before turning his attention back to the chaplain. "I'm not sure there's anything you can do, but I appreciate it," Boden replied. "There is one thing, however. The funerals start tomorrow; is everything set for those?"

"That's one of the reasons I came here," the chaplain informed Boden. "Chaplain Orlovsky arrived today, and he and I agreed that it would be best for him to officiate. He knew all of them so much better than I had the chance to."

Boden sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the chaplain who had been by their side throughout so much over the years and his willingness to be there at the end. "Thank you," he informed the chaplain. He hesitated before admitting, "I suspect that it's only a matter of time before we lose Casey. I know he and Brett were close, so I thought you should know."

Once the chaplain left, Boden turned towards Casey's room, his steps slow. He wasn't sure how he would make it through the next few days of funerals. Being at the hospital, keeping watch over those who were fighting to survive, had been difficult, but it had given him a distraction. Soon, though, he would be forced to confront the fact that he'd lost nearly his entire crew in one fell swoop. He'd be forced to sit through funeral after funeral, saying goodbye to those whose lives he'd been responsible, to them men and woman who had been his family.

Gabby glanced up as Boden walked into the room. "Is everything okay?" she asked. Of course, she knew that nothing was okay, but that wasn't truly what she was asking. She knew whoever Boden had been talking to was from the CFD, and what she really was asking was what they'd wanted. Surely they wouldn't come to the hospital now to talk to Boden about the incident, would they? She hoped not. She hoped that CFD brass would be better than that.

"That was our chaplain and Brett's fiancé, Kyle Sheffield," Boden informed them. "Or he was the chaplain. He had just announced that he was taking a new position in Indiana the morning before the fire."

"Brett's engaged to the chaplain?" Mills asked. He felt a stab of regret at how much he'd missed of his friend's lives. He hadn't even realized that Chaplain Orlovsky had retired.

"They got engaged that morning," Boden confirmed. "Brett will be moving back to Fowlerton with him. Or," he sighed, "that was the plan. So much has changed now."

"So he'll be doing the funerals?" Gabby asked, feeling a pang of sadness that it would be someone who barely knew those they'd lost who would be overseeing the final goodbyes to them.

Boden shook his head. "That's what he came here to tell me; Chaplain Orlovsky has agreed to perform them. He flew in from Florida this morning."

Gabby nodded, relieved. The funerals would be difficult enough; the thought of someone who hadn't known them standing in front of the church talking about them had made her uncomfortable. "Antonio will be arriving tonight," she stated. "He wanted to be here for them."

"Mom and Elise will be here for the memorial," Mills informed them. "They wanted to be here for the funerals, but they couldn't afford to be away from the restaurant for that long.

"The city is expecting firefighters from across the country to come in for the funerals and memorial. I'm sure there will be many familiar faces in the crowd among them," Boden replied. "The city of Chicago is preparing to say goodbye to its heroes."