#casey fic

By now, she knew every member of Casey’s and Severide’s crews, as well as the paramedics. But around twenty people were a real crowd for her - too much of one, to be honest. A splitting tension headache after two mere hours was all but guaranteed. Multiple conversations, underlined by music. A bunch of people she barley knew. No escape. That scenario would usually serve to send her running in the opposite direction and staying away until it was all over.

The answer lay in a pair of sky-blue eyes. A killer smile. And a voice she now wished she’d had the power to say “No.” to. Matt Casey had helped her out over and over again with her failed investment of a house. Last week, he had mentioned that he wanted to organise a party for his people who had the bad luck of catching the New Year’s Eve shift with him.

The next words out of her mouth had been, “If you give me a list of things needed, I’ll organise everything. This is such a lovely idea!” “Are you sure? We’re talking around twenty guys, so lots of food and drink,” Casey had asked. Instead of backing off, like she really should have, she reassured him, “Absolutely! After everything you’ve done for me, I’m glad to get the chance to help you out for once.” Which was true enough. He had fixed all the major issues as quickly and cheaply as possible. A number of his guys had pitched in to assist their lieutenant on several occasions as well.

So, she did owe him, Severide, and their crews for making her home liveable without letting her go bankrupt in the process. There was also the small issue of her unrelenting crush on Casey. And her too-active imagination. “Okay, then I’ll send you a text with what I think we’ll need later tomorrow,” he had agreed, with clear relief.

This was how she ended up standing in front of the bay doors with Casey’s truck loaded full of food, drinks, and party decorations. Of course, Casey called everyone over to help with unloading, unpacking, and setting up. Thanks to common sense seemingly prevailing in the majority of the city’s population for once, 51 actually got to enjoy their treat.

Severide made everybody holler by challenging Mouch to stay off the couch—at least during January—as a New Year’s resolution. Mouch countered that he’d do it as long as Severide would bench-press Chief Boden ten times during each shift. Needless to say, the chief shot that idea down quickly by asking, “Really, Mouch?” while lifting an eyebrow. That led to plenty of good-natured jokes and a fair amount of ribbing thrown around.

During this, Herrmann asked her, “How come you bought that house? From what I’ve heard, it’s quite the fixer-upper. Were you planning on marrying a handyman?” She was caught off guard, feeling slightly attacked by such a blunt question in front of the entire station. But thanks to her boisterous family, she was quick to strike back. “Sounds like a solid plan! Thanks for the suggestion. Care to recommend any candidates while you’re at it?” Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t outdone so easily. “Well, I’m sure Casey wouldn’t mind...” “Herrmann, let’s not go there.” Casey cut in. Balling her out. “Anyone else up for a refill?” Severide pitched in, holding up a bottle of Coke and effectively ending the exchange.

Since alcohol was out of the question, it didn’t get as loud and chaotic as she had feared. Still, around ten o’clock she was dragging her feet. Rolling her shoulders. Ready to head home. But she drank some Coke and managed to put a convincing smile on her lips for the next two hours.

By midnight, everyone headed up to the roof to watch the fireworks and toast to the New Year. It was a clear but cold night, and the view from the rooftop was stunning. After about fifteen minutes of enjoying the city skyline illuminated by the changing lights of the fireworks, she started to feel the frost in the air.

She wrapped her arms around herself. Tucked in her hands. Pulled up her shoulders. She wanted to get back inside and head home. “Hey, are you cold?” Casey appeared in front of her. “A little. The view from here is stunning, though. I’m going to head home soon in any case.” Whatever her lieutenant had been about to say was cut off by the alarm. “Engine 51, Truck 81, Ambulance 61, Squad 3 - structure fire, 2001 South Michigan Avenue.” “Damn, we have to go. Please don’t leave before I get back! I haven’t even had a chance to thank you yet.” He called over his shoulder, already in motion. You really should have said no then, but instead your subconscious answered, “Okay, sure. I’ll get started on cleanup.” One last look from Casey. Then he was gone. You were left alone on the roof, fireworks still going off around you.

You had to admit; this New Year’s Eve was a new experience—and not a bad one. It wouldn’t make the top of the list of accomplishments for 2025, but it definitely made the top five.

Credits:

Header by: @desimarie12

Dividers from: @cursed-carmine

Notes: