Lady Luck, part II

[adrenalineshots]

-o-LOSING MY MIND-o-

"Eric," Boden greeted the other battalion chief as he exited his car. The place was surrounded by barely controlled chaos as firefighters, paramedics and police officers moved in an elaborate dance, as they rushed to save the people coming out of the building. "What's the situation here?"

Chief Eric Raglund, from Firehouse 65, looked at his long time colleague and friend. Usually, there would only one battalion chief present at the scene, but Eric knew perfectly well why his friend was there. He would be too, if it were his people in there. "Fire started to get into the structure after the elevator car broke down. We had to evacuate one of the men who'd been too close to the shaft when the whole thing blew out," he started. "Floors one to five are ablaze. We are evacuating victims through the windows of the eighth floor into the aerials and we have four paramedic teams with a triage post set on the other side of the street."

Boden nodded, satisfied. Raglund was a straight up kind of guy, his work ethics running along the same lines as Boden's. It was clear that he had the situation well under control.

Boden's dark eyes meandered through the victims scattered across the different triage areas in the square in front of the tall building. He tried telling himself that he was assessing the need to activate any more medical responders, but in truth he was searching for familiar faces. Dawson having called dispatch earlier, had been confirmed as being inside the building. That in itself was reason enough for him to worry. It was, however, the absence of any reference to Matt that was beginning to concern the chief.

Casey had told him about his plans for that night. He had even asked for the next shift off so that he and Gabriela could go away and celebrate. Boden could relate, hell! he had even been in the kid's shoes a couple of weeks before. So, why was there no mention of Casey being with Dawson when she called?

He couldn't see any of them amongst the sooth-covered people being tended by the paramedics, but looking across the street, he could spot a familiar looking vehicle. Matt's construction truck.

"Are all the building's occupants accounted for?" Boden asked, knowing that by now the teams would've reported a head count. "All visitors and vehicle owners checked?"

Raglund gave him a look that Wallace knew all too well. "Who exactly are you looking for? Anyone you know inside?"

Wallace looked up, studying the flames starting to breech the windows and hungrily seeking more fuel to feed. Already in a few of them he could see the smoke starting to turn darker and darker. "I hope not," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow, "because we have about five minutes before we're forced to call those men out. That smoke's gonna turn black real quick."

-o-

Herrmann took out one of his gloves and touched the metal panels on the elevator's door on the 35th floor. "Its cold enough for me," he informed the others. "Opening it now," he called out, pushing his key into the emergency opening lock.

The doors opened with a soft hiss, a faint cloud of dark smoke seeping out almost immediately. Thankful for the mask on his face that prevented him from breathing in those toxic fumes, Herrmann lay down on the floor and looked inside the elevator shaft. He could see one of wires from the broken elevator dangling in the middle of the long tunnel and the other one stiff as a rod. There had to be something on the other end of that, and he knew for a certainly that it wasn't an elevator's car. "Fire department, call out!" he yelled.

Two voices answered in tandem, making his blood run cold.

"Herrmann!"

"Help! Get me away from this lunatic!"

Dawson, coerced to be as far from the elevator doors as they could make her due to her lack of gear, jumped from her place as soon as she heard Casey's voice. "Matt!"

Herrmann stopped her from moving any closer with one look. No matter how much they both cared about the lieutenant, safety would always have to come first. Reassured that she would behave and allow them to do their job, the firefighter returned his attention to two firefighters with him, Smith and Bowman. "Get me two secure lines, now!"

He quickly took off his heavy jacket and mask, making himself as light and moveable as he could, before turning his attention back to the elevator shaft.

He peeked down, turning his flashlight on, finally getting a glimpse of the two men. One of Casey's hands was holding onto the elevator's cable, while the other was wrapped around a man's waist, fingers grasping the hem of his pants. The other guy had his arms wrapped around Casey's chest, his face white as chalk.

Accessing the situation, Herrmann quickly realized that there was no way he could simply throw down a line and hope that the lieutenant would be able to loop it around anyone. Casey was barely holding on as it was.

Herrmann would have to go down himself. "Hey, lieutenant, how're you holding up?" he called out, regretting his poor choice of words as soon as they left his mouth.

Four feet below, Matt let out a dry laugh, quickly followed by a coughing fit strong enough to rattle the metal cable.

"Sorry about that," Herrmann mumbled. "Hey, what's the civilian's name?"

The answers came once again in chorus.

"Andrew... I'm Andrew Manner."

"Andy's not a civilian, he's one of us! Our Andy"

Something in Casey's voice made Herrmann taste bile in his mouth. He wasn't sure if it was the out of place happiness or the simple longing, but something was definitely wrong. Our Andy, as 51 saw it, had died over a year ago, something that Matt was painfully aware, more so than most, since he had actually seen it happen.

"Please, please get me out of here!" Andy's voice traveled up the shaft. "This guy isn't right in the head!"

The words stung, mainly because there was no way to prove them wrong. First, however, they had to fish the both of them from that death trap.

"Lines are secure, sir," Bowman announced, hooking the yellow rope to Herrmann's security harness.

"Five minutes, everyone," Raglund's voice announced over the com. "Fire's starting to get into the structure, so if you're high up, start hauling ass right now to the exit point on 8th!"

Herrmann, poised on the edge of the elevator's door opening, exchanged a look with Dawson.

"I'm not going anywhere, Herrmann," Gabby let out before the older man could even open his mouth to tell her to leave.

"I know you ain't," he said with a sigh. "But since you're here, you might as well help. We're gonna have to pull both of them at the same time." He then turned his voice to the com., letting the chief know about the insanity they were about to try. "Chief, Herrmann here," he started, pausing to take a deep breath. This was why he had never been envious of Casey or Severide's positions. He hated having to make tough calls. "We have two victims trapped inside the elevator shaft. I'm moving in to pull them out now."

"You have under three minutes before I give the call, Herrmann," Raglund's voice sounded strained. "Can you pull them out in that time?"

Herrmann tugged on his line, making sure that it was tight. "We have to try, sir," he answered for the four of them. He didn't know those kids from 65 all that well, but he was sure none of them could turn their backs on a victim and live with themselves. "Lieutenant Casey is down there," he added.

There was silence on the other side. When the com. came to life again, the voice on the other side was a deeper tone. "This is chief Boden here," he announced, pausing for so long that Herrmann was sure he was going to order them all out of there. If it came to that, he really, really did not want to disobey a direct order, but he would.

"Do your best, Christopher."

Herrmann gave one last look to Gaby's worried face before disappearing from view down the shaft.

The distance between the two dangling men and the door opening wasn't that much, but the heat and smoke inside the small space made it look twice as long. Herrmann reached Casey first.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Herrmann," Matt let out, exhaustion making his words sound slightly slurred.

"Happy to drop by, lieutenant," Herrmann answered in good nature. He gave an appraising look at his lieutenant, wincing when he caught sight of the state of the hand Casey had wrapped around the cable. "Here, lemme put this arou-"

"Him first," Casey cut in, his voice suddenly stronger and leaving no room for an argument. "I can't hold on much longer," he added more gently.

"All due respect, lieutenant," Herrmann said as he wrapped one of the secure lines around Casey's waist anyway, "but this time around, I'm calling the shots."

With one man secured, Herrmann moved on quickly for the second one. "Hey Andrew," he called out, remembering the name the man had used. "I'm going to just wrap this rope around you and we'll have you out of here in no time. Sound good to you?"

The other man, terrified, could only nod as Herrmann made short work of wrapping the second line around him.

"Herrmann..."

The word was all but a whisper, but the experienced firefighter knew exactly what Casey was warning him about. "MAN THE LINE!" he yelled just seconds before Casey's figure went limp.

For half a second Herrmann panicked, imagining his friend and boss dropping lifeless past him into the fire. The people above, however, reacted just as fast as his warning had been shout. The line went rigid, a tug war between Smith and Dawson and the unconscious man on the other end. "Got him?" Herrmann asked.

"Got him!" Smith called from above.

"Good. You can let go of him now Andrew," Herrmann said, gently prying the other man's fingers from their dead grip on Casey's clothes. He had never been in such a situation, but he could only imagine how hard it was for the man to finally let go of the only lifeline he'd had up until now. "We got you."

As soon as Andrew let go of Casey, Dawson and Smith started pulling him up, leaving Bowman free to help Herrmann. "Okay, lets get you out of here."

Herrmann braced his feet against the wall and called out to Bowman to start pulling Andrew, while he 'walked' up the shaft and supported the victim from below. It wasn't exactly slow going, but knowing how fast they were running out of time, Herrmann felt like they were moving in slow motion. "Come on! Come on!"

-o-

Gabriela was sure her bottom lip was bloody, so hard was she biting on it. This was Antonio being shot all over again; this was déjà vu of Casey stumbling out of that burning building with a baby slipping from under his coat. And no matter how hard she told herself that emotions had to wait until she got them the help they needed, her emotions seemed to have no respect for her reasoning and ignored her all the way.

Her hands were shaking when she reached over to help slide Matt across the floor, her eyes already busy scanning him for injuries. He was a mess.

There was blood caking his forehead and his hands were swollen, fingers curled into themselves, a worrying sign of possible nerve damage. Dawson engrossed herself cataloging each bruise and scrape visible, all the while ignoring the one thing that her brain kept on screaming at her, over and over again: Matt was unconscious- Matt had another head injury- Matt could di-

"We need to move him," Herrmann's words broke through her spiraling thoughts, bringing her back to reality. She hadn't even noticed him exiting the elevator shaft supporting another man.

"What?! No!" she answered without thinking. "We don't have a neck brace, or a backboard, or even-"

"We're out of time, Gabby," Herrmann told her quietly. "Chief informed us that everyone else is out the building and..."

"And?" Gabriela pressed, even as her hands were busy pushing Matt's eyelids up and checking his pupils. They looked equal to her, but without her flashlight, it was impossible to know for sure.

Dawson tore her attention away from Matt when she realized that Christopher still hadn't spoken. She felt his hand on her bare shoulder, pulling her away.

"And... the bottom floors are completely lost," he whispered. The two firefighters with him had heard the same report on the radio as he had, but he didn't wanted for the one civilian present to panic. "We'll have to go up."

"What about the aerial?"

Herrmann shook his head. "Best those can reach is the 8th floor... too dangerous to risk it with the fire reaching the 7th already. We have no choice but to go up."

Dawson nodded, her bottom lip once more suffering the consequences of her unease. Going up meant trapping themselves inside the building, with no way out until someone could come pick them up with air support.

"How are we getting out?" the man who had been with Matt asked, obviously having listened to their whispered conversation. He looked almost as bad as Matt, with half his face bruised and blood soaking his left leg from knee to ankle.

"Can you walk on that?" Dawson asked, kneeling down to have a better look. Through the tear in the jeans she could see layers of muscle ripped open in a gash about two inches long. Fortunately for the man, since she had no supplies with her, the wound was already clotting on its own.

"I just wanna get out of here," Andy let out, exhaustion in his every word. "I'll walk wherever you need me to walk, just as long as it's away from this damn place and that guy!" he said, pointing out towards Casey.

Gabriela frowned, wondering what the hell was that guy's problem with Matt.

"Chief," Herrmann called out on the com. "we have two injured victims with us. We'll be needing an exit point on the roof," he informed grimly.

The pause on the other side was ominous. "Copy that, Herrmann," Raglund said after a beat. "We'll let you know as soon as rescue is in place."

Herrmann took a breath, his eyes covering the group of people with him. "Alright!" he called out, taking charge. "Smith, you take point. Dawson, you help Andrew up those stairs. Bowman, you and me will carry the lieuten-"

Gabriela's gasp stopped Herrmann from saying anything else.

"I can walk."

-o-

Slowly, Matt's battered body realized that he was lying down, no longer suspended from an impossible height, supporting both his weight and the responsibility of keeping another human being alive.

The 'why's and 'how's of what was going on and how that had come to happen weren't all that clear but he couldn't make himself worry about any of that at the moment. There was a soft hand in his and, even without opening his eyes to check, Matt knew with all the certainty in the world that it was Gaby's.

Herrmann's voice was echoing somewhere in the background, the words jumbled and losing sense every now and then. He was talking about moving somewhere else, about moving him somewhere else.

His hand clutched Gaby's as he opened his eyes. The emergency lights were on, a dim lit glow that made everything look unfocused and pasty. "I can walk," he blurt out, no pause to consider how his head was killing him, no moment to doubt if he could even stand.

Even though he wasn't certain of what the situation was, Matt knew that something serious was going on and that Herrmann was there to get the job done. Why he wasn't wearing his gear was something of a mystery, but the strong sense of urgency and the feeling that something was terribly wrong that had been with him ever since he regained consciousness were awfully familiar.

"Matt!" Gabriela let out, her hand moving from his to touch his face. Her fingers felt cold against his skin. "How're you feeling, babe?"

"I'm good."

The automatic answer didn't seem to convince or impress any of the people present who already knew Casey.

"Yeah, I bet you are," Herrmann voiced, the sarcasm in his words coming out loud and clear. He picked up his mask and handed it to Gaby. "We need to get moving. Stick close to my tank and use this mask on him if he needs it, okay? Let's get him up and moving!"

Gabriela nodded, taking one side as Herrmann took the other. "Nice and easy, okay?" She whispered in Matt's ear before pushing up. Between the three of them, they managed to get Matt up straight.

Casey closed his eyes tightly, fighting the urge to vomit, as all the blood seemed to rush out from his head.

"Matt? Matt, you with us?"

Matt squeezed Gaby's shoulder, not trusting his voice just yet. When the feeling of having his head filled with nothing but rustling wind abated somewhat, Matt risked opening his eyes again. "Hey, guys... where's Andy?" he asked with a frown. "Didn't you guys pulled him out?"

Five pairs of confused eyes stared at him. Matt resisted the urge to call them all idiots, because while they stood there looking puzzled, Andy was still in that elevator shaft.

Matt took one step towards the elevator's doors, resolved to check for himself, only to have Gaby and Herrmann restrain him. He looked at his girlfriend pleadingly, failing to understand why she was fighting him on this. She knew Andy. She knew how important the man was to Casey. "Gaby..."

"Babe, Andrew is right there," she voiced, her eyes tearing up as she met his gaze. "Is that who you're talking about?"

Matt followed Gaby's head nod. There was a man being supported by a firefighter, his left leg in the air, small droplets of blood falling to the floor. He had never seen either man before. "No! I'm talking about Andy! Our Andy! I can't believe you just left him there!"

"Told you," Andrew let out. "Fucking crazy!"

-o-

-o- Science and fiction -o-

Gabriela wiped the tears from her eyes angrily. The mental confusion allied with the obvious head injury made it impossible for her to keep denying the obvious. Matt's brain had been compromised. Again.

She felt like kicking something, hard. It seemed like the Universe had waited until the two of them were together to do its best to pull them apart by killing Matt, and that was so unbelievably unfair that she couldn't even believe it. It was too cruel, to show her a glimpse of true happiness only to snatch it away.

"Matt, honey, Andy Darden has been dead for over a year now," she said quietly, taking hold of his hands. They felt sweaty and cold, alarmingly cold for the temperature that was starting to build up on the floor they were. "You went to his funeral, you took care of his kids when Heather was in prison. Do you remember all that?"

The look of lost and confusion in Matt's eyes broke her heart. "He's not down there?"

"No, you lunatic, the only one down there with you, was me!" Andrew yelled, his face red. "I could've died in there, following the instructions of a guy who isn't right on the head!"

"Shut up!"

"Enough of that!"

Dawson and Herrmann looked at each other as they spoke in one voice, both having realized what was really going on and what that guy was clearly missing.

Dawson took a step away from Matt, hopeful that he had lost the willingness to jump back into that hole in search of a ghost, and walked to Andrew.

Inside her mind, Gabriela was reminding herself that Andrew did not share the same medical knowledge she and the firefighters were obliged to possess, that he was far from knowing the kind of man Matt was, and how much he did not deserved what was happening to him.

She reminding herself that it would do them no good if she chewed the civilian's head off for the idiocy he was spewing out of his ignorant mouth because he had no idea how much it hurt to hear him speak like that of someone like Matt. "Sir," she started quietly, pausing for a breath. "That man over there is suffering from a head injury, one that might be serious if you are telling us that he has been confusing you for some other person or talking with someone who wasn't there. So," she paused again, her hands turning into fists as she realized how bad the facts sounded when she put them into words. "So... we are going to start moving and you are going to tell us everything that has happened since you two stepped into that elevator ride, so that I can better assess his injury, okay?"

Andrew, who had grown red in face as soon as she had mentioned 'serious head injury', could only nod.

"Good... so, start at the beginning."

-o-

Severide had received at least four different calls alerting him that, no only was there a big fire in one of Chicago's tallest skyscrapers, but also that two of his best friends were probably amongst the victims. Dawson and Casey seemed to have a grim propensity to find the worse possible kind of trouble, even when they were off duty. What other couple could manage to get involved in a terrorist bombing attack and a major fire, all in the same year?

By the time he had parked his car and raced to where he could see Boden, Severide's mind had already gone through every possible and catastrophic scenario. They had been 'lucky' with the hospital bombing, with Dawson having suffered nothing more than a mild concussion. Luck, however, was something that had a tendency to run out.

"Chief!" he called out, his heart clotting his throat and making it hard to voice what he needed to know.

"They are alive," Boden answered, guessing the pleading question in Severide's blue eyes. "Herrmann called in that they managed to pull Casey and another man from the elevator shaft and that Dawson is with them."

Severide sighed in relief before he registered the lack of the same sentiment in the chief's expression.

"What's wrong?"

Boden nodded to the building behind them. Even through the water canons, blasting at full power, it was easy to see the monster of a fire consuming the building from the lobby up to the 8th floor. Heavy black smoke was starting to come out from most windows up until the 30th.

"Ventilation opened on the roof?" Kelly asked, getting a confirming nod from the older man. "Where are they now?"

"Last report we had from Herrmann, they were reaching the 37th."

"That smoke is black, chief," Severide pointed out, even though he knew Boden was well aware of that fact. "It's gonna backup on them, heading straight to the vent."

"I know," Boden said solemnly. "Herrmann is aware of that as well, but their only shot is to try and make it to the roof, otherwise they are left with no exit point."

Severide stared at the blazing fire for a few seconds, his eyes reflecting the red flames. When he finally blinked, there was a steel determination in his gaze. "There is another way."

-o-

"Everyone, stop!" Herrmann called out, his free hand in the air. "Be quiet!"

The group slowly moving behind him froze in place, leaning against the wall, trying to catch their breath. It was getting harder to breathe, the smoke eating away at their oxygen before they could use it to feed their starving lungs.

Every one of them, except for Andrew, knew the danger of what they were doing and knew exactly what Herrmann was listening for. Every couple of floors, he would stop to do the same.

It was basic fire behavior 101. Trapped inside a closed space with fast heating air, the fire would look for the closest available source of oxygen. In general, that would be the security vent created by the firefighters to drive the fire path as far away from their location as possible.

The problem was, the current fire path was also their only way out.

Experienced firefighters will tell of how they can hear the fire 'talk' before it makes a move. Sometimes it's a growl louder than most, other times it's nothing but a moment of silence before all hell is unleashed.

Herrmann thought that was all a load of crap.

Fire breathed and moved like an oily snake, but it had no tongue to speak. He'd learned to predict the fire by watching it carefully, by trusting his knowledge and instincts.

He had been seeing the signs for a couple of minutes now. The rolling flames chasing after them in the stairway were getting lower and starting to crawl, the air was growing heavier and still and the hairs at the back of his neck were standing at attention like it was parade day.

He looked at their group, trying to guess how fast they would be able to take cover when that back draft came for them. Andrew was keeping up better than he had expected, his movements hindered by a leg he couldn't use but still maintaining a good pace with the help of Smith. After Dawson had explained to him what was going on and they had listened how the lieutenant's quick thinking had prevented them both from falling alongside the elevator's car into their deaths, Andrew had channeled his contempt and anger towards Casey into actual concern for the man.

Casey, hanging all but limply between Herrmann and Bowman, was the one who worried him the most. At first, Dawson had insisted on helping the lieutenant up those stairs, but as they progressed, it became clearer and clearer that Casey had been too optimistic in his claim that he could stand and they had been too much in denial to expect him to pull miracles out of his as-

The point was, as Casey started carrying less and less of his own weight, Dawson had been forced to admit that she couldn't keep him up and had switched places with Bowman.

The lieutenant wasn't looking so hot, as far as Herrmann could tell. His eyes were open, but so glassy and unfocused that it was anyone's guess if he was actually seeing anything. And he kept mumbling to himself, sometimes nothing but nonsense, sometimes sweet nothings that everyone was sure were meant for Dawson's ears only, even when Bowman replaced her.

Herrmann had a sudden sense of dread seconds before he felt the odd rush of air coming up the stairway. "Everyone, TAKE COVER!" he yelled, thanking the good Lord above that they were standing near the door to the 40th floor and not the middle of the steps.

He held the fire door open, shoving all the others inside before jumping in after them. The intense fire that suddenly exploded into life in the exact same place they had been half a second before, banged against the fire door like it was politely asking for them to open.

Leaning against the door, fearful that the power of the back draft they had just escaped would push it open, Herrmann surveyed the ragged group in front of him, coughing and wheezing on the floor.

Smith and Bowman had followed his example and had long started to share their oxygen supply with Dawson and Andrew. In result, they were all suffering from smoke inhalation, but they could still breathe.

Andrew was laying down on his back, his chest heaving despite the fresh oxygen being provided by the tank. His leg had started bleeding again, but no one, including Andrew, seemed to have noticed it.

Dawson, face covered in sooth just like the rest of them, was sitting on the floor, Casey's head supported by her legs. The lieutenant's eyes were nothing but slits of blue in his face, and despite the fact that they were all but sitting in darkness, he still tried to hide his face in Dawson's chest every couple of minutes. Every time he did, Gabriela would whisper an apology and push his face away, struggling to keep the oxygen mask secured over his mouth.

"We're not gonna make it to the roof, are we?" she whispered, her eyes never leaving the man on her lap.

Herrmann rubbed his short hair sturdily. It had been an insane risk to use that staircase before. Now that the fire had found its way to a fresh supply of air, it would be suicide. Staying there, however, tasted of giving up. "There has to be another way," he mumbled, more to himself than the others.

If there was one, though, he sure wasn't seeing it. "Let's move away from this door," he said instead. The metal was starting to heat under his touch and he was sure that fire door wouldn't last much longer.

With a collection of groans and pained moans, the group slowly got to their feet again, moving deeper into the 40th floor.

In the spot where Casey had been lying down, a small white box was left abandoned on the floor. No one but Andrew seemed to noticed.

-o-

"You sure this is going to work?" Boden asked, trying to keep his bubbling hope from reaching his voice. If there was someone capable of imagining an insane rescue plan and with the skills to pull it off, that someone was Kelly Severide. This, however, sounded like it was verging on the edge of science fiction rather than ingenious.

"It's their only chance, chief," Severide assured the older man as soon as he closed his phone. "My buddy says that he'll be here in ten minutes."

Just as he finished that last word, the massive explosion of fire bursting through the roof of the building made everyone jump and run for cover. A dangerous rain of broken glass and burned metal fell down like, a massive volley of flying projectiles from a firing squad up above.

"Herrmann! Herrmann, please respond?!" Boden called on the com. as soon as the air seemed safe enough to open his mouth. "Herrmann, report!"

"Still here, chief," Herrmann's rough voice sounded after a bit, punctuated by harsh coughs. "We're trapped on the 40th floor."

Severide exchanged a meaningful look with Boden. "Tell them to stay put," he said, racing to his car. "Tell them we're coming to them!"

-o-

"What does he mean, 'coming to us'?" Smith asked. He sounded truly curious, not knowing Severide well enough to either believe or doubt the man's words. The fact remained that they were stuck in the middle of a burning building with zero chances of moving up or down without roasting alive and no rescue protocol he'd ever heard of provided contingency plans for that.

The oxygen tanks were all but depleted, everyone deciding unanimously that whatever was left should be saved for the most serious of the injured, just in case.

Lieutenant Casey had lost consciousness soon after they had chosen that particular office to make their last stand. It didn't bode well for his head injury that he had become completely unresponsive, but then again, Smith doubted that any of them would be alive to see the next hour.

The smoke was becoming increasingly intense, even laying low as they were, and it would be a question of minutes before the fire made it to them.

Smith looked longingly at the wide windows surrounding the corner office. If push came to shove, he would have serious doubts on whether he would stay put and burn alive or just jump to his death. Forty floors up, he would be dead from asphyxiation long before he hit the ground, a much kinder death than fire.

When the first glare of light hit him in the eyes, Smith thought he was imagining it. Looking closely, he could see that the intense lights belonged to an helicopter, flying just outside the windows. 'News reporters', he thought with disdain, imagining that they had come to film their demise to feed their audience.

"What the hell is that?" Herrmann asked, slowly making his way closer to the window. On the side of the helicopter, rather than a news' cast emblem, he could see the letters SAR written in white on the fuselage.

When he turned to look at the others, no one could miss the huge smile spreading through his face. "Ladies and gents, the cavalry is here!"

"Search and Rescue?" Dawson asked, peering outside as well.

"Coast Guard, I would say, from the colors on the chopper," Bowman pitched in.

"Care to let us in?" Severide's voice broke through their coms. "We're kind of in a hurry to put this bird back before anyone notices it's gone."

"Break those windows!" Herrmann said, moving to help Smith and Bowman smash the glass on the large panel windows right in front of the static helicopter. Seeing the straight ladder that helicopter was carrying, Herrmann had a good idea of what Severide had in mind.

Insane didn't just quite cover it.

-o-

-o- FLY AWAY -o-

This was the kind of rescue were so many things could go so terrible wrong that Severide decided that there was no point worrying about any particular one.

He had met Bobby years ago, in a course of sea rescue hosted by the Coast Guard. Bobby had been the pilot assigned to their class, flying them in and out of the rescue drills.

Up until the moment he had met Bobby, Severide had no idea that a chopper could become such a static object in the sky without simply dropping down. He had heard of some of the stunts that rescue pilots pulled on the job, everyone had heard about those stories. Bobby, however, had managed to turn helicopter piloting into nothing short of an art form. When he said the helicopter would remain static, it meant that you could balance a beer bottle on the tip of the bird and not spill a thing.

So, if there was someone that Severide trusted implicitly for what he was about to do, Bobby was the guy.

Everything else was up for grabs.

There was the fact that the hook ladder needed to be perfectly secured on both ends, the chopper and the window edge. The slightest movement on either side and the ladder would become unstable and fall.

The whistling of the wind, at four hundred feet high, was hard enough to be heard over the helicopter's paddles. Standing by the door, Severide watched the ladder in his hands shake and quiver as the strong winds passed it by, both the ones that naturally occurred that high up, plus the ones the hovering helicopter was causing. Even though it as made of steel, Kelly knew that standing on that ladder, under those conditions, would feel like crossing a rope bridge over the Grand Canyon.

He knew that, despite the risk, Herrmann, Smith and Bowman would be up to the task. Dawson was a tough woman, and in any other situation Kelly would put as much faith in her as he did on the rest of the firefighters, but Matt was seriously hurt and Kelly knew how much that would impair her judgment. Still, he had faith in their tough little paramedic.

It was the civilian and Matt who Kelly was most worried about. The first one because he had absolutely no training and no idea of what to expect once he got on that ladder, and Matt because of his condition.

Severide had been there, in that ambulance, when Matt had started seizing after his initial brain injury. Despite the fact that it was something that he had witnessed countless times before, the sight of Matt's eyes rolling inside his head as his muscles started contorting like rubber bands, had been one of the scariest things he could remember seeing. If the same thing happened now, when they were pulling Matt across...

Kelly shook his head and focused on what he could control. Bobby had taken the chopper as close to the building as the paddles would allow him. Looking up, Severide figured that Bobby had probably gone a step beyond that, because he could swear there was less than a foot between the rotor's blades and the building's surface.

Severide quickly tied three ropes and a backboard to the ladder and started pulling. Right in front of him, less than ten feet away, Herrmann was waiting to receive his slowly extending ladder.

"Get us down about two feet," Severide instructed over the headset, seeing that the ladder would be coming too high for Herrmann to secure it to the window.

With surgical precision, Bobby maneuvered the chopper down until the end of the extended ladder hit the window ledge. Herrmann gave him a thumb's up before turning to head back inside.

-o-

Dawson wasted no time releasing the backboard from the ladder and placing it next to Matt. "Smith, give me a hand here," she called out.

Gabriela lost herself in the familiar motions. Waiting for the other man to tilt Matt's body, slipping the hard board underneath him, placing and securing the straps, those were all procedures she had done a thousand times. As long as her hands were busy and she kept her focus on Matt she wouldn't lose her mind second-guessing the sanity of what they were about to do.

As she and Smith got Matt ready for transport, Bowman and Andrew were already on top of the ladder, getting ready to be the first ones across.

They were taking as many precautions as possible, under the circumstances, but to her trained eye, the harness and rope they were securing to themselves still made the whole thing look like a leap of faith, held by nothing but spit and a prayer.

The idea of sending Matt on to that ladder, strapped to a piece of plastic, across an abysm of hundreds of feet, made her stomach twist and burn.

"Dawson, you're next," Herrmann's voice cut through her thoughts. When she looked up, Bowman and Andrew were already inside the helicopter, safe and sound despite the odds her pessimist kept warning her about.

"I'm crossing with Matt," she said, putting her foot down.

One look at Herrmann's soot-covered face, however, told her that this was a battle that she could not win.

"You know I can't do that, Dawson," he said, the empathy in his voice telling her that he was being truly honest. "Smith will get you across and I'll make sure that the lieutenant gets to you safe and sound, okay?"

Dawson nodded, her face pale with worry and fear. Deep inside, she knew Herrmann was right. If anything went wrong while pulling Matt across, he would be better suited to handle the situation. Her gut, however, also told her that if anything were to go wrong, there wouldn't be much Herrmann would be able to do, even though he would try to the end. And she would be helpless, watching as both her lover and a good friend fell to their deaths.

Gabby gave Matt a quick kiss on the lips, telling herself that this wasn't goodbye. "See ya on the other side," she said with a faint smile that was too weak to hide the glint of tears in her eyes.

-o-

Herrmann was praying under his breath as he watched Dawson and Smith make their way into the chopper. So far everything was going textbook prefect, which meant that his legendary bad luck should be striking any minute now.

Taking no risks, Herrmann made sure that all the straps were secure and in place before placing the oxygen tank between Casey's legs. The lieutenant's breathing had gained a shallow quality about it that was ringing alarm bells in his gut. "Okay, pull him in," he spoke into the radio, giving Severide a thumb's up.

The backboard started sliding effortlessly across the ladder, their sizes made completely compatible precisely because of these situations.

The hard board, however, wasn't strapped to the ladder in any form or else they would not be able to move it.

Herrmann was mostly worried about the wind. From where he was standing, near the edge of the window with his feet planted on top of the ladder, the wind was strong enough to almost push him back inside the office. Less than a foot away from him, there was also the helicopter's blades tunnel wind to consider, adding to his concern.

He kept his eyes glued to the backboard's slow progress, looking for any sign of it flipping up and being dislodged from the ladder by a gush of wind.

So, when the backboard actually started to move, it took Herrmann a couple of seconds to realize that the culprit for the sudden and dangerous motion wasn't the wind at all but Casey himself.

"Stop! He's seizing!" he yelled over the radio, even though it was clear to see from the look of panic in Severide's eyes that he was already aware of the fact.

With one last look to make sure that ladder's hooks were well secured, Herrmann wasted no more time. He started making his way towards Casey, eyes focused on the man rather than on the floor, hundreds of feet below.

The sound of the hard plastic of the backboard banging against the metal ladder became Herrmann's sole focus. He had to make that noise stop; he had to make sure that Casey stopped moving so that Severide could pull him in the rest of the way.

The helicopter was so close, like a giant carrot waiting to take them to safety.

Without any meds on his gear, Herrmann did the only thing he could when he reached Casey. He threw himself over the other man, his hands and boots serving as anchors to keep the both of them on that ladder. "Now would be a really good time for you to stop doing this, lieutenant," he grinded through his teeth.

The seizure went on for what it felt like forever. Despite all of his heavy gear, Herrmann could still feel the lieutenant's muscles underneath his body, alternating between being tense as rock and limp as noodles.

"Chris!"

Herrmann looked up, his jaw hanging open as he saw Dawson standing right in front of him. How on earth had she convinced Severide to let her out of the chopper again? "Dawson? What the hell!?"

The paramedic, holding on precariously to the ladder with one hand, held a loaded syringe in the other. "Midazolam. Jam it right in his tight," she instructed, too far to be able to do it helself.

Herrmann took the auto-injector and, going by touch, did as she told, instinctively trusting her judgment in all medical matters.

At first, nothing happened. He risked a glance down, wondering if he had missed the lieutenant's leg altogether or if maybe the clothes Casey was wearing were too thick and the needle hadn't reached skin at all...

"Give it a few seconds," Dawson said, guessing the doubts in his look. Even holding on for dear life in a metal ladder hundreds of feet from the ground, watching as her boyfriend seized, she was in her element, her comfort zone.

As soon as she had spoken those words, Herrmann could feel the beginnings of some change in Casey's convulsing body. The big, sudden movements became smaller and smaller until all he could feel coming from the body underneath him were some fine tremors.

"Let's get him out of here," he said, meeting Dawson's determined stare.

-o-

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