#sick!casey

[whumpkeys]

Day 10: “Pull over.”

“Oh god. Pull over,” Casey mutters, shielding his eyes from the flashing light of the CPD cars up ahead.

“What?” Otis asks, glancing at his captain as he pales in his seat.

“Pull over. Now!”

“What? Why? What’s going on?”

“Otis, I swear to god if you don’t pull over right now, I’m going to puke all over this truck and YOU will be cleaning it!”

Nodding, Otis flashes the lights twice and moves to pull over when Casey doubles over, slapping a hand over his mouth as he gags. Casey gags again, feeling the warm bile making its way up his throat.

“Otis!” Casey growls.

“I’m trying!” Otis tells him, trying to merge into the other lane. Someone in a white Ford cuts them off and Otis slams on the breaks.

The jolt of the rig causes Casey to pitch forwards, vomiting onto the dashboard. There’s shouts of disgust from the back of the truck as Casey heaves, last night’s spaghetti and meatballs splattering against the dashboard, chunks of vomit landing on the windshield.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Otis curses, hurrying to pull over into the other lane.

“Otis! Pull over! What’s taking so long?!” Kidd yells from the back seat, turning around.

“I can’t! We're in the middle of the road, Kidd! There’s like three lanes in between us and the side of the road! I am trying my fucking best so can you calm down?!” Otis snaps, regretting it immediately when Casey shoots him a look.

“Fine. Don’t know why I’m bothered anyways. Captain already said you would be cleaning it,” Kidd huffs.

“Otis, pull over. Kidd, turn around. Both of you, shut the fuck up, okay?” Casey shouts, swallowing another gag.

“Sorry Captain.”

[whumpkeys]

Day 1: Motion Sickness

“Hey, Captain?”

Casey looks up as Otis knocks on the door, a bowl of popcorn in his hand.

“We’re putting a movie on if you want to watch,” Otis informs him. Casey looks hesitant so Otis adds, “We have popcorn.”

Casey shrugs, setting aside his paperwork and following Otis to the living room and plopping down on the couch in between Severide and Boden. Somebody hands him a metal mixing bowl full of popcorn and he puts it in between on the edge of his lap, in between him and Severide.

The movie starts and they watch it in silence, the sound of chewing popcorn the only exception. It’s about twenty minutes into the movie when the scene changes to a roller coaster scene, the camera diving in and out of black tunnels with a dizzying speed. Casey watches, his head spinning and his stomach turning as the camera follows the coaster down a spiraling path. The camera drops suddenly and that’s all Casey’s stomach can take.

“Pause it,” he orders, quietly. Nobody moves. He yells louder, “Pause it!”

There’s a scramble for the remote and a few seconds later, the movie is paused and Casey had his head between his knees, trying to breathe through the nausea.

“Case? You ok?” Severide asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. Casey doesn’t say anything, instead making a waving motion with his hand.

A few seconds later, Casey loses the battle with his stomach and lunges for the popcorn bowl, gagging.

The first wave of vomit splashes into the bowl, coating the leftover popcorn in his stomach acid and half digested food. He stays over the bowl for a few minutes, his stomach teetering on the edge.

Casey lifts his head after a few minutes to find everyone staring at him.

“Urgh, sorry. The camera was just,” Casey explains, making a dizzying motion with his hands.

“Ey, no problem, Captain,” Herrmann says, slapping him on the back. Immediately Casey pitches forwards again, scrambling for the bowl. Herrmann grimaces, apologizing.

“Let’s put something else on. Independence day?” Severide suggests, having watched it with Casey multiple times before. Everyone’s in agreement so they pop it in, Severide getting up quickly to dispose of Casey’s bowl and grab him a Gatorade.

[whumpkeys]

Day 9: Embarrassed

Casey hops out of the rig, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach as his feet touch the ground. He was nearly certain that the nausea had nothing to do with the call at hand.

“Captain! There’s somebody trapped in the car!”

Duty calls. The nausea could wait.

~~~

Three hours later and they were nearly finished. All the victims were on their way to the hospital and CPD was currently investigating the empty beer cans in the passenger seat of the blue Toyota.

The nausea, which had been forgotten during the call had since returned with a vengeance, ready to make Casey's life that much harder. With a low groan, Casey wraps an arm around his stomach, cautious of the crowd watching them. He doesn’t get to dwell on it for very long before he finds himself doubled over, vomiting onto the ground and missing his boots by mere inches.

“Hey, Cap. You okay?”

Casey shrugs whoever’s hand is on his shoulder off as another wave of vomit makes its appearance. He can hear the comments and speculations of the crowd.

“Oh gross.”

“Is he drunk?”

“Ew!”

“Oh shit. Wouldn’t want to be him.”

“Alright! Enough!” Severide shouts, glaring at the crowd. The crowd looks down in shame, shuffling their feet. Casey chokes back a strangled sob, tears of embarrassment making their way down his face.

Severide stands behind Casey, a hand on his shoulder, as the blond struggles through another round of vomiting.

“Adrenaline crash?”

“No. I’ve been feeling like shit all day,” Casey tells him, trying to wipe the tears away.

“Think you’re sick?”

“Probably. I didn’t have a chance to get my flu shot yet.”

“Matt!” Severide scolds.

Casey shrugs, his stomach feeling slightly better.

“You done?”

“Urgh. Yeah,”

[whumpkeys]

Day 3: Self Induced

Casey leans over the toilet, gagging. His stomach had been turning for the better part of the day and he had headed to the washroom when the nausea had finally spiked. He had been kneeling in front of the toilet for the better part of the hour, just trying to bring up anything so his stomach would stop turning.

He leans against the wall of the stall, stuck in his own personal hell until he hears somebody opening the door. Casey stays silent, praying that whoever it is won’t notice and he won’t be sent home. Whoever it is finishes their business and starts washing their hands. They’re just about to leave when Casey’s stomach twists, sending him lurching over the bowl with a loud gag.

He doesn’t bring up anything but whoever it is stops nonetheless as Casey curses himself. They knock on the door of Casey’s stall.

“Hey, are you ok?” They ask and Casey realizes that it’s Severide. He doesn’t answer, trying to figure out how he can get away from this.

“Fine. I’ll be back,” Severide promises.

Casey relaxes slightly as he hears Severide’s footsteps leaving, the door closing behind him. His stomach twinges again and he sighs, leaning his head against the side of the stall.

Wanting to get out of the bathroom before Severide comes back, Casey sticks his fingers in his mouth, pulling them out as he gags. Nothing comes up and he tries it again, sticking his fingers in deeper. Again, nothing. Trying once more, Casey sticks his fingers as far as he can and keeps them in even after he feels his stomach crawling up his throat.

He quickly takes his fingers out as he finally throws up, vomit spraying from his mouth and into the toilet. His stomach rebels again, sending him lurching over the toilet. Somewhere in the background he could hear footsteps coming closer.

“Hey, I’m back. Open up, I’ve got some water,” Severide tells him. Casey doesn’t say anything, still leaning over the toilet as his stomach spasms. He coughs up a few more mouthfuls of bile before his stomach settles somewhat. Casey looks at his vomit covered hand in disgust before Severide's voice rings through the empty room.

“If you don’t open the door, I’m kicking it down,” Severide threatens and Casey sighs, unlocking the stall door. Kelly steps into the stall, a bottle of water and some advil in hand.

“Casey?!” He exclaims, shocked.

Casey nods as Severide shakes off the shock and hands him the bottle. Casey takes a sip to rinse his mouth out before taking a drink.

“How long have you been sick?” Kelly asks, crouching on the floor beside the captain.

“Been feeling like shit the whole day,” Casey tells him, reaching up to flush the toilet and stand up.

Severide grabs him around the waist, helping to support his best friend as he makes his way to the sink to wash his hands.

“You know I’m going to tell Boden, right?”

“Yeah…”

Casey leans over the toilet, gagging. His stomach had been turning for the better part of the day and he had headed to the washroom when the nausea had finally spiked. He had been kneeling in front of the toilet for the better part of the hour, just trying to bring up anything so his stomach would stop turning.

He leans against the wall of the stall, stuck in his own personal hell until he hears somebody opening the door. Casey stays silent, praying that whoever it is won’t notice and he won’t be sent home. Whoever it is finishes their business and starts washing their hands. They’re just about to leave when Casey’s stomach twists, sending him lurching over the bowl with a loud gag.

He doesn’t bring up anything but whoever it is stops nonetheless as Casey curses himself. They knock on the door of Casey’s stall.

“Hey, are you ok?” They ask and Casey realizes that it’s Severide. He doesn’t answer, trying to figure out how he can get away from this.

“Fine. I’ll be back,” Severide promises.

Casey relaxes slightly as he hears Severide’s footsteps leaving, the door closing behind him. His stomach twinges again and he sighs, leaning his head against the side of the stall.

Wanting to get out of the bathroom before Severide comes back, Casey sticks his fingers in his mouth, pulling them out as he gags. Nothing comes up and he tries it again, sticking his fingers in deeper. Again, nothing. Trying once more, Casey sticks his fingers as far as he can and keeps them in even after he feels his stomach crawling up his throat.

He quickly takes his fingers out as he finally throws up, vomit spraying from his mouth and into the toilet. His stomach rebels again, sending him lurching over the toilet. Somewhere in the background he could hear footsteps coming closer.

“Hey, I’m back. Open up, I’ve got some water,” Severide tells him. Casey doesn’t say anything, still leaning over the toilet as his stomach spasms. He coughs up a few more mouthfuls of bile before his stomach settles somewhat. Casey looks at his vomit covered hand in disgust before Severide's voice rings through the empty room.

“If you don’t open the door, I’m kicking it down,” Severide threatens and Casey sighs, unlocking the stall door. Kelly steps into the stall, a bottle of water and some advil in hand.

“Casey?!” He exclaims, shocked.

Casey nods as Severide shakes off the shock and hands him the bottle. Casey takes a sip to rinse his mouth out before taking a drink.

“How long have you been sick?” Kelly asks, crouching on the floor beside the captain.

“Been feeling like shit the whole day,” Casey tells him, reaching up to flush the toilet and stand up.

Severide grabs him around the waist, helping to support his best friend as he makes his way to the sink to wash his hands.

“You know I’m going to tell Boden, right?”

“Yeah…”

[whumpkeys]

Day 5: Bad Timing

“Hey, Captain? You ok?” Herrmann asks when Casey stops suddenly, leaning on the burning wall for support. Casey barely has time to rip his mask off before he’s throwing up, vomit splashing the ground.

“Chief! Casey’s sick,” Herrmann says into the radio.

“Get him out of there!”

“You got it, chief.”

[whumpkeys]

Day 2: Just In Time

“Hey Case, you feeling ok? You’re looking pretty pale,” Severide observes. Casey lifts his head from where it’s lying on the table and shrugs.

“I don't feel too well,” Casey admits. Severide frowns, glancing around the station. Most of the crew was clearly eavesdropping, looking away when Severide turns his gaze towards them.

“Are you going to puke?” Severide whispers. Casey hesitates before nodding his head once.

“Alright, let’s get you to the washroom, buddy.”

Severide grabs Casey by the arm, leading him towards the washroom. Casey slaps a hand over his mouth, swallowing a gag. Cursing, Severide pushes him towards the washroom quickly.

He shoves Casey through the door of the washroom just in time for the blond to throw up, leaning over one of the sinks.

“You know what,” Severide remarks. “I’m going to take this as a win.”

[whumpkeys]

Day 4: Big Mess

“Everyone ready?” Otis calls from the front seat of the bus.

Everybody yells back affirmatives and they set off for their destination. Their destination being a team building exercise that the department had decided was mandatory after the commissioner had visited the station the other day to see Severide and Casey going at it, both bruised and bloody and screaming at each other.

Boden had managed to convince the department to rent them a coach bus so here they were, on the way to some sort of forest for a camping team building exercise.

The ride was uneventful, both officers sitting in the front two seats peacefully, until an hour into the drive when Severide had muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?!” Casey had asked, putting his book away to glare at Severide.

“Guys,” Herrmann warns.

“You heard me,” Severide snaps back.

“No I didn’t. That’s why I’m fucking asking.”

“I said that you were an idiot. Guess I was right,” Severide smirks. Casey launches himself at the lieutenant, both of them throwing punches at each other despite Boden and Herrmann yelling at them to stop.

Boden finally grabs Casey around the waist, dragging him away from Severide. Severide immediately jumps up, punching Casey as he tries to escape from Boden’s hold. Herrmann grabs Severide’s arms and pins him against the bench.

“Both of you! Enough! Severide, front seat! Casey, back! Go!”

Severide grumbles something about being treated like children and Boden turns to glare at him.

“If you don’t want to be treated like a child, don’t act like one!”

The next hour passes, mostly uneventful. Squad had moved up to the front to be near Severide and truck had moved back with Casey and Boden.

Herrmann was the first one to notice something wrong with Casey, Boden noticing shortly after. Both fathers recognized Casey expression and posture for what it was - carsickness.

“Casey? Do you need us to pull over?” Boden asks, moving to sit beside him. Casey hesitates for a few seconds before nodding. Boden stands up, intending to tell Otis to pull over, when Casey doubled over quite suddenly, slapping a hand over his mouth as he gags.

Boden puts a hand on Casey’s shoulder as he looks around frantically, trying to find something to prevent a huge mess.

“Hey!” Herrmann calls up front. “We need a bag or something back here!”

“What’s going on?” Otis yells back.

“Captain’s going to puke,” Herrmann warns.

There’s muffled cursing as everybody searches for a plastic bag or a bin or something. Casey pitches forwards again, vomit spilling from between his fingers and pooling on the floor. Boden quickly moves his feet and puts a hand on Casey’s back, rubbing it as the captain loses whatever contents were previously in his stomach prior. He lurches forwards again, vomiting into his lap, the puke dripping down to coat his shoes.

By the time he was finished, vomit was all over his hands, lap and his feet and had even covered the floor and bench.

“Holy shit,” Herrmann breathes, poking his head over the back of his seat to take in the mess. That’s all it takes for Casey to start sobbing.

“It’s ok, Matt. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s ok,” Boden says, pulling Casey into an awkward side hug, being careful not to make more of a mess. Otis pulls the bus over to the side of the road so they can clean up. Staring at the giant mess, Boden wonders where the hell they should start.

[whumpkeys]

Day 7: No Warning

There was no warning. One second, Casey was joking around with the team and the next, he was doubled over, puking all over his boots.

“Shit!” Otis exclaims, racing to pull over. As soon as the truck is stopped, Casey throws open the door, leaning over the side to vomit.

Casey finishes relatively quickly and closes the door again. He shifts his feet, cringing at the feeling of vomit.

“You okay, Captain?” Otis asks.

“Just drive.”