What if she goes out with a friend one day and then she feels a bad flare coming on. She ends up calling 911 because there's no way anyone could get to her fast enough. 51 shows up and she ends up clinging to Kelly for comfort because she's scared and a bit panicky. She won't let him go until they get to med and Will and Connor are there. Kelly ends up deciding to hang out with them for a while at least til she's stable because he was worried too.
You Called the Right One
Summary: A fun afternoon turns serious fast when Y/N feels a flare coming on while out with a friend. Alone and overwhelmed, she calls 911— 51 arrives. Kelly is the first one to her side, and she doesn’t let go. Not until Med, not until Will and Connor. And even then, he stays. Because sometimes, family wears turnout gear.
Y/N hadn’t expected to feel this okay. She hadn’t expected to have enough energy to laugh over overpriced iced coffee or meander through the artisan market two blocks from the waterfront without that familiar pull in her gut warning her she’d pushed it. Her body had been giving her more grace the past week—pain lower, nausea managed, vitals playing nice for once. It was a rare kind of relief.
But flares didn’t ask for permission.
She was halfway to the parking garage after hugging her friend goodbye when it hit. A sharp twist deep in her abdomen, then the familiar hollowed-out dizziness, the feeling like gravity itself had tilted. Her vision blurred around the edges, heart pounding fast and uneven. She stumbled, catching herself against a brick wall, breathing hard.
Her watch buzzed violently against her wrist.
HR: 143. BP: 82/55. Oxygen: 93%.
“Flare suspected. Hydrate and sit. ALERT SENT.”
But there was no one nearby.
Connor was in surgery.
Will had a full clinic block.
Ava and Hannah were across town at a gynecologic oncology conference.
She had no choice.
With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and hit the medical alert shortcut Connor had helped her set up weeks ago.
911. Medical emergency. POTS flare. Alone. Chest pressure. Rapid heartbeat. Risk of syncopal episode.
She gave the address, then slid down the wall, arms wrapped around her knees, forehead against brick, trying to breathe.
She heard the wail of the sirens before she saw the engine.
Truck 81. Squad 3. Ambulance 61.
“Coming through—female, mid-thirties, conscious, vitals sent via smart device.”
Y/N blinked up at the figures in navy and yellow turnout gear. And then she saw him.
“Kelly…”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Kelly Severide said, kneeling instantly at her side. “You did good. I’ve got you.”
She didn’t answer with words—just reached, gripping the front of his jacket with shaking fingers.
“Vitals are on the tablet,” she mumbled. “It’s in the—watch sent it…”
“We got it,” he said, glancing at the paramedics who were already opening a bag. “Connor trained us up, remember?”
Her pulse thudded painfully in her ears, nausea rising with the heat. “Can’t—feel my arms.”
“You’re just crashing a bit, alright?” Kelly said, voice low, steady. “But we’re going to Med. I won’t let go.”
And he didn’t.
Not in the rig, not when her BP dropped again mid-transport, not when she slumped hard against his chest with a whimper. She gripped his arm with both hands, knuckles white, breath shallow. He just kept talking to her softly, grounding her.
By the time they wheeled her into the ED bay at Med, Will and Connor were both waiting, badges out, scrub tops half untucked. Both of their faces shifted into sharp concern when they saw how tightly she clung to Kelly.
“Hey, we’ve got her,” Will said, stepping in on one side.
But she didn’t loosen her grip.
“Not yet,” Kelly murmured, quietly enough for the brothers to catch it. “She’s scared. Just let me stay for a minute.”
Connor nodded once, already pressing a cool hand to her forehead. “Y/N. Hey, sweet girl, I’m here now. We’re all here.”
She blinked sluggishly, then finally loosened her hold enough for Will to help transfer her to the bed. The paramedics rattled off her vitals—unstable but not crashing. Severe flare, triggered hard, vitals fluctuating.
Kelly stepped back, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watched Will place the leads, Connor draw labs, and a nurse start fluids. Ava appeared moments later, scrub cap still on, Hannah behind her. The familiar circle.
“She’s gonna need antiemetics, fluids, maybe a vasopressor if her pressure keeps dropping,” Ava murmured, already reaching for the med cart. “This hit hard.”
Kelly nodded, glancing between them all. “She knew. She called fast.”
Connor looked up at him for the first time. “Thank you for getting to her.”
“She asked for me. I think she saw me first.”
Connor’s eyes softened. “Of course she did.”
A few hours later, she was stable again. Oxygen off. Still pale, still quiet, but resting.
Kelly hadn’t left.
He sat in the chair beside her bed, fingers drumming against his knee until she stirred slightly.
“Hey, firecracker,” he said gently.
She cracked a smile. “You didn’t leave.”
“Told you I wouldn’t. And your husband would’ve chased me down with a scalpel if I broke a promise.”
She let out a tiny, tired laugh. “You’re a good one, Kelly.”
He shrugged, gaze softening. “You’re family. That means we show up—even when you don’t want to call.”
Connor came in a few minutes later, fresh scrubs, clipboard tucked under one arm. He looked between them, then smiled just slightly.
“She’s cleared to go home in a few hours,” he said. “But only if I carry her out.”
Kelly grinned. “Deal. But I get to make her pancakes tomorrow.”
“Only if they’re gluten-free,” Connor quipped.
Y/N exhaled, eyes fluttering shut again. “Boys?”
“Yeah?” they answered in tandem.
“Thanks… for everything.”
And between them, neither would let go again.
I know they both looked pissed off in the gif but it’s only good one I could find 😂😂😂