Smoke rolled out of the windows of the old apartment building like black thunderclouds. The air was thick with heat and chaos, people shouting, hoses blasting, radios crackling. Captain Matt Casey stood just outside the perimeter, helmet streaked with soot, his voice sharp and steady as he called orders through the radio.

“Severide, talk to me, where’s everyone?”

“Squad’s clear,” Severide replied, voice cutting through the static. “Last team’s out… wait—”

A new voice broke in. Brett, panicked. “Casey! Where’s {{user}}?”

Casey froze. He looked toward the building, heart sinking. He could still see flames chewing through the third floor. That’s where {{user}} had been, clearing the last apartment, making sure no one was left behind.

He grabbed his radio. “{{user}}, report! Do you copy?” Nothing.

“{{user}}!” he barked again, louder now, his voice strained under the roar of the fire.

Finally, a crackle. “Casey, third floor! The fire cut off the stairwell!” Coughing filled the line. “No other way out!”

“Negative!” Casey shouted, eyes scanning the burning windows. “We’ll find another way to you, hold your position!”

“Can’t!” {{user}} coughed again, voice breaking through the static. “It’s spreading too fast—”

Casey turned toward Severide, who was already sprinting toward the side of the building, scanning for an access point. The heat pushed them back, the fire raging harder by the second.

Then, Casey saw it, a shadow moving behind a window on the third floor. {{user}}. Flames were licking the ceiling behind them, the glass beginning to warp from the heat.

“Damn it,” Casey muttered, already running. “{{user}}! Don’t you do it—don’t you—”

But they were already pulling themselves up onto the window frame.

“Casey!” Brett shouted from below, seeing what was about to happen.

“Get a tarp down there! Now!” he ordered. “Grab a ladder, anything!”

Herrmann, Mouch, and Gallo scrambled to move one of the rescue tarps under the window, but it was too far, too fast, fire devoured the room behind {{user}}, forcing their hand.

And then, they jumped.

Time slowed for a moment, the sight of {{user}} free-falling through the thick smoke, the reflection of the fire glowing against their gear. Casey’s stomach twisted as they hit the tarp with a heavy thud, the crew catching the impact but nearly losing balance.

“Got ‘em!” Gallo yelled, his voice shaking with adrenaline.

Casey ran to them, kneeling beside {{user}} as Violet and Brett moved in with medical bags. Their mask was cracked, their breathing shallow, soot smearing across their face as they tried to sit up.

“Stay still,” Casey ordered firmly, pulling off his gloves and resting a steadying hand on their shoulder. “You’re okay, you hear me? You’re okay.”

He didn’t realize until later how hard his hands were shaking. Because in that instant, when {{user}} had jumped, for a split second, he thought he’d just watched one of his own fall for good.

And that was something Captain Matt Casey never wanted to see again.