You had been sitting by Shay’s side for hours. The machines around her beeped steadily, the soft hum of the ICU filling the silence. It had been a long, exhausting few days, but she was finally stable. For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself breathe easy. Shay was going to pull through.

Severide was at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed, but he wasn’t as calm as he appeared. He kept glancing at the machines, his eyes flicking to Shay as if to reassure himself that everything was still okay. You knew he felt the same weight of the last few days, the uncertainty hanging over him like a storm cloud.

You were just about to say something, maybe offer him some words of encouragement, when the alarm went off.

A high-pitched, rapid beep, an unmistakable sound. Your heart stopped.

"No..." you whispered under your breath.

Shay’s vitals started to spike. The heart rate monitor was a chaotic mess, the beeping becoming faster and faster. You shot up from your chair, panic surging through your veins.

"Shay!" you called, rushing to her side.

"Get the doctor, now!" Severide barked, his voice commanding as he pulled out his phone. His hands were shaking, but his focus was razor-sharp.

You looked down at Shay, her face pale, her chest barely rising with each labored breath. "Come on, Shay," you whispered, gripping her hand, your heart racing in your chest. "You have to fight."

But it felt like the world was crumbling around you. The beeping of the heart monitor grew frantic, and a knot twisted in your stomach.

"Code Blue!" A nurse shouted from the hallway, rushing into the room with a team of doctors. They began working quickly, moving around Shay’s bed, attaching more wires, adjusting the machines.

"Shay, please," you pleaded, your voice breaking. You could barely look at her, at the lifeless look on her face. But you couldn’t pull away. Not now. Not when she needed you most.

Severide stood behind you, his hand on your shoulder, but you push him off, sobbing.