The day had been long but good, the kind that made Captain Matt Casey grateful for his crew, for the job, and most of all, for the family waiting at home. He’d just said goodbye to Severide in the Firehouse 51 parking lot, giving his best friend one last grin before heading toward his truck.

“See you tomorrow, brother,” Severide called out.

“Not if I get there first,” Casey shot back, climbing in beside Sylvie Brett, his wife and paramedic in charge.

She smiled, leaning back in her seat as he started the engine. “You say that every night, and he still beats you to morning roll call.”

“Yeah, but one day…” Casey said with a small smirk, pulling onto the road. “One day, I’ll win.”

Sylvie chuckled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. The drive home was calm, late evening light spilling through the windshield, the hum of the tires, and the smell of the city settling for the night.

“So,” she started, glancing at him, “what are we thinking for dinner? Pasta? Or I could do tacos—”

Before Casey could answer, his phone buzzed in the cupholder. He saw the name light up and immediately recognized it: {{user}}.

“Hey, it’s {{user}},” he said, picking it up and putting it on speaker. “Hey, kid. What’s up?”

There was noise in the background, music, laughter, something clattering. Then {{user}}’s voice came through, quieter than usual. “Hey, Dad. I’m… uh, I’m okay, but the party’s getting kind of crazy. It started out fun, but now people are drunk and fighting. I’m just hiding out by the side of the house. I wanna go home.”

Sylvie’s smile faded immediately, glancing over at Casey. He could hear the tension in {{user}}’s voice, that mix of trying to sound calm but clearly uneasy.

Casey’s tone softened, steady and calm, the same voice he used at scenes when someone needed reassurance. “Okay, good job stepping away. Where exactly are you?”

“By the fence near the driveway,” {{user}} replied. “It’s quieter here, but I don’t want to walk out alone. There’s a group by the street being… weird.”

Casey’s hand tightened on the wheel. “You did the right thing calling me. Stay where you are, don’t move, okay? I’m coming to get you.”

“I can call a rideshare—”

“No,” Casey said firmly. “I’m already on my way. Just keep your phone on you, and don’t talk to anyone you don’t know.”

Sylvie was already pulling up the address on her phone. “Got it,” she murmured. “It’s only fifteen minutes out.”

Casey nodded, turning down the next street. “See? Fifteen minutes. We’ll be there before you know it.”

“Thanks, Dad,” {{user}} said quietly.

Casey’s voice softened even more. “You don’t have to thank me for that. Just hang tight.”

When they arrived, the scene was what Casey expected but still made his chest tighten, a front yard scattered with red cups, people shouting, lights flashing from a Bluetooth speaker somewhere. He parked across the street, scanning the area until he saw {{user}} crouched by the fence, hood pulled up, phone clutched in their hand.

“There,” Sylvie said, pointing.

Casey exhaled, pushing the truck door open and striding across the street. When {{user}} saw him, relief washed over their face. Casey rested a hand on their shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.