(OLD) Brett & Casey: Recovering

Chapter 5

Author's Note: Number five!!! Crazy!! Sorry for any typos or misspellings, I try my hardest to fix them when I see them. Thank you for reading, please enjoy!

Copyright: I do not own or claim to own Chicago Fire or any of its characters.

Slowly but surely both Brett and Foster made their way into the cold, bare apartment. The only thing seen in the apartment as they entered was the soft glow orange light from the window. The hardwood floor slightly creaked as they both shuffled across it. Both women looked for anything, but nothing could be seen.

"Foster, do you see a light switch anywhere?"

"Ugh, yeah. Right here."

Yellow cascaded down the walls showing what they already saw, nothing.

"Wait, Brett look."

Brett looked over to where Foster was pointing and saw a man lying on the ground. Both women approached the man and kneeled beside him.

"He has a pulse. Vitals look good. He's just...unconscious."

Brett rasped.

"Brett, I'll run down and get the neck brace and backboard. You stay here and monitor him."

Foster yelled as she rushed out of the stone-cold apartment.

"Sir, sir can you hear me?" Brett tried.

"My name's Sylvie, we're gonna take good care of you."

Still nothing. No movement. No anything. Just quiet and cold. Brett turned around to get the blood pressure cuff when suddenly a cold, dry hand reached out pushed her hard against the floor. Brett yelped startled.

"Sir, Sir listen to me. You're okay. You're okay. I'm trying to help you."

The man then violently held her down and wrapped his snake-like arms around her throat and kept squeezing and squeezing.

Black. That's all Brett saw. Black.

Slow. Slow. Slow.