When it comes to the world of One Chicago, few things stir as much buzz as the crossovers. For years, NBC has marketed these event-style episodes as must-watch television: characters from Chicago Fire, Chicago P.D., and Chicago Med colliding in one shared storyline, packed with explosions, shootouts, rescues, and shocking cliffhangers. On paper, it’s television gold. In reality? Not every crossover has lived up to the hype. Some have become fan favorites, endlessly rewatched on streaming platforms, while others have left audiences frustrated, confused, or even downright angry.
Behind the flashy promos and adrenaline-pumping storylines lies a darker truth: some of Chicago Fire’s most hyped crossovers spiraled into messy storytelling, broken character arcs, and controversial behind-the-scenes choices that fans still debate today. It’s a reminder that in television, even the most carefully orchestrated events can go wrong—and when they do, the backlash is just as explosive as any firehouse rescue.
The question we need to ask is this: why do some crossovers soar while others sink? And more importantly, what went so wrong in the episodes that were meant to be Chicago Fire’s crown jewels?
The appeal of a crossover is obvious. Viewers get to see their favorite characters interact outside of their usual sandbox: Voight’s brooding intensity colliding with Casey’s calm leadership, or Severide’s daring heroics intersecting with the surgical precision of Dr. Rhodes. It creates a sense of scale, making the One Chicago universe feel truly interconnected. Fans call it the “Marvel effect” for network television—a sprawling shared world where every show feeds into the other.
But unlike Marvel movies, TV crossovers come with tight schedules, network pressures, and the challenge of balancing multiple casts at once. And when those pressures boil over, cracks start to show. Storylines become rushed. Characters feel out of character. Fan favorites get sidelined. And sometimes, the hype itself becomes the show’s worst enemy.
Take, for instance, the infamous 2017 three-show crossover that kicked off with Chicago Fire. Billed as one of the most ambitious events in NBC history, it was supposed to be a thrilling ride spanning fire, crime, and medicine. What fans got, however, was an uneven mix of melodrama, plot holes, and what many critics at the time called “chaotic writing.”
For Chicago Fire fans in particular, the episode was frustrating. Instead of focusing on the firehouse team, the plot twisted itself into a police-driven investigation that left the firefighters feeling like secondary characters in their own show. Fans on social media didn’t hold back. “It felt like Chicago Fire got hijacked by P.D., and I hated it,” one fan tweeted. Others complained that storylines they had been waiting weeks to see—like the growing tension between Severide and Casey—were shoved aside in favor of new characters from other shows.
This isn’t just nitpicking. When loyal viewers tune into Chicago Fire, they expect their show. They expect the emotional pull of Station 51, the camaraderie, the firehouse drama. When a crossover forces them to watch Voight interrogate suspects for half the runtime, it breaks the immersion. It doesn’t feel like Fire anymore—it feels like a marketing gimmick.
And here lies the dark truth: not every crossover is made for storytelling. Some are made for ratings.
NBC has long known that crossovers are ratings magnets. Throw the casts together, promote it heavily, and casual viewers will tune in, even if they don’t regularly watch all three shows. But when story takes a backseat to spectacle, quality suffers. Actors have hinted at this tension too. In past interviews, cast members from Chicago Fire admitted that crossover filming was some of the most grueling work they did, juggling multiple directors and competing scripts. “You don’t always feel like your character is getting a fair shake,” one actor reportedly said off the record.
This issue became painfully clear during the 2019 infection crossover—one of the most polarizing in One Chicago history. The storyline centered around a deadly flesh-eating bacteria spreading through the city, a concept that sounded thrilling on paper but quickly spiraled into chaos. Critics pointed out glaring inconsistencies: characters making illogical decisions, medical science stretched to cartoonish levels, and once again, Chicago Fire firefighters being pushed aside to make room for medical staff and police drama.
For many fans, it wasn’t just bad—it was insulting. “Why call it a Chicago Fire crossover when the firehouse barely gets to do anything?” wrote one angry fan on Reddit. Others mocked the episode as “a public service announcement disguised as a drama.”
But the harshest backlash came from long-term fans who felt the crossover undermined character development. Severide, usually depicted as smart and intuitive, was suddenly making reckless decisions that felt more like plot devices than authentic choices. Meanwhile, beloved supporting characters like Herrmann were nowhere to be seen, swallowed by the massive ensemble cast. In trying to juggle too much, the writers ended up pleasing no one.
And then, of course, there are the forgotten crossovers—the ones NBC hyped but fans barely remember. These are perhaps the saddest of all, because they prove that even with all the fireworks, not every event lands. Some episodes fade into obscurity, remembered only as “that one time when the shows crossed over.”
The 2015 crossover involving a case of arson linked to Chicago P.D. is a prime example. At the time, NBC plastered promos everywhere, teasing shocking revelations and “life-changing” consequences. But when the dust settled, fans were left scratching their heads. The so-called shocking revelations amounted to little more than filler, and the “life-changing” consequences were forgotten within weeks. By the next season, it was as if the crossover had never happened.
This kind of bait-and-switch is exactly what frustrates loyal viewers. They invest emotionally, they tune in with high expectations, and then they’re handed an episode that ultimately doesn’t matter. In the long run, it weakens the brand.
So what’s the lesson here? That bigger isn’t always better. That sometimes, in the quest for spectacle, Chicago Fire crossovers forget what makes the show special in the first place: character-driven drama rooted in the bonds of Station 51.
