sweet nothings (stris)

now at last the worst is over (reel against your body's borders) (post 5x09)

Hello! Thank you for checking this out, I hope you enjoy it! This fic is set immediately post 5x09 "Survive."

Warnings/tags: hospital, mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort

-x-

"Really, Deac, I'm okay. Street will be here in a few minutes with my truck, and he's going to stay overnight to make sure everything is good, which it will be. Go home, be with Annie, and give everyone my love." Chris's hands play with the thin blanket on top of her as she looks Deacon straight in the eye. The day's events in Langford are still only a few hours old, so she understands and appreciates his worry, but she also knows that she's fine. Cuts and bruises, a sprained knee, cracked ribs, and a concussion are all things she's dealt with before, and she tells Deacon as much, which makes him crack a small, wry smile despite himself.

"Okay. But please call if you need anything." He leans down and kisses her forehead, a move she'd usually wiggle away from but accepts gratefully given the circumstances. Heading out, he throws one last comment over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't worry about primping too much for Street, he likes you either way."

With that, Deacon walks out, leaving Chris with her shock. She isn't surprised he noticed, he's always been able to read her better than the rest of the team, but she doesn't like it, either. Whatever this thing is between her and Street is just that, a thing. An amorphous, ever-present Thing that is going to turn into Something at Some Point. And she has no idea what she's going to do when it does, so she chooses to ignore it, badly, instead.

Luckily, she isn't mired in her thoughts for too long before she's jolted out of them by a soft knock and the door squeaking open. Street smiles at her, bag of clothes in hand, and she swears she feels her heart skip a beat; the heart monitor doesn't seem to pick it up. He walks to the bed and sits the bag down on the foot of it, pulling out shorts, a tank top, and a zip-up hoodie.

"Do you need me to grab a nurse?" He asks, turning towards the door, "I know those leg braces can be a bitch."

Chris, however, is already shimmying the shorts over her bruised legs. She pulls on the rest before taking off the hospital gown through gritted teeth. The act exhausts her, and she leans back onto the pillows before exhaling heavily and reaching over to hit the call button.

"It's fine, Street. And you can turn around. Like I told Deacon, it's not my first rodeo. I just need them to unhook me and to sign the paperwork, and then we're good to go." She says with a closed-lip smile, unconsciously tapping her fingers to dispel her nervous energy. Just being alone with Street in the same room shouldn't cause her stomach to feel like it's full of butterflies, but it does. When he takes another step towards her, heat builds up in her cheeks that she hopes he can't see.

"By the way, my apartment is pretty devoid of groceries at the moment. So if we could stop somewhere, I'd appreciate it, unless you feel like playing chopped in my kitchen." Street finally cracks a real smile, not one shadowed by worry or doubt, as he plops down in the chair next to her.

"Sure thing. I can call in something at the sushi restaurant down the street, if you want?"

Chris nods with a yawn. In the same moment, the nurse enters and begins to remove Chris's heart monitor.