The same pale glow that woke Street that early morning had kept filtering into the room from the big window all day. A positive feeling had woken up inside him, too, but that was a sensation that lasted only a few hours. Only until his physician, Max, had come with his new PT schedule.

Despite being already tried by the morning session with Max, that afternoon, Street expected Leon anxiously. All those new exercises for his upper muscles —hands, arms, chest, and upper back— while he still could not force too much on the lower back or legs, proved harder than expected.

That struggle, as it was the new norm for him now, had led the nurse to administer Street an extra dose of morphine. Exhaustion and painkillers caused him to nap for the majority of the day, so when he opened his eyes to his therapist, Street was still a little cloud-minded.

"Ready for our session, Jim?"

Street blinked a couple of times to adjust to the afternoon sun that now brightened the room. An odd sensation of lightness pleased him as he inhaled deeply. Perplexity cleared his head; he didn't recall the nurse or the therapist removing the back-brace from him. "Would it make any difference if I say no?"

"I consulted with Max earlier. He said you had some difficulties accomplishing your PT today," Leon said, disinfecting his hands before touching his patient. "Let's see if I can do something for you, alright?"

While the therapist helped him laying on his stomach, Street utterly exhaled. "Are you gonna do the same thing you did yesterday?"

Leon rubbed his hands together. "A more intensive back and leg massage and a little longer ultrasound session."

When the man laid his hands on Street's shoulders and made the gown to slide open, Street stiffened. "Then you can't do anything good for me."

"I know that adapting to this kind of therapy can be quite unpleasant."

If he wasn't holding his breath, Street would have snorted at the statement.

"But I assure you," Leon continued, "that all this pain you're feeling is necessary for you to overcome a full recovery. You'll see the benefit very soon. And now try to relax," he said, pressing a little harder on the center of Street's back.

Street shivered for a shockwave crossing his spine. His vision clouded, and he shut his eyes, hardly holding back a cry. When did they go from 'pain is bad for your recovery' to 'pain is necessary for getting better'?

"And keep breathing," Leon added.

The torture seemed to be going on forever when, finally, the therapist moved down to massage Street's legs. The manipulation felt more comfortable, but still not entirely painless. Street focused on his breathing, and in less than he expected, Leon was ready to move on to the ultrasound therapy.

Unlike the day before, Street knew what was ahead of him, and for that, he didn't look forward to this second session with the machine.

Leon passed the instrument on Street's skin, the light pressure, despite being gentle, caused a sting to extend back and forth his back. The tool, now nicely warm, was going to heat up quickly, Street anticipated, and not in a pleasant way.

Soon enough, the hot sensation, initially concentrated on the site of the lesion, spread to his whole back. Sweat drops multiplied on Street's forehead, armpits, and chest while every muscle in his body contracted. Gradually, the temperature raised, and the contact of the instrument with the skin became hard to bear.

"We're almost done," Leon encouraged him. "Don't forget to breathe, Jim."

Street concentrated on counting the seconds between exhaling and inhaling, again and again, until the therapist was done with the hell machine.

Leon rested a hand on Street's shoulder and bent to face him. "Talk to me, Jim. How are you doing?"

"How do I look to you?"

Leon smiled. "Sticky."

With the little energy he still had, Street smiled back.

"Ready to roll on your side? You know you can't lay on your stomach for too long."

As Street nodded, the therapist gently helped him turn, and soon, he was facing the door.

"You did good today. I don't know what Max was talking about earlier," Leon smirked while starting to put his tools away. "Or maybe it's just my presence?"

"That's because you always do all the work," Street let out in one breath.

"What? No, you did great! I know all this it's not easy to bear and to reward you, if you promise to stay very still, I'll recommend the nurse to let you keep the brace off for the next hour."

"That'll be—" a shiver crossed Street's body, and he had to fight not to move. "That will be terrific."

"That's a deal then!" Leon smiled widely, turned, and headed toward the door. Then, without looking back at his patient, he said, "I'll send in a nurse to take care of the residual pain. See you tomorrow."

Street breathed deeply. He knew what the therapist meant: painkillers. And at the moment, he hated but yet loved the idea so much...

... ... ...

The endless shift was finally over. Chris had been waiting to go see her best friend all day. Her desire grew that late morning when Tan and Deacon stopped by the hospital after questioning an informant nearby and came back to her with upsetting news.

They had found Street deep asleep, and the nurse had explained to them what a hard time their friend was having with the new phase of his rehabilitation program. At that report, 20-Davids had looked at each other, eyes full of ache and pity.

The night was falling. Nonetheless, the heat of the day had not yet totally dissipated, making Chris and Tan experience a little shiver entering in the air-conditioned hospital.

They silently walked down the hallway, both trying to prepare themselves to the sight of their friend and wishing he would be happy to see them.

Nurse Lily crossed her look with Tan. "You're already back."

"Yeah, Street was pretty messed up when I left him earlier. I couldn't go to sleep without checking on him again."

Chris shifted nervously and jumped in their talking, "Any changes after the new approach of therapy?"

The nurse shook her head while her full lips curved in a condescending smile. "It was only one session. You can't expect a miracle from it."

"Yeah, I know..." Chris sighed.

Tan insistently scanned the nurse. "Is there something wrong?"

A compassionate look drew on Lily's face. "Jim was experiencing some severe back pain after the last rehab session, and we had to increase the painkillers' dose."

The two cops glanced at Street's room. The thought of how much their friend kept suffering was hard to bear.

"Thank you," Tan said. "Can we see him now?"

"Of course, but I should warn you," Lily leaned toward them and lowered her tone. "Jim's having a funny reaction to the extra dose of morphine I just gave him."

Chris's eyes flashed at Tan, then the two rapidly greeted the nurse and went toward Street's room. A funny reaction was better than seeing him whining in pain...

When the two SWAT got in, they found their friend laying eyes closed with a little grin on his face, still marked by the exhaustion of the day.

"Hey." Chris advanced cautiously. "Street, are you awake?"

"Chris?" Street narrowed his eyes. "Hey, Chris…" He reached his hand out for her to grab.

She approached the bed and promptly took his hand. "Yeah, it's me."

Street locked eyes with her and whispered, "I love you."

Chris's heart stopped; her cheeks burned, and while Street tightened the grip on her hand, she tried to loosen it. He was smiling, lost in her eyes, but Chris rapidly glanced at her back to see if Tan had heard those words. He did, his stunned and embarrassed expression said it all.

Before any sound could come out of Chris's mouth, Street's eyes shifted from her to his other teammate, and he continued, "Tan, oh, I love you, too, my man!"

Tan grinned, shaking his head while Chris's chest felt suddenly lighter. It was not that kind of love; she relived in a loud sigh. That was surely not the time to talk about feelings. Actually, it never was the time to address that kind of emotions. Not between the two of them.

Street closed his eyes again. "I love you all! I love Deac, and Luca, and— and— Hondo, and—"

"Oh, yeah, the nurse was right," Tan smirked. "He is high as hell."

"And Hicks, I love Hicks, too…" A ridiculously gracious smile cracked Street's face. "Tell him I said that," he muttered. "You are my family! I love my family…"

"Yeah, okay, man." Tan gently patted Street on the upper chest, beaming widely. "We love you, too."

Chris couldn't do better than stand there silent, still paralyzed for what had just come out of Street's mouth. When he said he loved her, she had no trouble believing it, and that terrified her. She could not afford that kind of love from him.

Street now laid quiet, eyes well closed. "Can I have an ice-cream now, mom?"

Chris and Tan's eyes met; he shrugged. Yes, he is high, no doubt on that, they silently acknowledged.

"Street, it's us. You're in the hospital, remember?" Chris kindly said, closing her other hand on their already gripped ones.

"I can't have the ice-cream, then?" Street's puppy eyes looked up at his friends.

"Oh, I think you already had your sweet for today," Chris said, making Tan chuckle.

"Sweet! Sweeeeetttt..." Street giggled. "What a funny word, swwweet!"

"Oookay," Tan shook his head fondly. "We'd better go now."

Street kept softly giggling until Chris felt his hand losing the grip on hers, and he gradually abandoned himself to the dreamland.

"This was so weird," Tan admitted.

Chris could barely look at him.

"Well, at least he was happy. It's more than we can say he was the last time I saw him," Tan said, trying to match Chris's concerned eyes.

"Do you think he will recall anything from tonight?" she asked, looking back down at the sound asleep Street.

"Yeah, not a chance. He was really out of state."

"Good," Chris whispered.

Their eyes dwelled on their injured friend, then they both got out and left him to his peace.

Walking through the hallway with Tan at her side, Chris hoped she had not blushed too evidently at Street's words. She could not forget how she felt when he pronounced those love words, and she could not wipe his smile off her mind. Even though it was drug-induced, it was still a heartwarming smile.

"You think he will handle the therapy tomorrow?" Tan said out of the blue. "I mean, without ending up like this every night..."

Chris froze. She hadn't thought about tomorrow yet. "I can't see why not." She lied. "It's only his first day since he got back the sensation in his legs, right? The nurse said to give him some time."

"Yeah, I hope so" —Tan jumped in his car and waited for Chris to settle in the passenger seat— "I hated seeing him as we saw him earlier."

While Tan buckled up, Chris stood silent; her heart ached for her best friend.

... ... ...

The darkness of the night filled every corner of Chris's bedroom while she laid in her bed, not able to fall asleep. Street's words echoed in her head. "I love you," he had said. Alright, he was high on morphine, and he had said he loved literally everyone, but still, those words made her feel something.

She was always careful to never stop to think about Street's advances during the first few weeks they worked together. Chris didn't date cops, she made it clear to him. And he knew exactly why because she had told him everything. She always told him everything. Their friendship had grown so much since that first weird period of adaptation they had, and now nothing could break that. Plus, she had things slowly developing with Ty and Kira at the moment, so they have been over that phase. Case closed.

And yet, Street's words wouldn't stop resounding in Chris's head and bouncing inside her chest. Putting aside the fear, she couldn't help but feel relieved. It had been a while since the last time she saw Street so relaxed and happy. She knew it was for the drugs, but after the last few days, they had to take what they got.

Drugs... The sudden thought of Street's mother popped in Chris's mind. Street was not like her, and anyway, Chris would never let him fall into her habits. He was stronger. And he wasn't taking drugs for fun; he was taking painkillers to heal.

Street must heal. He needs to come back to the team; the whole squad needs him back. Chris sighed, staring at the ceiling of her room. She needed her best friend to be like himself again.

Those thoughts accompanied her restless night until the following morning.

... ... ...


Author's note: Thanks for sticking around.

I need to put in a little disclaimer, I'm clearly not a medic. I'm aware the ultrasound therapy doesn't work precisely like that, I just exaggerated the reaction from what I recalled when I had ultrasound therapy on my ankle.
Also, I never tried morphine, nor drugs, nor met anyone high. I know that it was some silly behavior for Street, and that probably a little shot of painkillers don't give you that, but as the nurse said, he was having a funny and unusual reaction that particular day.

About the love words... it is not a secret for anyone who watch the show how much Street is fond on his newly found SWAT family. The love is real, and that is true for any kind of love you want to believe there is between Street and Chris (I remind you that this story takes place around mid-season two, so no canon awkwardness had happened at this point between them). I know what my heart tells me about the direction I want to take, but the story has it's own life, and I don't know yet where it will go (I don't want anyone to feel deceived on purpose).

Anyways, now Street has more important things to deal with. Tough things... Stay tuned.