Street had walked all day. He hadn't tried to thumb a lift from passing cars. He numbly walked along the edge of the road having no care what direction he was going in. He looked a mess. Covered in blood and bruises. He'd stumbled more than once. He let his mind wonder whether it was from injury, or lack of food, or water; but he carried on walking his mind over playing every detail of the last couple of days wondering what he could have done differently.

He was punishing himself, mentally and physically. She had pushed him away and he couldn't see a way back to her. The crazy thing was that he was sure he was getting through to her. That she was starting to remember how she felt. She'd never admitted it to him; but he knew. That kiss they had shared. That stupid drunken kiss, which meant the world to him, had changed everything between them. Chris had pushed him away with such force that he could only conclude she felt the same way he did. It terrified them both.

Street however was willing to risk it all for them to be together, especially after everything that had happened. He had thought he'd lost her, attended her funeral, and by some grace of god he was given a second chance.

This was his second chance, he was meant to make it better. This was going to be the time it all worked out for them and they lived happily ever after. He smudged a tear across his cheek as it fell. He'd lost her again.

'Get in,' a voice from a car spoke to him. He didn't look up just carried on walking. He just wanted to walk till he couldn't feel anymore. 'Street,' a car door slammed and black boots appeared in front of him.

He side stepped his friend refusing to stop, but a hand took hold of his arm and the fight drained rapidly from his body. Suddenly he couldn't put one foot in front of the other.

'Deac,' it was more of a sob than a word, and he felt himself drawn into the other mans arms as he realised his emotions from the last couple of days.

Deacon man handled him into the passenger seat of his SUV and joined him on the other side. Once they were sat facing outwards both looking at the road ahead Deacon spoke:

'What happened?' he asked simply.

'She let me go,' Street had managed to pull himself together a little. He was exhausted and the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk. He needed a hot shower and bed; and food, but mostly just his bed. Everything was aching and he just hoped that Deacon would turn they key, start the car, and drive him home in silence.

'Does she remember?' Deacon looked across at Street to see him shaking his head.

'She doesn't act like Chris. It's not her anymore,' exhaustion had taken hold of Street and he could only see his own failing, writing off any progress and connection he had shared with her. Deacon sighed his hands grasping at the steering wheel. Street could tell it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

'The team are waiting for you at HQ. I radioed in when I found you.'

'Take me home.'

'We've been worried about you.'

'I'm fine. Please just take me home,' Street couldn't bring himself to argue or explain.

'You need checking out. We're going to the hospital.' Deacon seemed serious.

'No hospital. It's a few bumps and bruises. I'll live. I just need to sleep and eat before I see anyone,' Deac turned in his seat to face Street like he was about to start persuading him otherwise, but something must have changed his mind because his attention went to the key in the ignition. It was turned, an indicator flicked on, and they pulled out onto the road. Street lay his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes. It was the perfect way to shut out Deacon. It was only a minute or so before he was asleep.

Street didn't wake when the car pulled to a stop outside his house. Luca was still at HQ so it was in darkness. Deacon turned the car off and looked over to his sleeping friend. He wanted to be able to share some of his burden with him, but he didn't know where to start. Street had sounded so defeated, like Chris would never come back to them. Deacon wasn't ready to accept that. He hadn't had a chance to speak to her, he couldn't imagine another person walking around in her body.

He wasn't going to give up, and he wasn't going to let Street give up on her either. He doubted the younger man would be able to cope if they didn't find a way to get her back. They had all thought he was hanging on by a string these past five months.

There was a moan from beside him and Deacon's thoughts were broken. Street was still asleep, but his body had gone from relaxed to agitate.

'Street, we're here,' Deac put his hand on Street's shoulder bringing him out of his dream. Deacon had thought, more than once, on the drive here that he was taking him to the wrong place. He should have gone to the hospital, or HQ, or even taken him home with him; but in the end he had done what Street had asked him. You couldn't beat your own shower, or your own bed. Deac knew that for sure, and realised it would be what he wanted if the situations were reversed.

'Thanks,' Street moved to get out of the car. Deac could see how much he was hurting. His movements were laboured. He opened his own door and moved around to Street's side of the car to open his door for him. Deacon hadn't expected to beat him to opening the door. He lent in and helped Street onto his own two feet. One wobbly step later and he tucked his arm around his waist supporting him towards the front door.

'Keys under the picnic table,' Street pointed Deac in the right direction leaning up against the house for support.

'Got it,' Deac found the key after a minute of searching the underside of the table. He let them in and heard Street sigh at the sight of home. 'You shower I'll make you something to eat,' Deac helped him to the bathroom.

'Thanks,' Street turned the shower on.

'Need any help?'

'I'm alright,' Street stressed his words.

'Shout if you want anything,' Deac left the bathroom. He headed to the kitchen and started searching the fridge to see what he could make. His phone rang when he was midway between the fridge and counter top, balancing butter, eggs and milk on top of each other. He dumped them onto the counter closing the fridge door with his foot as he answered the phone.

'Hi.'

'Where are you?' Hondo asked. He could hear from the rustling that the rest of the team were on speaker with him.

'I've brought Street home. He's exhausted. He needs food and sleep, not to be confronted and questioned.'

'We're on our way,' Luca spoke before hanging up. Deac sighed looking at the quiet phone. He wanted chance to talk to Street alone, before he was overwhelmed by the rest of the team.

Deac set about making pancakes, one of his best dishes according to his kids. He listened to the shower still running and thought about his friend wondering what he had been through with Chris to come back so dejected. The stack of pancakes beside him was starting to take shape when the shower cut out.

Deacon relaxed a little as he heard Street moving around. It gave him a little reassurance that his friend was home and safe. Now they just had Chris to go.

'Those smell good,' Street leaned against the wall in the hall eyeing up the stack of pancakes beside the stove. Deac gave him a small smile as he took in his clean face. The bruises were old and new, the cut above his left eyebrow was now clean. At least it wasn't bleeding anymore. The bruising on his torso was much worse. Green, purple and blue blended across his stomach, ribs and arms. It didn't look like there was a place that was untouched. The white towel wrapped around his waist only emphasised the bruising.

'Street,' Deac started but Street cut across him tiredly.

'I'm fine. Can you grab me some clothes from my room?'

'Course,' Deac disappeared to Street's room and soon appeared with clothes in his arms. Street had moved to the sofa. Deacon dropped the clothes beside him and went to the kitchen to plate up the pancakes. Street's back was to him and he kept stealing glances at his friend struggling to get his clothes onto his body. The bruising was worse on his back and Deac could well imagine the pain he was in right now.

He searched a couple of the cupboards before finding the painkillers and placing them on the tray along with the pancakes and water. He checked Street was dressed before heading over to him. He placed the tray on the coffee table in front of him and sat down beside him.

'The team is on its way here. They needed to see you are safe for themselves.' Street looked up from his pancakes. Deac could see this wasn't what he wanted from the way Street looked at him. 'They won't stay long,' Deac tried to make it better. Street nodded before tucking into the pancakes.

Deacon let Street eat in peace. He stood and took care of the dishes, all the time keeping his eye on Street inhaling his pancakes. They were gone before Deacon had managed to get half way through the washing up. He swallowed some pain killers before yawning and hissing from the pain it had caused in his ribs.

'Street,' Luca's voice called out as the front door opened. He rushed in ahead of Hondo and Tan straight to Street's side. Hondo made eye contact with Deac and they nodded at each other. The sight of the takeout bags Tan and Hondo were carrying made him realise that he had been wrong about them not staying long. There was enough food there for at least eight.

The food bags were placed on the table and Deacon focus fell back on Street. Luca was sat beside him with his arm over the younger mans shoulders.

'We're just so glad you're ok,' Luca gushed, 'what were you thinking going after her by yourself?'

'Luca will you help me find some plates for all this food,' Deac interrupted their conversation. This wasn't the right time for it. He could see the exhaustion winning in Street. He needed to sleep.

'They are in the cupboard next to the cooker,' Luca didn't take the hint and stayed at Street's side.

'Want anymore food Street?' He called over removing the plates from the cupboard.

'Yeah,' Street's voice was small. Deacon looked over at his friends hunched over shoulders as he placed the plates and cutlery on the table with the food. Tan and Hondo had already started unpacking and it was basically ready to go. Deacon plated some up for Street and made his way to the couch.

'Didn't they feed you?' he joked handing the plate over. There was a small pause before Street spoke.

'I don't think she ate once while I was there. I think she's surviving on whiskey,' Deacon sat beside him placing his hand on his arm. The rest of the team stayed quiet.

'I'm sorry. You must be starving,' this was breaking Deacon's heart. How could Chris have not fed him? Even if she didn't eat herself, that was her choice. She should have fed him.

'You saw her. When was the last time you think she had a meal?' He looked up to Deacon, his eyes had filled with tears.

'I'm sure she's eating,' Deacon was just trying to make him feel better at this point. He could remember the state for Chris's body, there was a very strong possibility that she wasn't eating.

Street was staring down at the plate of food in his hand. Deacon could tell he didn't want it anymore.

'Come on. You need to sleep,' he took the food from him, placing it on the coffee table and helped him to stand. They made their way slowly to Street's bedroom passing Hondo and Tan silently as they went.

Deac pulled back the covers and sat Street on the side of the bed. He'd never seen the kid look so lost.

'Thanks,' he mumbled not looking up from the carpet.

'She's going to be fine. We're not going to stop until she's back here with us,' Deacon felt the need to reassure him.

'She's not fine. She's not even Chris,' tears were falling down his cheeks. The tear took away the last of his energy and he slumped back onto his pillows. Tiredness was the only think Deac could read on his face.

'Sleep. You'll feel better,' Deacon stepped forwards and pulled the duvet up over Street. 'I promise you she is still Chris.'

He didn't know what made him say it. He didn't want to lie to his friend, and he worried that he just had. But this didn't feel like a lie. It was like he knew it was true. She would be back with them. They just had to be patient.