That night, Street slept horribly. Every car backfire or the slightest rustling of leaves from outside had him sitting up straight. He was constantly listening for the crack of a door or the floorboards. Maybe Chris waking up, but nothing.
When the first rays of sunshine fight through his blinds he pushes out of bed to make the strongest coffee in a while. He felt antsy and wanted nothing more than to leave for a run, but on the other hand, he didn't want to leave Chris alone or risk her leaving without any sort of explanation.
Because by now, he felt he was owed one.
Around noon, he can finally hear movement out of Luca's room. He can hear the loud "Shit" and the moaning about a hammering headache. He slowly gets up and pulls a towel out of the linen closet before knocking on the door.
"I'll leave a towel here for you if you want to take a shower to wake up," he speaks softly and gets a very pained and weak "Thanks," back from Chris.
Unwillingly, Street has to smile. That was the nicest exchange they had had in a while. He moves back to the kitchen and prepares a small plate of food for her. As well as some juice, more water, and a cup of coffee.
After about 30 minutes, Chris reemerges out of the bathroom. She had opted for his shirt and sweats and is toweling her hair dry.
"How did I get here?" she asks with serious confusion obvious in her voice.
Street walks to the counter to buy some time. He hands her a coffee and asks quietly "What's the last thing you remember from last night?"
He studies Chris's wandering eyes while handing her the cup, and when Chris stops her rapid eye movement she lets out with a frown "Putting on my party shoes,".
Street feels his heart constrict and follows her eyes. "I put them there, while Tan carried you in," he explains the heels next to his door.
"Oh, so I didn't come here on my own," Chris notes and leans against the wall now. Her fingers kneed her forehead, and she shields her eyes against the sun creeping in through the windows. Suddenly, she frowns. And Street subconsciously rubs the spot on his chest Chris had pushed last night. She seemed a lot more approachable now. He turns to pick up the glass of water and a painkiller.
"Here, you look like you need it," he smiles at her and gets rewarded with a quick smile in return.
Chris swallows the pill and continues to sip her coffee while pacing the room. Something still seems to bother her. Street can only imagine how she must feel right now, with an apparent blackout.
"Chris, what's going on? You were out of it last night…" she whirls around and winces but still manages to glare at him. "It's none of your business. Why did you bring me here? You could've…"
"We didn't want to search for a key," Street tries to stay calm, but the rise in anger in Chris was already visible. "I am worried about you. Let me help,"
Chris groans. "My keys are in my car," she snares, and his raised eyebrows must've angered her even more. "My car is at home. I am not that stupid!"
"Could've fooled me," falls out of his mouth before Street can control his brain. He is too shocked by her sudden return to anger and distant.
Chris smashes the cup on the counter and stalks off. Minutes later, she reappears back in her party outfit, swiping away on her phone. For a quick second, Street tries to figure out where she had kept that one, but when she heads for the door, his mouth works again.
"Please stay, and let me help," he pleads with her, but Chris just shakes her head.
"You can't help me. I have to go," she all but screams at him before slamming the door.
Street collapses on the sofa, and when his phone starts ringing after a while, he eagerly answers, "Yes?" hoping it might be Chris who changed her mind.
"Morning, how is she?" Tan's worried voice comes down the line instead.
"Awake, angry, and gone," Street sighs, rubbing his face frustrated. Ever so often, his head supplies pictures of how he found his mom two years ago mixed with the anger his father had displayed when drunk. Could she still have been under the influence after hours of sleep?
"Okay, you're not listening to me at all. I'll be right over," Tan's remark pulls him back.
"Sorry, I am just worried. See you soon." Street sighs and ends the call.
A while later, Tan walks in with some bagels for them and takes a look around.
"What happened this morning?" he asks, and Street can hear the question behind it. What's really going on here?
Street stays silent, trying to work out what to say.
Tan sighs next to him. "Okay, let me start and tell you what I see," Street cringes and nods. Maybe like this, he can figure out something to say that won't compromise Chris even further.
"When I picked up Chris at that bar and dropped her home, I asked why she hadn't called you," Tan begins, and Street can only nod sadly. "She told me she didn't want to put more on your plate than your break up. I didn't believe her fully back then, especially after she lied to you the next morning and after last night… Street. What happened between you two?"
Tan fixes his eyes on Street, and he can't help but swallow deeply. He feels caught. Almost like Tan already knows. But how?
"What do you mean?" Street tries playing dumb, but Tan is not letting up.
"I am not blind, and I saw her reaction to you last night. And I don't mean the shoving you away…" Tan trails off with raised eyebrows, "So what did you do to warrant that move?"
Street closes his eyes and tries not to replay that moment. But his memory already conjured up Chris making out with that slimeball, and he had to wince.
"Street?" Tan inquires, now worry evident in his voice. Street sighs, defeated, and, while glancing over at his friend, finally admits, "I told her how I feel,"
He can see it in Tan's face immediately. At a minimum, he had suspected something along those lines but was still shocked.
"I take it it didn't go so well…" Tan quips and then adds, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Street shakes his head. "No, I shouldn't. And it's not important right now. I want to help her. I can't watch Chris destroy herself, her career, and her future by essentially drinking herself to," he swallows and just whispers, "death."
Street takes a break, trying to shake all the worst-case scenarios out of his mind. "I just don't know how. She ran when I tried talking to her about it…"
"Hey," Tan pats his shoulder, "Don't put this on yourself alone. I should've stepped up when I saw her slip. I just thought you two were still talking. I mean, at least it looked that way at work…" he trails off, and Street winces a bit. Tan was right. Chris had kept a pretty good façade the last few weeks.
She hadn't flat-out ignored him like two years ago. Just had to shut down any private interaction. And apparently refused to be touched by him in any way.
"I wish I knew what to do," Street lets out, exasperated, and Tan gets up. "Tell you what, I'll go and check in on her," he offers, and Street feels compelled to add, "I hope she opens the door for you!"
Agonizingly long hours later, Street gets a text from Tan. "We should talk some more tomorrow!"
His first impulse is to call his friend and ask about a million questions. The most important one, though, is how Chris is doing. He feels absolutely helpless not being able to be there for her. It hurt that she was shutting him out and utterly afraid of losing her permanently.
But he also knows when Tan writes tomorrow, he has to respect that and wait.
After another restless night, Street finds himself at HQ early. He wants to work out his nervous energy before his shift, and he has a faint hope that maybe his friend will find him and they could talk before they need to focus on work. He is almost finished tying his shoelaces when Tan actually strolls in.
"Good, you're here early," he comments, placing his bag in his locker.
"How did it go yesterday?" Street asks, looking up hopeful.
"It went quite well, at least until I mentioned you," Tan sighs. "Listen, I know you worry about Chris. I do, too, but maybe you should give her some space and wait until she comes to you." Tan concludes, patting his back.
"I don't know if I can do that. I can't stand by and watch her do this. I've seen it before…" Street swallows when his mind interchanges his mother in the orange jumpsuit or lying on the floor drugged out of her mind with Chris.
"I know this is not what you wanted to hear, but right now, she can't deal with you or what you represent for her right now. But in good news, we cleaned out her fridge and freezer, and she shouldn't have any more alcohol in the apartment. She was buzzed when I showed up, and it took me a while to convince her that wasn't the right course of action." Tan tells him after they have left to go on a run outside. Streets head spins. How could it get this bad?
They both have to focus on work within the hour, and there is little time to dwell on their friend or her troubles. And after a grueling day, Street heads home to collapse into bed. In his nightmares, Chris features again heavily, but all he can do right now is pray. Pray that the night before was a warning shot too close, and it had her rattled enough to seek help. Or take the hand offered by Tan if she didn't want his help.