In the next few days, it becomes abundantly clear that everybody in the building knows about his loss. Every colleague or technician or even visitors from other divisions express their sympathy. Street feels a bit like a fraud because, deep down, he is glad Karen, his mother, was dead.
She couldn't mess up his life anymore.
That job now had another woman in his life.
Street shakes his head. For some reason, his safe spot in the armory was now occupied by said woman. She was in there if Chris wasn't training like a maniac, either on the range or in the gym.
"So, what's up with her?" Tan steps to him and smiles at having caught him staring at Chris.
"Beats me," Street tries to play it off, but Tan raises an eyebrow at him.
"I am serious. I don't know. We haven't been talking ever since…" he gestures around aimlessly. "Not even after Luca texted us?" Tan sounds incredulous and frowns.
"Ah," Street swallows, "she came by, but I just, I can't let her get to me," he lets out and hits the bag with his fist.
"Street," Tan stops his swing by patting his shoulder, "I can't pretend to know what's going on with you. And I can't imagine what you're going through with everything right now, but I am absolutely convinced that Chris just wants the best for you. You do realize she has requested time off for tomorrow, right?"
Street turns his head, confused. "Why would she do that?"
"We all tried to, but we are on shift," Tan softly continues. "I didn't ask her to," Street breathes out.
"I figured as much. Listen, if you want her there or not, I have a feeling Chris will show up. It's her way to show you she cares. The rest is up to you," Tan pats his shoulder once more and then walks off.
Street reaches for his towel and dries his face and palms. When he looks back up again, Chris has left the armory. How long had he looked away? He sprints to the locker room but can only find her empty locker.
Chris had left.
Street contemplates picking up his phone and … Do what? His inner voice snarks.
Ask if Tan was right. Get shot down because his friend was wrong?
He shakes his head and decides to go home and get some sleep. The next day would be hard regardless, even without the addition of not knowing what was going on in Chris's head.
Street stays in his room the next morning until he hears Luca leave. It wasn't quite fair, but he didn't want to see his roommate and get pity. He didn't really feel like he deserved it.
In the quiet house, he lays out the suit and double-checks that everything is prepared. He tries to munch on a piece of toast but barely can bring himself to swallow anything. His stomach is in knots. But not because he is about to say goodbye to his mother for the last time. No. It's actually in anticipation of seeing Chris.
And that feels wrong, like he is getting his hopes up. But for what?
A knock on the front door startles him out of his stupor.
He walks over, and he just knows who is there, and still he holds his breath, opening the door. If his heart is beating out of his chest due to nerves and everything, Chris just looks like he feels.
She smiles so insecure that he can't hold back and hugs her to him, as much for his comfort as hers. "Thank you for being here," he mumbles into her hair.
"We wouldn't let you do this alone," Chris deflects and steps back. "What can I do." She asks, and at that moment, the mask seems to be back on. She looks calm and collected while stepping inside.
He watches her take stock of his preparations, and he blurts out, "Can you just be my friend again? My best friend."
Chris whirls around with wide eyes. Seems she hadn't expected that request.
She nods and whispers, "I can try."
That had to suffice for the moment. Street knows he has to get ready now and puts on his suit with trembling hands. He is glad Chris came and can drive him. He isn't too sure he'd make it to the cemetery in one piece on his own.
The funeral itself is short. As expected, no one else from his family showed up, nor any other friends his mother might've had. So it's just him and Chris.
But something still feels odd. He can't put his finger on it. It might be the way Chris keeps her distance and always walks at least two paces behind and away from him. Maybe it is her distant, almost emotionless stare into the distance.
And when she simply drops him off at the house to drive off on her own, Street can't help but feel alone. As alone as he told Luca he was.
There is nothing keeping him here anymore, right?
Hicks had given him the next few days off, so no one would really miss him if he were to leave right now. But he owed Luca, and probably Hondo and Hicks, an explanation and the fact that he needed a recommendation if he wanted to go back to the police force wherever he would end up.
It barely takes him an hour to pack up his most important belongings. But he couldn't go to Hicks tonight. So, Street sleeps in his room one last time before he sets his plan in motion.
He breathes a sigh of relief when the team is out of the building as he walks in for his meeting with Hicks. The commander asks him multiple times if he is sure about this. And every time, Street puts on his best performance of conviction.
"Yes, it's best if I leave LA behind for now," he is convinced it is for the best.
"Do you know where you're headed?" Hicks inquires and studies him with concern clear on his face.
"Not yet, but when I do. Could you…" Street stammers out and looks up at his boss.
"I will," after that affirmation, Street pulls out his shield and places it on the table. The last formality before he can leave this building as essentially a civilian.
It is a surreal feeling, but when he swings himself on his bike outside, Street can feel a huge weight lift off his chest. He is free. But life has a way of coming back at you in the most unexpected ways.