The next few days were hard on Street. He spent every free moment he had at the hospital, at Chris's bedside. Sarzo had put the whole team on the visitor list but they rarely stopped by. All of them had sensed that Street needed this in more ways than one.
The doctors had lightened the sedation two days ago and as of yesterday Chris was breathing without a vent. Now all they could do was wait for her to wake up.
Street gingerly reaches for her hand and intertwines their fingers. With the softest of pressure, he lightly squeezes while whispering "Chris, I need you to wake up. I know it is unfair, but I need to hear your voice to know you are okay."
And for the first time, he thinks there is a movement under his fingers. With a start, he gets up and his free hand immediately cradles Chris' face. A smile spreads on Street's face when he feels her head turn slightly into his touch.
Street has his eyes trained on Chris's face and he isn't moving an inch away, only when the heart monitor starts going off and a nurse ushers him out he reluctantly lets go of Chris's hand.
He feels his heart beat out of his chest and his eyes are glued to the closed door behind which Chris is for all he knows right now fighting for her life. Again.
Desperate he rakes his fingers through his hair trying to form a coherent thought. He knows he should call Sarzo or anyone of Chris's relatives but what is he supposed to say. And so he stays there, rooted to the spot at the wall staring at a door.
Only minutes later said door opens and the doctor steps over to him with a smile on his face.
"She's awake. Be gentle she is very weak, but she could use some company," the older man says with a pat on Street's shoulder. Jim stares at his hands for a moment. They are shaking but he manages a quiet "Thank you," before nothing can hold him back and he hurries back to Chris' bedside.
The bed is slightly lifted so Chris is half seated. She is struggling with the cup and straw the nurse left her on the table when suddenly a hand guides the cup for her.
"Here, let me help," she hears Street's voice next to her and feels the mattress dip when he carefully takes a seat close to her so he can help.
Chris takes a few careful sips and lets the cool water trickle down her throat. The sensation makes her realize how dry and sore everything is. Deep in thought trying to figure out what exactly happened she must've swallowed wrong, and she starts coughing.
She feels his hands on her back helping her sit up.
When Chris has calmed down again, she takes stock of her surroundings for real. She finally notices Street in civilian clothes and the stubble on his face tells her he has been here for a considerable amount of time. At least the day.
She tries to sit up and a little out of his reach but that is near impossible for one she'd fall out of the bed and two: every movement hurts like hell.
"Hey, careful. Don't pull your stitches," Street gingerly grabs her and places her back in the middle of the bed, but he must've read her reaction right and now takes the chair at the wall.
His eyes are full of worry but also light up with a happiness that warms Chris in a way she hadn't thought possible.
"How long was I out?" she whispers while staring at her hands to regain some sort of control of the situation.
"A few days," he mumbles quietly, and Chris can hear the fear behind his words. She slowly lifts her hand and Jim grabs it immediately, searching her eyes for permission to reclaim his seat on the bed.
Chris smiles and weakly pulls his hand, so he sits next to her. Her head falls back against the pillows and then tilts to the side to rest against his shoulder.
They don't need words right now. Just being in this safe bubble with each other. Chris has jolts of memories, and she thinks she can hear Street's voice talking to her. Begging her to hold on. To come back to him.
She snuggles a little closer to him and his arm securely wraps around her shoulders, and they stay like that until a warning tone from one of the monitors draws them apart.
A nurse rushes in and calms down immediately when her eyes land on the twosome. She still shoos Street of the bed and reattaches the heart monitor. "Try not to pull that one," she points it out to them with a smile before leaving again.
Street grins sheepishly and shuffles a little nervous with his hands buried in his pockets.
"I don't ever want to hear your heart stop again," he suddenly lets out and his whole face contorts in pain at the memory.
Chris lifts her eyes to his and tells him with as much conviction as her weak voice offers "You won't. I am here. I won't leave!"
Street pushes off the wall and sits at the edge of the bed again. Gingerly grabbing her hand.
"I really thought I'd lost you," he mumbles before shaking his head, pulling himself together, and softly smiling at her "but you are here."
He leans over and presses his lips to her forehead.
Chris closes her eyes and just allows herself to enjoy that moment before she remembers where they are.
"Street," she lightly pushes on his chest to get him to look her in the eyes. "What are we going to do?" she asks him reaching for his hand.
"You are going to get better, and I'll be here, with you, every step of the way," is his simple reply.