Chris's doctors went to work on her rehabilitation program quickly. In fact, they ran a whole battery of tests on her just days after she had woken up. The results were slightly discouraging as they suspected nerve damage to her right side, but they mentioned a hope it was only due to swelling and inflammation.

Chris tried to keep it together and work with the therapists as best as she could but even, she couldn't completely deny something felt off.

"Hey," she gets jolted out of her thoughts by a knock on the doorframe and Deac stopping by. "How are you feeling today?"

He smiles kindly at her, and Chris is fighting not to break down. Today's session was brutal, and she actually almost fell flat on her face because her right side still wasn't cooperating properly.

She cracks a smile anyway "I am just tired. PT kicked my ass," is her weak attempt to cover for her struggle and Deac seems to look right through her.

"Didn't go as planned today?"

"Today?" she scoffs before she can stop herself and then just stares at him scared. Deacon pulls the chair closer to the bed and studies Chris's face intently.

"Chris, setbacks are a part of recovery. Rehab isn't easy. Believe me, I know,"

Chris frowns and holds up a hand to stop him. "Please don't say that you made it. Or Luca, I just…. This is different," the last few words are barely a whisper. It is hard to admit that this might be an impossible task for her.

Deacon ignores her plea, leans over to wrap his arms around her, and whispers "You will make it. I believe in you,".

When he pulls back again, they hear a knock at the door and Chris's eyes go wide and light up seeing Street lean in the door. He had heard the final part of their exchange was a little uncomfortable as Chris hadn't mentioned struggling to him.

She always puts up a positive and optimistic front. Counting down the days when she could go home.

Deacon politely excused himself after a short while leaving Chris and Street alone and Jim wasn't too sure how to open the subject of her progress but thankfully, he didn't have to as Chris's doctor entered.

"Ms. Alonso," he starts and immediately stops with a pointed look at Street.

"He can stay," Chris's voice is firm but gentle, betraying her fear and Jim reaches for her hand to squeeze her fingers reassuringly.

"I see," the doctor notes and then opens the file he brought with him. "I talked with your therapist, and we are in agreement, that you are proficient enough with a walker to be released, if" he holds up a finger seeing Chris's relieved smile. "You are not staying alone and can arrange to come in twice a week to do exercises here as well as daily at home."

After the doctor has left Chris leans against the pillows. She had dreamed about getting to go home the past few weeks, but she can't deny being scared. And who could she ask to stay with her? To disrupt their life. Should she just move back in with her aunt and uncle?

Her thoughts are still swirling like a merry-go-round when she suddenly feels Street's fingers entangle with hers. Chris turns her head to look into his worried face. Jim tries to smile but Chris's frown serves to scare him too.

"What's wrong?" he whispers while moving to sit next to her on the bed.

When Chris lays her head on his shoulder and leans into him an involuntary smile paints his lips. This has become their thing in the past few weeks. And he knew he shouldn't push Chris and let her come to her decisions on her own, but Jim couldn't stop the words falling out of his mouth right now.

"Why don't I move in with you for a little while?"

Jim knows the exact moment when his words have registered because with a start Chris sits back up and stammers "I can't ask you to do that!". Her face is scared but her eyes shine with a glimmer of happiness and hope too; prompting Jim to point out "You didn't. I am offering."

Chris takes her time to think about this offer and she could come up with a million reasons why this is a stupid idea, but her heart tells her it actually might just be perfect. For them.

And so, she reluctantly agrees.

The first few days at the apartment feel oddly familiar and strange at the same time. Perfectly normal, in harmony, and yet utterly new and confusing.

Jim tried not to put any unnecessary pressure on Chris and was the perfect gentleman. Taking the couch. Being there as much as he could to help without overcrowding and in all reality patiently waiting, as best as he could, for Chris to seek him out or ask for help.

The weeks rolled by, and they had found their rhythm.

Chris knew they hadn't only toed the line; they moved it and redefined their friendship more than once. They hadn't broken any rules by any standards, but she knew in her heart that they could've easily, but Street had been careful not to push or prod and let her take the lead.

After around 3 months after her injury, Chris was due for a fitness check-up with the physical therapists. The results would determine her further treatment plan. Realistically she knew that she was struggling, and something just didn't feel right. She was still dependent on a crutch or walking stick if she tried to walk longer distances and the feeling in her right side was continually dull or nonexistent in the case of her ring and pointer finger.

Chris endured all tests and listened to the doctors' recommendations. She knew they would also inform the department physicians and so she decided to take a cab to HQ and seek out Hicks, Lynch, and Hondo to work out what was next.