Chris stands in the shower for so long after she's done washing her hair and body that the water runs cold. Something in her brain flips like a switch with the thought that she should turn it off and get out, so she does. Muscle memory continues to guide her as she dresses and runs a brush through her hair, and then she's standing in the open doorway of the bathroom, wondering where to go from there.

Where any of them will go from here. How.

Her feet find their way down the hall to the kitchen, light as a ghost. Hooking an arm on the doorway with the other playing with a string hanging off her shorts, Chris sees Helena at the stove.

"Aunt Helena?" Chris asks, voice small and eyes wide.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

Chris looks down when she speaks, almost ashamed of the burning desire inside for someone to just make all of this go away.

"Can I lie down?"

Chris's eyes flick the down the hallway to a bedroom door, and Helena hears the question Chris can't make herself ask completely.

"Of course. Go to our bedroom, I'll be there in a few minutes."

Nodding, Chris bites her lip like there's more she wants to say, but decides against it. The hardwood is cold under her feet and she stares at her Aunt and Uncle's bed for a second before taking the first step to get under the covers. She doesn't know what to focus on or what to think, but the pillows are soft under her head and the comforter is warm.

True to her word, Helena comes in with a gentle knock minutes later. She sits on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through Chris's hair. Creeping out from underneath the covers, Chris's hand takes Helena's free one.

"Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?" Helena asks, keeping her voice as light as she can.

Chris shakes her head. The reminder, however brief, fills her with nausea, and tears line her eyes.

"That's okay," Helena assures. Squeezing Chris's hand one more time, Helena stands and slips on an old pair of pajamas. She lifts the other side of the covers and settles herself half-propped against the pillows.

"C'mere."

Helena's surprised when Chris doesn't put up a front, turning to her other side and burying her head into Helena's side, wrapping an arm around her hips and clinging to her like a child does to their mother.

Wetness begins to soak through Helena's shirt as she continues petting Chris's hair. She drops gentle shushes into the air and permissions to cry that loosen the bolts on what Chris has kept so tightly shut for so many years. Chris's sobs break Helena's heart, each one worse than the one before, with no signs of slowing.

Catching Tomas's eye when he exits his bedroom and takes in the scene, Helena shakes her head and motions for him to shut the door, blocking out any noise from the rest of the house. With no more sound, one hand securely on Chris's shoulder, and the other cradling the back of her head, Helena hums.

There are some songs she didn't realize she's remembered all these years. Gentle melodies in Spanish that relax Chris's body subconsciously. Notes that promise home, that crack through all her pain and fear about Erika and manage to make Chris feel safe in a way that she doesn't know the last time she felt it.

It's hours of Chris's crying, broken pieces of what happened making their way out of her, that are mitigated with Helena's singing and words of comfort. At some point, the rope that's wound tightly around Chris and suffocating her comes undone just enough for her to slip into sleep.

Helena doesn't stop even once she realizes Chris is asleep. Her warm hands are a promise of protection that whatever else out there exists to hurt Chris won't get her tonight, and she hopes that the singing, low as it is, can ward off the memories.

A soft knock on the door breaks Helena out of the trance she'd fallen into, focused solely on Chris and the steadiness of her breathing. The door creaks open to reveal Sarzo and, behind him, Jim Street.

Sarzo's gaze lingers over Chris and then he nods at Helena, stepping back some to let Street through. Sarzo cracks the door as he returns to the living room.

"I just wanted to check on her," Street says, his own voice scratchy from crying. He's in sweats and a hoodie, so unlike the picture of him Helena's used to seeing, and she catches how his hands are shaking ever so slightly.

Sighing, Helena looks down at Chris, eyes not moving as she speaks.

"She fell asleep a little while ago. She told us what happened, as much as she could. I'm very sorry for your loss."

Street nods, the corners of his mouth quirking into a sad smile as he takes another step towards the edge of the bed.

"Thank you."

He can't say more, knows that anything else will break down the precarious facade of togetherness he's constructed.

"May I?" Street whispers, waiting for Helena's nod to perch on the edge of the bed and place a gentle hand on Chris's bicep just under where Helena's rests. The second he makes contact, his body relaxes and a weight lifts of his chest.

The pair sit in silence for a few moments, just Chris's even breathing between them. It slowly sinks in that Chris is taken care of for the night. When it does, Street stands, pulling his hand back slowly.

"Thank you for letting me see her."

For taking care of her. For keeping her safe in a world that's done nothing but take everything from both of us.

Helena understands what he doesn't say.

"It's our job." Helena says, voice certain, and Street isn't sure if she means her and Sarzo, or the two of them, but either way he thinks he understands.

"I'll let her know you stopped by. You're welcome to come back tomorrow, if you want."

Tomorrow feels like a long-lost, foreign concept that hangs so far in the distance it's inconceivable. Street's idea of tomorrow has been torn apart.

But the notion of Chris being there is enough to make hope kindle in his chest.

"Of course. Thank you, Helena." Street says, careful not to wake Chris. He drops one more glance at her from the doorway, and Helena's eyes also back on her niece.

Before the door closes, Street hears Helena's singing.

-x-

Hey folks! I considered this being the way to go in the initial draft and decided against it, but it still wouldn't leave me alone so here we are! Thanks for reading! 3