Commotion from the kitchen welcomes Chris back into the world of the living the following morning. Her whole body is stiff and sore, and she downs another round of the pain medication to lessen it sooner rather than later. Light sneaks in through under the blinds, and the door is cracked for someone to be able to listen and make sure she's okay without disturbing her sleep. She reaches up until her hand clicks the lamp on.
Bracing herself, Chris sits up slow and lets her body settle into itself. Her crutches lean against the nightstand, the armpit pads now covered with fluffy navy hand towels that won't dig into her.
Chris is beginning to figure out the effort it's going to take to get herself standing and in the living room when her train of thought is interrupted by the creak of the door hinges. Street steps through the doorway, smiling at her.
"Hey," he says quietly. "How're you feeling?"
Scanning her body brings her awareness to the faint undercurrent of pain not just from her knee, but the other injuries, and Chris shrugs.
"Fine. Who's here?"
Street glances into the hallway and then back at Chris, walking closer to the bed and handing her the crutches.
"Helena. She brought a lot of food, and I thought you might want her to help you since you can't shower yet."
Chris nods, accepting the help without further fight as the knowledge of her Aunt's presence alleviates something she can't put her finger on. The ordeal from last night is fresh in her mind.
"I can get her, if you want?" Street asks, searching Chris's face for any indications as to how she's feeling or what she needs.
"Yeah, thanks," Chris replies, the more she thinks about the desert embedded in her skin, the worse she feels. Street sets a hand on hers for a second and then moves back to the kitchen while Chris makes her way into her bathroom.
The short trip exhausts her, and she's sitting on the closed toilet lid when Helena knocks lightly and pushes the door open a smidgen.
"Hey, Sweetie, how are you?"
The familiar tone of Helena's voice is like a soothing balm, and Chris doesn't have it in her to not let herself lean in. Her Aunt's touch is warm on her shoulder.
"You remember when Tomas and Mirabel both got the flu and kept all of us up for three days straight?"
Helena nods, a sympathetic smile on her face as the memories flood back to her.
"I'd take that over this."
Heart clenching, Helena tilts down to kiss Chris's forehead and cradle her face. Her eyes trace the bruising that's etched into Chris's skin and Helena swallows.
"Well, a shower helped them, and it will help you, too, and I know it's early but soup is on the stove."
At the mention of food Chris's stomach grumbles, making Helena chuckle.
"Aha. Let me grab you some new clothes, and I can help you with your hair in the kitchen sink after."
Before Helena can leave, Chris grabs her hand and pulls her into a hug, burying her face in Helena's shirt. She gives Helena a small smile when they part. Helena brings her new clothes and bandages, and sorts through the bottles in Chris's shower until she finds the body wash and a cloth.
"Call if you need anything, Chrissy, I'll be close."
The door swings shut behind Helena, latching into place with a click and leaving Chris alone.
Sighing, she looks at the body wash and pushes the clean clothes towards the other side of the sink so they don't get wet. She turns the sink water as hot as she can stand and peels off her pajamas, leaving them in a crumpled pile.
It's not perfect, but refreshing and relaxing nonetheless as she lathers the citrus soap over her skin and then chases it off with more hot water. Chris accepts just leaving her bad leg be for the day, not wanting to fuss with the brace and reminding herself it won't be long until the stitches are out.
Clean, a new sense of fatigue hits Chris, and though she hasn't been up long, she wants a nap. But her stomach grumbles again for want of food, and the comforting scent of herbs and broth wafts through her apartment. Testing how much weight she can put on her leg without any pain, Chris hobbles her way down the hallway.
Street and Helena are laughing about something by the stove. The sound of Chris's crutches gets Street's attention, and he smiles brightly at her.
"Feel better?" He asks, eyes clearer than when he came in this morning, and more levity in the air. Chris smiles back.
"Yeah, thanks." She moves towards them, and when she's near enough, Helena turns towards Chris with a spoon that she blows on before holding it out to her niece.
It tastes like home and Chris's shoulders fall inches as she swallows, her whole body relaxing as the tangy, aromatic broth makes her feel better almost magically. Chris takes another tentative step towards the stove, only to be stopped by Helena's hand on her shoulder.
"That's got 20 more minutes to simmer. Come, sit, I'll wash your hair."
Chris pouts, lips downturned and head rolling back in a way that Street's never seen, and he hides his soft chuckle in his shoulder as the new memory burrows into his heart for safe keeping. Helena, however, isn't fooled, and Chris drops the act in favor of leaning her crutches against the counter and lowering herself into a chair, lifting her bad leg onto another they've set up with a pillow for cushion.
"Jim, will you…" Helena asks, motioning her head towards Chris's room as she turns the sink on and lets the water run over her hand until it's warm.
Street nods. He hurries towards Chris's bathroom and collects her shampoo, conditioner, a brush, and a towel. When he sets them down at Helena's side, Chris mouths him a "thank you."
Street squints in response, questioning why she's thanking him in the first place.
Water hot but not scalding, Helena takes the hose from the sink and wets Chris's hair. It feels amazing as Helena's hands massage through Chris's strands and the water drains the tension from her body until she can't help the quiet moan that escapes when they leave.
"Just to get shampoo," Helena reassures Chris, hands running through Chris's hair and lathering in the product a few seconds later. Helena's gentle on Chris's scalp, some spots still tender from the fight, and Chris closes her eyes.
Helena repeats the process with the conditioner. It's even more pleasant, producing a calming effect on Chris so great she almost falls asleep.
"All done," Helena says, rinsing Chris's hair for another minute before she returns the spray nozzle back to its home. Chris lifts her head up where Helena waits with the towel to dry it. She scrunches strands and lightly rubs Chris's scalp until her hair is no longer soaking wet and then runs the brush through it until all the tangles and weight from Lankford are finally gone.
"Thank you," Chris says softly, craning her neck to smile at Helena.
"Of course, Sweetheart. Why don't you get settled on the couch and I'll bring you some soup."
Getting a grip on the crutches, Chris stands and takes a deep breath. Street's in the chair again, scrolling through his phone and he smiles when he sees her.
"Team says hello and they miss you." Street reports, at the same moment Chris's temporary phone buzzes with a text and checking it shows her a list of other missed messages from the team. Squinting to try to read them makes her head hurt, so she makes a mental note to respond later.
"Tell them hi, to be safe. Oh, yes," Chris smiles in anticipation of Helena approaching, bowl in hand. Pushing herself up further against the arm of the couch, Helena hands it to her with a warning that it's hot, but that doesn't stop Chris from taking a sip.
"Mm, delicious. Street, you have to try this."
Street chuckles, a light blush creeping up his neck when he looks between Helena and Chris.
"I had breakfast before Helena got here, but I will soon. There's enough to feed an army."
"Of Sarzo and Tomas." Chris and Helena say, at the same time, with the same tone.
Street's eyes widen for a second at the display, and then his heart warms at how close Chris and Helena are, even if Chris doesn't always let on to as much. And how lucky he feels that Chris forced him to cancel that date years ago and go to her family's barbecue instead.
The trio sit, Chris sipping and then picking through the contents of the soup as her eyes bounce back and forth between Helena and Street's conversation. She waits for the subject to turn to her, but they both manage to refrain.
When she's finished, Chris sets the empty bowl on the end table and finishes her water before sitting up and turning to look at her Aunt. Her eyes find Helena's, who sees something in them, sighs, and stands without a word to sit next to Chris on the couch. Once Helena's settled, Chris stretches herself out along the couch with her bad leg pressed against the back cushions and her head in Helena's lap, eyes closed as Helena cards through her hair.
A knowing smirk crosses Street's face at the sight, and he puts his hand to his lips as he sneaks a picture.
"The whole lot of them," Helena starts, a tone of deep adoration lined with false annoyance, the same way Street's heard Chris speak. "Even Sarzo, and he hasn't had hair since before we were married."
Chris cracks one eye open, watching Helena, who's chuckling with Street.
"I'm awake, you know," Chris murmurs.
"Ah, ah, shh, Chrissy." Helena chides her softly. Street's surprised when Chris does quiet, just a soft sigh leaving her as she closes her eyes. Within a few minutes Chris is asleep, but Helena doesn't stop.
"I don't know where they got it from. Sarzo said he remembers his mother doing it to him, and she remembered it from her father. The second Chrissy was born, it was the one thing that got her to sleep. Whenever she would fuss, Sarzo or her mother would do this and she was fine. Tomas and Mirabel are the same way."
Street grins at the story, his heart and stomach full of love. His gaze sits soft on Chris for a few seconds before Helena's words catch in his mind.
"You said Chris's mom would do this for her?"
From where her own eyes rest on Chris, Helena glances up and nods, her lips in a tight line.
Helena looks unsure, as if she's stepping around landmines, so Street gives her a clear path.
"Chris told me what happened a few years ago. She doesn't talk about her often."
Sighing, Helena double checks that Chris is sleeping, and keeps her voice low as she considers how much to say.
"Neither does Sarzo. Sylvia was younger than him, and she had Chrissy young. She loved Chrissy, she did, but she also loved fun and staying out late, and that came with much less responsibility. Still, there were many nights when I'd be awake and I'd go to check on Chrissy and I'd find Sylvia curled up in bed with her, dress still on and running a hand through her hair as she hummed to her."
There's a weight to the end of the sentence, a finality that tells Street Helena's said everything she's going to say for right now, and he doesn't press.
"Thank you for telling me," he says, and Helena smiles sadly, nodding.
Looking down at Chris's face, a memory surfaces in Helena that she hasn't thought about in almost two decades.
"After her mother passed, she wouldn't let us do this for a long time."
For Street, it's a puzzle piece clicking into place. Another part of Chris that he's gotten hints of, but never completely understood, until now. He thinks of what he knows about Chris's life after her mom died. The big things she's told him about, good and bad.
"When did she start again? Letting you guys—"
"Take care of her?" Helena finishes. Street nods.
"She didn't really ever let us, let anyone. But it was around the time Tomas got sick. Chrissy came to every appointment, stayed overnight in the hospital. God, she looked just like her mom when I'd walk in and see her sitting next to him, a hand in his curls and humming through her mask. Sarzo started doing it when we were in pre-op with her for the marrow donation."
Helena inhales deeply and wipes away a few tears as they come to her. Street wants to hear more, wants to hear every single detail of Chris's life, but he stops himself from asking any more questions Chris doesn't know about.
"She talks about you guys all the time at work. To anyone who will listen, and especially about Mirabel."
Helena smiles down at Chris, pride swelling in her chest as Street continues.
"That first dinner I came to? I'd just joined the team, and I was a bigger wreck than the house when Sarzo first saw it. Hondo kind of shoved me off on Chris to make me get SWAT's a family. She did, you all did. Thank you for that."
Street holds back tears of his own when he's done speaking, and Helena nods.
"Of course. You're all Chrissy's family, too, and we know how much you mean to her. There's always a standing invitation for any of you."
"Don't tell that to Luca."
Helena laughs brightly.
"Oh, he's spent a few Christmases with us, we know."
Helena and Street go back and forth, swapping stories about the rest of 20 Squad and a few about Chris, only stopping when she stirs.
Chris tries to roll onto her side and then remembers the giant hunk of metal keeping her leg straight, making her grumble.
"What's wrong, Chrissy?" Helena's voice floats over her like a song, Chris blinking the last of her sleep away and looking up at her.
"Can I have some more soup?"
Street laughs, already standing and walking to the kitchen before she's done asking.
"You talk about me?" Chris asks, groggy but smart enough to discern the obvious from how much both Helena and Street love to talk.
"Just a little," Helena promises, sending Street a small wink since Chris can't see her how she's sitting.
"Yeah," Street continues, handing Chris the bowl. "You never told me your first tattoo was a stick-and-poke."
hello! i hope everyone had a happy holidays, and has a great new years!
thank you so much for reading, and i hope you enjoyed! lots of feel-good family fluff and caretaking before we move into some angstier chapters. at this point i think i'm incapable of writing about anything other than stris and Chris's family lol.
to everyone who's read and commented and continues to read, thank you so much! i can't express how much it means to me. see you soon!
xo, A
