tw: nightmares, implied threats against children


Wednesday passes without incident, but the low buzz of anxiety that Chris feels has been ramping up for days, and she knows she's running out of energy to manage it. She's able to sleep when the team isn't there, finding it easier to close her eyes in the daylight in between PT sessions and follow-up labs. At night, she watches Street sleep and lets the weight of his arm over her be a comfort.

When the team is able to swing by all together, they tell her how the girls they recovered are doing.

"Chris?" Luca asks, when Hondo's been done speaking for a minute and she's still staring out the window.

"I heard," She says flatly. "I'm glad. They deserve safety, a chance." Swallowing, she looks around at them and musters a small smile before her gaze falls again. It lands on her wrists, where thin bandages still cover the deep cuts she got from trying to free herself. Street's hand is soft on her back, but even so she wants to shrug it off. She sighs.

"Do you want to hear what Hicks has set up for cadet training tomorrow?" Deacon cuts in, trying to lighten the mood or at least distract her.

"Sure. Anything you've got is better than those." She tells them, referring to the ever-growing stack of tabloid magazines sitting next to the ever-growing stack of get-well cards. They know the outward show of concern from the rest of her coworkers is appreciated, but suffocating, and Street makes a point to put the cards in a drawer the next time Chris drifts off.


"I'm sorry, but there are no visitors at the moment." Stephanie tells Street with a sad, but firm, look when he gets back with lunch the following day.

He nods with a knowing look, but then turns like he doesn't know what to do with himself. Stephanie stands and walks around the desk, pulling him to the side.

"She's been through a lot, and she just needs some time to process everything without an audience. She's at PT with Shane right now anyway and won't be back for at least another half-hour. I'll check in with her again this evening."


Dr. Richardson enters some time after Thursday afternoon rounds with a smile on his face. Chris is alone, flipping through a tabloid while the TV plays quiet nonsense. There's a small bruise on her arm from Stephanie drawing blood before taking her to scans and going through the laundry list of questions they've gone through every day. She sets the magazine down and stares at him.

"Hey, Chris," Dr. Richardson says. "I have good news! All of your labs look great, all the nurse's notes say you're progressing well, and I see no reason why we can't get you out of here by Sunday."

Chris's eyes widen in surprise, and an involuntary laugh escapes.

"You're still going to need to rest, and you'll have a check-up in two weeks, but, medically, you're almost ready."

"Thank you." She knows her smile must look ridiculous, but doesn't linger on it. "Is there anything else? I need to call my family." He shakes his head.

"Of course. Congratulations again."

She nods as he goes, unlocking her phone and dialing. Her Aunt's voice comes through the speaker before the end of the first ring.

"Cariño! How are you? Is everything okay? You're on speaker."

Tears come to her eyes, and she can't stop nodding, even though she knows they can't see her.

"I get to go home soon."

Their joy is evident over the phone and it warms Chris up. They say congratulations and that they can't wait to see her soon once they're home. The conversation continues for a while, moving on to how their cruise is and the next family gathering, until she's interrupted by a knock on the door and Shane's smile popping in a second later.

"Okay. I have to go for PT. Yes, I'll tell the team you say hello. Yes, and that Tomas wants to come over, I'm sure it's fine. Okay. Yes! I love you. Bye."

She hangs up with a look that makes Shane chuckle, and he closes the door softly behind him.

"How are you feeling, Chris?"

"Good. Still in pain, but breathing is getting easier, so is walking."

"Glad to hear," Shane says, and pulls a stool next to her bed.

"I heard you're on your way out of here. There's no need for you to continue in-house once you're discharged, but it is important that you keep doing everything we've gone over. The more you're able to strengthen, the quicker you'll be back on your feet."

"Got it. Be honest with me, when will I be able to start training again?"

His eyes widen and he lets out a small sigh.

"Full training is at least five weeks out. Even once your ribs are healed, you'll need to ease back into things. Worst case scenario, two months, but I don't think that's what you're looking at."

She nods, thinking over what the next few weeks of her life are going to look like and letting that settle onto her.

"And you'll be at my two-week appointment?"

Shane smiles. As he speaks, he rolls over to flip through her chart.

"I will. When you leave, we'll give you a list of the movements I'll be looking over at that time. Again, don't push yourself past your limit, but you'll have a little bit of a guide. Now, are you ready to start today's session?"

"Let's do this."


Deacon bolts up to the blare of his ringtone at three a.m. on Friday morning. A thought about how they're not supposed to be on call races through his mind as he jumps up from bed, apologizing to Annie before taking the call into the hallway. His eyes catch the screen enough to recognize that the number isn't HQ. It does nothing to calm his pounding heart.

"Hello?" He asks, clearing his throat to get rid of the gruffness from sleep.

"Hi, is this David Kay?" A voice comes through on the other end of the line. They don't sound like something terrible has happened, but he can tell there's an edge to their tone that puts a pit in his stomach.

"Speaking. Who is this?"

Ducking back into their bedroom, Deacon grabs sweatpants and socks, starting to pull them on in the hallway.

"Hi, I'm calling from the LA County Harbor Hospital."

His heart stops. Everything stops.

He struggles to keep his voice even when he asks, "Is Chris alright?"

"Miss Alonso is physically fine, but she woke up in distress. Unfortunately, I can't say more over the phone, but she's asking for you."

He doesn't remember how, but Deacon manages to grab a jacket and get his shoes on without even realizing it.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

The call ends and he takes the stairs two at a time, pushing into their bedroom to gently shake Annie awake.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Chris. The hospital called, physically she's fine, but I need to get down there. I'll call you if anything happens."

Annie's eyes are fearful when she nods, her brain already moving through the possibilities of what could have happened. She pushes at her husband's shoulders to usher him out.

"Go, go. I got the kids, we're good here. Call me as soon as you're able to."

Deacon leans down and buries a hand in Annie's hair to place a kiss on her forehead, and then another on her lips. She can see the worry in his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Go. I love you."

"I love you, too."


People clear out of his path as Deacon walks towards the nurse's station. His jaw is set, fists clenched, and he can almost feel the blood running in his veins.

A nurse in light blue scrubs catches sight of him and signals him over.

"You must be David."

"I am. Where's Chris?"

The nurse sets a hand on his arm to placate him, though it only garners a tight smile.

"She's in her room. The on-call attending is just finishing with her. She woke up about 35 minutes ago from what appears to be a nightmare. In an effort to calm her down, we administered a very low dose of a sedative. It shouldn't cause her to fall asleep, but help get her vitals back down to normal."

"She hasn't said anything about what she saw?"

"Not to any of the medical staff. We have noted that these episodes are recurrent, however, if she's mentioned anything to you or your team."

Deacon flashes back to the conversation the team had a few days ago, but shakes his head.

"Nothing more than trouble sleeping. When can I see her?"

At that moment, the room to her door swings open and a woman in a white coat steps out. Slight, but noticeable, she nods at the nurse.

"You're good to go in now. Keep your voice low."

Deacon's heart breaks when he first takes her in under the dim hospital light. Chris is sitting up, taking in breaths that sound just pained enough, he knows she's uncomfortable. Her eyes are puffy, the final remnants of tears still making trails down her cheeks. Her hands are shaking. She looks rattled.

Of all the words he's thought of in relation to Chris throughout all the years they've known one another, rattled has never crossed his mind. Devastated, infuriated, and confused, maybe. Ecstatic, on the other end. Never once rattled.

"Hey, Chris," he says as softly as he can.

"Deac?" Her voice is raspy, recognition flickering in her eyes. He nods and steps towards her, sitting on the side of her bed and getting his arms around her just as more tears start to fall.

Deacon doesn't say anything, just rocks them both and wills himself to hold it together. Chris buries her head in his shoulder. The rest of her body curls up to make her as small as possible.

Whatever they gave her seems to have worked, since the machines don't rise into any worrying levels again, but her cries tell him that she doesn't feel any better. The sobs mix with harsh coughs when she can't catch her breath, and any strength she has fades from her while Deacon rubs her back until the episode passes. She's left sniffling and limp against his chest, eyes hazy.

"Do you want to talk?" He whispers after a moment of silence once the sniffles have slowed.

Chris doesn't sit up, but he's looking down at her enough to see the terror in her eyes grow.

"He had the kids," she mumbles. "I was there, and I couldn't do anything. I don't remember anything else, just that he had them. Lila and Matthew—"

Chris's voice breaks before she gets any further. She heaves a breath and the tears start again. Immediately, Deacon shushes her and holds her tighter, assuring her that they're okay, at home.

"Annie's with them. Do you want me to call her?"

She shakes her head fervently as guilt pools in her stomach.

"No. It's fine. I shouldn't— I'm sorry."

He shushes her and runs a hand down her arm in an attempt to steady her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm glad I'm here. And the only thing Annie asked is that I call her as soon as I know you're okay, so I'm just doing what she wants."

The joke doesn't quite crack through the mix of emotions Chris has storming through her, but is enough to get her to assent. Deacon leaves a hand on her shoulder as he dials and puts the phone to his ear.

"Is everything okay?"

"Hey, Annie. Yeah, we're okay. Can you send me pictures of the kids?"

Annie recognizes his tone enough to know not to ask any more questions. He hears the smile on her when she responds.

"Yeah, give me one second."

Deacon hears her shuffling on the other end of the line, and then a moment later his phone vibrates.

"Is that good? Lila heard you get up, and, where there's one, there's all of them."

He laughs and says that's perfect, thanking her.

"Of course. Tell Chris we love her."

A glance at Chris tells him she heard Annie, and he smiles.

"She loves everyone, too." He hangs up and pulls up the photo before handing his phone to Chris. Lila, Matthew, Samuel, and Victoria are asleep in their parents' bed, four heads on one pillow, peaceful.

"They're safe, Chris, asleep and probably stealing the covers. It's okay."

Chris sighs in relief before the rest of the energy drains out of her, exhausted from the prolonged nightmare that was the last hour and a half.

"Okay. Thank you."

Deacon nods and says of course. Concern continues to course through him even as she pulls back because he can tell she's still uneasy. Once she's adjusted against the pillows again, he asks if there's anything else she needs.

"Do you need me to call Street? I'm surprised he isn't here."

"I made him go home. Him staying is—I won't depend on him for both of our sakes. I'll be fine."

Even in the dark, she can see the exasperated look on Deacon's face. He manages to stifle his sigh but takes her hand in his.

"I'm saying this because I love you. No one expects you to be fine, and part of having a partner means being able to lean on them through thick and thin. Annie's been there for me through more than a few traumatic events. Let Street be here for you, Chris. You deserve that."

Chris swallows thick. She tries to adjust again and winces as her ribs catch. It feels like a sign that she'd normally roll her eyes at, but she's shaky and exhausted and it's obvious to both of them that she just wants to be in his arms.

"Thanks, Deac," she whispers. Smiling, he drops a kiss to her head before stepping back into the now-calmer hallway to call Street, who he imagines has a similar experience he did when he answers the phone. It only rings twice.

"Deacon. Is everything okay?"

"Calm down, Street. Everything's fine, Chris is fine, she's asking for you."

"I'm on my way." Deacon can hear the same shuffle to get dressed and grab his keys on the other end. And then, "Wait? Are you at the hospital now?"

"I am. They called me. Nightmares. I know she asked you to leave, but I talked to her and she wants you here." He doesn't need to say more for Street to understand. He scrawls a note on a post-it for Luca and then lets the door swing shut behind him.

"I'll be there soon. Stay with her?"

"Yeah, I'll be here. Get here safe."


When Street walks in, Chris is in bed and Deacon is in the chair next to her, telling her a story from Lila's school. He knocks gently to get their attention, wincing when it makes her jump. Deacon gives him a tired smile and leans over to kiss her forehead before standing.

"I'll let her tell you the rest. Call me if you need anything."

She musters a look that she hopes convinces him she'll be fine.

"I will. Thank you."

Deacon leaves, clapping Street on the shoulder when he goes. Stepping closer, he notices the tense lines of her body. He bypasses the chair entirely, kicking off his shoes and lying next to her.

Chris slowly turns on her side to look at his face, grateful one of her arms is finally free of IV lines. She knows he's searching hers, too, for anything that's wrong. Her eyes flutter closed before he can see the guilt and exhaustion flooding them.

Street doesn't know what to say, can't think of anything that's comforting but won't put any pressure on her to talk or to have to think about something. Taking a deep breath, he instead settles for the silence and relief of the anxiety he's felt since she asked him to leave. It put a rock in his stomach, but the last thing he was going to do was not respect her wishes, upsetting as they may be. His thumb brushes back-and-forth over her cheekbone as he cradles her face.

Something wet hits his finger. Wiping it away, he adjusts closer to her and rests his head against her on the pillow.

She didn't think she was able to cry anymore after how much she sobbed in Deacon's arms, yet she feels a small wet spot growing on the pillowcase. She's too tired to think about why, about anything, and can only bring herself to keep breathing until wakefulness leaves her.


hello! thanks for reading this update; i hope you enjoyed!

major good news: there will be another update Tomorrow! to me, ch11 and ch12 are like sister chapters: too different to be combined into one, but they flow right into each other (as we're wrapping up the hospital arc). i know updates have been a bit sporadic, but as i get further into my recovery, i plan to rededicate myself to this work. thanks to everyone who continues to read thus far! (i'll also have a few more fics up throughout next week!)

also, a little director's commentary on this chapter: Deac is an interesting character to me. Within the context of the show, i find a lot of his behavior quite awful and, because of that, he's one of my least favorite team members. I wish we got more accountability on Deacon's end for some things he says/does regarding Chris and her experiences (the scene in 5x9 where she says he knows her gives me chills). That said, I do love the team dynamic of Luca/Hondo/Deacon looking out for Tan/Chris/Street in a somewhat parental figure way, especially Chris and Deacon as we see that often despite their differences. It's clear how much him and Chris respect one another and how deep of a relationship they have, which I wanted to honor in this chapter (especially as I started writing it before I started really characterizing her family. But don't worry- major Chris/Helena moment coming way down the road). So, I hope you guys all liked the little team-centric/Chris and other, non Street, team member moments in this chapter.

all the comments and kudos are appreciated, as well as prompts! i'm active on tumblr streakyglasses, but i've heard some rumblings about discord, too? i've never used it, but if there's an active swat/stris community there- i'd love to be a part of it. if anyone has any deets, send them my way lol.

see you tomorrow!

xo, A

(p.s. how much are we all into whump and hurt/comfort in this fandom, bc i love it but i also try to write things i think y'all will like, too, and i don't want to do 50 angsty things in slightly different fonts if that's not quite the vibe lol)