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Everything was going so great, which is why he should have known that something bad was going to come along to ruin it.
They were at another one of Deacon’s notorious barbecues. It was their day off, so why not spend it together too? —that was Luca’s theory.
Really it wasn’t a barbecue-get-together because it was just the team and Dec’s family, but it was nice. There was no pressure. Nothing to analyze; no one to chase.
Street was occupied with playing a card game against Luca with Chris refereeing their card battle. Deacon and Hondo were busy grilling burgers and discussing the latest baseball game, which left Tan to watch over Deac’s three kids.
Street doesn’t remember the last time he did anything outside of SWAT and his team, which was equally sad and comforting. He hasn’t seen his mom since he questioned her about what happened with Hondo. She had hurt his friend and almost ruined Hondo’s career, breaking Street’s trust in the process.
He resolved not to go see her until he’d sorted out his thoughts and feelings about what she did, but that sorting wasn’t going to happen to today. He was about to win big.
Street smirked up at Luca, “Go fish.”
“NO! I can’t believe you did that to me! Et tu, Brute?” Luca clutched his chest for dramatic glare and fell onto the grass in defeat.
Street laughed at the blonde’s dramatics.
“I’m hurt, Street.” Luca belted.
“It’s literally Go Fish. How are you this upset?” Street asked, gathering the scattered cards into a stack.
Luca threw his arms in the air, “I don’t know, I just AM! It was my GAME! A piece of my SOUL!”
Exasperated, Street shook his head at his older friend. “Shut up. Let’s play again.”
“Absolutely not! I can’t play with you again, I need a new, nicer, and better-looking opponent.” Luca claimed, getting up from the ground and plopping back in his chair.
Chris snatched the cards from Street’s hands. “Yep, It’s my turn now, Shrimp.”
“Shrimp! That’s hilarious! From now on your new name is Shrimp.” Luca declared, earning himself a pointed glare from Street. Luca raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, that’s what you get for beating me at my favorite game!”
Street scowls then raises his eyebrows at Chris, his closest friend. “Do I look pink to you?” He was wearing a navy-blue shirt, so he was about as far from pink as physically possible.
She raised her eyebrows back at him, clearly saying do you really want me to answer that?
Street huffed, “Whatever,” and sat back in the wooden chair. He was just getting comfortable when the shrill ringing of his phone cut through the tranquil sounds of Deacon’s backyard.
Street frowned and dug his phone out of his pocket. It was his mom. Crap. He hoped he could avoid this call for a little while longer, but apparently not.
“You going to answer that?” Luca asked, dealing the cards out to himself and Chris.
Groaning, Street got up, “Yeah.” Street walked over to the uninhabited section of the backyard out of earshot from his curious teammates.
Street look a fortifying breath and hit accept, “Hello?”
“Jimmy! Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice! I miss you so much! I wanted to check and see how you’re doin— “
“Why did you call?” Street cut off his rambling mother, causing her to fall silent. He wasn’t in the mood to hear fake pleasantries today.
He could hear her stamper on the other end of the phone, “Well…You—Because you’re my son, Jimmy. My blood. And I wanted to see how you were, and why you haven’t visited me recently. I miss your monthly visits.”
Street rubbed the bridge of his noise and diverted his eyes from the concerned stares of his friends, namely Hondo. “It’s complicated, mom.”
“Well, uncomplicate it, Jimmy! I haven’t seen you for weeks! Is this about what that Hondo guy said? He’s putting fake information in your mind! You can’t trust him!”
Street’s blood boiled, “Stop. It is not his fault. You are the one who started lying to me, tricking me into doing things for you. Things that could’ve cost me my job.”
“That’s not true, Jimm— “
“You can’t stop lying, can you?” Street scoffed and shook his head in disappointment and frustration. He wiped a hand across his forehead. Why couldn’t she just be honest with him for once? What was it going to take?
“James Street, you listen here, boy. I will not have you saying these hateful things to me. Don’t forget who saved you from your father. Me. The same person who is suffering for that. You owe me, Jimmy.”
Street flinched at the mention of his father. He hated when she brought him into any argument. She knew that it was a weak spot for him. He still felt guilty that she was in jail for protecting them. Protecting him.
“How’s this for truthful, you’re an ungrateful brat! I sacrificed my life for you! You! And this is the thanks I get?! To be called a liar?! Of all the people, I didn’t expect you to turn on me too, Jimmy. Don’t you ever come to see me again. You are dead to me. Do you hear me?! I wish I had killed you instead!”
The dial tone pierced his ears.
His mouth felt dry, his skin felt clammy. Something wet dripped onto his hand and he looked down only to see more drops fall into his palm.
Tears.
His heart caught in his chest. His last family member just deserted him. The person who had fought for him and had sworn to never leave him by choice. She had ripped his heart out, stomped on it, and then ran it over with no remorse.
He was completely alone now.
Street swayed on his feet. The world seemed to fade around him as his breaths came faster and faster. He clamped a trembling hand over his mouth.
Sometime—he wasn’t sure when—his phone dropped to the ground. His team noticed it immediately though, as well as the swaying. They shared concerned looks and Luca cautiously walked up to his younger teammate.
As he got closer, he could see the tremors that wracked the younger’s body. “Street? Kiddo?” Luca rested a sturdy inch hand in the middle of Street’s back.
Street couldn’t control it anymore. The dam burst. He choked out a sob and buried his face in his hands.
Strong, comforting arms wrapped around him, and he leaned into them. He tucked his face into the crook of his friend’s neck and cried.
He felt hollow. Unwanted. Unloved. Useless. Worthless. Guilty. Frustrated. Empty.
“Shhh, I’ve got you, kiddo. Let it out.” Luca soothed, rubbing his hand rhythmically up and down Street’s back.
The team’s hearts broke at the sight. Their youngest teammate reduced to sobs and grief was disheartening to witness. Hondo made his way over to his two teammates and picked up Street’s phone. The local prison’s phone number was plastered on the screen.
A protective flared sparked inside of Hondo. No one messed with his team. No one made his team hurt. No one hurt Street and got away with it. Not even the kid’s own mother.
He redialed the number. A guard picked up.
“This is Sergeant Harrelson from S.W.A.T. Could you please put Ms. Street back on this phone? I need to ask her a few questions.”
There was rummaging on the other side of the phone before Street’s mom’s innocent-like voice spoke. “Hondo, so lovely to hear from you!”
“Oh, cut it out! What did you say to Street?”
“Well, I didn’t say anythi— “
“Stop lying. I know you said something to him. I just want to know how bad the damage is.”
She was silent before she spoke, “I told him the truth. That it should’ve been him who died that night not his father. He was the problem anyway. I also told them that I don’t care to see him again because he’s obviously not my son anymore.”
Hondo seethed, “You know, I’ve taken down drug dealers, rapists, murderers, but none of them even compare to you. You really are heartless. Either way, it doesn’t matter because Street doesn’t need you anymore, and I think you know that. He’s stronger without you. We’ll take care of him like the family he never had. Goodbye, have a great rest of your life, alone.” Hondo hung up and pocketed Street’s phone.
He really wanted to hit something, but he refrained himself—just barely. Now, Street was curled up in Chris’ arms. The kid looking years younger, and he really didn’t need any help in that area.
Deacon and his wife had ushered the kids inside, figuring Street would want some privacy. Now, Deacon stood, hovering over Street’s shoulders, ever the protective father.
Street’s sobs weren’t slowing down anytime soon—and with good reason. He just lost the last family member he had—by his mother’s choice. He was probably feeling devastated, alone, and lost. He needed the team more than ever.
Street wiped his face, in a poor attempt to stop his tears. Deacon and Tan patted him on the shoulder. The former rubbed his back, “It’s okay. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”
Releasing a breath, Hondo stepped forward and was going to say something to Street when the kid wrapped his arms around his waist. Hondo pulled his quaking friend in closer, “I’ve got you. You’re not alone. Never alone.” He ran and hand through Street’s short hair. “She was wrong. You have a family with us. We’ll take care of you.”
—//—
That night they all stayed at Hondo’s house. Street passed out from emotional exhaustion soon after they made it to Hondo’s place, so the rest of the team camped out around him.
They manhandled a lethargic Street so that his head was resting on Chris’s lap and his feet were propped up on Luca’s. Tan and Deac claimed the other couch, leaving Hondo to sit in the recliner.
To pass the time, the team watched old reruns and while simultaneously keeping vigilance over a sleeping Street.
One time, Street’s eyebrows furrowed and he started muttering something under his breath, but when Chris ran her fingers through his brown hair, he calmed down. The stress lines faded and once again the kid was calm.
Hondo grinned fondly at the scene. He couldn’t have asked for a better team. They were a family, his family. They would always look after each other, even after one’s own family has cast them aside.