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Felix’s sleep is rudely interrupted by his phone's ringtone blaring beside him. He fumbles for it, desperate to end the incessantly loud ringing destroying his eardrums. His voice is thick with sleep, his eyes barely glancing at the familiar number on the screen,
“Hey man, what's up?” He waits a beat, heavy breathing on the line waking him up faster as he gathers his scattered thoughts.
“Street? What's going on?” The voice that answers is laced with pain, hovering above a whisper,
“Felix, I’m so sorry, I need you to come get me.” Adrenaline races through Felix, his body working faster than his brain as he bolts out of bed, throwing on a jacket and slipping on his shoes while grabbing his keys from the wooden bowl on the bar. His gun is securely tucked into his waistband.
It's dark outside, a heavy cover of clouds blocking any light from the stars or moon. The lone street lamp helps his eyes adjust as he tries to get more information from his friend.
“Where are you? Can you send me the address or give me directions?”
Silence. He gets in his car and starts it up, stopping to make sure he didn't get disconnected. A text message pops up with an address. He inputs the GPS and is relieved when it's only nine minutes from where he is. He keeps his voice low but reassures Street,
“Alright, I’m on the way. Do I need to park down the street and come get you or am I good to park in the driveway?”
“Park down the street, I don't want them seeing your car and following you.” Shit, whatever Street got himself into isn’t good.
He settles his breathing and focuses on driving. Only a few cars are out, making sense given that it's almost 3am in the morning. The street lamps lessen as he maneuvers through neighborhoods, finally arriving on the street of the address.
He turns off his lights and parks as far away as he can while still being able to see the house. He’s glad in his haste he grabbed his black sweatshirt, combined with his matching dark sweats it will make it harder to see him as he approaches the broken down house.
His hair stands on end as he ducks across the street, the windows are boarded up, beer bottles strewn across the lawn. An old metal gate surrounds the house, several sections cut through, tall vines wrapped around each of the poles.
He squints, trying to see Street anywhere on the property. He finally makes out a dark figure near the driveway, slightly standing in the large bush dividing the property. He almost starts to call out but hesitates, if it's not Street he will have a whole new situation on his hands. Instead he crouches down out of sight and sends a text,
“I’m here, where are you?” He glances back up and sees the figures face light up as they look down at their phone.
Relief floods him as he recognizes the person but is immediately turned to concern as he notices the blood running down Street's face. He walks quickly, keeping his footsteps light as the gravel crunches beneath his feet. A dog barks from the yard beside him, sending his nerves into overdrive. He finally reaches Street and reaches out, grabbing his left arm.
“Hey bud, come on, we need to go.” He gets a better look at his friend and has to hide his shock at how battered he appears.
Street mumbles something before losing his footing and stumbling forward. Felix reacts quickly, slipping Street's arm around his shoulder and taking his weight. He whisper-yells as he drags him away from the decrepit house.
“What the hell did you get yourself into?” Street doesn’t respond, struggling to put one foot in front of the other.
It takes longer than it should but they finally get back to the vehicle, Felix panting as he manhandles Street into the passenger seat. He doesn't even care about the blood potentially staining his seats, his only focus being on the rapidly declining condition of his friend. He buckles him in, his hand coming away bright red after grazing Street's side.
He prioritizes his next moves, getting them out of the neighborhood. He doesn’t turn on his lights, navigating the dark streets as quietly as possible. Once they reach the main road he speeds up, headed in the direction of the hospital. He glances over at Street and frowns,
“Hey, you with me? We’re headed to the ER.” Street's hazel eyes pop open, panic pouring over his features,
“No, no, no. No hospital.” He reaches out and grabs Felix’s hand, almost jerking the wheel.
Felix lets go of the wheel and catches his hand. “Whoa, let's not kill us both. What do you mean, why not?”
Street struggles to form the sentence, his eyes glazed over, breaths coming short and fast.
He manages to catch his breath, “We can’t. They warned me. They are watching the ER. If they see me…” He trails off, a horrified look crossing his face.
Felix stays quiet, contemplating the next move. Eventually he concedes,
“Okay, but we need more help. Would you rather it be Hondo or Deacon?” He phrases it as a question but he has already turned down the street to Hondo’s neighborhood.
Street pauses, he clearly doesn’t want to but a sharp pain in his side has him trying not to groan, his face pulled into a tight grimace.
“Either, but let them know exactly what they are getting into.” Felix wants to rebut that even he doesn't know what they are in but he keeps quiet, not wanting to agitate Street any more.
They pull into the driveway, leading up to a dark brick, single story house. He puts the car in park and looks over at Street while he unbuckles.
“You have one job, stay awake. I don't know the extent of your injuries but I would bet a good amount that you have a concussion. So I emphasize, stay awake.”
Street nods slowly, his dark brown hair sticking to his forehead. Felix debates calling Hondo first or just knocking. He knows Hondo has a security system and it has probably already alerted him to someone in his driveway. He makes up his mind and dials in Hondo’s number.
The line rings once, twice, three times, and is picked up. Hondo’s deep voice is muffled,
“Felix?”
Felix almost sighs in relief but stops himself.
“Hey boss, I wouldn't be doing this unless I had no other choice. Do you have a first aid kit? And maybe a suture kit?” He hears the telltale sound of blankets being thrown off and he can tell Hondo has changed rooms.
“A suture kit? Felix, what's going on? Are you alright?” Felix glances back at the car and summarizes as quickly as he can.
“I’m fine, Street's not. He called me and I had to go pick him up from this really shady neighborhood and he’s not in great shape but we can't go to the hospital because the people who did this to him are watching it and have threatened his family.”
He pauses to catch his breath,
“And basically I don't have what he needs but we thought you might. You absolutely don't have to help and we didn't want to put you in danger because I don’t really know how bad this is yet.”There's a beat, Felix can tell Hondo is weighing his options. He finally replies,
“Where are y’all?” Felix doesn't let his hopes get up, his left hand fiddling with the strings on his sweatshirt,
“Um, well, in your driveway.” He hears a slight smile in Hondo’s voice,
“Give me a second.” Felix feels a small wave of relief, Hondo is experienced with these kinds of things, he’ll know how to handle this way better than he could. He waits for three minutes when the front door opens, the sensor porch light momentarily blinding him as it illuminates a good ten feet past the porch.
Hondo is wearing a dark blue shirt and black sweats, a backpack strewn across his back. His features are creased, dark brows relaxed into a calm expression. He regards Felix cautiously, scanning him up and down look to make sure Felix was telling the truth. Felix manages a small grin,
“I told you I was fine. I was planning on taking him back to my apartment, no one else is there and I don’t want to put your wife or daughter in danger.” Hondo nods as they make their way back to the car.
He gets in the back and starts up a conversation with Street, mainly making sure that Street knows where he is and what is going on. Street's voice wavers but he is lucid and aware of his surroundings to a point. Felix gets them to his apartment in minutes.
Street still can’t walk on his own, Hondo helping him get up the stairs to Felix’s apartment. Felix turns on the main light and leads them to the bathroom.
It’s a decent sized bathroom, the tub is on the left side, sink in the middle and toilet on the right. He has an extensive first aid kit under the sink but not a suture kit for the deeper gashes. Felix goes to the kitchen and brings one of the wooden table chairs to the bathroom, giving Street a place to sit. Now that they can see him in the light, Felix is surprised that he is even conscious.
His grey shirt is torn in multiple places, blood seeping from at least four shallow stab wounds. Bruises cover his arms and face, his left ear bleeding down his neck. His lip is busted, his right eye a dark black. Hondo takes it in and begins grabbing out materials.
No one talks, a subdued silence hanging in the air.
Hondo eventually glances back at Felix,
“Can you get some water boiling?” Felix nods, glad to be busy with a task instead of staring at Street's many injuries.
He stares at the metal pot and waits for it to bubble. He feels something rub against his legs and looks down to his fluffy orange cat chirping at him. He reaches down and picks her up, burying his face into her soft fur and taking a deep breath. The water finally boils so he quickly takes it off and lets it cool for several minutes before carefully carrying it back through his bedroom and into the bathroom. He places it on one of his brown potholders and turns to look at Street.
Hondo has helped Street out of his shirt, Felix refraining himself from reacting. Rage builds into his chest as he takes in every single bruise and gash littering Street's muscled torso. Hondo catches his eye and takes a breath, his eyes conveying more than words could. Felix haltingly nods, forcing himself to take a breath and offer his help.
“What can I do?” Hondo looks around as he grabs a clean cloth.
“Why don’t you bring another chair and sit beside him? I might need your help.” Felix catches the underlying meaning, he’s just here to support Street.
He comes back with a chair and sits right next to Street, his knee brushing up against Street’s. The corners of Hondo's mouth turn upward for a second before he focuses and begins to clean each of Street's cuts. The second the washcloth makes contact with a gash, Street flinches and starts to pull away.
Felix scooches closer, now shoulder to shoulder to prevent him from moving away. He hesitates for a second but decides to offer, sliding his right hand into Street's left and squeezing,
“I won't let you hurt me. It's just us, don't act all macho.” Street frowns but Hondo starts again and this time Street squeezes Felix’s hand, fingers interlaced as the pain takes him in waves.
Hondo works efficiently but gently, careful not to cause any unnecessary pain. He gets to a particularly deep cut and Street groans through clenched teeth, face contorted into a grimace. Felix mutters a soft assurance,
“Take it easy bud, he’s almost done.” Sweat drips down Street's forehead, eyebrows knit tightly together.
Hondo continues on, working his way through the many cuts and gashes. He finishes, Street's head resting on Felix's shoulder by the end of it. Felix resists stretching his aching fingers, worried that if he moves, Street will let go. Hondo glances up and gestures with his bloody glove,
"We need to wrap his ribs, can you help him move forward?" Felix nods, keeping his voice low when he responds,
"Yeah, hey Street, we need to wrap your side okay?" Street mumbles something under his breath, his eyelids half-closed as he lets Felix lean him forward. Hondo wraps him up, keeping the bandages from being too tight but enough to support his side.
Felix helps him back and begins to use a washcloth to clean the dried blood from his face. He applies an ointment to Street's split lip, apologizing when Street flinches away from his touch.
Hondo checks over his ear, finding it to be a small tear. He cleans and bandages it before taking a step back and looking at the lower half of Street.
"Street, are you injured anywhere else? legs, ankles, anything?" Street blinks tiredly, his face holding a look of pure exhaustion.
"No, I wanted to make sure I could get away so I protected my legs pretty well." Hondo is relieved, the tension in his voice lessened,
"in that case, everything is taken care of. Here are some basic painkillers, because of the concussion, Felix will be waking you every two hours, I will come back and we can talk about this when you are awake." Street slumps in the chair, managing a small hum of agreement. Felix gently lets go of his hand and heads to prep his bed for Street.
He fluffs the pillows and turns on the heated blanket, even though Street didn't lose enough blood to go into shock, he knows how cold the body gets after physical trauma and wants the bed to be warm for him.
Hondo helps Street out, letting him lean on his shoulder as they make their way across the small room. They tuck Street in, wrapping him up in the sage green blankets. Street snuggles into the warm blankets and sighs contentedly, sleep taking him in seconds.
Hondo and Felix quietly leave the room, shutting the white door behind them.
"Thank you, I could have handled it but I think he needed you." Hondo turns to face him, a sad smile crossing his face,
"Agreed, I don't know all the details but I have a good feeling I know what he got himself into. you did the right thing letting me know. Keep me updated on his condition. I doubt he has any internal injuries but if he shows any signs, get him to the hospital immediately, we will deal with the consequences afterwards." Felix nods, glancing back at the closed door to his bedroom.
"I will let you know of any changes. You want to crash here for the night? or take my car home? I am good either way. Tomorrow is our off day anyway." Hondo thinks for a second,
"I am supposed to have a meeting in six hours, I will take your car home and bring it back after my meeting is over." He grabs the rest of his things and walks out the door.
Felix cleans up his kitchen and sets up his bed on the couch. He takes off his sweatshirt, having turned up the thermostat so the entire apartment warms up. He sets an alarm every two hours, he will wake up Street and check his vitals to make sure Street doesn't have any hidden head injuries.
He doesn't know what Street would be mixed up in but if Hondo knows, he shouldn't worry about it.
Penelope joins him on the couch, curling up beside him. He keeps his handgun under his pillow, the familiar grooves in the handle bringing him comfort in the security of it.
He replays the call he got and tries to ignore the pang of familiarity and happiness he feels the Street trusted him enough to call him first.
He knows that they are all teammates but Street truly regards him as his friend. hmm. He will explore that more when he is not so tired.
He drifts off to the soft purrs vibrating beside him.