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This was actually the first fanfic I wrote about S.W.A.T., and this story sparked this entire series. I just wanted to see Street get the comfort and love he deserves. I hope you all enjoy!
Happy reading!
The SWAT team cautiously opened the door to the warehouse where the suspect was hiding and entered.
Like a synchronized routine they fanned out and began clearing the large warehouse inch by inch.
Suddenly bullets started flying, and they dived for cover.
According to the location of where the shots were fired, the suspect was in the far right corner of the warehouse.
Hondo motioned for them to move in on the suspect, and they all followed without hesitation. Quickly they cornered the shooter, hiding for cover behind the various boxes and shelves filling the warehouse.
Once they had the shooter surrounded, Hondo spoke up. “This is S.W.A.T.! Put your gun down!
The man came out with his hands upon his head and a smug grin plastered on his face. Street tensed at the easy arrest and was about to yell at Hondo that something was up, but he was a second too late.
Another round of gunshots fired from above, one managed to clip Street in the arm and two lodged themselves in Hondo’s chest.
Their commander stumbled backwards as dove behind one of the shelves. He dropped into a crouch, holding his chest in pain. Suddenly, he collapsed to the ground, unresponsive to the world.
Street gasped in horror. Fortifying himself, he gripped his bleeding arm and sprinted to Hondo in panic. He dropped to his knees besides his commander as his teammates took care of the shooters.
“Hondo!” Street yelled. Hondo laid unmoving, not breathing in a growing pool of blood.
Street’s breath hitched in his chest and tears prickled his eyes. “CALL AN AMBULANCE!” He rasped at the nearby police officers. His trembling hands skimmed over Hondo’s bulletproof vest, where there were two deep bullet holes.
A firm hand grasped Street’s shoulder, “He’s gone, Street.”
Street woke up to his heart trying to leap out of his chest. His breaths came in panicked spurts and tears streamed down his face.
He scrambled backwards until his back slammed into the headboard of his bed. He gripped his knees, trying to calm his racing heart.
His bedroom smeared into unrecognizable colors in front of him, distorted by his tears. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen into his hyperactive lungs.
Sobs bubbled up in his throat. Leaning forward, he tucked his head between his knees like they tell you to do on tv, but it only seemed to make his panic worse.
Every time he closed his eyes, Hondo’s blood flickered across his vision. The blood of someone he considered an older brother.
His breathing picked up even faster at the thought and he choked on lack of air.
Not knowing what else to do, he fumbling on his nightstand for his phone and hit the number on speed dial.
“This is Hondo.”
Street’s gasps answered his commander and friend. He sucked in a shaky breath in order to try and calm his breathing down enough to form words, but he couldn’t think straight.
“Street? Kid?! What’s wrong?!”
A single sob echoed through his apartment, and he tried one last time to answer. “Hond…can’t—breathe—night…mare.”
At the end of his sentence he was left gasping and swaying from light-headedness. Black spots danced across his vision. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Okay, I’m coming! Street, did you hear me? I’m coming! But until I get there I need you to take some deep breaths with me, okay? Can you do that?”
Street’s knuckles were gripping his knees so hard they were white. His entire body shook with the force of his panic attack, but he managed a grunt to answer Hondo.
Thankfully, Hondo understood.
“All right, I need you to take deep breaths. In for five. Out for five. Okay? In. One… two…. three… four… five…”
Street slammed his eyes shut trying to focus on breathing, but images of Hondo dying flashed before his eyes causing him to sob again in panic. “I…can…t.” He choked out, whimpering at overwhelming panic that swept over him.
“Yes, you can Street. Try it again. In. One… two… three… four… five… Out. One…two…three… four… five… Again.” Hondo repeated the exercise over and over.
Street tried each time to breath in and out on those counts, but he couldn’t make hold it that long. He sucked in gasping breaths and released trembling ones, but he couldn’t do it. Tears came faster, and he curled into himself with his hands pulling at his short hair.
The ringing in his ears drowned out Hondo’s concerned shouts, leaving Street even more panicked than before.
The black at the edges of his vision grew and he was ready to pass out, when strong hands gripped his arms.
Street’s eyes flew open in shock and he was met with the concerned face of Hondo. Street chocked out a sob of something akin to relief. He gripped tightly onto Hondo’s t-shirt to assure himself that his friend was still alive and was really there.
“Hey, you’re okay. I need you to breath with me.” Hondo’s voice ordered him, and he nodded.
Hondo sat in front of him on his bed and detached Street’s hand from where gripping his shirt and held it flat against his chest, where his heart was.
Hondo placed Street’s other hand on Street’s own heart, so he could match his heartbeat with Hondo’s.
“Breathe with me. In. One… two... three… four… five… Out. One…two… three… four… five…” Hondo’s ordered, not breaking eye contact with his younger friend.
Street inhaled shakily and released the breath on five. Again. He inhaled and exhaled with Hondo’s counts. Pushing through the need to breath faster so he didn’t let his commander down. With every full breath his vision got a little clearer and his heartrate began to slow.
Having Hondo actually there helped soothe his panic more than the breathing exercise. Tears continued to fall from his cobalt blue eyes, but after a few minutes he was well out of the throws of his panic attack.
Hondo grinned at him and rested s comforting hand on Street’s shoulder. “You okay now?”
Street huffed out what sounded like a mixture of a chuckle and a sob.
Hondo tugged him in for a hug, and Street buried his face in between Hondo’s neck and shoulder. He cried into his older friend’s shirt, remembering the fear and sadness he had felt when said man had died in his nightmare.
“Shhh, I got you. You’re safe.” Hondo wrapped his arms around the shaking kid and rubbed a comforting hand over his t-shirt covered back.
After a couple minutes of crying, Street collapsed utterly exhausted into Hondo’s chest, periodic hiccups replacing his sobs. He turned his head, so his ear was pressed firmly over Hondo’s strongly beating heart to eliminate any lingering fears from his mind.
Street’s eyes slowly drifted closed and his breathing started to even out as he drifted towards sleep. His body began shutting down from the emotional turmoil it’s been through since he woke up.
Hondo shifted underneath him as if to get up, and Street’s eyes flew open. Without thinking, he grasped Hondo’s shirt as his fears began to rise again.
“I’m not going anywhere, kid. I just thought we’d been more comfortable lying down instead of sitting up.” Hondo assured his younger friend, knowing exactly what the younger was thinking.
Street blushed in embarrassment and sleepily drew back from Hondo. As soon as he was sitting upright, Street swayed in exhaustion and would have knocked his head on his nightstand had Hondo not managed to catch him in time.
Smoothly, Hondo manhandled him into a more comfortable position and climbed under the sheets with him. He moved Street so that his head was laying propped up on Hondo’s chest, assuring the younger boy that he was alive and wouldn’t leave.
Street breathed a sigh of relief and drifted off to sleep, knowing that Hondo was alive and safe and that he was safe and protected as well. Nothing would get him while was Hondo was there. Not even nightmares.
And with that comforting thought, Street fell asleep.
Hondo had never seen the kid so panicked and frightened before. Street didn’t even notice when he came into his bedroom and called out his name. It took him physically grasping him to even notice he was in the room.
He had been ready to call an ambulance when he entered the kid’s apartment and the kid hadn’t answered, but soon after he surveyed the small apartment he heard the panicked gasps coming from the bedroom.
The kid had looked like a ghost; his face pale and sweaty. Street had struggled to draw in a full breath, and he had been shaking like a leaf.
Hondo had immediately remembered one of the boys he had taken under his wing, who had severe panic attacks. Running on autopilot, he had raced to the kid’s side and instructed him to do the breathing techniques he had learned and calmed him down from there.
Hondo and Street had gotten injured earlier that morning when they went to arrest a suspect. Hondo had taken two to the vest and walked out with a couple nasty bruises. Street on the other hand got his shoulder clipped by a flying bullet.
Maybe getting shot had an effect on him? Maybe he needed to talk to him about seeing the therapist at the precinct...
He’ll save those questions and thoughts for the next day, for now he’ll just keep vigilance over the younger boy. He’ll make sure no more nightmares and panic attacks plagued him while he is here.
And with that Hondo pulled the kid in closer to his chest and shut his eyes, ready to catch some light sleep before morning dawned.
—//—
When Street woke up the next morning, the bed was empty. The bed sheets tangled around his legs.
He hadn’t been plagued with any more nightmares—none that he was aware of at least—which was good because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his coworker even more that he already has.
Street yawned, rubbing his eyes. He stretched his stiff limbs across the length of the bed and curled up on his side.
The smell of eggs and biscuits as well as the sounds of pans hitting the stove top alerted him to the fact that Hondo didn’t leave.
He’s surprised. Though he really shouldn’t be given Hondo’s caring nature for all of his friends. Street’s never had someone to do this kind of thing for him. His father being abusive and his mother in jail didn’t leave a lot of room for parental comfort. The only one who had shown any interest in him was Buck.
Street sighed and climbed out of bed, ready to face the inevitable embarrassment. After years of living in an abusive household followed by years where he was constantly on call, he learned to sleep in sweatpants that fact dampened a fraction of his embarrassment.
Reluctantly, he exchanged his thin t-shirt for a lightweight black t-shift mindful of his injured arm, which screamed in protest at every movement. Street slowly padded into the kitchen to face reality.
Hondo was standing in front of the stove scrambling eggs when Street entered the kitchen and dropped onto one of the bar stools. Street folded his arms and buried his face in them. A killer headache pounded his head and left him a tad nauseous, especially with the bright lights overhead.
“Here.” Hondo stated, setting a pill bottle down in front of his arms.
Street peaked his head out from his arms to stare up at his older friend, who raised his eyebrows. His expression clearly asking if he was going to fight him on taking some for his headache or not.
Street sighed and sat up, squinting at the lights and swallowing two of the ibuprofen tablets. Hopefully they kick in soon and alleviate his headache.
“Sleep good?”
Street shrugged and rubbed his eyes again. “Yeah, for the most part. What time is it?”
Hondo glanced down at the clock on the oven, “About 7:20 a.m.”
Street’s eyes widened and he got up, “Crap! We’re going to be late for work.”
“Hold on, Street. I called the team off today, figured we could all use the break after the close call yesterday.” Hondo grinned, setting down the spatula and checking the timer for the oven.
Street sighed in relief and fell back down on the barstool. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I hope you don’t mind that I raided your kitchen. I figured you’d be hungry for some breakfast after last night.” Hondo eyed the kid, seeing his complexion looking better.
“Yeah, about last night…” Street started, rubbing his hair. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I just…thanks for coming and then staying afterwards. You didn’t have to do that.”
Hondo set the eggs off the burner and reached behind himself to turn off the oven. “Don’t mention it. It’s what we do. We’re your family now, you can call us anytime you need us.”
Street’s throat clogged up with unshed tears, and he swallowed. He nodded and stared defiantly down at the island counter, forcing the tears away before they could fall. Gosh he was such a wimp.
“You want to talk about it?”
“It was just about what happened at the warehouse yesterday,” Street shrugged nonchalantly and picked at his sleeves.
“I figured.” Hondo smiled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “But you’ve gotten shot before, so why is this time different?” Hondo asked curiously.
Street raised his eyes to meet Hindi’s brown irises. His eyebrows twitched in confusion. “My dream wasn’t about me. It was about you.”
Hondo raised his eyebrows in shock.
“You took two to the chest. You could’ve died. I guess that didn’t sink in till last night.” Street shrugged embarrassed, avoiding Hondo’s gaze. “You’re the closest thing to a family that I have.”
Hondo’s eyes softened and he reached over to ruffled Street’s short hair like an older brother. “It takes more than a couple bullets to knock me down, kid.”
Street grinned at the endearment. “Thanks, Hondo.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I called the team over for breakfast. I figured we could use a team bonding day.” Hondo admitted, laughing at Street’s jokingly horrified face.
The doorbell rang a second later.
“Come in!” Hondo yelled, laughing as him team practically fell through the door and into the apartment. They moaned at the delicious smell of food.
“Street! My brother!” Luka yelled, wrapping his arm around the younger’s shoulders.
Chris reached over and rubbed her knuckles on Street’s brown hair. “I hope you have enough food.”
“How much food constitutes ‘enough’?” Street asked, pushing Luca off of him.
“Well, one time Luca and Tan ate twenty hot dogs at my barbecue.” Deacon admitted, laughing and scrambling another set of eggs while Hondo took out the biscuits from the oven.
Street looked at the two guys in horror.
His team laughed at his expression and took pity on him. Tan reached into the hallway and brought out a huge box of food.
Ten minutes later they were all gathered around the kitchen island, eating eggs and buttered biscuits while sharing funny stories. At one point Street caught Hondo watching him like an older brother would watch his younger brother at the playground to make sure he was safe and having fun.
Street smiled back at him and tipped his orange juice to his friend in reassurance.
Then everyone burst out laughing as Luca smacked Deacon’s hands when he went to reach for the last biscuit. While they were arguing Chris reached in and stole the biscuit for herself. Everyone began shouting and laughing as they fought for the last biscuit.
Street grinned, leaning back. Maybe he did have a family. A dysfunctional one, but a true family nonetheless.