Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Some notes here. First, I want to thank a group of ladies who encouraged me to post this. I wasn't planning on writing or posting anything else, but here I am. Thank you. I appreciate you all.
Second, I realize that people have different interpretations of current events in the world. This is but just one of them in a sea of many.
She slipped back into the bed, the warmth embraced her as she cocooned between the covers and his arms. The heat on his skin made the lingering smell of his aftershave comforting. He didn't speak. He just held her. They breathed each other in, their palms drifted over chests and pressed into flesh to detect heartbeats.
"I worry about him."
He nodded in the semi darkness. The soft glow of the night lamp highlighted the rich tones of their lean arms and his muscular chest.
"I worry I'll get the call."
"I know, Joss."
And he did know. Taylor had come in earlier that day and Joss had hugged him tight. She had peeked in on him three times in the last two hours. Her usual energy was disrupted from the trying day.
"I've always understood the dichotomy. I'm a detective and I've walked the beat. I've seen the stares from those that indicate I'm on the wrong side and betraying people. I've taught him to follow all directions. I've taught him to respect the uniform."
John kept silent. She needed to talk about this.
"I don't know that it's enough. When he was fourteen I noticed he received stares at the station when I'd leave for a moment. It wasn't until I'd come back from the vending machine or from pulling files that I'd see the eyes relax, the mouths unclench, the hands shift from holsters. I stopped bringing him to the station then." She paused. She closed her eyes. "What if it's not enough? What if he makes a mistake and they shoot him?" She opened her eyes and searched John's.
Things across the country were tense since the Michael Brown and Eric Garner grand jury decisions, but picking up Taylor from lock up after a demonstration stressed her out. He had burns on his wrist from the too tight plastic ties and fingerprint bruises were already forming on his upper arms. Joss didn't know who was angrier between her and John. Arresting Officer Jeff Thomas might just get a visit from the man in the suit, but she wasn't sure John's wrath could manifest in more vengeful ways than her own. She'd already called her best friend, Alicia, in preparations to press charges.
She wondered how badly Taylor would have been treated if he hadn't mentioned a superior officer, if he hadn't dropped her name like the literal get out of jail card that it was. She worried about the children who didn't have that option.
The image of her baby growing up and becoming a man flashed before her eyes. He was no longer cherub cheeked and bright eyed, but a man with smooth dark skin, a deep timbre and broadening shoulders.
"Thomas will pay," John said. Deadly steel lined his voice.
She shook her head and swiped at the wetness pricking her eyes. "It's not just Thomas. It's everyone. What if he'd done something wrong? What if they thought he was reaching in his pocket? Moving too fast? Moving too slowly? Being disrespectful? What if everything he does isn't enough?"
John didn't have answers. He knew there was a disparity in how the world worked but how deep and unsettling it was didn't get magnified until he started dating Joss. He saw what she went through as a woman and a Black person and now he'd seen Taylor subjected to unfairness. John's rage was simmering, but he saw the fear and the unveiled bitterness lurking in Taylor's eyes and he wanted to soothe him, make sure it didn't consume his young soul. It was one of the few times that he realized that he would not be able to help Taylor with something. He was glad for Paul Carter in that moment.
"I can't answer that, but you've done well by him. His father has done well by him."
Joss clutched at John, her fingers digging deep into his biceps. Her fear and distress were palpable. She sniffled.
He held her tighter. All the slogans, the "hands up; don't shoot", the "I can't breathe", were real to him now. He felt a pang of regret for the harsh words he'd thought when stuck in traffic because of an earlier protest.
"I don't want to bury my baby."
John's heart jolted at the words then dulled into a steady ache. He loved Taylor like a son and losing him would hurt deeply, but it would devastate Joss.
Joss couldn't imagine Taylor donning a suit for anything other than a graduation dinner or a wedding reception. Seeing the busted lip and the resignation in Taylor's eyes had broken her. It didn't matter how sweet of a boy he was the world wasn't built for him, and this time she couldn't make it better by kissing his wounds and giving him a fist bump. Even with all the preparations, even after constantly having the talk, it might not be enough.
Her legs tangled with John's in the silence. The air was heavy with uncertainty.
There was nothing John could say to make it better.
There was nothing Joss could do to make it better.
In that moment America's faults threatened to suffocate them in her denial of promises made, but not kept.
A/N: This story is not meant to bash all law enforcement officers, but to offer one, hopefully slightly nuanced viewpoint through the setting of a fictional universe with fictional characters.
