I will search the world
I will face it's harms
Till I find my hero's welcome
Waiting in your arms
Atticus Finch walked out of his office and turned in the direction of his street. He was so tired. Tired and disheartened. How could he ever win this case?
That's easy.
He couldn't. Not in a million years. And he knew it.
Yet somehow he'd still accepted the case. Not just because the judge was a good friend. Not just because he thought everyone, no matter the color of their skin, deserved a second chance. Not just because he wanted to make a difference. And not just because it was the right thing to do.
Because he did want all of those things.
The reason he took the case...
"Atticus!" The voice cut through the hot summer air and Atticus's thoughts like a knife. He looked up from the pavement where he had been staring before, watching his shoes move across the various terrain of Maycomb County.
Scout was running towards him, a smile on her face, her arms outstretched wide.
Atticus did something he usually refrained from: he gave into his deepest desires.
Setting his briefcase on the ground, he prepared to meet his child as she came closer and closer.
Soon, Atticus Finch was lifting his daughter off the street and into the safety and comfort of his embrace. She melted against him, eagerly accepting his obvious and rare physical affection.
Atticus held her there. And didn't let go.
Not even when his son approached. Not even on the walk home.
Jem had picked up his father's briefcase and Atticus rubbed his son's hair as they completed the journey home, Scout still perched in her father's arms, telling Atticus all about her day and the misadventures she and her brother had gotten themselves into.
Atticus listened with rapt attention, climbing the stairs of their house, his son by his side and his daughter in his arms. Once inside, Scout slid down to the ground and waited for her brother by the front door while Jem went to put his father's briefcase in Atticus's room. Once brother and sister were reunited, they both scampered back outside and Atticus watched their progress as they resumed play in the front yard.
Turning back into his house, Atticus realized his feelings from before of being overwhelmed and discouraged had vaporized and replaced with understanding.
He had taken this case for his children: to prove that if he would fight for the underdog, he would certainly fight for them. To demonstrate doing the right thing.
And he would forever be able to look them in the eye and tell them whatever they desired to know.