Protection
"To have loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever." – J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
The three year old doesn't really understand. Not really.
He doesn't get that Daddy isn't going to be coming home.
He's sitting at her desk, her dress cover balanced precariously on tousled brown curls so that just his blue eyes peek at her from under the brim.
She tries to smile, put up a façade for him but she can't, turning toward the observation room with a quick glance from Ryan to the boy. Sounds get caught in her throat, silent sobs taking over as she slides down the door, ruining the pleats on her pants and dislodging her badge. She picks it up, smoothing her thumb over the raised gold and navy enamel. The metal dents when she throws it at the wall, bouncing back to bump against her shoe, the polish reflecting the seal back up at her.
The knock on the door makes her jump. Her whole body has been on edge since that morning just days ago.
"Beckett? We need to go."
She swipes a hand under her eyes, knowing they'll still look puffy and red and devastated. "Okay."
Ryan has the boy on his hip, Esposito at his other side. She manages a shaky breath before holding her arms out for the toddler who burrows into her neck, loosening her hair from the neat bun and toppling her cover to the ground.
"Here," says Esposito, slipping her badge back into its place over her nameplate.
Ryan picks up the cover, handing it to her.
Her hand rubs over her son's back as she sets the cover on her head, tipping the brim down into place. She follows the boys out toward the elevator, sparing a glance back at her desk.
This first.
Then she can find out why the rickety brown chair next to her desk will never again creak when he leans onto her desk to whisper 'I love you' into her ear in the middle of a case.
Why her son – their son – will never really get to have a father.
But this first.
Just before she steps into the elevator with Ryan and Esposito, she can almost feel his hand at the small of her back, the breath of air against her ear, and the murmured proclamation that he has her back. That she has this.
Her arms tighten around the toddler as she hits the button for the lobby.
She can do this.