A cloud of panic drifted over the special victims unit on the Monday afternoon before Thanksgiving. That morning, Olivia and Elliot had been called to a crime scene where a woman, Eliza Ware, was found raped and murdered in her bedroom and her five-year-old son, Liam, was found in the corner of the room with terror and fear in his eyes, covered in his mother's blood. The paramedics that arrived at the scene assumed the little boy had witnessed his mother's untimely death.
The child sat in the brightly colored children's interrogation room, wailing and making repetitive movements with his hands. Untouched crayons and a blank coloring sheet sat on the table in front of him, proof of failed attempts to entertain and distract the boy.
Huang and Elliot stood outside the room waiting for his father, watching through the glass side of the one-way mirror. The child wore an oversized blue t-shirt, one the detectives had given him to get him out of his blood-soaked pajamas. He flapped his hands in the air quickly as tears ran down his face.
"George, Elliot, this is Andrew Ware, Liam's father and Eliza's ex-husband," Olivia introduced as she directed an understandably upset and disheveled man to them. "He's been questioned and cleared."
"What's wrong? Why is he crying?" Andrew asked frantically, as he approached the detectives, looking at his son with sadness in his eyes.
"We were hoping you could tell us," Elliot answered. "We can't get him to calm down or talk to us."
"Liam has autism," Andrew sighed, rubbing his forehead. "He can't speak. He can hear, he just can't talk."
"How do you communicate with him?" Olivia asked.
"Sign language," Andrew answered. "He's asking for his mom." He pointed to the child who was bringing his open hand to his face, touching his thumb to his chin over and over. "That's ASL for mom."
"I know this must be very difficult for you, but we need to talk to Liam and see if he can tell us anything about what happened last night, and we'll need you to translate for us," George stated.
"I-I'm not very good at it." Andrew ran his hand through his hair. "I only know a few words. Eliza always translated back and forth for us."
"We'll need to get a translator then," George informed him. "Do you think you can calm him down so he will talk to us?"
"I don't-I don't know," Andrew answered panicky. "Eliza was the only one who could ever get him to calm down. She was the only one who understood his condition."
Elliot immediately thought of how useful Johanna would be in this situation. Right then, a light bulb went off in his head.
"I know someone who can console your son and communicate with him," Elliot stated. "With your permission, I can get her down here to help us."
"Of course," Andrew nodded. "Of course. You have my permission."
"Olivia, get the paperwork started, please," Elliot requested as he pulled out his cell phone and began to walk away, knowing that many forms had to be signed so that the child could be helped with parental permission and so any information given by the child would legally hold up in court. "I'm going to call Johanna; she'll know what to do."
"On it," Olivia stated as she walked off in the opposite direction.
Elliot dialed the redhead's number, praying she wasn't busy and could save the day.
"Hello?" Her sweet voice filled his ears.
"Are you busy right now?" Elliot asked with urgency in his voice.
"Nope, I just got home from work. Is everything okay?" She wondered.
"I have a huge favor to ask," he told her. "How quickly can you get down to the station?"
Elliot, George, and Andrew watched through the one-way mirror as Johanna sat in the children's interview room, massaging Liam's head. The boy sat in her lap, sniffling wildly, but no longer crying as he let the woman's hands relax him. When she arrived at the station, she asked his father what sensory issues the child had, and when he informed her of the few things he knew about his son's autism, she knew exactly what methods to use to calm him down.
Elliot stared at her, so impressed by her yet again. Hearing her talk about her job was incredible, but watching her in action...he was in awe. He knew she had gone through years of schooling and practice to learn the techniques and information required, but it was still so inspiring to see. It was like she was the autism whisperer.
"I'm going to go in and try to talk to him now," George told the boy's father.
When Andrew nodded in compliance, George opened the door and went in. Johanna lifted the child to his feet then helped him sit in a chair. She remained on the floor, close to the boy, continuing to do gentle sensory squeezes throughout the child's body to help him remain tranquil.
"Hi, Liam. My name is George. How are you doing?" George asked, sitting across the boy in a chair much too small for his adult body.
Liam's little hand fluttered in quick motions. "He said he's sad," Johanna translated, her heart breaking for the boy.
"I'm a horrible father," Andrew sighed outside the room, watching his son's hands move appropriately in an attempt to answer George's questions.
"What makes you say that?" Elliot wondered.
"When Liam was diagnosed a few years ago, I shut down," Andrew told him. "Eliza did everything – she took him to all his appointments, got him set up in therapy, learned sign language, all that. Me? I did nothing. I couldn't handle having a special needs child."
"Raising a child with special needs is difficult," Elliot comforted.
"Yeah, but...I didn't even try. I worked as much as I could so I would never have to go home. Because if I went home, I would have to help with Liam. And I couldn't stand his tantrums; I couldn't stand not being able to communicate with him. I felt so disconnected from him and even from Eliza. Eventually I just left. We got divorced, I saw him on the weekends. But when he got a little older, I could only see him under supervised visits because I never bothered to learn much sign language, so Eliza had to translate everything for me," Andrew explained.
"I understand that better than you think," Elliot reassured him. "It makes you human; not a bad father."
"I never imagined that I'd have to attempt to do this without Eliza," Andrew admitted. "You have to find who did this to her."
"You have my word." Elliot knew better than to make a promise he wasn't certain he could keep, but he would try everything in his power, and he knew Olivia would too – their success rate grew every year. The two of them were unstoppable, so he felt comfortable promising the man that he would find his ex-wife's killer.
The little boy emerged from the room an hour later when they finished questioning him. His eyes lit up when he saw his dad and he quickly ran toward him. Andrew scooped his child up in his arms and hugged him tightly.
"Hey, buddy," he cooed sympathetically then turned to Johanna and said, "Thank you."
"Mr. Ware," Johanna spoke. "If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to show you a few helpful signs so you can communicate with Liam better, and even a few techniques that might be helpful in getting him relax."
"I would really appreciate that."
"If you'll come with me, Mr. Ware," George began. "I need you to fill out a few papers and then we'll get you set up with Miss Rowan."
"Sure." Andrew nodded before following George out the room.
Elliot turned to Johanna while they stood alone in the quieter, darker area of the squad room.
"Thank you," he told her. "I feel like I'm always telling you this, but you're incredible."
"I'm glad I could help," she replied, smiling back at him, genuinely happy to help him. She was flattered that Elliot had thought of her and trusted her for assistance.
She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Elliot's gently.
"I owe you big time," he spoke into her lips, still attached by the kiss.
"Mmhmm," she smiled and nodded then broke away from his lips. "I got my certification test results in this morning."
"You did? And?" He pushed, wondering what the outcome was.
"I passed," she told him, smiling.
He couldn't help but smile back at her as he pulled her into a hug. "I knew you would. Congratulations."
"Thanks," she replied, still smiling as she wrapped her arms around his waist to hug him back. She inhaled, smelling Elliot's strong scent of cologne.
"I'm really proud of you, Jo," he said.
"Thanks," she repeated, pulling out of the hug.
They shared the same thoughts for a moment, wondering how they got so lucky to be able to turn their lives around with such a wonderful person by their side.