It hasn't been quite the same without him around, bringing a little light to our dark world with his quirky comments. Sure, at the time I found it annoying, but now... now I realized what it was exactly. It was his way. His way of expressing his grief, I guess. He just channeled it into something we could benefit from. Looking back, I realize just how much it meant to us, to me. He was trying to do something, and it worked, despite all the times we yelled at him to shut up.
I remember yelling at him once for putting the lid back on the coffee can even though there was nothing left in the canister. I was frustrated with the case we were breaking our backs over and I just snapped at something he did all the time. I know he never held me to it, but I don't think I ever found another closed, empty coffee can. It seems so silly now, but at the time...
I'd finally gotten back into the swing of things, so to speak. I could look at his desk without immediately getting off track. I was able to hear a joke without immediately going back to some joke he'd made at one point or another. I was getting back to normal.
Then the oddest thing happened to me the other day while working late. I was sitting at my desk, the only one left in the office, trying to make sense of some file that I couldn't seem to read quite right. The words seemed to blur together, causing me to read the same few words more than once. Looking up and rubbing my eyes, I swear I saw him standing there, this look in his eyes that told me he'd been there, and I know he had.
Rubbing my eyes again, I looked to where I had seen him. He was still there, leaning against Cragen's door, just as I remembered him. Then, right before me, I watched as he walked towards the stairs and walked up to the crib, one hand on the rail, his gaze set forward, towards the sky. Towards Heaven, I'm sure of it.
As soon as he was out of sight, I went quietly and slowly up to the bunks. He wasn't there. Going back downstairs, smiling to myself knowing that he was indeed watching over us, just as angels do.
A/N: If you couldn't figure it out... that was Elliot.