Touch

The gun grip was more familiar then his hand, an extension of his hand if anything. Smooth. Cool. Assuring.

He was cleaning it while Jack watched TV, pausing to hold the grip. Disgusted.

The grip was exactly like Haley's hands after a case.

When he would come home from an especially bad one, no matter the hour, she'd met him at the door. He'd drop his bags and hold her, the butt of his Glock in the way. She'd take him upstairs and he would lock up the gun. And she'd run her hands over his face and through his hair. Smooth. Cool. Assuring.

She never asked about his cases. She didn't want to know, and he didn't want to tell her. Maybe those secrets hadn't been good for them. Maybe he should have told her why he felt complied to chase all the bad guys down and lock them up. He never had a problem with listening, asking questions of her day. Those answers were his refuge, a normal life he couldn't have no matter how hard he tried to be just a husband and father while not on a case.

"Daddy," Jack's hands on his face. "Don't cry."

He blinked away the blur, set the gun down, and picked Jack up. "Sorry, buddy."

"It's okay." Tiny hands around his neck. "Daddy? Can I be an FBI agent when I grow up?"

Remember how to talk, Aaron. "Why?"

"So I can catch bad guys like you."

"The bad guys do really bad things, Jack. Are you sure you want to be an FBI agent?"

Jack nodded. "If everybody wanted to catch bad guys there wouldn't be as many. So I'll catch bad guys like you, and there won't be as many. I already helped catch a bad guy and I'm only four, Daddy. You and I caught Mommy's bad guy. We're like Batman and Robin."

"Yes. I couldn't have caught him without you." And it was true. If Jack hadn't hidden, given him the time, Foyet would've killed Jack too and gone to ground, waiting for the next opportunity to cause him hell.

"So I'm like an FBI agent in training."

"A very good agent in training."

"So can I join the FBI when I grow up?"

The gun grip felt the same as Haley's hand, except it couldn't rub away the headaches like she had. "Yeah. When you're older."

"And you'll teach me?"

"I promise." Promise to teach Jack about love, about his mother. And now about guns and killing and all the horrible things people do.

"How you put your gun back together?"

He settled Jack onto his knee. "Okay. Watch and I'll show you how to put it back together."