He finds her in the second observation room, the one in the back that they only use during busy cases. The lights are off. The only sound in the confined space is her breathing and the rustle of fabric as she trembles in the far corner. She starts when the door clicks closed behind him.
He nearly trips on her shoes, kicked off in the center of the room, but he catches himself on the wall and slides down next to her. He's careful not to touch her.
"You're okay," he whispers, breaking the near silence.
Her breath rushes out on a near sob, sucks back in as she tips her body into his. "I know," she murmurs into the sleeve of his jacket. "I know, but…"
His arm loops over her shoulders, pulling her close. "What do you need me to do?" he asks, mouth at her temple, feeling the vibrations under his lips.
"Just stay here," she manages through clenched teeth. "I just need to settle and I'll be good."
So he stays, his arm anchoring her until she looks up and brushes her lips over his jaw. She doesn't need to verbalize the 'thank you' as he helps her off the ground, pushes her hair back from her face as she straightens her shirt and slips her shoes back on. Instead, she just tangles her fingers with his and tugs him out of the observation room and back into the bullpen.