“Love?”

Stumbling through the front door and kicking off his shoes, Oliver placed his hand against the wall to keep himself steady. Although his appearance suggested his usual composure—crisp brown suit and neatly combed back hair, his jerky movements and the slight tremor to his frame revealed the anxiety hidden underneath.

A seemingly empty house answered his call, and Oliver’s worry spiked.

Calm down. Calm down. Breathe.

It was late, much later than when he would usually return home from work. The case which had taken weeks of his attention had finally concluded after a long and grueling trial, dragged out by the defence’s dogged pursuit of a lighter sentence. By the end, Oliver was more relieved at the adjournment of court than at the successful prosecution of the defendant.

Dropping his briefcase by the wall instead of a small waiting slot in the cabinet, Oliver forced his legs to move. Wandering through the kitchen before heading towards the living room, the siren call of you and Kalvin’s laughter urged his steps faster. Entering the room, Oliver once again found himself fighting the sudden desire to sink to his knees. This time, it was from relief, tension easing out of his body as he watched the two of you on the couch, safe and unharmed.

Weightless and unmoored, Oliver dragged himself over to the couch, settling in beside you.

Mumbling out a greeting, Oliver leaned into you as he took both your hand and his son’s hand. Feeling for your pulses, he allowed the strong and steady thrum of life to ground him, blocking out everything else except for the two bodies living and breathing next to him.

Not only was this most recent case time-consuming—days were spent poring over all the related documents and incidents as he sat through multiple court proceedings, the crimes in question were particularly gruesome. The captured murderer was an infamous criminal who had been accused of being responsible for the death of entire families. They stalked each home until it was empty or once everyone except one was left inside. Then, after capturing each member as they returned home, the criminal would make them watch as they were slowly and painfully taken out one by one.

Oliver shuddered.

It had been one thing to read about the cases. But, to watch the criminal admit to their crimes in such a cold and detached manner in front of the law was terrifying. He could still distinctly remember making eye contact with the criminal as they were removed from the courtroom today—the way they stared back at him as if they knew he had a family—

Oliver sighed, burying his face into your shoulder.

It’s okay. You’re alive. Your son is alive. Everything is okay.