Open Case File [COMPLETED]

Christmas

Short, but I hope it's worth it.

***********************************

"Mommy, is Santa real?"

Carter knelt at the edge of Kennedy's bed, her arms resting on the midnight blue comforter. Smiling, she reached out and tucked a strand of Kennedy's hair behind her ear.

"Of course not," Carter said. "Because allowing a strange man to trespass into your house and leave unmarked packages is not only creepy but could be dangerous."

"Oh."

Kennedy stared down at her knotted fingers, her lips twisted to the side. On her six-year-old face, the expression was endearing. A soft glow from the star-shaped twinkle lights was the only illumination in the room, giving the place a secretive feel.

"Why do you ask?" Carter asked, pulling up the covers around her daughter.

Kennedy lifted her shoulders, unable to meet her mother's eyes.

"Kids at school talk about him. They say he brings you what you want the most and I..."

At the hesitation, Carter's heart tightened and she swallowed.

"And you what?"

Kennedy rolled onto her side and shoved her balled hands under her pillow. Her wide blue eyes stared at Carter with her heart hidden there.

"I was going to ask him to bring daddy home," she whispered.

Pain ripped through Carter's chest, but she never let her face show it. Instead, she climbed onto the bed beside her daughter, folding her into her arms. Kennedy leaned her head against her mother, comforted by the strength in her arms.

"Even if your father isn't home tomorrow for Christmas, he is coming home. When he does we can celebrate, all right?"

Carter willed the words to be true. Needed them to be true. There was a crater in her chest that was growing with each day, but for Kennedy, it could never be seen. They remained that way, both of them feeling too heavily the absence of Donovan.

When Kennedy's breathing slowed, Carter gently unwrapped Kennedy's arms and cocooned her in her covers. She stared down at her precious girl, seeing too many of Donovan's features.

After easing the door shut, she crossed to her room and grabbed her phone. Moving to the wall of windows, she placed a call. Outside swirls of white tumbled though the city. The muted light of the moon sparkled off the flakes looking like diamonds tossed into the sky.

"Hello?"

"Any word?"

Brock sighed on the other end of the line, the single-action saying too much. Carter closed her eyes and leaned her head on the glass, the cold leeching out her warmth.

"He's still dark," Brock said. "If anything changes I'll call you."

Tears built up behind Carter's lids but she forced them not to fall. She took in a shuttering breath and let it out slowly.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course." He paused. "He's going to be okay. We both know Donovan, he's a fighter to his core."

Carter nodded but found she couldn't speak. The past year of staying home with Kennedy had been better than she could imagine, but the pain of knowing somewhere that Donovan didn't have her by his side, watching his back had been a factor that she hadn't accounted for.

This last mission had taken him away longer than normal and with little information on where he was. Despite knowing that he was making the world a bit better, all she wanted was for him to come home.