Micah discreetly brushed stands of unruly hair out of his mouth. He looked down at the owner of the wild curls, gently using one hand to smooth them down. "Caleb," he whispered, checking if his nephew was finally sleeping. Caleb was sitting on his uncle's lap with his legs around Micah's waist. He was clinging to the back of his coat and resting his small head on Micah's chest. 'Just like a koala' Micah thought. He leaned against the wall, one hand on Caleb's head and the other between the boy's shoulder blades. It had been a rough day. Micah's had started with a life-altering call at 2 am.

***

Stumbling into his Brooklyn apartment, Micah had zombie-walked into his bedroom. He barely had energy to toe of his shoes and strip down to his boxer briefs before flopping onto the bed. He had finally wrapped up a case that had haunted him for weeks, but it had drained him almost completely, as expected from being detective with the NYPD.

Micah had quickly fallen into a coma, only to be startled out of his dreamless sleep barely an hour later. He had been too disoriented to make sense of the first few words of the call but quickly sobered up upon hearing a familiar jarring sentence.

"....Mr. LeRoux? I'm sorry to inform you that your brother and his wife died in a fire at a friend's dinner party last night," a woman on other end of the line was telling the him.

"What?", he managed after a beat of shocked silence, "What are you saying? How is that possible? Are you sure?"

he heard himself asking all the questions friends and relatives asked when he or his partner informed them of their loved ones' untimely demise. It felt like his brain was thinking through fudge. This woman was trying to tell him Julian was gone? And Natalie too? In a fire? So many questions swirled in his head as he struggled to process the news through a fog of exhaustion and shock. Then something else dawned on him.

"Where's Caleb? Is he ok? Was he hurt?" he asked, dread squeezing his throat and forcing his voice to come out as a squeaky desparate whisper.

"Mr. LeRoux, your nephew is fine. Caleb wasn't with his parents at the time of the incident. He's currently in the police station here in Calais county".

"Police station?!" Micah sputtered, indignant. "Why is he there at 3 in the morning?! He's just a baby!" he continued as he jumped out of bed and went to the closet for clothes. Somewhere in his cloudy mind he knew he was being irrational, but this wasn't the time to care.

The woman was still talking but he was only half listening, still reeling from everything coming his way. She was saying something about a 14 year old babysitter and social services calling earlier in the night to confirm Caleb's pick up time. That got Micah's attention.

Social services? The vision of his precious nephew spending even a second in a group home somewhere had Micah nearly doubling over with anger. No. Just no. He wouldn't let it happen. Still, that was not the time to lose it. He simply cut off whatsherface mid-explanation and asked for relevant information. A name to start, because he wasn't listening when she first introduced herself, an address and directions. Once he got down a few more details he hung up. He was now slightly more lucid and coming back to his normal efficient self. Micah had of course missed crucial information as he hurried about half listening and hopping mad. He'd have to ask later.

Practically working on muscle memory, he quickly pulled a black hoodie on over the white t-shirt and gray jeans he wore while the woman - Officer O'Keith - was still talking. He slipped into a pair of black converse and packed a backpack with a change of clothes and a few other essentials. Then he found his keys, cellphone and wallet, slipped on his coat. He started looking for car keys and then remembered it had been totaled earlier in the day. "Fuck my shitty life" he groaned, then made a beeline for his usual car rental place, completely forgetting about the ungodly hour.

Everything from that point was a blur of hellish frustration. The car rental shop was closed. Obviously, since it was 3:20 in the morning. He considered the trains but they weren't running yet and half a day was way too long a train ride in an emergency like this. Then he contemplated calling Niles, his partner, who had dropped him off in his own car. Again, way too early for that. The man had a wife and kids for Christ's sake. He settled on finding a 24 hour car rental instead, a frightening prospect as his ex worked nights at the closest one. He hesitated for a minute, considering other options, then remembered his now orphaned nephew, squashed his ego and started towards CC&Cs Rentals.

15 minutes later, Micah was walking into the small lobby. He had been praying the whole way over that Jeremy was on a very long vacation. On safari with Corey (or Calvin?). Where they'd both be ripped to ribbons by an angry lion. His prayers went unanswered. He stood frozen at the door for several seconds as he saw Jeremy sitting behind the counter reading a magazine. Bitch Weekly no doubt.

"Would you kindly close the door please? You're letting the heat out" Jeremy said, sounding bored and not looking up from his magazine. He was leaning his elbow on the waist-high counter while chewing gum and twirling a lock of his brunette bangs around his long, slender fingers. The black shirt he wore was loose and off one shoulder. It had several slashes in it in series, making it easy to see the neon yellow inner vest underneath. The sides and back of his hair were trimmed short as usual. His hairstyle was pretty much the only predictable thing about this guy.

"I see your people skills have improved" Micah mumbled to himself sarcastically as he let go of the spring-loaded door and walked over to the counter. He stood there for a beat, waiting to be acknowledged. He had to roll his eyes when Jeremy still didn't look up from his riveting copy of Golddiggers Today. 'This is too much' he thought. "Good morning, Sir. May I trouble you for a minute?"

"Micah" Jeremy said looking at him, finally, and putting down the magazine. "Micah, why are you here? Are you stalking me now?"

Micah actually wanted to laugh at the presumptuous question but, his irritation was getting in the way. The nerve of this heartless and vain leech. "Yes, Jeremy" he said calmly "That's exactly it. Because I just loved how you humiliated me in front of my nephew, his teachers and all his friends. Oh yeah, and their parents too. I've decided I need more of that in my life and I've come to win you back."

This was exactly why Micah hadn't wanted to come here. He was forced to remember how this sadistic fuck had loudly blurted out that he was sleeping with someone else in front of a bunch of 4 year olds. Then before Micah had even gotten the chance to organize his thoughts, the dick proceeded to tell him "This is me breaking up with you. Please, don't call. It's better this way", still loud enough for everyone to hear. He then turned on his heel and catwalked out of the park where Caleb's class was having their end of year picnic party, crossed the street, and slid into the passenger's seat of a sleek Range Rover Evoque that had been waiting. In the driver's seat was Calvin or Carlson or something like that, who Micah remembered to be one of the owners of CC&C Rentals. It was the same fine establishment Micah found himself standing in.

Micah broke out of his daydream and caught on to Jeremy mid-ramble. "... And I already explained to you back then" he was saying with irritating and totally misplaced self-importance "that between your job and your family I'm not sure you can provide me with the lifestyle I need so-"

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" Micah cut him off. Apparently gay K-Fed over here couldn't read sarcasm. This fucking idiot was working as the World's Worst Receptionist, a job he only kept because he was banging the boss, and he had the audacity to be talking about the lifestyle he needs.

Micah pinched the bridge of his nose as he wondered what he ever saw in the vapid specimen before him. He straightened back up and looked at Jeremy. Slender face with high cheekbones, large expressive silver eyes framed by perfectly groomed brunette brows, cute button nose, plump pink seductive lips. 'Oh, yeah. That.' Micah thought and started to remember the bubble butt this little devil was packing, which was, regrettably, hidden by the counter.

"Micah. Are you checking me out?" Jeremy asked, his tone dripping achievement. That broke the spell. Pompous prick. Micah quickly shook it off and got back on track. He had no time for this shit.

"I need a car" he stated shortly. He fished in his coat pocket for his wallet to get his bank card out.

Jeremy huffed. "You know, pretending you came here "coincidentally" during my shift just to get-"

"Car. Now." Micah said in a raised voice, slamming the card on the counter.

***

40 infuriating minutes later, Micah was speeding to Vermont. Jeremy had deliberately dragged ass as he looked for paperwork and keys, effectively pissing Micah off. Then the journey had been plagued by road works, diversions and even a random fucking speeding ticket. It all proved to be a wonderful distraction.

Unfortunately, the last hour of the trip had been uneventful. Micah couldn't help but give into his thoughts.
Suddenly, just outside Calais county, it hit him. Julian was dead. His baby brother was gone. The baby brother he had cared for after their parents were gone. The initial shock and adrenaline had worn off and Micah's vision blurred. He started to hyperventilate. Quickly, he pulled off to the side of the road as the anxiety attack continued.

As he pulled the hand break and undid his seatbelt, his chest constricted painfully and he let out a broken scream. He flung the door open and got out, stumbling towards the hood of the car before collapsing to his knees as he struggled to breathe. He continued to hyperventilate, clutching his chest and rocking back and forth, totally helpless. He tried to fight it but, too tired to even muster a reasonable thought, he eventually just let it happen.

After Lord only knows how long, he finally started to calm down and breathe normally again. He gave himself a little more time in his kneeling position as he rested his head against the car, staring at nothing and feeling hollow. Might as well get this out now rather than in the middle of the station.

About 10 minutes later, Micah lifted his head and got off the ground now feeling a lot more stable. He got back in the car and buckled up again. He wondered briefly if anyone had seen his freak out as he pulled back onto the road. If they had, he was thankful they hadn't stopped.

***

Micah finally arrived at Calais County police station at about a quarter to 9. He barely had time to put the car in park before flying through the parking lot, up 7 steps and through the glass double doors of the squared red brick building labelled in pristine engraved limestone as the police station. He had thrown himself at the window of a very startled desk clerk - a very small, slightly chubby middle-aged redhead with cropped hair - and started firing off questions. To her credit, the tiny redhead responded to his insane ramblings quite politely after calming down from the assault. The good Lord had seemingly bestowed his fortune on Micah at last. Irene The Desk Clerk had explained that the social worker had been late in picking up Caleb. It would have been an uphill battle to get him back if he had been taken and for that, Micah was thankful. The woman then pointed to an arched doorway she said lead to the waiting room, smoothing down her pixie cut hair for the fourth time since his arrival. 'Must be a nervous habit' Micah thought, remembering how he scared holy hell out of her and feeling guilty.

Through the archway was a medium sized rectangular room. It had three long benches arranged against its magnolia walls in a broken U formation. 8 narrow floor to ceiling panels of glass dominated the entire left wall and a vending machine stood perched in the corner, also to the left of the arch way. There was a long slender table that served as a center table in the middle of the room. Micah looked to the right and zeroed in on the only two people occupying the room - a young woman and a little boy. Micah instantly recognized Caleb's mass of curly hair. He was sitting with a female officer on one of the benches. The young woman appeared to be in her Mid-twenties, and Micah guessed that would be Officer O'Keith. Caleb was staring through the frosted, floor-to-ceiling windows on the opposite wall, but clearly wasn't seeing anything. Officer O'Keith was talking to him but he was completely unresponsive. He seemed so much smaller than he actually was. Micah imagined that the 6 year old was simply shutting down to cope with the overwhelming situation. The whole scene was so heartbreaking that Micah had to look away and gather himself together.

"Caleb," He called out to his nephew, finally summoning strength. The boy's head slowly turned away from the windows and towards Micah. He straightened up in his seat as a spark of recognition lit in his eyes. Suddenly, Caleb shot off the bench and ran full speed towards his uncle. Micah knelt and open his arms just in time to receive Caleb's crushing hug. His little body shook with the force of his sobs and Micah held onto him tightly as he let everything out.

Micah stood with Caleb's arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He walked over to the long bench Caleb vacated and gently sat, leaning against the wall. Caleb continued to sob loudly into Micah's chest. Micah just held the boy, rubbing his back in comforting strokes and crying his own tears and letting out hushed sobs. 'So much for not breaking down at the station' Micah thought bitterly.

They sat there for God knows how long. At some point, Officer O'keith had quietly made her exit. Caleb's sobs slowly turned to heavy hiccuping sounds. Those eventually quieted down and now he lay breathing slow even breaths.

"Caleb," Micah whispered as he carefully tilted his nephew to check if he was still awake. As he did so, Caleb took a long heavy breath and snuggled back into his uncle's chest. Taking that as confirmation, stood up slowly and walked to the front desk. He and Irene had a quick hushed conversation about the keys to the house in Mistley Creek where his brother lived. He had a spare obviously, but he still needed to collect the others. The keys which were on his brother and sister-in-law were evidence, as he knew. He was informed that the babysitter kept the only other set. He also asked about the fire and who was overseeing the investigation. Lastly, he asked about social services, still a little concerned about that. Irene informed him the social worker had been updated about the situation and would be visiting the house in the morning. Micah sighed with relief.

Now he had time to settle down and think, Micah had more and more questions that he was desperate to find answers to. Still, priorities. He had to get Caleb home and into bed. He collected the information Irene had jotted down and tucked it into his back pocket. He made his way out of the station and headed for his rental.

With some expert maneuvering he managed to get Caleb into the car and buckled in without waking him. He got into the driver's seat and made his way to his brother's place. The drive went on without incident and 15 minutes later he was in the driveway. As Micah sat in the driver's seat staring at the front door, reality hit, yet again. For the first time ever, he would walk through that door and Julian and Natalie won't be there.

He began to realize that life would never be the same again. More harsh realities were coming. There was no crying once and getting over it. Caleb was the only family he had left. He doubted being a detective and a single parent was something he could handle too. Still, giving Caleb up was just not an option. He would have to try to make it work somehow. As he sat thinking about how things would change, his last 48 hours began to catch up with him. He switched off the engine and got out of the car. He came round to the passenger's side to gather a sleeping Caleb up into his arms. He made his way up the familiar cobble stone walkway and stairs of the front porch. Tightly holding onto Caleb with a powerful arm, he slotted the key into the lock with his free hand, unlocked the door, and gently turned the knob.

He closed the front door and stood the for a minute. Staring down the long wide hall that led straight to the back door. He looked right, through the archway into the living room. Nothing was out of place. He looked back down the hall, to the kitchen door which was on the same wall as the living room archway. It was closed. There was another archway opposite the kitchen door. That led to the dining room.

He decided to look through everything later and eventually moved up the stairs to the left of the entry way. On theHe landing he veered right towards caleb's room and opened the door. He took in cream carpeting, navy walls and chestnut furniture before finally noticing the explosion of toys everywhere. 'Toys R Us threw up in here. Violently.' Micah thought disapprovingly. He set about changing Caleb into pajamas and tucking him in. The disaster will be dealt with later.

He made his way to the guest room directly opposite Caleb's room, switching off the light on his way. He left Caleb's door and the guest room door open so he could tell if the boy got up. Micah was a light sleeper so any movement would wake him. He proceeded get ready for bed himself. He had left the backpack in the car but luckily he had an emergency stash in the guest room closet.

After changing, checking his messages, calling a raging Niles and explaining everything, then calling the raging captain and explaining everything, arranging for a few personal days which Niles and the captain helped with, Micah settled into bed.

It had been a rough day and it wasn't even noon yet. Tomorrow would probably be worse. The weeks to come would most likely be complete hell. Just before he finally drifted off to bed, one question popped into his head. Who the fuck called social services?