"I mean, yeah." Aaron chuckled, though it felt strange against the tightness lodged in his chest. It wasn't a laughing matter. "I'm supposed to be in two places at once."

Two families depending on him: the victim's, and his own. Right now they were racing against a clock, working a case involving missing children. It was a miracle he even had the opportunity to take a quick call.

Which, thank god, he had. He'd been beating himself up over leaving ever since he got the call telling him he had to come in.

"They understand." Dave reassured, a well practiced statement.

"They shouldn't have to. It should be non-negotiable." He exhaled sharply, more frustrated with himself than anything else. "I shouldn't have to call my family from a conference room and tell my kids I'll try to be home next year."

Would the four of you celebrate whenever he returned home? Absolutely. You'd still have breakfast at the place Ellie loved because they put smiley faces on the pancakes. You’d still go on Jack's choice of a family bike ride. You’d still give Aaron the ‘special’ massage you promised when the kids turned in for the night. But he had promised he'd be home.

Dave regarded him quietly. "Hey, you catch the bad guys. That means a lot to them."

Sure. Maybe. But that didn't stop him from feeling like he was failing somebody, no matter where he was. Because while he was needed here, he wanted to be home. And somehow, wanting that felt selfish too.

They understood. But he was getting tired of asking them to.

"Forgive me for asking, but..." As if Dave could read his thoughts, "do you ever consider it? Hanging up that badge?"

"I think about it every day," he answered truthfully, the first time aloud, at that. "It's not only about missing today. It's all holidays, birthdays, soccer games and recitals, and the normal days too. I don't know what a normal day in my house is. Because when I'm home, it's a day out of the ordinary." And that wasn't right.

"That's not a bad thing."

"It is." Aaron insisted, gritting his teeth.

He knew Dave was trying to help, that every word was well-intentioned. And maybe that's what made it worse. Somehow, despite his best efforts, he still managed to say all the wrong things.

It wasn’t fair of him. Dave too had sacrificed plenty over the years, but he couldn't help it. He had you. Jack, Ellie. A home that wasn't just waiting for him, but actively planning around him, counting on him. Dave couldn't truly understand that.

"How about you take some time off? You've more than racked up enough hours. Take a long vacation and give it some thought."

It was tempting, and Dave was right. Between the overtime and the cases that bled into weekends and holidays, he had enough leave saved to disappear for a few weeks. He could go home - really go home. Wake up next to you every morning, actually coach Jack's soccer team and not have the fill-in coach take over, spend entire afternoons playing with Ellie and listening to her ramble about whatever occupied her little mind that day. He could have Father's Days that didn't happen through a phone screen.

But that was the problem.

Because if he let himself have that - if he let himself settle into that normal - coming back would be harder.

And would he even want to?

And he loved his job, although "love" might be a strong word. Making a difference, helping people. God forbid the roles were reversed, he would want someone like him - like his team - assisting his family in a time of desperate need. He took pride in having that role in others' lives, all while helping make the world a safer place for his kids. It somehow helped with the guilt he was an absent father (though you insisted frequently, he wasn't.)

He was needed here just as much as he was needed at home. 

As you chatted with him, Ellie wandered over and held up a juice box, a silent plea for assistance. You popped the straw in and handed it back without ever losing your train of thought (or glancing away). 

Dread, and a touch of jealousy, pooled in Aaron’s stomach. The normalcy of it stung, the air now beginning to feel a bit too warm. He felt like a bystander in his own family's life.

Another thought came to mind - is this what always happened when he was away?

The man even offered Ellie a smile, but she paid him no mind, completely ignoring him in favor of running off to rejoin the other little kids. 

Aaron eagerly picked up his pace, desperate to intervene before the guy began invading your space even more. It didn’t look like it’d be long.

Your friendly face morphed into one of clear surprise when he came into view. You pushed your sunglasses up onto your head, as if your eyes were playing a trick on you. “Aaron?! What are you doing here?”

Aaron caught the subtle flicker of disappointment that crossed the man's face. His hand settled around you, a little more possessive than usual, pulling you closer against him. If there was one thing he wanted to make clear, it was that you were his. “We wrapped last night and took an early flight home. Thought I'd surprise you.”

“Consider me pleasantly surprised,” you grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back, you caught the tension lingering in his jaw, his subtle gaze continuing to size up the other soccer dad. Not that Aaron seemed to notice your observation - he was too focused on the man who had clearly gotten under his skin.

Your hand rested against his chest, your fingers moving absently over the fabric of his shirt, a quiet reminder that you were right there.

“How's he doing?” Aaron asked as his posture relaxed the smallest amount, his eyes shifting to the far end of the field, immediately locking onto number two.

Your mouth opened, but it wasn’t your sweet voice Aaron heard.

“Jack's doing great today.” The man answered instead, rattling off Jack's stats with the confidence of a proud parent. He looked at you, too happily, too smug. “He's gotten what? One goal? Two assists-”

“I was asking my wife.”

Your expression faltered, taken aback by your husband's strange lack of friendliness. You studied his face, searching for some explanation.

An awkwardness settled in the air, intertwining with the growing humidity, but before you could say a word, Ellie suddenly appeared, crash landing into Aaron's legs. “Daddy!”

-

“Today was fun,” you said, leaning back against the kitchen counter as you watched Aaron rinse off the last of the dishes. The words were casual, but the meaning behind them wasn't. It was an invitation, a gentle opening for him to share whatever had been weighing on him since the soccer field.

The kids had long since been tucked into bed, exhausted after a full day. Jack's team had won, and between the game, the trip to the grocery store, and the belated Father's Day festivities that followed, it was no wonder they'd been fast asleep almost as soon as their heads hit their pillows.

And now, the two of you moved through your usual end-of-night routine; cleaning up before finally settling in yourselves.

“It was.” His back was to you, putting one of the glasses in the dishwasher. He didn’t elaborate, though his tone indicated there was much more to it than that.

“Aaron.”

He stopped, his eyes finding yours. “What?”

“Is everything alright?” Your gaze searched his face, worry softening your expression. “You're…” you trailed off.

“I'm what?” He asked, a bit harder around the edges than he intended. Frustrated. 

“Acting like you have something to prove.” Your voice softened, confusion flickering across your face as your expression dropped.

“Am I?” It wasn't a challenge or even a denial. More of an admission to himself than anything else.

You studied him for a moment, watching the conflict play across his features. “Does this have something to do with Jared?”

The name almost made him flinch. His jaw tightened, and he let out a quiet breath through his nose before finally meeting your eyes.

“Is he always that comfortable with you?” he asked, trying for a casual tone that didn't quite land.

“I... no.” You stated with certainty, hands falling to your side. A crease formed between your brows, “not at all.”

He huffed, shaking his head slightly as he crossed his arms.

“Is that why you’re so upset?” You asked gently, compassion softening every word. “Aaron, sweetheart, he-”

Aaron interrupted, “it made me sick to my stomach.”

“I'm sorry-”

“How natural it all looked.” Another confused look pulled onto your face, and he continued. “Watching him stand there like he belonged beside you. The smile he gave Ellie, like he was hoping she'd smile back. Or as if he was responsible for how well Jack was playing.”

Your tone changed, switching from sincerity to more of a firm confidence. "Aaron, honey, you have no competition.”

“Well, it should have been me.”

“Aaron, it is you. Whether you're physically here or not.” You laughed, your expression filled with affectionate disbelief. “Do you really think there's anyone else I would want this life with?”

“Even if most of the time you’re living that life on your own?”

“I’m not.” You insisted, pushing away from the counter and gently catching his forearms, coaxing them apart from where he'd folded them tightly across his chest. “You’re okay. We’re okay. So what if you miss a soccer game here and there? None of that changes what you mean to us.”

“It’s not just that, though.” He looked down, ashamedly averting his eyes from yours. “It’s everything. I was talking to Dave,” at the mention of his name, Dave’s words flashed into his mind. Do you ever consider it? Hanging up that badge? “I've been thinking about taking some time off.”

Your brows drew together. The idea of Aaron willingly taking time away from work was startling enough to send a wave of concern through you. “For how long?”

“A couple weeks. Maybe longer. I don't know.” He gave a small shrug, his eyes finding yours again. “It's just a thought.”

“Would you actually want that?” 

“I don't want Jack and Ellie growing up remembering me as the dad who's always leaving, who's missing their lives.” And the thought of someone else taking his place terrified him. Someone else being there for the moments he missed, becoming the familiar face in their lives while he became the father who was always gone. His replacement. 

“Aaron, that's not who they see.” A sad smile tugged at your lips. “And you really don’t miss much. If anything, you miss the ordinary moments. But when you're home…” your expression warmed, “that's when our favorite memories are made.”

“It'd be nice to actually be there for it all. Especially the ordinary moments.”

“It would,” you agreed simply, because yeah. You’d prefer your husband to be home at all times - of course you would. “But we don’t hold it against you. We understand. But I don't want you making a decision because you're punishing yourself.”

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes as before.” A silent understanding passed between the two of you - Haley.

“You aren’t, I promise you. Jack and Ellie are never counting the moments you're gone.” You held his gaze. “They're too busy loving the moments you're here. And if you truly feel as if you need to take time off, that’s fine. But again, don’t do so because you feel as if you have something to prove.” 

Aaron wouldn’t be doing it because he felt like he had something to prove. He’d do it for a million reasons, but never that. He’d do it because he hated the feeling of jet lag and waking up without you in his arms. He’d do it to be rid of the paperwork and the nights alone and the bureaucracy. He’d do it so he never again had to show up at a family event and get a sick feeling in his stomach, a nagging in the back of his mind that some other man was going to come along and take the most important pieces of his life away, simply because he was near and Aaron wasn’t. 

He’d do it if only for you. Then again, he’d never quite been good at letting go. 

He had to get the point across somehow, but he couldn't quite find the words to explain what he was feeling. So, he settled on saying, “I just want more time with you, okay? I don’t think that’s too much to ask. It’s not a punishment to be near you. I want to be.”

“I want more time with you, too, Aar,” you echoed as if it was second nature, the reassurance coming without a thought. “I always do. And a leave of absence would be nice, but I don’t want you thinking you have to shut down your whole career just because you think some arrogant soccer dad I have zero interest in is jeopardizing our marriage. I’m happy with what you and I have.”

“As a matter of fact, I think our lives are pretty close to perfect.” You continued, quiet certainty in your eyes. “I've got a wonderful husband and two amazing kids. Everyone's healthy and-” Your eyes narrowed playfully at him. “-usually happy.” 

Aaron couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. Guilty.

“And you happen to have a smokeshow for a wife who's completely, hopelessly in love with you.” Your smile softened. “Aaron... as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing else I could ask for.”

The tension in Aaron's shoulders finally eased, if only a little. He let out a slow breath before stepping forward, his arms slipping around your waist and drawing you against him. His chin came to rest atop your head, holding you there a moment longer than usual.

“And…” you began after a quiet beat, the thought surfacing almost shyly. “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

He hummed softly, encouraging you to continue.

“I was thinking…” You tipped your head back just enough to meet his eyes. “Maybe it's time we tried for a third again.” 

“A third kid?” The question came out softer than he intended, surprise threading through his voice. The two of you hadn’t talked about this since, well, the Roy situation. 

You nodded, flush filling your cheeks. “Plus, you're kind of hot when you get all riled up and protective about us.”

Satisfaction settled in his chest. Even after years together, he could still get a shy reaction out of you. And just like that, Jared the soccer dad disappeared from his thoughts entirely. Because there was no competition. There never had been.

You weren't looking for someone else. You weren't wishing for something different. You were standing there, telling him you wanted more of this - more of him, more of your family, more of the life you'd built together.

Your lips pulled into a soft smirk. “Maybe you should put that jealousy to good use?”

“Now?” Before you could respond, his grip shifted and he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. A quiet laugh escaped you as you steadied yourself against his shoulders, his place between your legs bringing him closer.