therandomfics:

Ask Me Anything

You had been a social worker for two years now, all grown up and living in your own apartment in the busy and chaotic New York City. You were from a smaller, much less travelled area but went to school for your Bachelors and Masters at Hudson, and never left. The job wasn’t easy but it was rewarding, and you had been blessed to find a position outside of working for the State. From your graduating class, only a small handful had managed to avoid the doldrums of foster care cases, dismissed and thrown to the wayside until the child was 18.

Anytime you managed to find time to visit your friends from Hudson, you were reminded of how lucky you had gotten with your career. Of course, they might have found shit positions and mediocre pay, but they had found something more important – love. You preferred to tell yourself that they weren’t as happy as they seemed, but social media didn’t help qwell your jealousy at all. At least you could always busy yourself with work, right? Distractions were beneficial.. sometimes.

It was Friday. You were excited to leave the office, grab some takeout on the way home and hole up in the apartment for the weekend. The phone on your desk flashed and the receptionist, Anna, called out.

“Y/N. Miss Gardella?” She asked, correcting her greeting.

“Hi, Anna, what’s up?”

She sighed and you could hear the frown on her face. “I need you to come up front please. It’s.. well, please just come here.”

Hopping up and slipping your shoes back on, you walked to the lobby. Anna, biting her freshly manicured nails, turned to you and frowned.

“I’m sorry. You’re the only one here and this kid just wandered in, said his mother had an appointment here and he’s been waiting by the bus stop for her. It’s nearly 6pm, and our last patient left at 4:30.” Her brown eyes were welling with tears as you patted her arm and motioned for her to go back to her desk.

The little boy looked to be about 8, with carrot hued hair and a slew of freckles across his face. He sat kicking his feet, staring up at the television that was playing a loop of Dumbo.

“Hey, Buddy,” you said gently, sitting down across from him. “What’s your Mom’s name? I can call her if you want?”

It should have been easy – get a name, make a call, maybe he wandered off and she was frantic. But, no, that couldn’t be possible. His mom wasn’t a patient, and the amount of dirt on his clothing implied he hadn’t been home in a while. A few cuts, a lot more bruises, and the incessant grumbling from his stomach weren’t leaving you much choice. After half an hour, you locked the door to the office and told the little boy – James – he could stay and finish Dumbo, and Anna sat with the boy and gave him a bottle of water and several packs of graham crackers. The sounds of a circus faded as you walked back to your office. Leaning against the wall with your phone pressed to your ear, you waited for an answer.

“Special Vicitims Unit, Detective Carisi.”

“Hi, Detective. My name is Y/N Gardella. I’m a social worker at The Wellspring Center here in Manhattan. There’s a child here who just wandered in, seems like he’s had a rough day at the very least. I.. don’t think calling CPS will be too helpful on a Friday night…” you trailed off and stared at the diploma hanging on the wall. All of that schooling and you didn’t know how to explain yourself.

“Mrs. Gardella, I can be there in fifteen – maybe twenty minutes. Thanks for the call,” he said, and hung up.

“Miss,” you muttered in correction and shoved your phone in your pocket.

As promised, the Detective arrived in about 15 minutes. You granted him access to the office and thanked him for being so quick.

“James,” you began, and knelt down in front of the child. “This is Mr. Carisi. He’s going to help us find your Momma, okay?”

The boy only nodded, but grabbed at your sweater as you stood up and tried to walk away. It was flattering that he felt comforted by you, but you had zero experience in your current situation. You administered psychological testing, and rarely spoke with patients outside of delivering test results.

“Looks like you’re staying with us, Mrs. Gardella,” the Detective said with a small smile.

“Miss.” You offered him a return of emotion and sat down, allowing James to crawl into your lap immediately. He nuzzled his face against your chest and left a smear of muddy graham cracker where his cheek rested.

The Detective went through a laundry list of questions. Age, last name, Mom’s appearance, phone number, school, anything. The youngster provided solid answers and the Carisi relayed them to his Commanding Officer, a Lieutenant on the other end of the phone. Turned out, Mom was a junkie and Dad was doing hard time out of state for something undisclosed. Carisi took the boy with him and promised to keep you updated on the situation. You thanked him and locked up, finally heading home. So much for a cozy night in.

That night, you called your Mom and chatted for a while, then cried yourself to sleep.

Several days passed. No word about the child. Of course, legally they weren’t obligated to inform you of anything, but you hoped someone would call. Maybe Carisi would? You rolled your eyes at the thought – why did you let your mind wander? You didn’t even know him. He could be married. He could be gay. Maybe he was a terrible person. There was no point in fantasizing about a handsome NYPD Detective.

“Y/N,” Anna whispered, slipping into your office and shutting the door. “That hot cop is back! I told him you didn’t have any more appointments and he wants to follow up about the kid.”

You nodded and bit your lip. “Right. Well, send him in. And don’t call him a hot cop – that’s so disrespectful.”

Anna rolled her eyes and let out a laugh before she disappeared back down the hall. A moment later, the Detective stood in your door way, asking to come in.

“Detective,” you greeted and stood up. You waved him in and met him halfway, offering your hand to shake his. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been thinking about you.” You stopped and dropped his hand. “I mean the situation from Friday. Is he ok?” You waved your hand towards the chairs in front of your desk and then sat back down.

“That’s why I’m here,” he replied and sank down into one of the plush leather chairs. “I can’t say too much, but we found his mother and the situation wasn’t gonna work. He’s not gonna stay with her. We called CPS, got him into emergency foster care and..”

You leaned forward and rested your elbows on your desk. “And…”

“I called to check on him and he ran away. Hasn’t been there since Sunday night. Been missing three days now.” He furrowed his brow and sighed. “Sometimes this fucking job..”

“I’m sure,” you sympathized with a frown. He looked so miserable.

“I’m sorry. Hey look, I gotta get back to work but thanks for being decent and calling.” He flashed a smile and stood up, buttoning his suit jacket.

“Detective,” you felt like you were going to vomit. “How do you handle it? Isn’t it impossible? How do you go in every day knowing it’s like James or worse?”

He laughed – though you knew you weren’t funny – and headed for the door. “I can’t answer that now, but I get off at 7 granted there’s no new case. Can-“

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you can ask me anything at 7.”

Read this series…just amazing!!