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It happened in an instant. One wrong call, and here you are, a bullet in your hip that’s lodged in your stomach, internal bleeding so severe you’ll die on your way to the hospital.
So, you’re lying on the floor in the living room of the unsub’s house. The local PD are arresting her and the team are with you. Even Penelope’s here, having being called in earlier for her technical skills.
You’re the youngest on the team, having being recruited at a mere eighteen. You didn’t have any family so the BAU seemed the best route to take, providing an equal mix of desk and fieldwork. You’ve been there just shy of eighteen months and in that time, you found your family. You found brothers in Spencer and Derek, sisters in JJ, Emily, and Penelope. You saw Rossi as a mother, always making sure you’ve eaten enough and getting enough rest. That left Hotch as your father figure. The man’s stoic, anyone can see that, but under that façade lies a gentle smile and fatherly advice.
Now, they watch a member of their family slowly pass.
Immediately, Hotch is by you, holding your hand and resting your head on his lap. His free hand rests in your hair.
“Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?” He asks, lightly tapping you face. Your eyes flutter open slightly, and a faint smile crosses your face.
“Hotch?” You ask and the unit chief nods. “Hey.”
“Hi kid. I need you to hang tight, okay? The medics are on their way but I need you to stay awake. Can you do that?”
The team haven’t heard that tone of voice used before, except when he’s consoling Jack after a scrape. You shake your head.
“We both know…where it’s g-gone,” you reply, slowly moving your hand to rest on your stomach. The team are in pain. Dave’s heart aches, an arm around Emily. He can’t just stand and watch you die. No, he can’t. You’ve easily got forty years on him—you should outlive him, not the other way around.
Emily can’t look. Her eyes sting with tears and her lip quivers. This is you lying there, the same kid that asked her her favourite animal the day you first met, the same kid that offered to share your ice cream with her, and the same kid that asked her for relationship advice.
“No, no don’t say that. You’re going to be okay. Just hang on, please,” Hotch begs, gripping your hand tighter than before.
Penelope is right next to Derek, clutching to his arm like it’s her lifeline. She doesn’t know what to do. You’re the sunshine in the office. Every morning you waltz into her office, a cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee in your hand, and talk to her about anything and everything. More often than not, it was about Harry Potter. She fondly remembers you have an affinity towards the series and are a proud H/N.
Derek doesn’t want to believe it. You were trying to beat him in sprints last night. You two raced up and down the corridor, Rossi timing you to try and see who’ll win. Derek did, but only by half a second. It was a great way to destress before the big day, especially since you can’t drink. No one minded, except maybe those in the hotel, and everyone found it hilarious. You didn’t want to give up, only doing so when Hotch came out to scold you. It was hard to take him seriously when he was in his pyjamas.
“Hotch. I-I’m gonna…miss you,” you stutter out, taking laboured breaths. You don’t know how long you have left, but you know it isn’t very long.
JJ grabs Spencer’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. You two weren’t very close, at least compared to the others, but when you came to her for any kind of advice, her office door was open. She especially remembers the time you came in after your first date, giddy and full of excitement. She was the first one to squeeze the details out of you over a cup of coffee and some snacks she stole from Spencer’s desk drawer.
Speaking of Spencer, the genius doesn’t know how to react. His eyes are fixed on the growing red stain on your shirt. That’s his sibling. The kid who spent nights at his place watching box sets of Doctor Who, the kid who always encouraged him to talk no matter how much his rambling may have annoyed the others, the one Spencer made sure was okay. He used to get you coffee, offer you snacks from his desk drawers, and a place to stay if you got bored of your surroundings. Sometimes, he’d meet you for food and take you out, listening to your troubles and trying his hardest to help.
“Don’t go. Please. Please don’t go. You can’t,” Hotch begs, letting his hand tangle in your hair.
When you first joined the BAU, Hotch immediately took a shine to you. He always kept a lookout for you, and after learning you had no family, decided to take you in. You have a room at Aaron’s house, decorated and next to Jack’s. Jack loves you, too. You get on like a house on fire. You’d help Jack with his football, help him build his LEGO sets, hell, you even sang to him when he was sick and made him soup. Hotch was eternally grateful for that—you were able to work remotely with Penelope as you learned the ropes of the technical system on the FBI.
Now, you’re fading away. You’re leaving.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I should’ve protected you. I should’ve covered you,” he rambles. You shake your head.
“Wasn’t…your fault,” you breathe out.
No, no. Please Y/N, please,” he pleads, cradling you. You slowly look at him, a weak smile creeping on you face.
“Thank you…D-Dad. I’m g-gonna…miss you the most,” you get out, squeezing Hotch’s hand once more. As you let out your last breath, Hotch panics. He starts tapping your face, shaking you, doing anything to bring his child back.
“No, no Y/N, no! N/N, N/N please,” he cries, tears starting to fall down his face. Slowly, the realisation sets in. You’ve gone.
The scream Hotch lets out isn’t one heard before. It’s filled to the brim with pain and anguish. It’s loud, too. Loud enough to make Penelope cover her ears, burying her face in Derek’s chest. He wraps his arms around her, holding her as tears drop into her hair. Rossi holds back his tears; he has to be strong here. He has to be. He can’t break down.
Spencer’s body shakes, sobs wreaking his body as his buries his face in JJ’s shoulder, who cries with him. Emily buries her face in her hands, wiping her tears in a failed attempt to stay strong, similar to Dave.
“No! No, no, no!” Hotch screams. They can’t take it anymore. Rossi walks over, gently grabbing Hotch by the shoulders. He can’t let go, he can’t. His child’s dead. He’s gone.
“Aaron, you have to-“
“No!” He cuts Rossi off. “No! I can’t leave them!”
“I know, I know,” he whispers in reply, pulling Hotch in for a hug. The unit chief lets out cries of grief. He can barely stand and if it wasn’t for Rossi supporting him, he would’ve fallen to the ground again. Slowly, the team walk out, holding each other. No one dares ask—they know the look.
The BAU just lost a member of their family.