"Morgan, it's not your fault."
Right. My responses are short. Truth is, I checked out of the conversation some time ago. I know they mean well. I know that they are trying to be supportive, that they already suspect what is to come. They know based on my grim retorts. They already know that I hold myself responsible…I am responsible. I know that it hasn't registered with them yet. They both are trying to be strong…they are strong, but neither of them have allowed themselves to feel…yet.
Prentiss…Emily...Em, she'll store it away. She would rather keep up a strong façade; try to help the rest of us. She would rather fall apart later. The hell that she went through today, having to be the one to find the scene, to find him, to hear shots ring and not know whether boy genius was okay, to keep all of this from us….and yet she is trying to reassure me.
Jareau…Jenny…JJ, she and Hotch have this unspoken bond. He is her mentor, he probably understands her better than any of the rest of us. She wasn't there. She didn't find him. I know it's killing her. I can see it in the depths of her crystal blue eyes. Her words are warm, but her eyes are... vacant. I'll snap her out of it later…when I snap out of it.
To make matters worse, the kid got shot. Two members of our team here in the hospital...He made me proud though, he is becoming a fine agent. I have to tell him that later. He did what I should have done. I would have taken that bullet, hell I should have been the one to take on Foyet. If only I had done something when he first attacked me… if I weren't distracted…if I were only… quicker. He shouldn't have been able to take me down. If my instincts were stronger… he wouldn't have been able to take my credentials. He wouldn't have…he wouldn't have attacked Hotch. We have our differences, Hotch and I, but he's…he's family. They all are. I don't even want to think about Garcia, my baby girl…this surely will be another blow to her blinding optimism, her infinite hope. I swear I won't let her light burn out.
I'm responsible for all of their suffering because I was too weak…I failed. I didn't do enough to catch that bastard and I certainly didn't do enough to ensure he stayed where he belonged. The thought of that kills me…and yet what kills me the most is watching little Jack get whisked away. The pain he will go through, not being able to talk to his father, not being able to see him again. I'm familiar with that pain. I see myself in that child. The pain Hotch will go through, his reason for living, the person he loves the most, being taken away from him…again. He is a man just like my father, giving his life for his job. Hotch's 'life' just drove away to some undisclosed location. A fate worst then death, because his 'life' will be within reach and yet still unattainable. Not for long though. I'll be damned if I let Foyet get away with this. He got what he wanted…he successfully got in my head and he successfully ruined Hotch's life. He left him with scars that will never heal. Scars that go far beyond the physical torture he endured. I will get him though. I will… for me, for my team, for Hotch, but most of all…for Jack, for the little boy who deserves to see his father again.
"Morgan…are you okay?" There it is again. The warm, concerned voice conflicting with the vacant blue eyes.
"I'm fine. We should go check on Hotch and Reid."
.