"It was my fault. I did it."
"It wasn't your fault, nothing was your fault," the quiet, soothing voice was accompanied by a large hand resting on his shoulder and fingers running through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.
He held back a sob, shoulders shaking with the effort. "I'm sorry."
"I know," the voice held traces of the special smile he could always hear, the one reserved for eyes not mouths. He felt the soft lips on his temple, warm, gentle, and loving. "And you know that I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
He felt arms around him, stronger than he expected, and the person was shorter than he was used to. "It's okay Hotch," Garcia's voice was aiming for soothing but he could hear the tears she was trying not to shed.
"Jack, it's time to say goodbye buddy."
"Okay daddy," Jack allowed his dad to lift him onto the hospital bed. He placed a warm, wet kiss to the occupant's cheek.
Hotch watched him, silent, heartbroken tears coursing down his cheeks. "Say goodbye Jack."
"Goodnight Uncle Spencer. Sweet dreams," Jack hugged the lifeless man before crawling back into his father's arms.
"Yeah," Hotch still held Spencer's hand tightly, feeling it grow cold in his grip. "Sweet dreams Spencer."