A/N: Hello again friends! I know some of you have waited quite a while for this story. It's taken me nearly two months to finally get this finished so I could start posting. This is the story that I'm the most proud of. I hope you like it. I was going to say "enjoy" but that may not be the right word for a story like this. This is the emotional rollercoaster that goes along with the total breakdown of Aaron Hotchner. Each chapter is based around a different song.
To Brummie10 - Here's that box of kleenex I owe you! Might want to keep it close. You'll probably need it! And special thanks to those of you who read over a few chapters of this for me in advance. I appreciate all your advice and words of encouragement! Well...buckle up peeps! Welcome to "The Sounds Of A Breakdown".
Chapter 1 is based on the song "My Immortal" by Evanescence.
The Sounds Of A Breakdown
Chapter 1 - My Immortal…
He should have taken himself out of the field. He knew it. They knew it. One look at the picture of their Unsub's latest victim, and they knew this case would leave a mark on all of them. The resemblance was too close. Her hair color, her eye color, the structure of her face, it was too close. It affected them all, but mostly it affected him, affected his judgment. But none of them said anything. He could handle it. It had been long enough, right? Six months was long enough, wasn't it? He'd been in the field, working cases, running their unit just as efficiently and effectively as he always had. He was Superman. He could handle this. But they were proven wrong. They were proven very wrong.
.
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
.
Hotch sat alone at the far end of the jet, as far away from his team as he could get in such a small space. Though physically he was there, his mind was still in the old dusty house where, for the first time in his FBI career, he hesitated to take the shot. The Unsub held his victim in front of him as a shield. He held a gun to the base of her neck, just daring the big bad BAU to try to stop him. But Hotch couldn't see the scene before him. All he could see was Haley with George Foyet. God, this victim looked so much like Haley when she was younger. His breath caught in his throat as he remembered the horrors of that day.
.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
.
He could still hear her words like she was sitting next to him. He could hear the strength in her voice amid her tears, her fears. God, she was so much stronger than he'd ever hope to be. She stared death in the face and never backed down. She thought ahead, making him promise to teach their son about love, knowing then that she would not be alive to help him keep that promise. He could hear her gasps, knowing one of those would be her last. He needed to get to her. He had to get to her. And yet he was too late.
The Unsub watched the agents closely, looking for a hint of their plan. He needed a way out. Then he saw it. He knew the agent standing in front of him, slightly to his right, couldn't take the shot. He could see the inner turmoil dancing across his face. He could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Most importantly, he saw the slight dip in the way he held his gun. And he knew immediately that he'd won. A sick, twisted grin splayed across his face, and before the team could react, before Hotch could correct his mistake, the Unsub pulled the trigger, his young victim falling to the ground like a rag doll. Three shots rang out simultaneously as the Unsub fell to the ground behind his victim.
Hotch stood frozen, staring at the scene before him.
.
You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
.
His eyes were shrouded with pain and unshed tears and he stared blankly out the window as this afternoon's events began to collide with the events of six months ago. In this latest victim, all he could see was Haley. Her voice echoed in his head, her final requests, her strong yet broken sobs piercing his already broken heart with every breath he took. And every breath hurt. He felt like the walls of the jet were closing in around him. It was his fault. The young victim's death, Haley's death, they were both his fault. He could have prevented their deaths. He wasn't fast enough to save them.
He jumped upon feeling a hand on his shoulder. JJ was standing next to him.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she spoke quietly. "I'm getting some coffee, you want some?"
He barely made eye contact with her as he shook his head. The lack of eye contact worried her. He always looked people in the eye. It was his trademark, so to speak. Her heart clenched as she took in his appearance. She hadn't seen him look this broken since her funeral. She placed her hand on his shoulder again. He tensed at her touch, clenching his eyes tightly.
"Don't," he quietly pleaded, jerking his head away, keeping his eyes closed. His breath caught in his throat. He forced it out and took another breath. Barely audible this time, he practically begged through his clenched teeth. "Please, don't." These were the only words he had spoken since the afternoon's tragedy.
JJ nodded and slowly made her way back to the other end of the jet where the others waited. She shook her head, acknowledging their unspoken question about their boss' well being.
Hotch fought to regain his composure. He could feel the tears threatening as the lump in his throat grew. He couldn't breathe. He felt like the air was being squeezed from his lungs. And his chest ached, like someone was using his heart as a wishbone, tearing it to shreds right down the middle. He was having a panic attack. He did the only thing he could think to do in such an enclosed space. He got up quickly and went into the bathroom. Locking the door, he dropped to the floor, put his head between his knees and tried to breathe. He loosened his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt. Get a grip, Hotchner! His mind screamed over and over. Get a grip! Once he was finally able to take some deep breaths, he got up and went to the sink. He splashed cold water on his face and ran his hands through his hair. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, but barely recognized the shell of a man staring back at him. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Get a grip.
The team watched as Hotch made his way back to his seat and continued to stare out the window. They all noticed the change in his appearance. Worry overtook them as they looked to each other for answers.
"I'll try to talk to him when we land," Rossi said. The others nodded in agreement. They spent the remainder of their flight in silence.
.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
.
As soon as the jet landed Hotch bolted for the door. This surprised everyone. Usually he would wait for the others to depart first. Knowing this, Rossi had planned to stop him once everyone else was off the jet to talk to him without an audience. Now he had to hurry just to catch up. He tried to get his attention, but Hotch simply kept walking. It took several tries before he got any sort of response.
"Hotch, please, just listen to me for a second."
"Don't, Dave."
"This wasn't your fault."
"How can you possibly say that?" Hotch spat out as he wheeled around to face his one time mentor. "Of course it was my fault! That girl's death was every bit as much my fault as Haley's was!"
"You didn't kill Haley, Hotch."
"Stop, Dave. Just stop."
"No. You need to listen to me."
"We're not going to do this right now."
Hotch turned to walk away. Dave reached out and grabbed his arm.
"Hotch, it's only natural for you to feel guilty. After everything you've been through…"
Hotch cut him off with a warning glare of his now ice-cold eyes. "Don't you do it, Dave." His anger continued to build. And build. And build.
"You did everything you could."
"Don't."
"Survivor's guilt is a very powerful thing."
"Don't you fucking profile me, Rossi!" Hotch exploded.
The team stopped dead in their tracks as they heard the demanding anger in the voice of their always well-controlled Unit Chief as he turned on his best friend. Hotch glared at him, his eyes now filled with unchecked fury. His nostrils flared and his body tensed as he took shaky breaths. His voice changed from furious rage to an unnerving threat-filled calm in an instant. "Don't."
They all stood dead silent as Hotch turned again, making his way to his car, throwing his go bag in the back seat forcefully before getting into the driver's seat and peeling out of the parking lot.
Rossi sighed and ran his hand through his hair as the team approached. Morgan was the first to speak.
"Rossi, what is happening here?"
Rossi just shook his head. "We should have seen this coming."
"How could we?" added Prentiss. "He keeps everything bottled up so tightly."
"We knew how much pain he was in," JJ chimed in. "We should have watched more closely."
"What do we do now?" Reid asked quietly. "Should someone go after him?"
They all looked toward Rossi.
"We all know exactly where he's heading right now," Rossi sighed. They nodded in agreement. They all knew he was on his way to the cemetery, to the one place where he could find some sort of comfort, solace, simply by being close to her. "He needs a little time to cool off and try to process this. I'll give him some time and then go check on him."
Morgan scoffed. "You really think he's just going to open the door and welcome you in, just like that?"
"He's not going to have a choice," Rossi stated vehemently. "And once he lets me in I'm not going to let him out of my sight."
They looked at him warily. Something in his last statement worried them, even more so than they already were.
"Dave," Prentiss started, but was cut off.
"I just don't want him doing anything stupid. I've never seen him in a state like this or react this way to anything. I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me a little bit."
"What about Jack?" Morgan's concerned question about Hotch's only son made JJ jump. Her parental instincts went on high alert. There was no way Hotch could take care of Jack in this condition.
"He's at his grandparents for the weekend."
JJ closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."
They all made their way back to the BAU to finish up their paperwork and put this horrendous case behind them. All of them had trouble focusing, their minds clouded by thoughts of their boss slowly breaking, merely hanging on by very loose threads. A half an hour later Rossi emerged from his office, jacket and go bag in hand, ready to face whatever Aaron Hotchner could throw at him. Morgan caught up to him in front of the elevators.
"Do you want some company?"
Rossi shook his head. "No. He wouldn't want you guys to see him like this. Bad enough that you saw him lose his cool on the tarmac." He clapped a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "I'll call and let you know what's going on."
"Okay."
Rossi nodded as he entered the elevator. The others stared at each other. They remained quiet, filled with concern for the fate of their friend.
.
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along.