Aaron Hotchner was not one to believe in ghosts. Having watched Scooby Doo as a kid he was sceptical when it came to apparitions from the "Other Side". When Jack cried out in the middle of the night claiming some spectre was haunting him, he pulled out all the stops to subdue his son's fears, but he did not believe he was fighting a dweller of the afterlife.
However, as he stared into his wife's face, his dead wife's face for the first time in his almost 50 years on the planet, he felt his convictions weaken.
And for the first time in his life he let himself believe, just for a moment, that it was her... That she had finally came back to him.
He vaguely remembered the collapse, through the haze and cobwebs he could see the team surround him, feel the cold floor of the meeting room saturate his then dishevelled suit. Words like 'scar tissue' and 'internal bleeding' permeated into his consciousness.
Was that it then? Was his number finally up?
He had thought he would die more times in his life than the average man, and sitting here in a theatre with Haley, her warm body gently leaning against him, not cold and limp like the last time he held her, he was at peace with it all.
When Beth had appeared in his life, it had been like a black and white TV switching to colour, a vibrancy that had been as dead as the woman now sitting next to him. He felt guilty, viewing his life with Beth with the woman she could never replace so happily discussing her and cheering for Jack playing football.
"She's not you" he heard himself utter. Was that true? Certainly they were different, but was he saying that out of guilt, or was it because he wanted Haley to see that he still loved her, trivialising Beth and his relationship in the process. It was a disservice to Beth he knew, but one he'd beat himself up for later. That was something he always seemed to find time for these days.
Hearing Foyet sing Beth's praises made his blood boil, but Haley greeted him like an old friend whilst he glared, imagining beating him to to death over and over again, until he could no longer discern who had more blood on their hands.
And then came the gunshot. Oh God the gunshot.
He was not a religious man, but in that moment he heard himself pray for the second time in his life, and the first time he had resorted to it the outcome had been one less parent returning to Jack. Haley appeared not to notice to blood streaming from her side, eyes alight with a joy that he had missed so much and seen so sparingly in the time up to her death.
And like the last time he could not stop it. He had no control. He could feel the warm blood coat his hands as he tried to force it back into the wound, to do something to preserve this moment, to keep her with him one last time.
And then it stopped, and as all good thing do, it came to an end. The film stopped, the lights came up, and never in his life had he been so reluctant to leave a theatre.
But Haley left her seat. She gave him her ring back, placing the warm band back into the hand that had given it to her so long ago.
It felt wrong.
He didn't want to leave, but he felt that time against him, running out as freely was water cupped in a shaky hand. He belonged here, with her... fuck... he could even endure Foyet, the killer embracing him like an old friend.
But she walked away from him and he was reminded once more that he could not control everything, no matter how much he wanted to. With the taste of ash in his mouth, he stumbled towards the vaguely familiar car now waiting for him, trying with all his might not to run after her.
She clearly didn't want him here, not yet anyway...
It was the beeping that woke him up. Eyes squinting against the glare of white assaulting his retinas he slowly opened his eyes, only to be blinded once more by an equally bright Garcia.
Upon reflection he could not remember their conversation, he could vaguely recall Jack running in, more balloons in the room than he had ever gotten for his birthday as a child, and Jess smiling at him. The only thing that he really focused on in his first moments of consciousness was the feel of an invisible gold ring resting in the palm of his hand.
A vision of Beth flashed into his mind next to a smiling Haley. She had given her permission, and he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.
A/N: Hello! It's been a few years since I published a story, but having watched the episode Route 66 I felt my mojo coming back. It would be great to hear what you think, as I am worried I've lost my touch (my writing skills are as rusty as my karate).
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds and never, ever will *cries*