I don't own CM. wrote this for the March Madness Challenge and I wrote this while listening to "Too much love will kill you" by Freddy Mercury [in my warped mind in kind of makes sense]
A lone plastic dinosaur bobbed around in a tub full of dirty bath water. It was a perfect fit with the surrounding destruction. It was not a scene that the man was not used to but this was different. Usually he was walking through stranger's homes trying to figure out what happened as an independent investigator. No connection to be the horror that had descended on the home but this was different. This was different because he knew the people that had been visited by this horror. He knew the woman whose blood stained the walls and he could her desperation in every overturned table and chair. A desperation to get away, to get to her child, a desperation to live.
Aaron Hotchner walked through the destroyed home of his colleague like a lost soul. In his mind he was watching the evening unfold as told by the evidence. A small family sitting down to dinner- the woman must have gotten up to get something from the kitchen. He assumed it was probably the napkins that were dropped onto the floor. The baby must have spilled the juice before the tragedy struck. So she must have got up and moved to the kitchen. She must have been surprised there and the first strike happened there. All signs pointed to the kitchen as the starting point. Somehow she had managed to escape and run back to the table where the man and baby were waiting. The next time she was hit when right next to the door. She must have fallen onto the glass table kept in the corner. The rest, as they say, is history.
The rest of the team watched their leader walked through the destroyed home. Each one of them thinking the same thing- what was he thinking? And what will he do? They knew how much he cared for their fallen team mate. They also knew that they were both so dutiful and obedient that they would never have acted on their feeling for each other. Even though they knew that in the case of these 2 agents nobody at the FBI would have batted an eye. In fact Strauss would have been happy to have Hotch's solemn face out of her mind for a while. His emotionless dark eyes were starting to unnerve her.
But all this speculation was all for naught because after tonight there were no more chances. Hotch had lost the second most important woman in his life and just like the first he had been powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream and shout and yell till he had no voice. He wanted to find the person who hurt her and take his life in his bare hands but he knew that he had done that before and it did nothing to alleviate the pain. The pain of having his heart ripped out of his chest still beating.
Suddenly it all became too much for him and his eyes began to blur. He had lost her. Even before he had a chance to tell her how much he cared. He knew that he had no one to blame but himself that she was gone without ever knowing that she was loved. She was loved by someone who would have moved heaven and earth for her. Her smile was his reason for living and that she was the reason why his kitchen window was always open. The woman upstairs had planted lavenders in her flowerbox and the smell wafting in made her a presence in his home. He wished that he had grabbed her the million moments that he had with her and kissed her or just held her the way he desperately wanted to. He cursed his rigid and dutiful nature. And now he was alone- with only the memory of her smile and the smell of lavender to keep him company.
