Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Obviously.

Author's Note: Okay, so this story is nothing at all like the first CM story I published, because that was all light and fluffy and this seems to have gone to the complete other end of the spectrum. You can thank my muse for that. Of course, the fact that I've been able to write two stories inside a month for the first time in over four years means I won't be complaining. Obviously lots of angst here, which was actually difficult for me to write when I was putting this together. Rather inspired by the TV Prompt Challenge "The Rise and Fall of Paul the Wall" from challenge set #8. Thank you as always to Sue C for the beta, and to sarramaks for the discussions which inspired the second part of this chapter.

Don't pass me by, don't make me cry, don't make me blue,

'Cause you know darling, I love only you.

You'll never know it hurt me so,

I hate to see you go.

Don't pass me by, don't make me cry.

- Ringo Starr

I hate to see you go

The light coming through the windows of the office had slowly faded without him really noticing, deepening the shadows in the room until the only light source was the lamp above his desk. It wasn't that late, sunset coming before five now that daylight savings time had finally ended, but the gloom which now pervaded his physical environment seemed to have a correlation with the gloom which filled his soul. He looked at his watch, knowing that she'd be stopping by his office soon to say good night. It was something she'd always done, for every member of the team, whenever they hadn't been on a case. While he'd never asked, he'd always assumed that it was a way of bringing a small amount of normalcy to the horror which they dealt with on a daily basis, the same way that they all liked to laugh and joke whenever the opportunity arose – everyone except him anyway. There had been a time when he'd started to open up a little, trying to push back the stoicism which was his typical mask, but that had changed after what happened with Foyet, and after what had happened with her. Now there never seemed to be a reason to smile, just an emptiness which was only filled with cases under review, and thoughts of Foyet.

The knock came unexpectedly, interrupting his thoughts, making him realise that he'd been staring at whatever was on his desk for a long time. Despite the fact that he'd lost track of what it was he'd been doing, he answered without looking up. He knew who it was at the door anyway.

"Come."

The door opened just enough for her to push her head in. It was what she did, something he'd always considered uniquely her. Dave always walked into the room fully, but she just popped her head inside the door, hanging around the frame. She didn't always smile, sometimes it was impossible to smile given what they dealt with, but that had changed of late. Now there was nearly always a smile on her face when she poked her head around the door, and that was probably what hurt the most. Not the smile itself, because he'd always enjoyed seeing her happy, but the reason for it. The same reason that she was leaving earlier these days. The reason she concentrated more on getting her work done than tormenting Morgan, or discussing Reid's current subject of interest. The reason he no longer had any reason to smile himself.

"'Night, Hotch!"

There was a vibrancy to her voice that he'd first started to notice a few months ago. At the time he'd thought nothing of it, but as the weeks had passed he'd realised that there was a very good reason for her excitement at leaving the office – she had somewhere to go, or more specifically someone to be with. He'd heard the conversations between JJ and Garcia, though he'd tried not to listen once he'd discovered what they'd been talking about, mostly because each time the topic had come up, they'd been more excited for her – and he'd died just a little more inside.

He didn't think that anyone had noticed how much her increasing joy in life had been reflected by an increasing withdrawal on his part – or at least that the two had been connected. He knew that some of them had definitely noted that the glimmers of emotion and relationship he'd begun to show had faded into a permanent stoic mask, and he hoped that they put it down to what had happened with the attack and his family. He suspected that Dave had connected the dots, but if so he hadn't said anything, even after that day last week when she'd come into the office wearing a ring on her left hand and grinning like she'd never stop. Fortunately he'd been previously scheduled for a custodial interview that morning, so he'd taken the one team member who would be least likely to confront him on anything, and the least likely to talk about her so long as he could provide a conversation starter. In the end, Reid had talked the whole way there and back, giving him the perfect excuse for not talking. He'd even been able to drag out the interview so that they didn't get back until late in the evening, which meant he hadn't had to see her again that day - though he hadn't avoided seeing Strauss.

It hadn't surprised him at all that she'd finally found the political support to force him out of his position. Ever since he'd been suspended two years previously, he knew that she'd been looking for the opportunity to move on him, and she'd have been a fool to let this one go. What she hadn't expected was his acquiescence to her demands. Yes, he'd fought her at first, though that was more out of the principle of doing so than anything else, but in the end he'd actually got what he wanted – a transfer to a different state. He'd known for a while that they'd been looking for a candidate to head the San Antonio Field Office, so when she'd come looking for him to step down, he'd been able to bargain for the San Antonio position. While it would have been nicer to go to New York or Connecticut, because it would have meant being closer to Sean, he knew that those locations were more likely to be visited by the team. In all the years he'd worked in the BAU, there had only ever been one case in the San Antonio area. It also brought him closer to home. There were as many bad memories there as good, but any place he didn't have to see her every day was a day in which he thought just maybe he'd be able to cope.

He'd had a much more difficult time convincing Morgan of the need for change. At first he'd wanted to fight Strauss tooth and nail, anything to back up his friend and his boss. But when Morgan had realised that not only would he be stepping down but would also be leaving the unit, the fight had got even tougher. He'd finally convinced Morgan of his need to leave. If he hadn't stepped down voluntarily, Strauss would have simply transferred him out and then broken up the team. By promoting Morgan, the team would remain largely intact – though he himself would be leaving. And that was a necessity in order to give Morgan the latitude he needed to make the job his own. Morgan couldn't always be looking over his shoulder wondering whether he was making the right decision, and there certainly could be no confusion in the chain of command. It was for the best. Morgan had wanted to make this temporary, just until Foyet had been caught, but he'd convinced him in the end that it was better he leave entirely. Try and make a new life away from the place where so many bad things had happened in his life.

So tonight would be his last night with the unit. He'd take a few of his personal things with him today, but the remainder could be boxed up and shipped when the opportunity arose. He knew that Dave would see to that. And he'd say goodbye to them all after she left. It was going to be difficult enough without having to deal with her reaction. He knew that made him a coward, but he didn't think he could face the questions he knew she would ask. She'd always been the one to ask the direct question, to cut through the BS and get to the bottom of an issue. And even though she was in love with another man, he wasn't sure that he'd be able to lie to her about the real reasons for his leaving if she asked the right questions. And the last thing she needed was him raining on her parade, just when she seemed to have finally found what she'd always wanted.

He looked up from the blur of papers on his desk, and saw the dark hair framing her face, her left hand holding the door frame. He tried hard not to notice the glimmer of light reflecting off the finger of her hand, and focused instead on her face, taking one last look because he knew he would very likely never see her again. She was happy, a smile on her face and a shining light in her eyes that he knew she hadn't had until recently. It made her look alive, but left a profoundly bittersweet feeling when he saw it, because it was something that tore him apart inside.

"Goodbye, Emily."

He tried to make it sound light, as though he was saying good night just like every other time she'd stopped by his office on the way out the door, but he knew that this really was a goodbye – it's just that she didn't know it. Of course, being the outstanding profiler that she was, she immediately recognised that there was something different in his voice, and her smile faded slightly.

"Hotch? Everything okay?"

He cursed mentally. Somehow he had to get past this conversation so he could speak to the rest of the team before they left.

"I'm fine. Just tired."

It was true enough. He hadn't slept well in weeks, particularly the last two nights as he'd readied everything for Morgan taking over. He knew he had dark rings under his eyes, more than he'd had in years. But that was from the dreams, or perhaps they should be called nightmares, he had about her, not sorting and labelling files.

"You sure?"

He clamped down on his feelings, and made sure his mask was in place.

"I'm fine. Goodnight."

It was a dismissal, and even though he could see in her eyes that she would have liked to pursue the issue, she took it as such. He looked down at the papers on his desk again before she could read any of the feelings he knew had to be showing in his eyes.

"Okay. See you tomorrow then."

He half grunted in response, not trusting himself to verbalise an answer, and sighed in relief when he heard her close the door. He felt a tear running down his cheek, and saw it land on the file in front of him. He mentally wished her all the best. All life's happiness. He watched as another tear landed beside the first. A life without him.

The individual conversations with the team had gone largely as he'd expected – though there had been exceptions. JJ had been in tears, and had actually hugged him, surprising him with the depth of her reaction. They'd had a connection ever since he'd brought her into the BAU, a relationship that was somewhere between brother/sister and father/daughter. Her relationship with Will hadn't changed that – she'd always cared for him, and he'd always tried to be there for her, despite his seeming inability to express emotion since Haley had left. Garcia had been in tears as well, promising she'd keep in touch, keep track of what he was doing. He knew she meant it. Reid had been surprised, but had said that he'd almost expected something since Foyet's attack. Dave had just looked at him, looked into him in the way that only a friend could, and had nodded, then said that he'd take care of Emily. He knew Dave had seen the relief in his eyes when he'd said that, understood the real reason for his leaving Quantico.

He hadn't spoken with anyone outside the immediate team, needing a quiet exit. He just wanted to slip away, move onto the next thing before he ended up hunched in a chair, sobbing. That would come later, he knew, probably once he got back to the bleakness of his rented apartment. The tears on his desk were evidence that the pain was breaking through the wall he'd so carefully constructed, bringing it crashing down. He had to get out before that happened.

So he was surprised when he heard a knock at his door a couple of hours later. He'd been in the process of packing up the mementos around his office - photos of Jack, and some of the awards from the shelf behind his desk. He'd thought that everyone had left, which would have allowed him to slip away into the darkness. Instead he saw Morgan standing there, arms folded across his chest. He kept putting things in the box, taking his time, not knowing why the other man was there, and allowing him to take the first step in the conversation. Silence reigned for several minutes, as he finally finished what he was doing, and raised his head to look towards the door. Morgan hadn't moved, but his gaze narrowed slightly as they made eye contact. Time passed, and they both just stood there, looking at each other, not wanting to be the one who shattered the silence, and brought reality to their situation. So he spent the time reinforcing his walls, desperately trying to ensure that he could keep them up until he was safely away from this place which held so many memories.

"You're not going to speak to Emily?"

It was the question Dave hadn't had to ask, had known the answer to without asking. And now he had to answer it.

"I said goodbye to her before she left."

It wasn't a lie, because he had said goodbye, though it had been without context. She had no idea of the reality of the situation, and would be forced to deal with it in the morning when she arrived and found his office empty. Hopefully Dave would be in early enough to look after her as he'd promised.

He saw Morgan raise an eyebrow, obviously not believing the statement. He wouldn't have either, had their roles been reversed.

"You told her you were leaving?"

He sighed, not wanting to have to go through this, but not able to answer the question either.

"Not … exactly."

He looked down at his desk, unable to meet Morgan's penetrating gaze.

"So what did you say … exactly?"

"I said goodbye."

It came out as little more than a mumble, but he knew that it carried across the silence of the room.

"Is she going to be surprised when she arrives tomorrow?"

And the questions only got harder, though at least he could answer this one.

"Dave will take care of it."

It was the answer that wasn't answer, but he just couldn't give anything more, or the wall would fall there and then. And that couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it. He brutally shoved everything into the recesses of his mind, his face tightening as he did so. It was a tell, if Morgan was looking for one.

"I have a team to run here, Hotch. We'll have a new case in the morning. Will my team be able to function?"

Anger blazed inside him at that question. If Morgan doubted the team before he even started, how could he ever truly lead them? He snapped his head up, and glared across the room.

"Of course they will! How can you doubt them, any of them, after so long?"

At least Morgan had the grace to look slightly guilty.

"I know, man, but I care about them. They're my friends. I don't have the separation you have."

And there was the root cause of all his problems. After Haley had left, he'd moved himself away from them all as he'd struggled to deal with the changes, and he'd ended up building a wall that hadn't existed before. But he'd found that it was a wall which had worked both ways – he'd been just as unable to reach out to them, as they'd been to reach out to him. Every effort from either side had run up against solid concrete. He actually thought it was why she'd found her way to where she was now.

He sighed. "Don't build a wall, Derek. Don't make the mistakes I did. You need to lead the team, but you need to be there with them, for them. You have to keep yourself open, or you'll end up where I am now."

Bitter. Broken. Rejected. He was all those things and more, a man carrying so much because he'd never opened up to any of the requests to share his burden. He'd always dealt with things his way, and it had cost him his marriage, his son, the job he had lived for, the woman he could not even admit to himself that he loved.

"They'll be fine, Derek. They're a good team - the best. And you're a natural leader. You'll excel, and they'll excel with you. But it's time for me to move on, before Strauss acts to change things on her own terms and destroys the team."

Before it became obvious that her relationship was slowly killing him. Before he said something which had the potential to hurt that relationship.

"You are the team, Hotch."

He shook his head slowly. "I was the team, Derek. You're the team now."

The box seemed light as he picked it up off the desk. Ten years with the BAU and everything that mattered to him fit in one medium sized box. Had it been worth it? The incredible toll on his life? Yes, he knew intellectually he'd made a difference, but somehow that didn't reach the part of him that needed consoling. Would he do the same thing again, given the chance? No, definitely not. He'd have reached out to her, let her in past the barriers, accepted the offers of friendship she'd offered. It might not have made a difference in the end result, but it would at least have given him a chance.

"Goodbye, Derek."

He tucked the box under one arm, and reached out his other hand. Morgan looked down, but instead of reaching out his own hand in return, the other man stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug.

"We'll miss you, man."

"I'll miss you all as well. More than I can say."

And before he cried again, he walked out the door, across the room, and out the glass doors of the unit. He didn't look back, because he wasn't sure that he'd have been able to go on if he did. So he just kept walking out into the night.

The wall fell when he reached home. Broken forever. Just like him.