Author's Note: I was inspired by the unsub's speech to his dying son in 7x10 "The Bittersweet Science", so I decided to write this short story. Please keep in mind that I love JJ, Will, and Henry, so this was absolutely heartbreaking to write...I know, I'm a monster. 0_o

And on that note, please read, review, and enjoy! :)


"Letting go doesn't mean that you're a quitter. It doesn't mean that you lost. It just means that you realize, in that moment, that it's time to let go and move on." ~CM


He's been sick for quite a while now...

So yes, I knew this day would come...just not so soon

Not this soon…

He lay there, in that hospital bed, hugging thick covers tight to his small chest.

I reached over with trembling fingers and took his fragile hand in mine.

"Hey, little man."

He opened his tired eyes and forced a small grin.

"Mommy…I missed you."

A single tear fell from my red-rimmed eyes, staining my cheek with fresh wet.

"I—I missed you too, Henry."

"Is Daddy coming?"

"Yes, baby. Daddy's—"

"—here, little man."

Hurrying inside the room, Will sat directly across from me, placing one hand on his son's arm and using the other to brush back thin strands of blonde hair matted with sweat.

"Daddy?"

"I'm right here, Henry. Mommy and I are here with you."

Henry's pale face stretched out in a wide smile as he took in each of our faces.

"Henry?"

"…yes, Daddy..?"

"I know it's hard for you…to keep going on like this. I know it hurts, and I—I want you to know that your mother and I will always love you, no matter what. Do you understand that? We love you, little man. So much. And nothing will ever change how we feel. Okay? So, Henry, when I say this, I need you to know it's not going to make us love you any less. I need you to know that it's okay to let go. It's okay, because you've fought one heck of a fight. And I am so proud of you for that… But now, it's time to stop fighting—if you want. It's okay to let go…"

"Henry?"

Eyes closing too soon, grin fading too fast.

"Mommy…Daddy…I love you, too…"

The tears fell freely now as I leaned down to kiss my boy's sticky-hot forehead.

Will clutched my hand in his own as we held onto our dying son.

*BEEP*

*BEEP*

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—*

No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

Henry's face went slack, his grip on my fingers loosening, the once steady rise-and-fall of his chest ceasing completely.

I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't talk, couldn't hear—anything.


THERE ARE NO WORDS FOR THIS.


I screamed out my grief, sobbing against his still form, calling his name, and beating his dead chest with my fists.

Henry? Baby, please—come back? …Henry!

And I don't remember what happened after that.

All I know is that he's gone.

My little boy is gone…and all I want is to hold him one more time…


"Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go." ~Hermann Hesse