After Haley died, Reid found he did not know what to do. Sure, he had been around victims who had lost people and things precious to them. However, none of those people was Hotch. None of those circumstances was a template for any that came after it, and certainly not for this. Hotch changed in the aftermath of this, but not in the way Reid feared he might. He worked harder. He did everything he could to make the best decision for Jack.
Reid wanted to help, but as with many things, he was unsure of how to go about it without making matters worse. He had not spoken to Hotch since it happened, but didn't want him to feel isolated. At a loss, Reid sought out JJ in her office one evening.
"What should I do about Hotch?" he asked, without preamble. He took a seat across from her and waited.
Slowly, JJ set aside the file she was perusing and studied him. "I don't understand," she said, her voice low and serious. Her eyes shone in the dim light. They were somber and cheerless in the wake of so much grief.
"I don't know how to approach him. How to be there for him. And I don't want to make anything worse. Since you talk to families all the time, I thought…I thought you might know what I could do to…"
"Everyone's different. But just being there helps. Making yourself available. He might not want to talk, so be okay with that. Don't be afraid to mention Haley's name, and follow his lead. If he wants to talk about her, let him. Don't be afraid to ask how he's doing. The answer might seem obvious to you, but it'll mean a lot to him. Especially in the coming months, when the team is moving on to other cases. This is going to hit him eventually. And when it does, he'll need us…to be there…to just listen. There is no handbook for grief. I wish there were. God knows I could have used it…" she mused.
Reid wondered if JJ was aware of the faraway sadness in her own eyes.
"Thanks, JJ…" he said quietly. "If you…" he cleared his throat. "If you ever need to talk…I'm here…"
Surprise overtook her features before the mask of professionalism was replaced again, and she nodded. "Thank you."
Reid worked hard in the weeks and months. Cases came and went. He watched his boss for any opportunity to be there for him. A year later, when everything is changing in the BAU, and JJ had left, Reid spotted an article in the local paper. It advertised a support group for dealing with grief at losing a loved one over the holidays. Carefully, Reid clipped it out and left it on Hotch's desk.
On the anniversary of Haley's death, Reid followed JJ's long ago advice. He scribbled a note and stuck it to Hotch's desk. It read simply, I remember, so as to let Hotch know he was not alone today.
He wasn't in the office in the coming days, as Jack was having a hard time. Reid poured himself into work and tried to deal with his own personal issues in what little time there was leftover. A week went by, then two. Hotch was back but had yet to speak a word about the time of year or its affect on him. Reid was beginning to think Hotch was impervious to grief.
However, late one night after everyone else had gone home, Hotch called Reid into his office.
"I'm nearly done with the Tampa file. I'll have it on your desk momentarily." Reid promised, grateful that the lighting in Hotch's office was dim. The massive headaches he was experiencing were aggravated by too much light.
"Sit down," Hotch urged, not looking up from his own work.
Reid obliged, waiting for whatever Hotch had to say.
"Are you okay?"
"Has anything in my job performance indicated that I wasn't?" Reid snapped, suddenly irritated. All of his efforts to be there for Hotch and Hotch was turning them around, focusing on Reid instead. It was disconcerting.
"You left your vest behind and walked into a crime scene unprotected. Your behavior's changed," Hotch maintained. "Is there anything you think I should know about?"
"I'm dealing with it," Reid insisted succinctly. "If that's all, I'd like to get back to work," he said, rising and turning toward the door.
"Reid?" Hotch called, a little softer, and a little sadder.
"Yes?" Reid asked, looking over his shoulder briefly.
"Thank you…for remembering Haley…" he hedged.
"Of course I remember her. I remember everything," Reid said, not quite understanding.
Hotch smiled a little. "What I meant is… Thank you for letting me know that you're remembering Haley. You were the only one to say anything. It meant a great deal."
"You're welcome," Reid nodded. "I didn't want to say the wrong thing…and make things worse…but I couldn't just say nothing either…"
"I appreciate it," Hotch repeated, and watched as the door closed and Reid descended the stairs.
Hours later, Hotch pulled open his desk drawer to stow the completed paperwork and files. On top of the stack was Reid's note. Hotch reached down, and tucked the piece of paper in his pocket.
Then, he left the office.
