Disclaimer: Criminal minds and all of its respective copyrights don't belong to me.
Chapter 1
There is one inescapable reality in life. Death. It touches us all eventually, and it has no regard for age, race, gender, or disposition. You see, fate has already paved a path for us. What we'll do in life, who we'll love, who we'll be, and how we will die. The time and place has already been determined. From the moment you were born it was set in stone; the second you took your first breath, the time at which you'd take your last had already been decided by fate... Some deaths are worse than others - they can be dragged out for days, months, even years. And then sometimes, sometimes it'll just happen in the blink of an eye. One moment you can be laughing, joking, and then the next, your body is a lifeless, empty shell.
Some people get a taste of death. I know that sounds strange, but think about it. There are always people who have been clinically dead, showing no signs of life, that is, until somebody was able to bring them back. Each person who has experienced this phenomenon will give a different account of what happened, some say they saw overwhelmingly bright light, others claim that they saw nothing, few will remember being swallowed by darkness, and many claim that they didn't even know they had died. So truthfully, nobody really knows what it's like to die. Who's to say death is this or death is that? Nobody, because every death is different.
When it comes to death, there is one thing that is universally recognised as being the truth. And that is certain grief. The grief of the people that were left behind. Nobody can plan for death, there's never enough time to say goodbye, things will always be left unsaid. The people left behind can only pick up the pieces, and try to put them back together. Putting the pieces back together takes time, and each person recovers at a different rate. It's not like a broken bone where you can immobilise it and you'll know it'll be better in 6 weeks. With grief, you have to keep going, no matter how much it hurts, and you don't know when it'll get better, if it'll get better, you just have to hope that it does and soon.
Death and birth are the only things that animals and humans alike have in common. Though most humans will never see death coming. The sick and the elderly often say they're too tired to fight anymore, and I believe that they're probably the only people who may ever feel death calling them. They'll feel it at the moment that they've truly given up. They don't give up because they want to, but because sometimes holding on just hurts too much.
I suppose I should've seen it coming, but in my type of work death had always been a risk that I'd been willing to take. You never know what you might be walking into, you never know which direction the bullet that could kill you will come from, you never know if you're going to succeed or fail. But the same could be said for crossing the road. You never know if someone might knock you down, you never know if you'll trip and fall. You'll never see it coming. It could be anything that sets the wheels of death in motion, but for me, it had all started that fateful day. The moment I awoke, I knew something was different, I knew something was going to change, I could feel it in my bones. But still, I never quite saw it coming.
For some reason, I changed my appearance that day. Maybe my subconscious knew, maybe some part of me deep down knew what was going to happen. But I knew that nobody ever wakes up and knows that they're going to die for sure, and that telling everybody that I thought I was going to die would've sounded crazy. All I truly knew was that I needed to make every little thing matter, it had to matter.
The moment I set my bag down on my desk, I got a sinking feeling. I looked around and I had a strange sense that I would never see the bullpen again, and that it would be the last time I walked through the glass doors that day. But it's never quite that simple, is it?
If only those magic eight balls worked or horoscope's were correct... As I listened to Penelope ramble on about there being big changes around the corner for me, the sinking feeling got heavier. But I still didn't want to admit to myself or them, that sitting around like this, was going to be the last time.
I felt a slender arm wrap around my waist, and I melted into the person behind me. I couldn't help but smile, however it was a sad, gentle smile, not a happy one. I turned my head and kissed her softly on her cheek, allowing my lips to linger near her ear. "I love you." I whispered, as I leant into her further, and I felt her nod. The rest of the team glanced at us somewhat amused.
"They're so cute." Garcia whispered before I saw the flash. Now normally that sort of thing would bother me, but that time I could only chuckle quietly as I shook my head, and then I sighed with a small smile.
"If I find that picture anywhere outside of your phone, I'll haunt you." I joked lightheartedly, but to me it wasn't just a joke, it meant something else, I just didn't know it.
I heard her sigh next to me as she shook her head slightly. "If I find that photograph anywhere," she began in a semi-threatening tone, and I nudged her to be quite, which she was. Sometimes she was a little protective of our personal life, and that was another reason I loved her so much. Our private life was just that; private. Everyone in the BAU knew we were married, but that was besides the point.
The team was family, they still are, and we spend the majority of our lives together at work, in the bar, out shopping and during the holidays. I always thought I was OTT when shopping, but Garcia could out-shop the both of us, granted most of her purchases were for our children, her God-children. She just loved to spoil them both whenever and wherever possible... Although to me, it feels like Henry was just born yesterday, he'll be 12 this year, and our daughter Julie will be turning 10 in a fortnight.
Hotch called for us to meet him in 10 minutes and we laughed as we made our way to the kitchenette, and for the first time in nearly 14 years, I was truly terrified of going into the conference room, I was dreading the case we were going to be handed. As coffee was poured, I refused a cup, and gripped my wife's hand slightly tighter than usual. I was momentarily frozen to the spot, my feet didn't want to move, something in the back of my mind was screaming for me to walk out of the BAU doors and go home, but even that couldn't of protected me from the sense of impending doom on my soul.
As we walked into the conference room, I just knew the case we were assigned would be my last...
