Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding Criminal Minds; I just thought it would be interesting to write a fic set in the future dealing with a tragedy that befalls Jack Hotchner. The spoilers range from season 1 through season 5, because that is the last season I watched extensively.
Warning: While this fiction is not particularly explicit, there is mention of rape. It's a Criminal Minds story, which should explain everything. If at all you are disturbed during the reading of this story, please let me know and I will send apologies. Also, make no mistake: there is character death in this story. You have been warned.
Happy reading!
5/19/2023
Jack Hotchner waits patiently for his name to be called, but time seems to stand still while his anxiety grows.
There are several chairs lined up in neat rows. People fill these chairs, some in white or black robes and others in nice clothes. This is a happy ceremony and yet Jack can't feel happy. Something deep and fundamental is missing. His best friend isn't here.
Many of his classmates have already climbed the stairs and crossed the stage. Many remain, lined up neatly like they'd been instructed the day they'd been let out. Jack's turn is nearing. And still he feels an eerie emptiness at his accomplishment.
White columns have been set up so that the small courtyard is surrounded. It is supposed to be charming and beautiful, but it invokes a feeling of previously unknown claustrophobia in Jack's chest.
Deep breaths.
He glances around quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person who used to say those words to him during his panic attacks. A sudden burst of applause breaks his concentration and he focuses instead on the proud family members waiting for the students to march across the stage.
His own father and the remaining members of the BAU, retired and current, are watching him. Unit Chief Derek Morgan is recording the graduation for Jack's father, to be catalogued with the home movies of his mom.
Thoughts of his mother always lead back to the way things were instead of how they are now. It hurts. It hurts really bad. His mom died protecting him. His dad killed to protect him. And yet, he was not protected. Not until he helped him.
Something twists in Jack's chest. A return of the claustrophobia, perhaps? No, something that feels more like how he used to feel when his dad told him to grow up when he misbehaved.
In a strange sense, Jack finally feels grown up now, standing in the semi-open stands outside under the blue sky in his black gown with his cap, tassel on the left, and the gold braid of honor hanging off his shoulders. In his pocket his speech weighs heavy, as does the series of photographs in an envelope with the speech.
As it comes closer to his time, Jack feels terror overwhelm him. He's never done anything like this before. He should have practiced more. He glances around panicked, catching his father's eye, but not the eye of the most important person to him.
It's okay, it'll be all right.
"Jack Hotchner." There is no more time. Taking a deep breath, Jack marches across the stage, head held like his dad taught him. He reaches out, right hand to shake the principal's, left to accept the black book containing a piece of paper.
He smiles brightly when the cameras flash, smiles too tightly. His face will surely break if he has to keep smiling. He would be proud.
He returns to his seat, remains standing while the rest of his class graduates. Time flies by now that he has finished with the first leg of this tortuous journey.
He barely notices Morgan waving the camera at him or his father applauding silently, both waiting for what must come soon. The panic returns suddenly.
Deep breaths.
And then his name is called again. His heart stutters, but he imagines that someone pats him reassuringly on the back. Has he finally arrived?
"And now a few words from your valedictorian, Jack Hotchner."
Applause. Fear. His stomach twists.
It's okay, it'll be all right.
The climb is harder the second time, and Jack picks each step carefully. He cannot fail now, not with the support of an imagined touch.
He stands in front of the podium, spreads out the pictures and the pages of his speech. He briefly touches the locket around his throat, looks out into the crowd and finally finds him.
"This speech is dedicated to…"