Disclaimer: Nothing of Criminal Minds belongs to me. I'm just borrowing, and I'll put everything back when I'm done. :)

A/N: This was hard to write on a very personal level. I put a lot of me in here, and so I hope that it properly reflects the team.

Title: Honour Thy Father

Prompt: Dear Dad

***

"All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside; it's hard, but it's harder to ignore it..."

-Cat Stevens, Father and Son

***

"Dad?"

His voice was much quieter than it had been the last time he spoke to his father; words in anger that has almost torn them apart. Confusion and fury that his family had lied to him for years had made him bitter and unenthused as the prospect of seeing his father.

He recalled the bitterness and loneliness he had felt; lied to by everyone.

And then he recalled the other memories. The twenty years he hadn't seen his father bit at his conscience, but the earlier moments, the happy times of laughing and love, the romance of a house that had supported and adored a young Spencer Reid- those were the moments he wanted to keep.

"Dad?" he said, softer now and sadder.

His insides squirmed as his father opened his eyes and looked back at him. "Dad, why didn't you tell me?"

"Spencer..."

"You could have told me. I would have been here for you. Now it's too late."

"It's never too late. I love you, you know that- and that's all that matters."

"But Dad..."

"Spencer. Don't beat yourself up over this. It was my choice to say nothing," William Reid said. He spluttered and coughed, the IV in his arm preventing him from moving too far. He was consigned to the hospital bed, destined to be there until he met his maker.

"Dad, I would have been here..."

"I know. But you had people to save; I wasn't one of them. I didn't want to be one of them; there are worthier people, people who don't walk out on their families."

An unbearable pain came to Spencer's heart and his eyes filled with tears. He sat in the chair next to his father's bed and stayed there, waiting for the old man to pass away. If there was one moment he would be there for, this was it. He held his dad's hand and cried to himself for what felt like forever.

"I love you Dad," he said, as William closed his eyes and slowly moved from life to something better.

***

He looked down at his father's grave. The man who had moulded Derek's life was always in the back of his mind. A police officer, gunned down in the line of duty; a hero and a good man- the man that Derek had long wanted to be and still tried to impress.

It was true that he had struggled with his faith. God had taken everything from him; his innocence, his childhood, his father, his family. And then he had talked to the priest.

He never gives us more than we can bear.

In the last year, Morgan had discovered this to be very true. He was at peace before his father's grave, considering that throughout his life, as he lost some things, he gained others. He had not been beaten yet. God had never given him more than he could bear.

Leaning down and resting on his haunches, he looked at the lettering on the grave properly- just like he always did.

"I miss you," he said simply. Then he stood up and walked away, his hand resting on the headstone for as long as he could hold it there.

***

Garcia picked up the photograph. It didn't matter how many home movies you had, or how many years passed; the pain was always there. Scars can form, but you're marked for life once you've lost someone you loved so truly, do deeply, so dearly that to lose it feels like cutting yourself in two.

The pain was blunt now. The brightness she surrounded herself with helped. Her plastic animals and fluffy pens reminded her of the good days, the days of laughing and fun, her dad swinging her on the swing, swimming with her mom.

She rested against the headboard and considered that the insane suffering of that time had led her to a good place; a place where she could help others. Her parents would, she knew, be very proud of her for doing that. They valued human life and cherished its frailty; it needed guarding.

And Penelope Garcia was as strong a Guardian as could be.

She kissed the picture and smiled, wiping the customary tear away. "Love you guys," she whispered to herself, and smiling still, she lay on her pillow and drifted into a warm memory of a summer picnic and a piggy back ride with her dad.

***

Will jumped from the car and took the car seat from JJ, his son safely tucked inside. She smiled at his insistence that she carried nothing; Henry was born now, there was no danger to her - but she allowed him. He doted on his son and JJ wasn't going to stop him. Walking up the steps, she moved ahead of him and rang the bell.

After a few seconds, a tall man answered and looked at her and Will, "Hey kids! Come inside, let me see my grandson again!" he said, taking the seat from a reluctant, but smiling, Will.

JJ loved her father; he was calm and gentle, always welcoming and still treated her mother like a queen. And the best thing was that, for all the mocking they did of Will's accent, they loved him like a son and loved it when he arrived with JJ.

She knew in her heart that these visits weren't common enough or long enough. Her job wasn't traditional and neither was her life; but these were treasured moments and she intended now, more than ever, to cherish them even more.

"Where's Mom?" she said, stepping inside the door. He sighed affectionately and said, "On the phone to Betty next door."

"On the phone? Why doesn't she just go over there?" Will laughed, the New Orleans drawl sounding distinctly.

"Because Will my son, she's too fond of me to leave me behind!" JJ's father laughed and led the way to the sitting room.

JJ followed behind Will, already smiling, thoughts of work and sadness gone from her head as she settled down for a few hours with the people she loved most in the world.

***

"I never thought I would be here," Aaron said, "with you."

"Me neither," Emily said softly.

He was sitting on the couch with his legs extended to fit around hers as she sat in front of him. Her legs touched against his and his shirt, somehow now on her, was half buttoned, revealing some of the pale skin underneath. Her head rested back against his chest and his arms were wrapped around her, one at her stomach and one tracing a pattern on her arm.

"Aaron," she said quietly, "Tell me about your father."

"There's not much to tell," he murmured, and though his actions didn't change, she knew that this was already hard for him.

"I miss my Dad," she said softly. "I never knew him- I never wanted to. My mom threw him out and took me around the world. I never saw him and all I heard about were his bad qualities."

Aaron reached for one of her hands and held it, comforting her as she continued.

"And then one day he wasn't there anymore. He'd died of alcohol poisoning," she half whispered. "He left me a letter."

"I'm sorry," Aaron whispered into her ear.

"It was a beautiful letter. He told me that he loved me, and that he regretted the past that had separated us. I never knew him- and I never forgave my mother for taking him from me. He loved her right until the day he died, and she felt nothing for him. She didn't go to the funeral," she finished sadly, tears welling in her eyes.

"At least you know that he loved you," Aaron said. "It's a small consolation, but he's proud of you now, and he knows that you love him back."

"Mmmm," she said, and in his heart, Aaron knew that that would never be enough. She would never be the daughter she could have been, and it bothered him that she could think that way.

"My father was an alcoholic," he said, half ashamed. She squeezed his hand and held it close to her chest as he continued his story.

"When he wasn't drinking, he was fine, he really was. I adored him, and so did Sean. He treated my mother so well. But when he drank... he got violent. He lashed out and hurt everyone. I tried to take the fall for Sean as often as I could, but it wasn't always possible. He would scream and roar and throw things. We were only kids..." his voice was reduced to a whisper.

"And then things got worse. He beat my mother. And then he beat me. I was older then. I tried to protect her and I kept Sean safe, but it made no difference. It still hurt as much as ever and I still felt awful when they cried," he said, his lower lip trembling. She knew that he would cry before his story was done; she knew that she would comfort him then, but for the moment she merely kissed his hand- he needed to finish telling her. Otherwise he would try again one day, and it was an upset she didn't want him to suffer again.

Tears spilled over and down his cheeks as he explained, "He got cancer. He set his affairs in order, left everything to my mother and died when I was sixteen," he said. "I went to the funeral. Hundreds of people told me what a great man he was. And all I could do was thank them and pretend that we had lived a dream. I hated it. I hated him."

"You still do," Emily said softly and turned to look in his eyes.

"I still do," Aaron confirmed as more tears fell. She kissed his cheek and wiped them away with her thumbs, moving to lie next to him on the couch. He lowered himself to face her properly and pulled her close.

"I love you," he said into her ear, and she felt his tears fall onto her skin.

"I love you too," she said just as quietly and determinedly, stroking his back and calming him into sleep.

***

Reid stood looking into the empty grave which soon would hold his father. There was nothing he could say or do; he was inconsolable. Grief ran through his every nerve and he felt a wave of emotion that he had never felt before. Tears spilled softly over his eyes onto his face and Aaron reached from his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and looking at him. Emily had her body faced toward Aaron and his arm was wrapped around her, taking all the comfort she could give as he tried to remain strong.

On Emily's other side stood Rossi with Morgan, the latter awkward and angered by the funeral of another father. Garcia's arm was wrapped around him; she knew his story only too well and they all knew that she was the one holding him up.

He never gives us more than we can bear.

Next to Reid on the other side were JJ and Will, holding hands and thinking of their own family. It hadn't been ripped apart; it hadn't suffered- the world had so much left for them to see and experience. What would come would come; they would have the team when it did.

***

"So take your time, think a lot, think of everything you've got; for you will still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not."

-Cat Stevens, Father and Son

***