Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.
Wait
"Well-timed silence hath more eloquence than speech."
- Martin Fraquhar Tupper-
David doesn't say anything when Aaron opens the door, just nods a greeting. Aaron nods back and steps aside, allowing him to enter, and he slips past, heading for the couch, as usual.
Except he doesn't sit down, he doesn't make himself comfortable, he whirls around as soon as he's inside and faces Aaron again, waiting for the door to latch and for the other man to face him. But when the familiar click reaches his ear, Aaron stays still, leaning his head against the wall.
David wants to say something, wants to tell Aaron it'll be all right, but there's nothing he can say that isn't an empty reassurance, so he stays quiet, waiting.
Then: "I owe her an apology, David," Aaron says, whispers, still not moving. David takes a step forward, reaching out, but his fingers barely even brush the loose folds of Aaron's shirt before he slips his hand back into his pocket and clears his throat.
"It wasn't your fault," he says. "There was nothing-" But he stops 'cause Aaron's shaking his head and there's something David's missed…so he waits again, because he knows this will take time, and he has to be patient or Aaron'll close up and they'll never get anywhere.
"I…she…I miss Haley," Aaron says, his voice choked. David nods, even though Aaron can't see him, because he understands. He knows exactly what's being said, but he also knows it isn't time to speak again. Just more time to wait.
"They're so much alike," Aaron finally continues. "Not just in looks but…sometimes, I…," he trails off and turns around; his face is dry though his voice was choked as though with tears. David reaches out and Aaron takes the final step that closes the distance between them.
David wraps his arms around Aaron, holding the other man close, tight, and Aaron returns the embrace, though looser.
Aaron isn't going to cry, David knows that; he's known Aaron too long to even consider it as an option, but there's still something left to do…to say. The silence stretches on as David waits, and it's a few minutes before he realizes that it's time for him to speak.
"It's all right," is all he says, whispering it into Aaron's ear. The other man pulls back a little, glancing at David's face, his eyes dark, and he slowly shakes his head. But David halts the motion with a hand on Aaron's chin and looks hard into the other man's eyes. "It's all right," he repeats, hugging Aaron closer, mindful of the cuts and bruises hidden by the other man's clothes.
And they stand in silence, in comfort. And David knows the waiting is over.