In some families, please is described as the magic word. In our house, however, it was sorry. ~Margaret Laurence
Sorry was the word uttered over and over that day. An empty mantra.
We're sorry for your loss.
We're so sorry, Agent Hotchner.
There's nothing we can do, I'm sorry.
Everyone who didn't know him, everyone who's lives he hadn't touched personally, everyone who saw it as a simple formality, all said they were sorry. If he counted it out, he would have heard
There were Six who didn't.
Garcia offered no words of condolence. Only a hug and a small, laughed at Salute, reminding him that although he felt worried, upset, scared undermined by everyone, that there were still people who needed him, who respected him.
JJ was crying, obviously imagining how hard it must be for him. But no words escaped her lips as she embraced him, her fingers gently touching the nape of his neck, a small gesture to let him know she was here.
Emily didn't enjoy showing sadness. She enjoyed being strong, tough, helping others when they fall apart. So she didn't give a hug, only a hard handshake and a stone look, letting him know that no matter what, she wouldn't, couldn't, let him fall apart.
Morgan embraced him tightly, the bond between the two showing through. Morgan clapped him on the back two times before moving away and standing very still for a moment, bowing his head as a sign of respect, before backing away.
Reid hugged him, whispering not words of grief, but a quote. "'Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it.', Helen Keller." Reid took a shaky breath, still holding onto him. "I'm here for you." And he moved away, bowing his head, as Morgan had done, out of Respect and Reverence.
Jack jumped off the table, where he had been sitting with Garcia, and attached himself to Aaron's leg, holding on tightly. "I love you, Dad." He said, his voice muffled. Aaron bent down and scooped up the little blonde boy that looked so much like Haley and held him close.
And finally, with his family around him, supporting him, holding him up, Aaron Hotchner cried. He cried for the man he had once been. He cried for the husband he had forgotten how to be. He cried for the wife he had lost so many times. He cried for the little boy in his arms that would grow up with only a memory of his mother.
He cried for himself, for Haley, for Jack, and for those who were still standing by his side, the family that wasn't go anywhere anytime soon, the only family he had.