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SSA Aaron Hotchner had seen a lot of death. He'd seen unsubs commit suicide by cop, and he'd held children in his arms as they took their final breaths. He'd watched helplessly as innocent bystanders were killed in vicious attacks and even heard his wife's murder through the phone.
None of these deaths, though, horrific though they all were, had affected him in quite the way this one was.
Hayley's death, of course, had been heart-shattering. The woman he loved and the mother of his child had been brutally murdered, and there was nothing he could do about it. This situation, though, was different altogether.
When Hayley died, he knew what to do. He knew the right words to say to Jack; he'd repeated them to other victims' children a hundred times. It had been impossibly hard, of course, maintaining his composure as best he could for the sake of his child, but at least he'd known what to do, and he'd had his team to lean on for support.
Right now, though, as he stood by her Garcia's smooth white casket and looked out at the faces of his teammates - mourning, stunned, broken - he had no idea how to proceed. After glancing over to make sure Jack was still sitting quietly with Henry on a small sofa across the room, Aaron turned back to face the woman he still couldn't quite believe was gone.
He smoothed down his time - a purple one with stripes she'd once given him for his birthday - and his lips curled into the tiniest of melancholy smiles as he remembered snippets of all the things she'd said to him over the years. Penelope Garcia was a pretty remarkable woman, he knew: always encouraging, remarkably witty, and openly flirtatious in a not-quite-appropriate way that had a way of making him smile in spite of himself, even now.
She'd been so sure of herself, he recalled, even from the first time they met. When he arrested her in California, she'd been an illegal hacker who was convinced that she was acting for the greater good, unashamed of the fact that she carried pink scented stationery in her purse, and not the least bit shy about taking a sexy jab at the FBI agent who unlocked her handcuffs. Hotch's shoulders shook with a bittersweet cry and he wiped a few tears from his face.
As he continued to reminisce about Garcia, something came to mind that he remembered her saying a time or two: "Everything happens for a reason." She'd been so certain of that, the way she'd been certain of nearly everything in her life, and he couldn't help but wonder what purpose she'd think this tragedy served. Knowing her, she'd probably have flashed that beautiful smile and said something that made everyone feel a little better about life. She certainly had a way of doing so.
God, he was going to miss her. Not just Penelope as a friend, though he certainly had counted her as such, but on a much larger scale. He was going to miss the way she was always there, always positive, always bringing a little light into the darkness. As the thought struck him, he turned over his shoulder to look at Jack again, growing up so fast and right before his eyes. Life was so beautiful, and Aaron was suddenly aware of his own tendency to get lost in all the pain. As he walked towards his son and once again gave the softest of smiles, he could practically hear Penelope's familiar voice in his head, laughing and saying, "Well, Boss-man, I guess you're gonna need a bulb, 'cause it's time to find your own light."