Disclaimer: I do not own the team. Title and quotes from Tennyson's In Memoriam.
Summary: Mourning is never linear. Gideon's death, viewed through an ongoing series of drabbles.
Note: Hey guys! For whatever reason that last chapter got a bunch of reviews, and it reminded me that I was overdue to give a HUGE THANK YOU to all my r&r'ers. You guys make my day! Especially during these last few weeks of the semester when everything else is super stressful :)
Our Father's Dust
36
"That dies not, but endures with pain,/ And slowly forms the firmer mind,/
Treasuring the look it cannot find,/ The words that are not heard again."
*
"There aren't any pictures of us with Gideon," Prentiss muses. JJ looks up from her coffee.
"We're close, Em, but we don't exactly take Christmas photos."
"I want one of us now," she says plainly. "So I'll have it in forty years when someone dies."
JJ shrugs. Prentiss smirks. "Guys," she calls; Reid, Garcia and Rossi, making their coffee nearby, turn. "Go get Hotch and Morgan. I'm collecting on my belated birthday present."
They humor her, posing around the break room table, waiting for the auto-timer. It's an awful, awkward picture. Reid blinked. Hotch grimaced.
She prints a dozen copies.