Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Criminal Minds or its characters.
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"Are you sure you want to do this, Reid?" Hotch asked as he turned off the vehicle. "I can go up and do it myself."
"It's fine, Hotch. I can handle it." Reid opened his door without another word. Hotch did the same and went around to help him get out. It would have been easier on his leg to use two crutches, but he could only use one because of his injured shoulder. Reid made his way to the building slowly, but Hotch was patient with him the entire time. He was grateful that Hotch hadn't pushed the issue further. The truth was he wasn't really sure if he could handle it.
He had just been released from the hospital, and they were stopping at his apartment to pick up some things to bring to Hotch's place. He had offered Reid his spare bedroom until he healed better and found a new apartment. Reid knew he would never be able to stay in his apartment anymore. It would remind him too much of what had happened.
When they finally made it to his apartment door, Hotch opened it, and Reid took a deep breath before he ventured inside behind him. The place seemed immensely different to him. It just didn't feel like his home anymore. Reid stopped in his tracks as he saw the blood on his carpet, his blood, and his father's blood as well.
"Do you want any help?"
"No," Reid responded when he realized Hotch was talking to him. Reid forced himself to tear his gaze away from the site and move to his bedroom to gather some clothes, leaving Hotch alone in his living room.
He found many of his things out of place from his father looking through his stuff, but he ignored it, and started grabbing some clothing, not really taking care to fold them nicely, and put them in his bag.
As he was gathering his things, he noticed something that wasn't out of place. He wouldn't have given it a second thought, but it was the one thing he knew should not be in its exact place. Why did he put it back?
He set his crutch to the side and picked up the photo of him and his mother from its spot on the dresser. He sat down on his bed, slowly tracing his fingers along the crack in the glass frame. He noticed a drop of water on the picture and realized it was from his own tears, which were now freely falling down his face.
A sob escaped him as he finally allowed himself to break down, and it wasn't long until he felt a hand on his back, running comfortingly up and down. He soon found himself crying uncontrollably onto Hotch's shoulder.
He didn't know how long they sat there like that, but eventually his tears began to subside. "I'm sorry," he managed to say.
"It's okay, Reid. I'm just surprised it has taken you this long." Hotch reached for the box of tissues and held it out to Reid.
"Hotch?" Reid asked quietly after a moment. "This isn't going to be easy to get over, is it?"
"Not at all," Hotch answered honestly. "It's going to take time, Reid, but before you can, you will need to realize two things. First, absolutely none if this was your fault." That won't be easy.
"What's the second?"
"You don't have to be related to be family." Reid smiled slightly. I think I'm already beginning to realize that one.