AN/AHA! Admit it, most of you thought that this story would never be updated again, right? Well you were WRONG! But, I am simultaneously writing the next chapter, so I sincerely hope you will never ever have to go so long without finding the rest. And, just remember the KDZL committment--I will never leave a story unfinished. Unfortunately, I may get bored (which is why I'm not necessarily a fan of all of the endings to every story) but I will always resolve it. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

A tentative knock startled me from the files I was studying. Looking up, I smiled at the profiler that stood in my doorway.

"Just thought I'd stop by to say 'Welcome Back'." David Rossi smiled kindly. "You moved into your new place?"

I smiled at the thought of the small condo that now housed all of my and Henry's belongings. "Yeah, Hotch said you helped move my old stuff from--" I trailed off, for some reason still slightly unable to make the connection between the reason for our move

Rossi waved a hand as though to dismiss my gratitude. "It was no big deal."

"Yeah." I was able to choke down the lump in my throat.

"I just wanted to say we missed you." He said casually. I was surprised to detect the caring tone in his voice. Many young agents were still in fear of David Rossi because of his sharp edgeds and constant gruff attitude. But he was just a giant softie at heart.

"I missed this place too." I admitted sincerely, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by making the conversation too personal.

Rossi just quirked an eyebrow questioningly and I couldn't help the light chuckle that bubbled from my throat. My eyes followed his gaze, sweeping the mountains of files that had piled up in my absence.

"Alright," I amended, "I missed aspects of it."

He nodded in understanding and I was suddenly struck by the realization that David Rossi understood better than anyone what it felt like to leave the job and come back. This job--our job--it was like a calling. Something in your blood that no matter how long you stayed away, it would eat at you until the very moment that you stepped through the elevator doors.

"If you need anything, you'll let me know, right?" He questioned seriously.

"Of course." I smiled, though having no intention of doing so. I could handle it, and anything I couldn't handle, I would just have to figure out a way to make it work.

Apparently, David Rossi is a better profiler than I gave him credit for, because with one look I knew he hadn't bought my quick agreement. Wordlessly, he moved from the doorway to the chair on the other side of the desk and waited patiently.

"Rossi, I don't--"

"I know what you're going through." He said quietly, the pain in his eyes shocking me to silence.

"Dave, I--"

"I didn't say anything earlier--Hell, I didn't stop by earlier--because it was just too hard." He cut me off before I had room to question him further. "It never gets easier."

And suddenly, I understood. I had only ever heard about two of David Rossi's horrible ex-wives. But it was common knowledge he had been married three times. My heart sunk for him, but I could feel the odd bond of kinship forging with each detail of his admission.

"Your wife?" I asked, prodding him since it seemed that he had fallen into a thoughtful trance.

He smiled softly and nodded, as though he were impressed with my deduction. "Wife number two. Anna." Her name rolled off his tongue reverantly. "I never thought I would be able to move on."

"How did you?" I asked. Gone were the nights when I sobbed uncontrollably. Gone were the days when I longed for Will to walk back through the door. But that didn't mean that I still didn't wake up and wish he were there to hold me.

"I don't think I ever did." He admitted honestly.

Stunned, I didn't know what to say. For the past few months, I had been told that the pain would lessen with time. But sitting across from Dave, I could see the pain in his eyes. I wondered how I had missed that before, how I had dismissed the cold look in his eyes for detachment. "Oh." I said lamely.

Dave chuckled inspite of himself. "I tried to throw myself into work. That didn't work. I threw myself at women, and that helped" He winked and despite the gravity of the topic, I giggled, "But not even that could make it better."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked him genuinely.

"Go on." I looked at him in surprise and he chuckled good naturedly, "I said I never moved on. I tried." He admitted. "Probably not hard enough. But in the end, no matter what I do, Anna's death--and her life--still influence my decisions."

"But it doesn't get easier?" I asked, disappointed at the thought that this pain would be my constant companion for the rest of my life. Yet, at the same time, I felt an odd wave of gratitude that through bearing that pain, I would be able to offer some sort of pennance.

"Yes and no." Rossi sighed as he leaned back in the chair. "Remembering will always be hard. But it doesn't hurt so bad. Sometimes, something will happen and you'll feel a little pang, but it's not the mind numbing grief that I'm sure you've experienced."

I nodded silently.

"Just remember kiddo, I'm always here if you need to talk." He was gone almost as quickly as he came, and I felt a surge of gratitude for the wonderful people I had the opportunity to work with. And for the first time I thought that maybe this would all be okay.

It was nearly three hours later when another knock startled me from my second mound of paperwork. "I figured you'd forgotten about lunch." Hotch smirked as I looked at him sheepishly.

"Your food is always welcome here." I admitted, gesturing for him to sit across from me. He passed me a take-out bag and sat down, eyeing me closely.

"How's the first day back?" He asked, I could feel him scrutinizing my appearance to detect any hints of exhaustion.

"You know, you're not responsible for me anymore." I teased, cursing inwardly as I blushed lightly under his gaze. "I'm a big girl, I even have my own apartment now."

Hotch smiled softly. "I know that, I just don't want you to overdo it. You mean a lot to this unit." He said, and surprised me by his next admission. "You mean a lot to me."

I could feel my cheeks flushing further, and I had to force myself to meet his gaze. There was no awkwardness, no feeling of obligation to reciprocate his declaration. Touched, I smiled in appreciation before I had to avert my eyes. Trying to find something to keep my attention despite the fact I could feel his lingering gaze still upon me, I looked down at the lunch he had brought.

"Cheeseburger, no onions?" I smiled happily.

"And no pickles." He added, smiling smugly as I nodded in appreciation. Say what you would about Aaron Hotchner, but he knew my condiment preference.

And that said a lot.

Emily watched from her car as I stepped cautiously through the thick snow towards the reason for this exodus. I had insisted that I needed to come here, and Emily had offered (more like demanded) that she drive me.

I smiled as my fingers gingerly traced the words etched into the headstone. William LaMontagne, Jr. The crisp snow crunched at my feet, but I was determined. Despite the biting cold, this was something I had to do.

"I know, it's been a while." I smiled as I envisioned Will's warm smile at my long overdue visit. "It's been what--three weeks?" I know how this must look--me standing alone in the middle of a cemetary talking to myself. For once this winter, I'm oddly grateful for the mounds of snow and the cold weather that keep the other possible mourners away. In this moment, the cemetary felt private--intimate--and it gives me time that I can talk to the man I loved.

"Three weeks too long if you ask me, Cher." I could feel his voice beside me, his presence so real I could almost taste it.

"Henry's getting big." I blurted out, grinning widly as the picture of my little boy came to mind.

I could picture Will huffing out his chest proudly, "He's a LaMontagne. 'Course he's getting big."

"He misses you though."

I had been so caught up in my own grief, that I had missed how my son's behavior had changed since his father's death. He may have only been two years old, but he knew that his daddy was gone.

I could picture Will's Adam's Apple bobbing as he struggled to overcome his emotions. Will and Henry had been the best of friends. I remembered one night walking up to our bedroom at eleven o'clock at night to find father and son giggling as they lay on the master bed. Sending each to their respective corners, it had taken me almost an hour to get Henry to sleep. Will had been wired for the rest of the night.

"I miss you." I admitted, fighting an odd conflict between the stoic controlled mask I want to wear, and expressing the longing I'm desperate to feel.

"I've been right here Jayje." I rolled my eyes, chuckling at how even in the way I picture him, he still hasn't changed. I'm oddly comforted by that--knowing that although it seems like its been forever since he was taken from my life, that I know I still remember him the way he was--not some glorified fantasy boyfriend. I had the real thing, a true soul mate who loved me and adored his son. Will wasn't perfect, but he was mine.

And now he was gone.

The harshness of reality cut into me, more biting than the frigid air.

"Why'd you have to go?" I sigh with frustration. I was met with silence. I knew I would be. As much as I could picture Will's loving smile or the twinkle in his eye as he stole the last piece of bacon, there was always that question where the answer eluded me.

Minutes must have passed, because I suddenly became aware of how much colder I felt. Pulling off a glove, I gingerly wiped away the cold tears. He wasn't coming back.

"I love you." I kissed my hand and placed it to the stone once more, trying to send my love into the cold ground with my touch. Wherever Will was, I just hope he knew how much I loved him.

Reluctantly, I offered one last glance to the resting spot of the man that had been my future before turning back the way I had come.