Here it is. The end. It's a bittersweet moment. Thanks again to everyone who has read and reviewed.

HOTCH

Colonel Heffield met them at the small airfield where they would begin their journey home. He gave Hotch a grateful smile as they shook hands.

"I can't thank you enough, Hotch. I heard from the sheriff this morning; Chicago PD picked up Rosenbath's employer. He admitted to everything." Heffield rocked back onto his heels in a display of disbelief. "I've worked my share of crash sites, but this is a first for me."

"The intentional crashing or the fact that nine people walked away from it?" Hotch asked.

"Both," Heffield chuckled. "Honestly, most crashes are minor and hardly anyone actually dies. But ones like this...they're rare. And I thank God for that."

"Thank you for your help on this," Hotch glanced over his shoulder where the rest of his team was gathering their things. Mrs. Morgan was among them, fussing over hers son's shoulder sling and making sure he wasn't lifting anyone's bags.

"I'm glad your man is okay," Heffield said after a moment.

"So am I," Hotch replied quietly. Turning back to the Colonel, he extended his hand again. "If you're ever in DC, give me a call."

"Don't take offense, Hotch, but I hope to God I never have to see you again in the course of my duties. I think our professional lives crossing twice is plenty." He shook Hotch's hand firmly before slipping his sunglasses back on.

"I agree," Hotch laughed. "Take care, Colonel." Hotch left the man standing by his standard issue black sedan and made his way over to where Garcia was handing Morgan's bag off to Rossi before grabbing the injured man's arm and helping him up the small staircase.

"Baby girl, I can manage a few steps by myself," he groused, but there was no real fire behind it. Fran was close behind with her own suitcase firmly in hand.

"Don't fuss, Derek," she warned. "Let her help."

"Yes ma'am," Derek sighed, earning a laugh from the four agents at the base of the stairs.

"Can we keep her around for a while?" Rossi turned to look at Hotch with a grin. Prentiss stifled her own smile when Derek turned to glare at them, but one quick shooing motion from Fran had him turned back around and into the plane as they all burst into laughter.

"Let's go home," Hotch let his team precede him up the stairs, and he waved once more to Colonel Heffield standing off to the side of the tarmac before ducking his head and entering the small jet.

Morgan had been laid out on the couch in the back, complete with a collection of pillows and blankets that could only have been the work of his mother. Garcia was setting up in the chair across from him while the rest of the team spread out to find places to sleep. As Hotch moved toward an open seat next to Rossi, Fran emerged from the bathroom and strode toward him with purpose.

"I just wanted to thank you," she said quietly, glancing back to make sure her son was occupied by Garcia's persistent TLC. "For letting me fly back with you, I mean. I know it's not standard procedure."

"It's no trouble," Hotch returned her grateful smile with a reassuring one of his own. "I've already cleared it with Chief Strauss. She understands the unique circumstances." He lifted his chin to look over her shoulder, laughing at Morgan's put-upon expression as Garcia asked again if he was comfortable. "Your son means a great deal to us. We're all glad he's okay."

Fran nodded in response, sniffing as tears welled in her eyes. "He loves all of you," she said. "I'm always hearing about your adventures."

"Well, I hope he leaves out some of the more gory details," Hotch chuckled. "We'll be taking off in a moment," he added, gesturing to the empty seat beside Garcia. "You should try to get some rest. I know you probably didn't sleep well these past several days."

"Hardly at all, actually," she agreed. "Penelope took me back to the hotel last night, but I was still too wound up to really rest. I think it's all finally catching up with me."

"Let me know if you need anything," he excused himself and sat down just as the engines began to hum. Fran hurried to her chair and buckled in, casting a loving look down at her son.

"Are you alright?" Hotch heard her ask quietly. "Are you experiencing any sort of anxiety?"

"Anxiety?" Morgan shook his head. "No Ma, I'm fine." Hotch knew they had all wondered what his reaction would be to flying so soon after the crash, but he appeared to be handling any residual unease well.

"Actually," Reid interjected lightly, "this is probably the safest flight in the world right now. The odds of one person being in more than one airplane crash in their lifetime are astronomical."

"Thanks kid," Morgan laughed at his mother's expression briefly before reaching across the aisle for her hand. Hotch looked away then, not wanting to intrude on a private moment.

"This was a good day," Rossi told him as their plane lifted off the ground.

"Yeah," Hotch glanced back and nodded in agreement. "It was."

"You know, I'm not sure even the government has paperwork on bringing someone back from the dead," Rossi laughed. "This is going to be an HR nightmare."

Hotch laughed softly, his eyes growing heavy as the pressure of their ascent weighed on him. He leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, secure in the knowledge that his team was once again whole. Anything else could wait until tomorrow.