You left them behind a long, long time ago. But now and then, more often than you would like to think about, they are in your thoughts. They are a chorus of familiar voices inside your head every single day. They praise you, they scold you, they give you the mental kick up the ass you need sometimes.
You wonder if maybe that makes you crazy.
To still value the opinions of people who are no longer a part of your life, and who haven't been for years, has to be just a little crazy on some level.
You cannot help yourself. You cannot help but wonder. It has always been a part of your ingrained, unavoidable personality to be curious, to wonder, to want to know things, if not everything.
You know that you are not the only member to leave. Just because you did leave doesn't mean you stopped keeping tabs on them. That's another thing to add to your 'maybe I'm crazy' list, because normal people don't casually all but stalk their former colleagues.
Then again, the experiences you shared with those colleagues were hardly normal. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
You know that he left. The mentor, the most experienced and knowledgeable member of the team left without even a goodbye. You know this, you understand this and you wish him well on his search for solace. You do not necessarily believe he will find peace, but you will his journey to prove worthwhile. Hell, you wish a little of that for yourself too.
You wonder about her. You know she has integrated into the team's internal framework with far greater success than you ever managed. You know she is a better woman than you. You know she is brave, and strong, and self reliant. You see little flashes of yourself inside her. But you wish...
No, fuck that, you pray to god or anyone who might be listening out there that she doesn't end up like you.
Because, truth be told, you wouldn't wish that on anyone. Least of all the woman who replaced you.
You think about the leader. Sometimes, you find yourself unconsciously fingering the scar that bastard left imprinted on your skin forever, and simultaneously, you think of the things you said;
'Last time you sent me home Hotch you got me shot.'
You remember the hate in your voice. The betrayal. The hurt in his normally unfeeling dark eyes. You were the cause of that. You and only you. Oh, of course you are aware of the fact he has many more things to worry about now. You know he has a thousand things hurting him at once, but you do wonder... You wonder if maybe, just for a fleeting second, he remembers you. And he hurts again.
She was always kind to you. Even when it was obvious you were breaking apart from the inside out and punishing them, laying blame on blameless shoulders, she was kind. You know she hides the pain well. She tucks it all neatly away inside a little box in her mind and leaves it there. You know this. You did it too. But she is so much stronger than you ever were.
She can handle it. She stood tall where you fell down. You admire her for that. You admire her for many things, but mostly that strength.
There are times when you think maybe he will never change. But then you remember that this job changes everyone eventually.
Look what it did to you.
But, perhaps more than anything else, you hope he still smiles. When that man smiles the world pauses and remembers that it's beautiful for just a moment. He throws his head back when he laughs, and you hope he continues to do that. You hope he will never forget he was stronger than the man who abused him. You hope he knows that he is pure, that he shines. You wish you had told him what a nice smile he had way back when. You wish you could have seen it shine just one more time.
Both of you were very different, and you often didn't quite see things the same way. But sometimes, her smile was the one thing to pull you through the day. Sometimes, you would leave your coffee cup on her notes on purpose, just to watch her grow irritated. It amused you. She grew wise to your ploy after a while, and played along anyway, tossing the empty cup at your head now and again. You don't know why, but you appreciate the fact she did. You miss her silly nicknames that used to make you embarrassed. What you wouldn't give to hear yours one more time.
Your thoughts drift to the kid too often. Well, he is not much of a kid anymore. Perhaps he never was. But he always seemed so much younger than you, far less experienced. And less jaded for it. You pushed him away. He offered you kindness and you turned away. He offered you guidance, a willing ear to listen to anything you might need to say, but you weren't ready. You remember his earnest, concerned expression the night he found you drinking alone in your motel room.
You remember telling him things you swore never to repeat outside the confines of your own mind.
He is a gifted man, in many ways. He managed to believe in you, which counts for something. You teased him mercilessly. More often than not you didn't understand even half the things coming out of his mouth in an endless fountain of information. But you loved listening to him. You loved watching his eyes light up at the simplest things; a new novel, a birthday cake, the offer of a game of chess. You loved his ability to keep the monsters at bay.
You still love him for that.
You still love them all. Regardless of their faults, of which there are many, for they are only human.
And you will never forget them. You will never allow their voices to fade away, like you did.
A/N: Just in case, this was from Agent Elle Greenaway's point of view. These won't really have an order or a time frame, hope you liked it.