Chapter 1

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Guilt: The gift that keeps on giving---Erma Bombeck

They say hindsight is 20/20. And of course, looking back, every flaw, every mistake, even every decision seemed to have a heavier meaning. Of course, it did, one small choice could have changed the outcome of that day forever. But they hadn't known, how could they possibly have known. In life, you generally try to live day to day fully expecting that the next is right around the corner, no unexpected surprises, and no unhappy endings. It may not be realistic, but it does help.

But still, they were the FBI, not just that, but the BAU, the famed profilers. How did they not see this coming? Picking up on expressions was as natural to them as breathing and yet at one of their most crucial points, their familiarity had failed them. It had shaken them to their core, and had taken a long time to stamp down the flames of doubt and uncertainty that the case had left them with. That day had taken something from each of them.

SSA Aaron Hotchner sat in his office reviewing the case file in front of him. He knew the one-year anniversary of that tragic day was quickly arriving. The mood in the BAU had shifted from calm to quiet almost overnight. He ignored the email from Strauss flashing on his monitor. All she wanted was to get his team's psych evaluations in as soon as possible. Hotch sighed. He hated putting his team through mandatory evaluations although he encouraged them to talk to people outside of work.

He stood up and walked to overlook the bullpen. The agents sitting at their respective desks were quiet, reserved. There was no teasing. Although to be fair, there hasn't been a lot of teasing or laughing since.... He walked down to the bullpen and patted Derek Morgan on the shoulder.

Morgan looked up. He offered a brief smile and nodded. "Hey Hotch."

Hotch nodded back. "Morgan, I hate to do this now, but Strauss is breathing down my neck about the evals. Would you mind?"

Morgan's smile slipped off his face and he straightened up, facing his superior. "All due respect to Strauss, but I don't see the point of the evals. What happened...is not effecting anyone's work here."

"Normally I would agree with you Morgan, but the death of team member will affect us more then we realize. Now, please." Hotch gestured towards his office.

Morgan heaved a sigh and followed him. Hotch shut the door and Morgan arranged himself in the chair.

Hotch cleared his throat. "So..."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "So." He returned.

"What happened exactly almost a year ago today?"

Morgan fidgeted in his seat, his eyes moist. "Hotch, this isn't fair." He muttered. "You were there you know what happened."

Hotch looked up from the paper. "All I know is regrettable mistakes were made." He felt his heart break but he had to feign bias for the evals.

Morgan's head shot up. "A 'regrettable mistake'? Hotch, I was supposed to protect those people, and not one of them came back. Not one. And it has haunted me, no its killed me, knowing that its my fault."

Hotch had tears in his eyes as he let Morgan vent.

"And you know what Hotch? We didn't even catch the bastard. All that sacrifice, all this guilt and pain and death, and that bastard gets away scot free. That's what I can't get my head around."

Hotch sighed, "I know" he murmured. "I know."  

They both sat in silence, until Morgan stood up roughly. "Am i done here?" 

Hotch nodded, signing off on Morgan's evaluation. "Yeah, Morgan we're good." He hesitated watching Morgan leave wanting to add a word of comfort but stopped. He didn't know what to say. 

He sighed and called in the next agent.  

That's how his day went, interviewing his colleagues, who very decidedly did not want to be mentally probed.  He ran a finger down the evals. Thank god he had one left. 

Walking out, he scanned the bullpen for Emily Prentiss. There she was staring out of the window, lost in thought. Hotch slowly walked towards her. 

"Prentiss, time for your eval." he sounded so tired.

Prentiss turned and looked at him. God, she looked awful. Her eyes were tinged with red and she smelled like a brewery. "Yeah, of course lets do it." She sounded dead. 

Hotch grimaced. He recognized that everyone had fallen hard but Prentiss really took a hit. 

He started out with the now well-worn question: "What happened a year ago today?"

Prentiss shifted in her seat and looked at him. "We were on a case. It went south."

Hotch looked at her. Internalizing was always a dangerous thing. "Emily..." he prompted. 

Prentiss looked at the desk. "We were on a case, and we profiled the Unsub wrong. Because of that, because we couldn't do our jobs right, we lost a valued team member and other members working the case with us. It wasn't right, Hotch, it wasn't right." 

Hotch lined up the papers on the desk perfectly, searching desperately for the words to alleviate the guilt that everyone felt. But he came up dry and all he could offer was more silence for the two of them to wallow in. 

Prentiss sighed and looked at Hotch, "You know it'll be a year soon right?" Hotch nodded and Prentiss continued. "A whole damn year and I still can't get any of those images out of my head." 

"You know," she continued leaning on his desk. "You know, JJ works the profile from time to time, wondering where we went wrong. And Morgan, i swear to god, doesn't go a day without flipping through that case file. Rossi , well, Rossi hasn't been the same. He comes in, does his work, and leaves. Leaves all relationships at the door. And oh god, Garcia." She stopped closing her eyes, silent tears tracing their way down her cheeks. "Garcia is so strong, she is the glue that holds this team together Hotch, she really is." 

Hotch leaned across and grabbed her hands. "Emily, listen to me. We are going to get through this, together, but we have to be here for each other for that to happen." 

Prentiss smiled at him, then stood up and walked out, leaving Hotch behind to reflect on his own words that to him sounded like a joke. 

There was no way in hell they could survive, it would have to take a miracle.

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