Sergeant Abigail (Abby) Laurens transfers to the BAU after an operation in Iraq goes horribly wrong and she loses the one man she's ever truly loved. Desperate to escape her guilt she throws herself into her new position but when someone comes back...
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"Like I said, sometimes there are no words. No clever quotes to neatly sum up what happened that day. Sometimes, the day just ends."
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Abigail Laurens took her final breath at two eighteen am. It was quiet. Peaceful. Silent. So painfully unlike her.
The team sat in the waiting room of the hospital; a place they had sat together so many times.
"Agent Hotchner?" A deep, demanding voice shattered the silence in the room. Hotch coughed once, to clear his throat, and strode over to the man dressed in white. The doors closed behind him.
"He called for Hotch." Spencer muttered. The first words he'd spoken since the agents had arrived.
"Kid, that doesn't mean anything-"
"When it was Garcia, and when she was here last time, they called them both by name but now they've only called for Hotch. That means everything, Morgan." Spencer interrupted shortly.
No one else uttered another word. There was nothing that could be said or done.
Hotch walked back into the waiting room. The team took one look at his face and that was all that needed to be said. Like they thought: there was nothing that could be said or done.
"I can't - I-I can't do this again." Spencer whispered. If the room wasn't so silent with the presence of death, no one would have heard him.
He ran towards the double doors, his hands resting across the cold silver slates.
"Reid." Hotch's voice filled the silence.
Spencer stopped dead in his tracks.
He turned around and looked at his boss' face. The eyes that normally were void of emotion were now filled with tears.
"No..." Spencer's own sobs interrupted him. Seeing his boss cry made Spencer realise she was dead. Abigail Laurens was dead.
Hotch ran towards him, catching a falling Spencer in his arms. He pulled him up by pulling him into a hug and holding him tightly; partly for balance but mostly for comfort.
The rest of the BAU could do no more than watch. Garcia cried freely into Morgan's shoulder; he, himself, sat tall, his arms supporting Garcia. Rossi sat silently. He did not show the hurt he was feeling nor the anger that was boiling up. JJ cried silently.
