Episode 6x20.

Derek exhaled deeply and leaned back on the couch, draping his arm across the back. "So I'm in here to do what?" He asked gruffly, giving Hotch a long look. "Talk about losing Emily?" He shook his head, "Strauss put you up to this?"

Hotch folded his hands in his lap, "The assessment's routine. I asked her to let me do it, rather than bring in somebody from the outside."

"So let me guess, it's about the five stages of grief. You want to figure out where we all are," Derek concluded.

Hotch watched him patiently, waiting for Morgan to begin.

Derek sighed and leaned forward again, elbows propped against his knees, hand clasped in front of him. "Alright, denial. I'm fine this can't be happening to me; well it didn't happen to me, did it? So that rules that out. What else is there? Bargaining, depression, acceptance. Well obviously I haven't accepted it because I wouldn't be in here. So where does that leave me?"

"Angry," Hotch answered.

"Angry," Derek repeated. "Yeah, yeah sometimes I feel like I want to quit my job and spend my time chasing down the SOB who killed Emily, you're damn right I'm angry. If I'd been there just sixty seconds earlier Emily might still be with us."

Hotch stopped him there, "Derek, you know that you did everything you could."

"Yeah, yeah, I did everything I could, we all did, I know," He snapped sarcastically. "What? Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Derek demanded.

"You protected each other for years; don't expect this to go away anytime soon."

"This what? This guilt?"

Hotch looked down at his shoes, "Just because you were the last one there doesn't mean that you could have affected the outcome," He tried to reassure him. "We all wish we had that kind of control."

"So what do we do, just chalk it up to fate? I can't blame anybody? This is the will of God, no. I do blame someone, I blame Doyle!" Derek studied the carpet for a moment before looking up again. "Hotch, what am I supposed to do? She was my friend. I lost my friend right in front of me, and I'm supposed to go on like nothing happened?"

Hotch looked away, hiding the guilt in his eyes.

"You know, um, we come in here and we talk to you. Where do you go? Where are you in all of this?"

Hotch shook his head, "Same place as you," He answered honestly. "Wishing she was here."

-x-X-x-

Garcia was already teary eyed when she'd entered Hotch's office. She knew exactly why the team was here, she was usually the one who called a grief counselor for other teams. But being part of one of these talks would be a first for her.

"I get it, we're a family and it's important that families talk, and holding it in will just make this sick sad feeling of awfulness more awful. Right?" She said as soon as she sat down, a handkerchief folded into her hand.

Hotch smiled at her and nodded, "Internalizing does make it worse."

"I'll, I'll talk, but I don't want to talk about her being gone. Can I talk about how she made me smile?" Garcia asked.

"Of course," He said quietly.

Garcia smiled back at him, "Ok."

-x-X-x-

Reid was next. He'd walked into the office looking like a deer in headlights. Hotch noticed, as he had been noticing frequently, that Spencer was more pale than usual.

"The last time I was on a couch like this was when my father left," Reid admitted. "They all thought I needed to talk, but developmentally I wasn't guided by conscience, I could only reveal what my mother and teachers told me was acceptable."

"You told them exactly what you thought they wanted to hear," Hotch surmised. "You don't have to do that here."

Spencer sniffed, "It's just not fair that she's gone. It's like if we can't keep each other safe then why are we even doing any of this?" He asked, his voice coming out quiet and broken. "Sometimes I think maybe Gideon was right. Maybe it's just not worth it."

"You and I both have a family to go home to, and sometimes that makes it easier. Have things at home been alright?"

Spencer looked his hands over, "She's trying to be brave, and I try to keep her from seeing how... hard this job really is. She still wants to join the FBI someday, Hotch. What am I supposed to tell her?"

Hotch sighed, "You talk with her, help each other get through this, and see what she wants to do with her life. That's all anyone can do. Then, both of you make a decision about where you want to go from here."

-x-X-x-

The younger of the Reids poked her head into Hotch's office, peering around the door until she saw where Hotch was. "You can come in," Hotch told her.

She smiled, embarrassed, and shut the door behind her. Sara sat down on the sofa next to Hotch's chair and looked at him for a moment. "Derek said that Strauss is usually in charge of these things," She said.

Hotch nodded, "Glad it's me instead?" He asked.

Sara shrugged, "If it was Strauss I wouldn't be in here at all, would I?"

"No, you wouldn't," He admitted, a smile playing at his lips.

She fiddled with her glasses for a moment, her hair falling in front of her face, "I assume Strauss doesn't know I'm here?"

Hotch sighed, "This has nothing to do with Strauss, I want to know how you're doing."

Sara gave him a long, hard look. "Ok… I know you're not supposed to tell me about everyone else because privacy and all, but is Spencer ok? He, um, doesn't really talk about it at home."

"He's coping," Hotch answered. "Grieving is an ongoing process. What about you?"

Sara leaned back on the couch and picked up the small pillow on the end, setting it in her lap and folding her arms around it. "This is like it was after Mom died. They'd try to get me to talk about it all the time. Two counselors," She laughed quietly. "They called two counselors for me; I hated both of them for no reason."

"I know that you don't like talking about loss," Hotch said quietly, encouragingly.

"You remember; it took over a year to tell anyone, to tell you, that Mom killed herself. It's not that I don't like talking about it, but it was just easier to lie."

"I don't want you to lie, ok?"

Sara smiled at him sadly, "I miss her Hotch. I miss her so much it hurts. Emily was… she was like a mother to me. I never really had a good relationship with my mom, so when Emily and I started to get along and do stuff together I thought 'maybe this is my second chance.' But she's gone too. I've lost so many people; I just didn't want to lose anyone else."

She shut her eyes, "I must sound really selfish now."

"One of the first things you asked when you walked in here was if your brother was ok. That doesn't sound selfish to me," Hotch answered plainly.

"You're so good to me, Hotchner," Sara said, smiling at him.

Hotch ducked his head, "How's school going?"

"I'm going back tomorrow. My work is all caught up so that should be fine. I've got about than three months left."

"What about college next year? Do you plan on leaving us?" Hotch asked.

"Like I could ever leave you guys!" Sara exclaimed immediately.

"I'm glad to hear it. What do you plan to major in?" Sara hesitated, and then shrugged. "It's a hard decision I know," Hotch assured her.

The two sat in silence for a moment, Sara studying the numerous pictures around Hotch's desk, Hotch studying her and wondering if he was making the right decision. It only took a moment to decide that it was the right one, and he picked up the manila folder that had been sitting inconspicuously on the corner of the table in front of him. He opened it, took out the small packet inside, and set it in front of her.

"There's an internship for college students looking to join the Bureau. You can enroll in some of those courses and start working here this summer. It would be very time consuming, but it gives you an excellent window into the Bureau, and looks impressive on an application if you choose a different career path," Hotch said, watching Sara carefully.

Sara's eyes widened and she raised her eyebrows at him, looking back and forth between the application and the supervisory special agent. "You're serious about this?"

"You would have my full support," He answered.

She considered this for a moment, and then smiled at him broadly. "Thank you, Hotch, for everything."

"Everything?"

"Just for looking out for me all this time," Sara explained.

Hotch smiled at her, "That's what I' m here for."

-x-X-x-

Hotch and Sara had just finished their chat when Rossi entered the office. He smiled beneath his gray streaked mustache when he spotted the folder in her hand. "Have a good day tomorrow, Princess," He told her as they passed each other at the doorway.

"Thanks, Uncle Dave," She said. "Oh, just an FYI, I spotted a bottle of scotch behind the diploma on the end table."

"Thanks for the tip kiddo, there are benefits to meeting after hours."

With that, the fifteen year old slipped past the older agent and down the stairs to the bull-pen. She handed the packet to her brother, who looked it over, grinned at her, and then pulled her into a hug. Sara snatched the purple scarf off Spencer's neck and draped it around her own. They waved goodbye to the agents in the room, and departed.

Life has many ways of testing a person's will, either by having nothing happen at all or by having everything happen all at once.

So guys, The End! But not really because the first chapter to the sequel will be posted soon!

It's called 'Journal of the FBI Intern.'

I'll just take this opportunity to thank you all again for staying with me through this story. Thank you all for reading and reviewing and your support, it means so much to me. I've really enjoyed writing this story, hopefully you've enjoyed reading it, and will enjoy the continuation as well. Goodbye!