My second Criminal Minds fic, and it's a lot different from the last one. I have to admit its kind of dark and depressing but I think it turned out pretty well.
Same author's notes as my last one: I don't watch Criminal Minds as much as most of you probably do so it's quite possible the characters will be out of character. Also, English isn't my mother tongue so I'm sorry if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes.
Also, for now it's just a one-shot but I'm thinking about writing more chapters for this one.

Enjoy!

''The most important thing in life is your family. There are days you love them, and others you don't. But, in the end, they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes it's the family you're born into and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself.'' Sex And The City quote

My trembling hand flew to my mouth, the left one clenching into a fist. I can hear the phone hit the floor. Tears are burning behind my eyes - I'm not even sure I should stop them from falling.

I can feel a burning ache go through my body. I want to scream but aside from a high shriek, nothing comes out. The words are echoing through my head, over and over and over. The words are louder than any other thought. The words are taking over my mind, they silence my thoughts... they made my heart stop as soon as I first heard them. They are taking over my life - and ruining my life in the process, it at least feels that way.

I try to take a deep breath to calm myself down but I can't breathe, I can't even move. All I can do is stand there, completely still.

I want to break down, but I can't even do that... I can't do anything, not without them right next to me.

''I can't... I can't...'' I don't know what to say - not that it matters; there's nobody here to listen. 'I have to,' I scratch my head and can feel my fingers ticking against the side of my head. I can't feel my legs, like I'm floating - but not in a good way.

I slowly kneel down, putting my hands down on the floor with hesitation. I let myself drop down, laying there: not being able to think, breathe properly, say anything... My head is resting on the floor with the phone next to it. ''Ma'am, I'm so sorry for you. Are you still there?'' I can hear the panicked voice on the other line, wondering why I'm not responding.

I kind of want to calm down, tell them I'm okay; that everything is fine and that I'll move on. That's also what I want to tell myself.

I want to tell, no; convince, myself that I'm okay, that I'll be fine and that I'll move on. Tell myself that they weren't my family. Tell myself that I did not just loose the six most important people in my life.

But I can't tell myself that, first of all because except from my quiet sobs I can't make a sound. Second of all, because it's not true.

I shake my head; bury my head in the deep-pile carpet. I feel like I'm going to be sick. I told them to keep themselves safe, they promised me they would. They said they would be careful, made a vow that they wouldn't let themselves get hurt.

And they kept a part of that promise: none of them got shot, not a single bomb went off and nobody got stabbed. The unsub got arrested, locked behind bars. They thought they were safe, nobody had any worries about the plane ride home.

I can only guess how scared they must've been when they heard that one of the engines had broken. How scared they must've been when the plane went down in flames. After that they couldn't be scared anymore... they were all dead as soon as the plane hit the ground.

Inside I'm screaming. I was just shutting down my computers when I got the phone call. Never in a million years could I've seen this coming.

I want to be mad at them, blame them. They should've checked the plane. They should've... they could have...

I am unable to even finish my thoughts. I am on the floor of my little office unable to move, unable to get up. I hear somebody knock on my door. ''Garcia? Are you in there?'' I can hear Kevin ask - and I thought things couldn't get worse. Ever since we broke up we've been kind of hostile towards each other. Why does he have to stop by now?

''Look, I know you don't want to talk to me. I know you probably hate me but we have to work together anyway. Just open the door,'' I hear him say, he sounds frustrated. ''Look, if you are...'' he says as he opens the door and walks in. As soon as he sees me lie on the floor, curled up in fetal position, his voice fades away.

I vaguely notice him rushing towards me; I guess a small part of him still cares. ''Penny, what's wrong?'' I hear him ask, but I don't answer. I don't want to answer him, talk to him - even if I did, I can't.

''Somebody come help me!'' I hear him yell to nobody in particular. It's the last thing I hear before everything fades away.

I wake up with a startle, a tight grip on the pillow next to me. The curtains are closed but I can see light pouring in anyway. I groan and bury my face in the pillow. The same dream again - though maybe 'dream' isn't the right word, nightmare sounds about right though.

The most painful moment of my, so far, 36 year long live, and I have to relive it every night. Every single night for the past 6 months and I'm sick of it.

I sit up a little bit, looking around the messy room that I haven't cleaned properly in six months. That one phone call... technically I didn't die, but it sure felt like it.

Too much sadness, that was what it was. Not to be misunderstood; I'm still grateful for everything I do have. Or, grateful... perhaps also not the best word. People tell me to look on the bright side, look at the things I still have, not the things I have lost.

I still have my brothers, four brothers and I never talk to any of them because we don't get along.
I still have my job, I should be happy about that. That was what people told me, until I got too depressed to actually go to work and I got fired.
I still have a nice apartment - that means that it was a nice apartment, now it's a pigsty where the curtains are always closed.

All the happiness I have known in my life, it's all disappeared one way or another. I could get over every loss, as long as I had them. Now the biggest loss of all had taken place and I can't get over it. Everybody I needed to deal with whatever crap life throws at me and move on, they're the ones who are gone now.

Sure, I had felt pain before. Pain that would make me feel like I was going to die. Certain moments when I felt like if that one thing happened it would be the end of my life.

But this moment; part of me felt like I was going to die. Another part felt like it had gotten ripped to pieces, thrown on the floor, stomped on, set on fire. It made me feel like I was losing control over her life. I wasn't going to die; I was going to be all alone left to deal with the pain. Being left alone to fix everything - to find a way to 'just deal with it'.

That was what he had told me to do after the plane crash. That was what Kevin had said to me: ''Just deal with it, you'll be fine,'' he had said.

It had taken three security guards to keep me from attacking him. It had enraged me so much that all I could think about was breaking every single bone in his body, setting him on fire. Leaving him completely hopeless and broken on the floor and then telling him to 'just deal with it'. And then perhaps laugh in his face.

Those words, 'just deal with it', it haunts me every single time I see him. Who the hell did he think he was? He had always been kind of strange, maybe a little quirky - but those words... was he insane? Out of his freaking mind?

Just thinking about those words now I want to rip the pillow to shreds. Pretending that it was his body, pretending it was all the pain inside of me that was being ripped to shreds.

I take a deep, shaky breath. Trying to calm myself down but failing. I start crying with the realization that it hurts so bad that I want to take it out on somebody else. 'Maybe this is how serial killers feel before they kill their first victim. Maybe they have a lot of pain inside them too and they want to kill somebody just to get some relief. Just so they can think about something else other than the burning pain inside,' I think.

My eyes are watery and I don't bother to stop the tears from falling. I bury my face in my hands. I have to get rid of the pain somehow. Killing Kevin isn't going to help, it won't be enough. I need them back.

Without really thinking about it I get up out of bed and walk out into the kitchen. I walk over to the fridge and look at all the things pinned up there under the magnets. Photos of the people I love, the people who loved me. I softly stroke all their faces. I look at one of the photos taken just a week before they all died:

Reid standing there with a grin on his face, a little shy. Hands in his pocket, not really sure what kind of pose to take for the photo.
Rossi was leaning against one of the tables, relaxed as ever. A small smile on his face, trying not to burst out in laughter over the way JJ was trying to get them to smile for the photo.
Hotch with his oh so serious face, dark eyebrows making him look even more serious. He just wanted to go home to see Jack that night.
JJ, telling everybody to smile; always the cheerleader. A big smile on her face and one of her hands on her baby bump. Pregnant with a little girl that would never be born.
Derek. Sweet Derek, I sigh when I think about him. The day before the crash he had, over the phone, let it slip that from the first time we met he had been convinced we were going to get married someday. He had said that he was officially going to propose to me as soon as they got back.
And last, but definitely not least, Prentiss. We had lost her before... I had to lose her twice. You'd think it would make it easier, but it wasn't.

I wipe a few tears away, trying to ignore one of the other things hanging there. A letter from the airline company with an apology in it. Like that would make things okay.

There had been a lawsuit; they'd had to pay every member's next of kin some kind of compensation. My psychologist had asked me if I could ever forgive the airline company.

I had said yes, not because I'm not mad for letting this happen. Not because I'm okay with the fact that they are so careless that people had to die before they made changes in the routine checkup of the planes.
I forgave them so I could move on, so I could be happy. I forgave them so I wouldn't allow them to let their stupid mistakes control my life.
Forgiving them hadn't helped though...

I shake my head; I'm too pissed off right now to really think straight. I open the deepfreeze door and grab a pint of ice cream. When I close the door my glance lands on a picture of JJ with Henry.

Sweet Henry, my little godson who now has to grow up without his mother. I haven't seen him in months, unable to leave my apartment. I have my groceries delivered to me, and if I need anything else I have people I can call.

I grab a spoon of the counter, not caring if it's clean or dirty. Probably the latter. I don't even think when I grab the steak knife from the counter as well, keeping a tight grip on it.

I sink down on the floor, leaning against a cupboard. I put the ice-cream down, the spoon lying on top of it. I look at the knife for a second, watching it glisten in the weak light, ignoring the dried up blood on it.

I lay it down next to me, grab the ice-cream and spoon and eat a bit - looking at the knife the entire time. I scratch my arm, making all the cuts there bleed in the process but not caring.

I put the ice-cream down again and grab the knife. 'It has been enough', I think. 'I'm sick of it. Today it's all going to end.'

''I thought of you with love today, but that is nothing new.
I thought about you yesterday and the day before that too.
I think of you in silence. I often say your names.
But all I have are memories and your picture in a frame.

Your memory is my keepsake, with which I'll never part.
God has you in His keeping. I have you in my heart.
I shed tears for what might have been. A million times I've cried.
If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.

In life I loved you dearly. In death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place no one can ever fill.
It broke my heart to lose you but you didn't go alone
for part of me went with you, the day God took you home.''

I know it seems pretty bad right now but I promise it will get better! And please review, it keeps me motivated constructive criticism helps me become a better writer.