Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding Criminal Minds; I just thought it would be interesting to write a fic set in the future dealing with a tragedy that befalls Jack Hotchner. The spoilers range from season 1 through season 5, because that is the last season I watched extensively.

Warning: While this fiction is not particularly explicit, there is mention of rape. It's a Criminal Minds story, which should explain everything. If at all you are disturbed during the reading of this story, please let me know and I will send apologies. Also, make no mistake: there is character death in this story. You have been warned.

Thanks to all who read, reviewed, and alerted! Happy reading!

5/20/2023

Jack Hotchner stands at a fresh grave without a headstone. Yet. There are provisions in Spencer's will for this. There is also a considerable amount of money to help Jack attend the college of his choice and to help Henry go to CalTech. Why Henry is dead set on that particular college, Jack knows, is because that's the college both his godparents attended.

Jack can't make it in college, at least, not without Spencer to guide him. His father volunteered, but it's just not the same. If he could do it himself, and Spencer would spend hours reassuring him and giving him statistics about it, he'd go to CalTech too.

A wind blows across Jack's face, ruffling the flowers he is holding and his hair. Ever since Spencer finally convinced his dad, Jack has been growing it. He plans to do what most other guys would be embarrassed to do: donate over a foot of hair to Locks of Love. Spencer did it once, too. And he was teased relentlessly by Morgan and Prentiss, but both agreed it was a wonderful gesture on Spencer's part.

Sometimes the BAU members act more like children than the children of the BAU members did. For instance, once, JJ, Henry's mother, threw a fit because her favorite perfume was discontinued. When Henry's favorite TV show was canceled, he took it upon himself to finish out the series with scripts. Ten years old and he submitted his first screenplay to a director.

Another breeze shakes Jack out of his thoughts and he remembers why he has come here. He kneels on the grave, places the bundle of forget-me-nots at the marker.

They seem insignificant compared to the other floral bouquets covering the overturned dirt, but these are Spencer's favorite, none of the others are. Spencer liked the implications of the name. He would always bring Jack one whenever he visited, whispering, "Don't forget," as he tucked the flowers into whatever nook he could find.

The feeling of a hand hovering over his shoulder makes Jack look up. Beside him, looking for all intents and purposes—the mind is a funny thing, Spencer once told him—like he did when he tried to give Jack his mom's locket is Spencer Reid. Jack scrambles to his feet, embraces Spencer in a less than satisfying hug.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to give your eulogy at your funeral." It needed to be said, but Jack wishes he could keep all his words to himself so that he can evaluate them before being judged by people. He feels like he's been judged all day.

"Don't worry about it, you did beautifully." He should have known Spencer wouldn't do that to him. Spencer never does—did that. It makes the necessary question easier to ask.

"Why'd you have to die?"

"The UnSub wanted to show that he was stronger than the FBI."

"No," Jack shakes his head, takes Spencer's hand to make him understand, ignores that he can touch his friend only if he doesn't think about it. "Why did you have to die?"

"It was time," Spencer pulls back, folds his arms over his chest. "You and I both know it was a merciful killing even if it was very violent."

They stand in silence, Jack contemplating the ground and the sky while Spencer watches him carefully. It hasn't rained in nearly two weeks. In fact, the last day it rained was Spencer's funeral. Soon dust will be carried by the wind, like so many discarded thoughts.

"You have to let me go," Spencer says suddenly.

"Why?"

"Because, if you don't, you could end up in a mental hospital." That was Spencer's greatest fear—to be just like his mom.

"What if I don't want to, at least, not right now?" Jack is ten years old again, playing quietly while his father yells at random people. But this time, both are ready for mental breakdowns, instead of just his dad.

"Then I'll leave when you're ready for me to go," Spencer kneels down, wraps his arms around Jack to take him down too. "You are strong. You'll get through this."

"Show me a magic trick."

Spencer touches the flowers Jack left, traces their shape. "You've seen all my tricks. Why don't you show me one?"

And Jack does, making a small forget-me-not appear behind Spencer's ear. "It works better with a coin."

"That's okay, it was performed beautifully." Spencer reaches out, fingers ghosting over the locket Jack never takes off. "Go to CalTech. You'll make it."

~ The End ~