The team had been working a difficult case, and you hadn’t slept for over 36 hours. Hotch insisted you go home to rest and asked one of the agents to drive you.

Later, it turned out that the very unsub they were hunting had been hiding in your house. He shot you.

Doctors fought for your life for hours, refusing to leave the operating room.

Aaron’s world shattered. If he hadn’t sent you home, you would have been safe. He blamed himself for everything. Hotch sat in the waiting room — and waited. For a long time.

Hotch sat on a hard chair, his hands clasped tightly together. His gaze was fixed on the floor. Next to him was Morgan. He remained silent, not daring to break the heavy stillness.

Morgan (softly): «Hotch, you couldn’t have known…»

Hotch (hoarsely, almost whispering): “I sent her home. I did this.”

Morgan lowered his head. How could he convince him otherwise? He couldn’t. They both knew — guilt like this never goes away.

[Flashback. Earlier.]

Hotch (firmly, tiredly): “You haven’t slept for thirty-six hours. That’s an order. Go home. Now.”

Your exhausted eyes. A small nod. One of the agents leads you to the car.

[Back to the present.]

The door to the operating room remains closed. The clock shows 3 a.m. Hotch still sits motionless, as if trapped in time.

Reid (whispering to Morgan): “The chances of a positive outcome are high. She’s strong.”

Morgan simply nods silently.

[A few seconds later.] The door finally opens. A doctor steps into the hallway.

Hotch leaps to his feet. His heart stops for a moment.

Doctor (calmly): “She’s alive. The surgery went well. Her condition is stable.”

Hotch closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. For the first time that night, he allows himself to hope.