In The Light

Bloom and Grow Part 1: Bloom

This is an Alternate Universe story of Tor and Aaron's relationship during and after the events of "Shadows and Light."

The grief therapist had told him not to obsess over what would happen to his flowers. "Everyone is different," she had explained in that kind, patient tone every therapist seemed to have. "For some people, the death of a loved one does not stop the flowers from growing. Others have noticed that their flowers appear to have been dried. Sometimes, they stay the same."

She paused, and he could practically see her internal debate over whether to say the fourth option. After several painfully awkward seconds, she finally added, "Some people even grow a different kind of flower. They don't diminish the beauty of the ones you already have. They compliment them."

Another pause. Another sad smile as she watched Aaron adjust the collar of his shirt. "There's nothing wrong with having more than one kind."

Aaron knew there was nothing morally wrong about loving more than one person. Just like there was nothing wrong with having more than one kind of flower. It was a natural chemical reaction that could happen as often as a person could bear to fall in love.

Some people looked down on those with more than one kind of flower, but Aaron knew better than that. After all, David had four kinds of flowers. One for each of his wives and one for the woman he wished he'd married. Aaron had only caught glimpses of them on the rare occasion when the two men had to share a room in the field. He couldn't tell what kind they were, but he could tell David wore them with private pride. He had never been ashamed of loving more than one person, and you could see it in how his flowers looked. They appeared to have been pressed between the pages of his best-selling novel, carefully preserved and contained to where they had originally bloomed from, leaving plenty of space for new ones to grow.

Aaron did not have space over his heart for more flowers. The peace lilies had been spreading across his chest and shoulders ever since he was seventeen. He had been terrified when he saw that first bud in his bedroom mirror. Aaron Hotchner was not supposed to be capable of love. Certainly not for a girl as sweet and soft as Haley Brooks. His heart was barren earth, and nothing good could come from it. But then, during the final dress rehearsal for the Pirates of Penzance, he had seen the white petal stretched across her collarbone. That night, Aaron had let himself hope that maybe- just maybe, he could be loved. Surely even a heart as hard as his could hold a little love.

He could hold love, but he could not keep it.

The lilies did not dry, even after Haley divorced him. He still loved her, and he knew by the high-necked blouses she wore that she still loved him too. But love was not enough to make a garden grow. It was not enough to keep her safe from the monster that reaped her with a blood-splattered smile. It was not enough to allow Jack to grow up with a mother. Aaron's love was weak. Yet his flowers never died.

His scars hid most of them. His clothing hid the rest. It was better this way. He wasn't supposed to love. He'd been blessed to have any flowers bloom, and that blessing had come at the cost of his wife's life and his son's joy.

Aaron was many things, but a fool was not one of them. He would never love again. Not when it meant he'd be left with more flowers that did not have a match.

~

Tor had known from a young age that she would never see a bloom. Flowers required more than a rush of oxytocin and a fleeting sense of safety. Flowers could only grow where there was love. True, precious love. And if Tor Beauregard knew anything about herself, it was that love had been ruined for her long ago. After all, her father said he loved her, and the only thing that bloomed across her skin after he spoke those wretched words were bruises.