Zombie Cantos: The Heart of Man
Title: The Heart of Man
Rating: PG
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Zombie Cantos
Characters/Pairing: Emily, Jack - gen
Genre: Horror/Drama
Summary: Dealing with death is never easy.
Author’s note: Obviously mentions the deaths that took place in the previous part. If you’d prefer to remain oblivious, then I suggest skipping this part.
Zombie Cantos: The Heart of Man
* * *
And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
Reluctance - Robert Frost
*
Being prepared for loss is never the same as being ready for it
Randy K. Milholland
* * *
Twenty-Four and a half months since the Zombie Apocalypse.
It’s been two weeks since “that day.” There’s no need for any further clarification, really. They all know what “that day” is - the worst day of their lives. It takes Emily a little while to get used to the fact that Morgan and Hotch aren’t in her life anymore. They’ve been a staple presence for almost ten years ago - a world without them just doesn’t feel right. Some days, she half expects to see Hotch standing at the whiteboard, putting together an attack plan, or waking up and feeling Morgan’s warmth beside her.
All that’s gone, now.
It’s kind of hard to comprehend.
But as hard as it’s hitting her, there’s one person that has it a whole lot worse. Jack’s twelve years old, but he’s stronger than most adults she’s met. He cries silent tears at the memorial service they hold, but he’s a pillar of strength in the darkest moments. She expects nothing less from Aaron Hotchner’s son.
This morning, Jack had knocked on her door, and asked if she wanted to play chess. She wonders briefly why he doesn’t ask Reid, or Kevin, or even Rossi, but she doesn’t turn him down. It’s been a while since she’s last played, but it’s not a game that you ever really forget to play.
She’d been the one Jack had drifted towards in the wake of his father’s death, and it had taken her a few days to figure out that it was because she’d lost someone too. Never mind that she doesn’t really know how to be a proper role-model to a child. They’re big shoes to fill, and her own teenage experiences are really, really not an example Jack should be following, even if some of them are a little impossible in a post-apocalyptic world.
Still. He’s a good kid - a smart kid - and he plays a mean game of chess for a twelve year old. “Almost thirteen,” he reminds her when she says this, and she just smiles. It’s a sad smile, because he’s twelve years old - “almost thirteen” - and he’s lost both his parents, and he didn’t do a single fucking thing to deserve it. None of them had.
It’s all so fucking unfair, and part of her wants to drop everything, a sort of “screw this, I’m done,” to the universe. She doesn’t, though. There’s something in there keeping her going, even if she isn’t quite sure what it is. Maybe it’s the grin on Jack’s face as he checkmates her - admittedly, she’s beaten him a dozen more times than he’s beaten her, because you don’t play chess with Spencer Reid without learning a few things. It still feels good though, because if nothing else, it means that Jack’s not letting go of everything, which somehow feels more important.
I believe the children are our future. It’s not often that she praises the merits of Whitney Houston, but the phrase seems appropriate for the situation. What the future itself will be is another matter altogether. It doesn’t seem right that they’ll grow up into a world like this. The world before hadn’t exactly been perfect, but it had its moments.
If I'm not kicking down doors, I'm smashing down walls. At the end of the day, they both make me feel like I'm changing something... for the better.
Morgan’s words - from so long ago now - ring in her ears, as though they’re some kind of testament to his memory. Keep going. Keep fighting - there’s something worth it. Only part of her thinks that she’s just lost the one thing that had kept her holding on. It’s the reason she finds herself unsure of what answer to give when Jack asks her, ‘Were you and Derek boyfriend and girlfriend?’
Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is only twelve.
‘It’s complicated,’ Emily says finally.
‘Zombie complicated, or adult complicated?’ he counters, and Emily gives a bitter laugh.
‘Both.’
‘“The important thing was to love rather than to be loved,”’ he says, and Emily frowns.
‘Aren’t you a little young to be reading that kind of stuff?’
‘I dunno,’ Jack says. ‘It’s just something Mom used to say. At least, that’s what Dad told me. I don’t really…I don’t really remember that much.’ His voice takes on a sad note, and Emily wants nothing more than to take him into her arms, and to tell him that everything will be okay. Even if it is a lie. ‘I remember the gunshots,’ he says, the words seem almost disconnected.
Emily closes her eyes. She remembers the gunshots too. She remembers the look on Hotch’s face - it’s burnt into her memory, along with so many other horrific things.
‘I didn’t know her very well,’ Emily admits, ‘But she was only ever kind to me.’
She checkmates him this time, and Jack suggests that they find a couple of other people and play Monopoly instead, because it’s the kind of world where you can play Monopoly at 11am on a Monday morning without really feeling too guilty about it.
‘Sure,’ Emily smiles. ‘Why not.’
There’s hope for Jack yet, even if she’s not quite sure about herself.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Zombie Cantos
Characters/Pairing: Emily, Jack - gen
Genre: Horror/Drama
Summary: Dealing with death is never easy.
Author’s note: Obviously mentions the deaths that took place in the previous part. If you’d prefer to remain oblivious, then I suggest skipping this part.
Zombie Cantos: The Heart of Man
* * *
And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
Reluctance - Robert Frost
*
Being prepared for loss is never the same as being ready for it
Randy K. Milholland
* * *
Twenty-Four and a half months since the Zombie Apocalypse.
It’s been two weeks since “that day.” There’s no need for any further clarification, really. They all know what “that day” is - the worst day of their lives. It takes Emily a little while to get used to the fact that Morgan and Hotch aren’t in her life anymore. They’ve been a staple presence for almost ten years ago - a world without them just doesn’t feel right. Some days, she half expects to see Hotch standing at the whiteboard, putting together an attack plan, or waking up and feeling Morgan’s warmth beside her.
All that’s gone, now.
It’s kind of hard to comprehend.
But as hard as it’s hitting her, there’s one person that has it a whole lot worse. Jack’s twelve years old, but he’s stronger than most adults she’s met. He cries silent tears at the memorial service they hold, but he’s a pillar of strength in the darkest moments. She expects nothing less from Aaron Hotchner’s son.
This morning, Jack had knocked on her door, and asked if she wanted to play chess. She wonders briefly why he doesn’t ask Reid, or Kevin, or even Rossi, but she doesn’t turn him down. It’s been a while since she’s last played, but it’s not a game that you ever really forget to play.
She’d been the one Jack had drifted towards in the wake of his father’s death, and it had taken her a few days to figure out that it was because she’d lost someone too. Never mind that she doesn’t really know how to be a proper role-model to a child. They’re big shoes to fill, and her own teenage experiences are really, really not an example Jack should be following, even if some of them are a little impossible in a post-apocalyptic world.
Still. He’s a good kid - a smart kid - and he plays a mean game of chess for a twelve year old. “Almost thirteen,” he reminds her when she says this, and she just smiles. It’s a sad smile, because he’s twelve years old - “almost thirteen” - and he’s lost both his parents, and he didn’t do a single fucking thing to deserve it. None of them had.
It’s all so fucking unfair, and part of her wants to drop everything, a sort of “screw this, I’m done,” to the universe. She doesn’t, though. There’s something in there keeping her going, even if she isn’t quite sure what it is. Maybe it’s the grin on Jack’s face as he checkmates her - admittedly, she’s beaten him a dozen more times than he’s beaten her, because you don’t play chess with Spencer Reid without learning a few things. It still feels good though, because if nothing else, it means that Jack’s not letting go of everything, which somehow feels more important.
I believe the children are our future. It’s not often that she praises the merits of Whitney Houston, but the phrase seems appropriate for the situation. What the future itself will be is another matter altogether. It doesn’t seem right that they’ll grow up into a world like this. The world before hadn’t exactly been perfect, but it had its moments.
If I'm not kicking down doors, I'm smashing down walls. At the end of the day, they both make me feel like I'm changing something... for the better.
Morgan’s words - from so long ago now - ring in her ears, as though they’re some kind of testament to his memory. Keep going. Keep fighting - there’s something worth it. Only part of her thinks that she’s just lost the one thing that had kept her holding on. It’s the reason she finds herself unsure of what answer to give when Jack asks her, ‘Were you and Derek boyfriend and girlfriend?’
Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is only twelve.
‘It’s complicated,’ Emily says finally.
‘Zombie complicated, or adult complicated?’ he counters, and Emily gives a bitter laugh.
‘Both.’
‘“The important thing was to love rather than to be loved,”’ he says, and Emily frowns.
‘Aren’t you a little young to be reading that kind of stuff?’
‘I dunno,’ Jack says. ‘It’s just something Mom used to say. At least, that’s what Dad told me. I don’t really…I don’t really remember that much.’ His voice takes on a sad note, and Emily wants nothing more than to take him into her arms, and to tell him that everything will be okay. Even if it is a lie. ‘I remember the gunshots,’ he says, the words seem almost disconnected.
Emily closes her eyes. She remembers the gunshots too. She remembers the look on Hotch’s face - it’s burnt into her memory, along with so many other horrific things.
‘I didn’t know her very well,’ Emily admits, ‘But she was only ever kind to me.’
She checkmates him this time, and Jack suggests that they find a couple of other people and play Monopoly instead, because it’s the kind of world where you can play Monopoly at 11am on a Monday morning without really feeling too guilty about it.
‘Sure,’ Emily smiles. ‘Why not.’
There’s hope for Jack yet, even if she’s not quite sure about herself.