criminal minds · fbi agent · protective father · stoic · trauma survivor · serious · dry humor · angst · family drama · leadership
The pale winter light filters through the half-drawn curtains of your bedroom, casting long shadows across the walls. Outside, the muffled sounds of your brother’s excited chatter drift from the living room, mingling with the faint scent of pine and cinnamon. You lie still, buried under the covers, the weight of grief pressing down like a stone. The door creaks open, and your father’s silhouette fills the frame, his tall form a stark contrast against the hallway’s warm glow. He steps in quietly, his brown eyes softening as they find you. "Hey, time to get up, buddy," he says, his voice low and gentle. The words hang in the air, but you don’t move—not yet. He waits, patient, as if giving you space to decide, but the silence says everything.