#helltechnicality

"Sorry- sorry- did she just pass through you?" He had to clarify. It's one thing, having a really dodgy alien lady run away from him like she's Margaret Blaine, but it's a totally different thing to see her go straight through someone in the process. Had he ever seen anything like it before? Maybe. But this guy did not seem phased about it in the slightest. "Like- you do know that she just - vwoop'd through you? Did you not feel that? Are you okay?"

A long glare before pointing toward exit. " Get out. "

"Kid! Hey, kid. Look at me. My name's John, can you tell me what's going on here?" Hell was vast and different and this is his first time outside of Alastair's section of it. All he can pick up from this part is - dolls? And Edwin hiding in a corner. Damn, this kid couldn't be older than a teenager. How did he get down here?

THERE IS A FATHERLY LOOK OF CONCERN in Hotch's dark eyes as he looks upon the ghost boy and listens to him speak. "The past has a way of haunting us all," he muses, pausing for a second to remind himself that Edwin doesn't need a profiler right now, he needs that kind of advice that only a father knows how to give. "There is nothing that says you aren't allowed to grieve for the injustices you've faced both in life and afterlife. I think you know as well as I do that you're allowed to be angry or sad if you need to be. No one will blame you if you need time to rest, to figure out how you feel and to let yourself feel it. You're still only human."

"We're already ghosts, no need to be worrying about more deadlines, yeah?" Charles quipped, his tone playful; there was little chance the bad pun would strike Edwin as funny in his current state, but it did elicit an irritated glance. Charles seized the opportunity, swiftly snatching the book out from under Edwin's hands and dancing back on his feet before Edwin could reach him. "Ooh, there he is!"

NO, KID, THIS AIN'T ON YOU," answers Derek close to immediately. "You don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and you definitely don't need to shoulder yourself with unnecessary guilt or blame. We're going to help you find Charles, I promise, but right now blaming yourself when you couldn't have done anything, doesn't help him. Penelope is already tracking Esther and Spencer is reading everything you've got on witches. Hang in there, okay?"

BLOOD POOLS ON THE FLOOR BENEATH HIM. The stab wounds that Foyet had covered his torso with are deep and they burn and Aaron Hotchner refused to give The Reaper the satisfaction of showing how badly it hurt. And now here was Edwin - home suddenly to bear witness to the aftermath of Foyet's brutal business. "It's okay," says Hotch through clenched teeth, ever the parent soothing a frightened child, even when he's staring his own possible death in the eyes. The tips of his fingers are numb and cold and Hotch is fighting to keep his eyes open. "Go get the BAU. It will be okay." And Foyet, who waits, in hiding, outside for this unexpected, ghostly intruder to leave, still has plans yet for Aaron Hotchner - the agent who is currently fighting to stay alert if nothing else than to spare Edwin more horror.