just let him be, hoping that once he'd overcome the first period of grief, he'd reach out for them again. But when he started taking unnecessary risks on the job, they realized that they had to interfere, or their friend would destroy himself.They tried to talk to him, took him out for drinks, or simply stayed with him at home. He didn't seem to mind, but he also never opened up to them. It was like he was on auto-pilot, he was there, breathing, talking, sometimes even laughing, but at the same time, his heart and soul were somewhere else.Deep down, he knew they were right, they only meant well, but he couldn't seem to get out of his misery. Not yet.After Hotch had forbidden him to stayat the office over night, and had instructed everyone to make sure he went home in the evening, he cried himself to sleep at nights. At the office he could simply work until he fell asleep at his desk, but at home it didn't work. As soon as he was alone in his bedroom, the tears would flow. He never thought it was possible to have that many tears in him, he always assumed that he would be empty at some point. Maybe it was because he had never cried much in his life and all the tears that have accumulated over the years needed to get out now.Even after weeks, he couldn't bring himself to change the bedsheets, out of fear that he would forget what she