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ray4hotchner · 2 years ago

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Fate's Gentle Nudge

Chapter 4: Tangled Hearts

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❀ 𝕡𝕒��𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: aaron hotchner x reader

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❀ 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Hey my loves enjoy this new chapter. This one is not edited yet so if you find any mistakes let me know! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next part🤍

❀ 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕔: @iyv-ray24

┌─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─┐

On Ao3

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With big steps, Aaron left the school building, his heart pounding in his chest. He was almost running to his car, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Forcefully, he closed the car door and gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He leaned his head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm the storm of desire and frustration that raged within him.

His mind replayed the moment in her classroom, their faces mere millimeters apart, their lips nearly brushing. The intensity of their connection was undeniable, a magnetic pull he couldn't ignore. But he was angry with himself, furious that he had let it go so far. He knew he desperately wanted to kiss her, to feel the softness of her lips against his, to give in to the attraction that had been building between them. What was he thinking, allowing himself to get so close? They had almost crossed a line that could change everything. He needed to be better than this, stronger than his desires. He had Jack to think about, his responsibilities as a father taking precedence over anything else. With a frustrated exhale, he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, determined to put distance between himself and the temptation that Y/N represented.

He took the long road home, the minutes ticking away as he drove, the rhythm of the road helping to soothe his racing thoughts. He needed this time to clear his mind, to distance himself from the near-miss with Y/N that had shaken him to his core. He replayed their close encounter over and over, each time feeling a mixture of longing and frustration.

As he pulled into the driveway, Jess's message about dinner being almost ready pulled him back to reality. Taking a deep breath, he turned off the engine and sat in the car for a moment, collecting himself. He was a father, a role model, and he couldn't let his personal turmoil affect his interactions with Jack or Jess.

With newfound determination, he stepped out of the car and walked into the house. The smell of dinner cooking in the air was comforting, a reminder of the stability he needed to provide for his family. Jack was in the living room, looking much better than the day before but still showing signs of fatigue.

"Hey, buddy," Aaron greeted him, crouching down to his level. "How are you feeling?"

Jack gave a small smile. "Better, Dad. My tummy doesn't hurt as much today."

"That's good to hear," Aaron replied, ruffling his son's hair gently. "You rest up, okay? Dinner will be ready soon.

Aaron stepped into the kitchen, where Jess was setting the table. He quickly washed his hands and went to fetch Jack so they could all sit down to dinner. The weight of the day's events still hung heavily on his mind.

While they were eating, Aaron found it hard to fully focus on the meal. His mind kept drifting back to the close encounter with Y/N, the nearness of her lips to his. He tried to shake off the distracting thoughts, but it wasn't easy.

"Hey, are you listening?" Jessica's voice broke through his reverie.

He blinked, looking up to meet her gaze. "Hmm, sorry, what is it?" he asked, trying to push aside his distraction.

Jessica raised an eyebrow, her concern evident. "You seem distracted. Is everything okay?"

"Just work," he replied with a halfhearted smile, hoping she would buy his explanation.

She nodded understandingly. "I was just asking about the meeting with Jack's teacher. How did it go?"

Aaron took a sip of his water, buying himself a moment to collect his thoughts. "It went well," he answered, his voice a little strained.

Jessica smiled, seemingly satisfied with his response. "That's good to hear. She's a very caring teacher. I met her a couple of times and she seems wonderful. It's important to have teachers who genuinely care about their students."

"Yeah, it is," Aaron agreed, though his gaze momentarily drifted away as he battled the inner turmoil of his conflicting emotions. He then looked back at Jessica. "How was your day?"

She launched into a detailed account of her day, and he listened attentively, grateful for the distraction. As they continued their conversation, Aaron made an effort to engage more fully, pushing aside the thoughts that had been preoccupying him. After all, he was at the dinner table with his family, and that was what truly mattered at that moment.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After Aaron left Y/N's classroom, she was left in a state of emotional disarray. She sat back at her table, arms crossed, and her face buried in the back of her hands. Her feelings were a tumultuous mix of desire, confusion, and a hint of regret. She was dangerously close to tears, her heart heavy with the weight of what had just transpired.

Her mind raced with thoughts that they had crossed a line they shouldn't have, that things had become infinitely more complicated. But as much as she scolded herself for letting it happen, that wasn't the real reason she was on the verge of tears. What she wanted to cry about was the rush of emotions she had experienced when Aaron held her in his arms. The tenderness of his touch on her cheek, the nearness of his body—it had felt like a fleeting taste of something she craved, something she might never have again. She couldn't deny that being that close to him, feeling his warmth, had felt incredible. But the knowledge that it might have been a one-time occurrence weighed heavily on her heart, tearing at her from the inside. Her thoughts and emotions were a jumbled mess, her heart torn between longing and a growing sense of self-disappointment.

And so, as the minutes ticked by, Y/N sat alone in her classroom, wrestling with her emotions and the realization that she had let herself cross a boundary that she might never be able to come back from.

Feeling lost in her thoughts, Y/N hadn't noticed her phone vibrating in her bag, and therefore the calls from Lizzie trying to reach her. Lost in her internal turmoil, she was completely unaware of the world outside her classroom.

Just as Y/N's emotions threatened to overwhelm her, the door to her classroom creaked open. Lizzie's concerned voice filled the air, "Y/N? I've been looking everywhere for you. You promised me a ride did you forget?"

Y/N's head snapped up, her tear-stained face revealing the raw vulnerability she had been trying to hide. She blinked at Lizzie, her vision blurred, but the concern and kindness in her friend's eyes were unmistakable. Before Y/N could respond, Lizzie's eyes fell upon Y/N's tear-streaked face, and without a second thought, Lizzie rushed over to her side. She immediately wrapped her arms around Y/N in a tight and comforting hug, her heart full of concern and care.

"Honey, what happened?" Lizzie's voice was gentle, her words a soothing balm for Y/N's distressed heart.

Y/N sniffled, as she spoke, "I... I don't even know where to begin."

Lizzie's grip on Y/N's shoulder tightened gently. "It's ok, I'm here for you. Whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone." Without a word, Lizzie wrapped her arms around Y/N, offering a comforting embrace. Y/N's shoulders shook as she allowed herself to finally release the emotions she had been holding back. The tears fell freely as she clung to her friend, grateful for the solace and understanding that Lizzie provided.

Lizzie's embrace tightened even more as Y/N opened up about what had been tormenting her. "Hey, hey, it's okay," Lizzie soothed, her voice a gentle reassurance. "Take a deep breath. It's going to be alright."

"We almost kissed, Liz," Y/N said, her voice quivering with a mix of sadness and frustration. "I almost kissed Aaron." Her tears flowed freely, each drop a testament to the weight of her feelings.

Lizzie's hand moved to Y/N's back, rubbing soothing circles as she listened attentively. "Okay, it sounds like there's a lot more to the story. Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Taking a shaky breath, Y/N began recounting the events of that afternoon. The closeness, the shared moment, the overwhelming emotions that had gripped them both. She wiped away the tears that had fallen, her voice trembling as she continued to confide in Liz. "I feel so unprofessional, Liz. I mean, what kind of teacher nearly kisses a student's father? And in school, no less. It's ridiculous, and I should have had more control over myself."

Liz's comforting hand remained on Y/N's shoulder, a silent gesture of support. "Hey, it's okay. These things happen, and feelings can be unpredictable."

"It's not just about the situation. It's about the pull I feel towards him. I've been trying so hard to focus on my job, to build a future for myself, and now all of that is at risk. If I lose this job, it would be devastating. I love my students, I love what I do."

Y/N let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her emotions. "And that's not all. I'm scared, Liz. Scared of how he sees me now, scared that he thinks less of me. I'm scared of losing this job, but I'm also scared of how I'm... how I'm falling for him."

"O sweetie...", Liz gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"He couldn't even face me Liz, he hates me" Y/N's voice wavered, her heartache evident. "I don't blame him. I just... I don't know what I was thinking."

Lizzie's voice was gentle but firm, "Y/N, listen to me. I've known you for a long time, and I know that you're kind, caring, and thoughtful. Whatever happened, I'm sure Aaron doesn't hate you." Y/N let out a sigh, her fingers wiping away another stray tear. "It's just... I've had my share of bad experiences in the past, Liz. You know that. I've been hurt before, and sometimes I feel like those insecurities still hang over me." Liz nodded in understanding, her voice gentle. "I know you've been through a lot, Y/N. But remember, not everyone is the same. Aaron is not your past, and you're not the same person you were back then." Y/N looked down, her hands twisting in her lap as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I just wish I could have controlled my feelings, kept things professional. This job means so much to me, Liz. It's not just about my students, but it's also about proving to myself that I can succeed." Liz's expression softened even more. "Y/N, you are succeeding. You're a wonderful teacher, and one moment doesn't define your entire career. And as for Aaron, I can't predict how he'll react, but I do know that you're a caring and genuine person. Emotions can get complicated, especially when there's a connection. But it doesn't mean you've messed up beyond repair. Maybe he left because he was overwhelmed too, not because he hates you."

Y/N wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her emotions still raw but Lizzie's words offered a glimmer of hope. "I love you, Lizzie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Lizzie gave her a small smile. "You'd do just fine, but remember that I'm here to support you no matter what. And if Aaron is half as good as you think he is, he'll understand that emotions can be complicated."

With Lizzie's understanding presence, Y/N felt a bit lighter, a bit less burdened by her own thoughts. The tears were a release, and now she knew that she had a friend who would stand by her, even when emotions were tangled and complex.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Wrapped in an intimate embrace, her laughter filled the air, a sweet melody that warmed his heart. "You're holding me too tight," she playfully chided, her voice a gentle caress against his naked chest.

Drawing her even nearer, he shifted to face her, their noses touching as he peppered her cheeks, forehead, and lips with tender kisses. "I can't get enough of you," he murmured between each kiss, his words infused with affection.

They were tangled in the sheets, her soft skin pressed against his, sending waves of electricity through his veins. The scent of her hair surrounded him, intoxicating and familiar. Their laughter intertwined, a symphony of shared joy that echoed in his ears.

But then, from somewhere far away, a ringing began. At first distant, it grew progressively louder, a discordant intrusion into their private world. The sound pierced through the dream, shattering the illusion of their intimate cocoon.

Jolted awake, he blinked against the darkness, disoriented by the abrupt transition from the dream's warmth to the chill of reality. His heart raced, the remnants of the dream still clinging to his senses. Yet, the dream's allure slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving him alone in the chilly early morning air. With a sigh, he reached for his phone and saw JJ's name flash on the screen. The dream and its warmth dissolved as the cold realization of work settled in.

It was close to 5am when the team gathered in the office, their faces reflecting the seriousness of their profession. Papers scattered across the tables, photos of crime scenes pinned up on the board, and a palpable sense of focus hung in the air. JJ, Reid, Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss, and Garcia were all present, ready to dive into the details of the new case.

As Aaron walked in, his usually stern expression was even more severe, and his steps were heavy with an unspoken weight. No one commented on his mood; they knew better than to pry into his personal matters. They all had their moments of emotional turmoil, and the unwavering support they showed each other was a testament to their bond.

"Alright, everyone," JJ began, her tone authoritative yet tinged with empathy. "We've got a new case, and it's a serious one. There have been a series of kidnappings in a small town in Albuquerque. The victims are all children around the same age. The parents have reported strange symbols left at the abduction sites."

Reid chimed in, his fingers dancing over the keyboard as he displayed images of the symbols on the screen. "The symbols are a combination of archaic symbols and more recent graffiti. They don't seem to have any direct religious or cult-related significance. It could be the unsub's attempt to confuse us."

Morgan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the images. "Any witnesses? Any commonalities between the victims?"

Garcia, fingers flying over her keyboard, answered, "Most of the abductions occurred in the evening when the kids were playing outside or walking home from school. No witnesses so far. The kids don't seem to know each other, and they come from different backgrounds. There's no apparent connection."

Rossi crossed his arms, a contemplative expression on his face. "We need to find out more about the symbols. Are they a message, a signature, or something else entirely?"

Prentiss added, "And let's not forget that the longer these kids are missing, the higher the risk of harm."

Aaron listened to the team as they discussed possible profiles, strategies, and leads. "Alright, everyone. We don't have a lot of time. Wheels up in thirty minutes. Let's get ready to head to Albuquerque."

As the team dispersed to prepare for the flight, Aaron stayed back for a moment, his gaze lingering on the board with the photos of the victims and symbols. He took a deep breath, his internal struggle evident in the way he clenched his jaw. He knew that his focus needed to be on the case, on the children who were in danger, but the complexity of his own emotions threatened to consume him.

With a determined shake of his head, Aaron forced his personal feelings to the background. He couldn't let his team down. He had a job to do, and the lives of innocent children were at stake. As he joined his team to get ready for the flight, his thoughts shifted entirely to the task ahead, leaving his own turmoil momentarily behind.

The jet's interior was dimly lit as the team settled into their seats. The low hum of the engines provided a soothing background noise, and the gentle vibrations of the aircraft were enough to lull some of the agents into sleep. The fatigue was palpable, etched into their expressions after being abruptly woken in the early hours of the morning. It was a routine they were all familiar with, yet it never became any easier. Yet, among them, Aaron seemed to embody a deeper sense of turmoil. His usually stoic demeanor was marked with a heaviness that went beyond the lack of sleep. The feeling of his dream still lingered beneath his skin, a phantom touch that tugged at his thoughts.

Upon their arrival, the team wasted no time diving into the case at hand. The briefing room buzzed with the hum of conversation as they went over the details, photographs, and evidence collected so far. However, the initial optimism of solving the case quickly began to wane as they encountered unexpected challenges.

The evidence was scattered and disjointed, seemingly leading them in conflicting directions. Clues that should have provided clear paths toward the unsub only seemed to complicate the investigation further. Frustration crept in as profiles were analyzed and discarded, theories formed and debunked. The team's collective expertise seemed to hit a roadblock as the case defied their attempts to decipher it.

Aaron Hotchner's usually sharp mind was also feeling the strain. His lack of sleep from the previous night combined with the emotional turmoil of the dream left him mentally fatigued. Despite his efforts to focus, his thoughts occasionally drifted, and he found himself grappling with inner conflicts that further hindered his concentration.

As the hours passed, the team's exhaustion became palpable. Dark circles formed under their eyes, and the atmosphere in the room grew heavy with the weight of their frustration. The realization that this case was far more complex than they had anticipated began to set in, and their initial optimism gave way to a sobering sense of determination.

With the clock ticking and the case slipping through their fingers, the team would need to rally their resources, harness their expertise, and uncover every possible lead to make sense of the puzzle before them. As the day turned into night, they worked tirelessly, pushing their limits to crack the intricate code that held the key to solving the case.

Friday marked the third day since their arrival in Albuquerque, and the mounting stress was taking its toll on Aaron. The emotional turmoil he had experienced earlier in the week seemed to have intensified his usual work-related stress. He found himself on edge, his patience thinning, and his temper fraying at the edges.

During a tense discussion with the team about their latest lead, Derek's suggestion inadvertently triggered Aaron's short fuse. "I don't think that's the right approach, Hotch," Derek said, his tone firm but well-intentioned.

Aaron's response was sharper than he had intended, particularly screaming "Morgan, we're running out of time. We need to think critically, not waste it on wild goose chases."

The room fell momentarily silent, the tension palpable. The team exchanged glances, taken aback by Aaron's uncharacteristic outburst. Even he realized he had crossed a line. He could feel their eyes on him, a mix of surprise and concern. Without a word, Aaron stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving behind a sense of unease. Derek, always attuned to the dynamics of the team, knew something else was at play here. He excused himself from the meeting and followed Aaron down the corridor.

As he caught up with Aaron, Derek placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Hotch, you mind telling me what's eating at you? I've never seen you snap like that before."

Aaron's shoulders tensed, but he knew he couldn't hide his emotions from someone as perceptive as Derek. He let out a sigh, his frustration mixing with a tinge of vulnerability. "It's... personal stuff, Morgan. Nothing that should affect the case."

Derek raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You and I both know that's not true. We're a team, Hotch. We've got each other's backs. If something's bothering you, it's better to talk it out."

Aaron hesitated, his gaze distant as he wrestled with his inner turmoil. "It's just been a rough week, Derek. Some personal issues got under my skin, and I let it affect my focus."

Derek leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. "And keeping it bottled up isn't going to make it any better, my friend. We're here for you, whether it's about the case or something else. We're a family, man. So, what's eating at you?"

Aaron's voice was steady as he began to explain, his words carrying a mix of frustration and something deeper. "A couple of months ago, I met Y/N at a parent-teacher conference. She's Jack's teacher."

Derek nodded understandingly, showing Aaron he was listening.

"The night we met we talked and talked and I ran into her a couple of times while picking up Jack. All of these were brief interactions but last weekend, we ran into her again at the park. We spent the afternoon together and had lunch" Aaron's gaze turned distant, his thoughts fixated on the memory.

Derek's eyebrows lifted in curiosity. "And?"

Aaron let out a breath, his voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation. "And I felt a pull towards her, Derek. A magnetic pull I couldn't ignore." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I haven't felt that way for someone since...", he didn't have to finish his sentence, Derek knew what he was about to say.

Derek's eyes widened slightly, and his surprise was evident. "Hotch, are you saying..."

Aaron continued, his voice lowering. "I spent more time with her, talked to her about Jack. And then, on Monday, she brought Jack to the office because he was sick. She took care of him and drove him personally to Penelope. I was grateful, more than I can express."

Derek nodded, encouraging Aaron to keep going.

"But then something happened," Aaron admitted, his tone heavy. "I met up with her at school to thank her personally but as I was leaving, there was a moment. A moment when it felt like... like we were both on the edge of something. Like we were about to cross a line."

Derek's gaze was steady on Aaron, his expression thoughtful. "And did you?"

"No," Aaron said firmly. "I stopped it. But it's been eating at me, Derek. I just... I can't stay away from her," Aaron admitted, his voice heavy with conflicting emotions. "But I know I need to. We can't be together, it's wrong. I'm a mess, and I let it affect the way I talked to you earlier."

Derek studied his friend for a moment before speaking, his tone gentle. "Aaron, I get it. But you can't control your feelings. And maybe there's a reason why you're drawn to her."

Derek's presence was a reassuring anchor for Aaron as they stood in the hallway, but his worries were far from over. "I just... I fear that I messed things up completely," Aaron admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "My actions created an awkward atmosphere and even though I know she would never do anything to upset Jack intentionally, I still worry that he might sense something is off."

Derek pushed off the wall, his voice firm. "Look, you can't control what you feel, but you can control how you act on it. Just be honest with yourself and her. And remember, sometimes taking a chance is worth it."

"I hope you're right," Aaron said, a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his voice.

Derek patted his shoulder reassuringly. "I've seen you handle tougher situations, Hotch. This might feel overwhelming now, but it's not the end of the world. Just remember, you're a good father, a good agent, and a good person. Just don't shut yourself off completely. Life's too short for that."

Aaron managed a faint smile, appreciating Derek's encouragement. "Thanks, Derek. I needed that."

"Just looking out for you," Derek said with a grin. "Now, let's get back to work."

He couldn't shake off the realization that these feelings for Y/N were the first he had experienced since his divorce. It was unexpected, a mix of vulnerability and longing that he thought he would never feel again after losing Hailey. The thought of opening his heart again had felt like an unconquerable challenge, yet here he was, facing it head-on. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, a testament to Y/N's impact on his life and he was willing to confront these emotions, even though they seemed to complicate his already complex life.

As they headed back to the rest of the team, Aaron felt a renewed determination. Talking things through with Derek had given him a sense of clarity and a reminder that he wasn't alone in his struggles. The case still demanded their attention, but Aaron knew that he could face it with the support of his team by his side.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

As the team delved deeper into the case, their collective determination and skill began to pay off. Clues led them to a remote location where the unsub was hiding with the abducted children. The tension was palpable as they approached the abandoned warehouse.

With a plan in place, the team moved swiftly, positioning themselves strategically around the area. Aaron, despite the weight of his struggles, was fully focused on the task at hand. As they breached the warehouse, chaos erupted. The unsub, desperate and cornered, held a knife to one of the children's throats, using her as a shield.

The room was filled with shouts and tension as the team tried to negotiate with the unsub and secure the children's safety. Aaron's heart pounded in his chest as he calculated his moves. He could see the fear in the children's eyes, and his determination to protect them surged.

In a split second, Aaron lunged forward, deflecting the knife away from the child with precision. A brief struggle ensued as he wrestled with the unsub, determined to subdue him. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he fought to overpower the desperate man.

During the struggle, a powerful blow landed on Aaron's eyebrow, and a searing pain radiated through his head. The world spun for a moment, but he shook off the dizziness and focused on restraining the unsub. With a final burst of strength, Aaron managed to pin the man down, disarming him.

Breathing heavily, Aaron looked around the room. The team had managed to neutralize the threat, and the children were safe. The relief that washed over him was immeasurable, knowing that their efforts had paid off and that they had successfully rescued the abducted kids.

As the authorities arrived to take the unsub into custody and tend to the rescued children, Aaron leaned against a wall, catching his breath. His eyebrow throbbed but it was a small price to pay for the successful operation and nothing a couple of stitches couldn’t fix. Despite his struggles, he had remained steadfast in his duty to protect the innocent.

In the aftermath of the mission, the team shared a moment of relief. Their collective effort had brought about a positive outcome, and Aaron felt a renewed sense of purpose, knowing that he was part of something bigger than himself.

As the sun began to rise, casting a warm glow over the scene, he couldn't help but reflect on the events of the past days. While his emotions remained complex and tangled, the knowledge that he had made a difference, both as an agent and as a father, provided a sense of solace.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The crunch of fallen leaves underfoot echoed through the quiet park as Aaron walked alongside Jack. The weekend was a rare oasis of calm in the whirlwind of their lives, and he intended to make the most of it. And after a week of back-to-back cases, he and the team deserved a quiet and peaceful weekend.

The vibrant hues of red and orange leaves created a picturesque backdrop, enveloping the surroundings in a warm autumn embrace. Despite the tranquility, Aaron couldn't help but find his gaze repeatedly drifting to the running trail. Each time someone passed by, his heart skipped a beat, a silent hope that perhaps Y/N would appear among them. He knew it was unlikely, a product of his own yearning more than anything else.

Jack's laughter brought his attention back to the present. His son was chasing after a fluttering leaf, his infectious joy filling the air. Aaron smiled, grateful for these simple moments of connection, moments where he could just be a father, shielding Jack from the darkness he faced in his job.

As they continued their walk, the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow that painted everything in hues of gold. The park was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where they could escape the demands of their responsibilities, even if only for a little while.

Aaron's thoughts drifted back to Y/N, like an unbidden refrain. He wondered what she was doing, whether she was also enjoying her weekend, and if the thought of him ever crossed her mind. The memories of their encounters replayed in his mind, each one sparking a mixture of emotions that he was still grappling to understand.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm amber glow across the landscape, Aaron found himself looking towards the running trail once more. Jack tugged at his hand, a question in his eyes. "Dad, can we go play on the swings?" Aaron nodded, his fingers brushing against his son's hair affectionately. They made their way towards the playground, laughter and the sound of children's voices filling the air.

The weekend was a brief respite, a chance for Aaron to find solace in the simplicity of fatherhood and the natural beauty around him.

After a quiet weekend spent together, Aaron helped Jack take a bath, pack his schoolbag for the next day, and get ready for his bedtime story. That's when he turned to his dad and asked, "Dad, are you sad?" Children are often more perceptive of their surroundings than most people realize. Aaron, however, didn't expect Jack to pose such a question while he was helping him get ready for bed on Sunday.

He paused, his fingers stilling as he helped Jack fasten the buttons of his pajama shirt. He looked down at his son, caught off guard by the question. Jack's eyes, so innocent and perceptive, gazed up at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Sad?" Aaron repeated, his voice soft as he knelt to meet Jack's eye level. "Why would you think that, buddy?"

Jack furrowed his eyebrows dramatically, imitating what he had seen on his father's face. "You have this face," he explained with a serious expression, making Aaron chuckle.

"Well, I'm not sad," Aaron began, his voice calm and reassuring. "But sometimes, people can get a little stressed and overwhelmed. And you know, feeling sad is not a bad thing, right? We need all kinds of emotions. But it’s important to talk about them"

Jack considered this for a moment, his young mind processing the information. "So, you're not sad?"

A soft warmth spread through Aaron's chest at the question. "After such an amazing weekend, how could I be sad?" He ruffled Jack's hair playfully. "But you know, if I ever do feel sad, I promise I'll tell you. And you promise to tell me too if you ever feel that way." Jack's eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he eagerly extended his little finger. "Deal! Pinky promise!" Aaron chuckled, linking his pinky with Jack's. "Pinky promise." It was moments like these that reminded him of the simple beauty of his relationship with his son – an unbreakable bond built on trust, understanding, and the willingness to share both the joys and challenges of life.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Throughout the rest of the week, Y/N did her best to put the events with Aaron behind her. She channeled her energy into her work, finding solace in the routine and challenges of teaching. Every time she caught sight of Jack at school, a mixture of emotions washed over her. It pained her slightly to know that her actions might have created some tension, yet she couldn't help but feel a deep affection for the young boy. To keep her mind occupied, she filled her weekend with various activities. She explored new hiking trails, lost herself in the pages of a good book, and even indulged in baking some of her favorite treats. Amidst the distraction, though, her thoughts would occasionally drift back to Aaron. As she tried to put the pieces together, she realized that her heart was caught in a complicated dance between logic and emotion.

The next school week unfolded in a relatively ordinary manner, devoid of any special events or unexpected encounters. Y/N found herself navigating her routines with a sense of quiet determination. While a part of her missed Aaron's presence, she also felt a twinge of relief knowing that she wouldn't run into him on the schoolyard. Days passed, and the routine of classes, lesson planning, and interacting with her students continued as usual. There were moments when sadness washed over her and a of her wanted to believe that Aaron's silence wasn't a definitive rejection, that perhaps he would reach out and they could have an honest conversation about what had transpired. Days turned into a week, and the silence from Aaron remained unbroken. With each passing day, her hope began to waver, and a sinking feeling settled in her chest. The absence of any communication felt like a confirmation of her fears – that he wanted to distance himself, that he regretted whatever moment they had shared.

As Y/N walked towards the school entrance that Thursday morning. It was a routine she had followed countless times before, picking the kids up in the morning and wishing them goodbye in the afternoon.

What she hadn't anticipated was the sight of Aaron standing by the school gates, engaged in a seemingly serious conversation with Lizzie. Her steps faltered as her eyes fell on him, her breath catching in her throat. His presence sent a jolt of emotions coursing through her – surprise, and a trace of anxiety. She watched as he listened intently to Lizzie, his expression somber, and a lump formed in her throat.

Then, unexpectedly, his gaze lifted and met hers from across the schoolyard. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as their eyes locked, emotions unspoken but deeply felt passing between them. The distance felt both unbearable and sacred, the weight of their unspoken history heavy in the air. And then, with a barely perceptible nod towards Lizzie, Aaron turned and walked away, disappearing from her view.

As the schoolyard buzzed with activity around her, Y/N realized that she had been standing still, lost in her thoughts. Her attention shifted to her side, where Jack and his classmates were waiting patiently. She mustered a small smile for them, her heart still racing from the unexpected encounter.

Liz turned around, her expression mirroring the seriousness that had marked Aaron's face earlier, but as she approached the group of kids, her countenance transformed into a warm and welcoming smile. Y/N watched as Liz walked over to her, her heart pounding in her chest with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"What did you tell him?" Y/N whispered to Liz

Liz simply shook her head, her lips pursed in a tight line as she held Y/N's gaze. She didn't utter a word, but her eyes communicated volumes – the unspoken promise to keep whatever conversation she had with Aaron confidential.

"Liz," Y/N's voice carried a hint of urgency, a plea for honesty.

Liz's response was a simple locking of her lips with an invisible key, followed by a reassuring smile. With a quick glance at the children, she turned and began leading them into the school building, leaving Y/N standing there with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

Later in the day, the kids were working on a writing assignment as Jack approached Y/N "Hey, Jack," Y/N smiled warmly as he approached her. "What can I help you with?"

He held up his worksheet, his brows furrowing in concentration. "I don't know what to write for this part."

Y/N leaned down slightly to look at the assignment. "It looks like you're supposed to write about your favorite place. Do you have a favorite place?"

He nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, the park with my dad."

"That is a great favorite place," Y/N replied, encouraging him to continue.

Jack hesitated for a moment before asking, "Can you help me write it? I want it to be really good."

Y/N's heart swelled at his request. "Of course, Jack. I'd be happy to help." She pulled out a chair for him and motioned for him to sit down. "Tell me all about the park with your dad."

As Jack began to share his thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but smile. The way he described their outings, the laughter, and the games they played, painted a vivid picture of their special moments together. She helped him put his thoughts into words, guiding him gently through the writing process.

Once they finished, Y/N read over the assignment with him, her heart warming at his words. "You did a fantastic job, Jack. Your dad is going to love reading this."

Jack beamed with pride, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Miss Y/L/N. I'm really glad you're my teacher."

Jack watched Y/N's face for a couple of seconds, his young eyes taking in her expression with keen curiosity. Finally, he spoke up in his small, earnest voice, "You have the same face today."

Y/N's eyebrows lifted in surprise, her lips curling into a gentle smile. "Same face as who, Jack?"

"Same face like dad," Jack replied matter-of-factly, his little finger pointing towards his own forehead as if mimicking the frown he had seen on Aaron's face before. "He was making the same yesterday. I thought he looked sad, but he said he wasn't sad. He said people get stressed and being sad is okay."

Y/N's heart swelled at Jack's innocence and his attempt to make sense of the world around him. "You're absolutely right, Jack. Your dad is a wise man. Sometimes people do get stressed or overwhelmed, and feeling sad is a normal emotion."

Jack nodded, taking in her words with the earnestness of a child who was eager to learn. "Yeah, and he said we should talk about our feelings if we're sad."

"That's very true," Y/N agreed, her smile softening. "It's important to talk to someone we trust when we're feeling sad or overwhelmed. Sharing our feelings can make us feel better."

Jack's face lit up as if a light bulb had gone off in his head. "So, are you sad, Ms Y/L/N?"

Y/N chuckled lightly, touched by his concern. "A little, Jack. But just like your dad said, sometimes grown-ups feel sad too. It's all part of life."

He regarded her with wide eyes, absorbing her words. "But you'll be okay, right?"

Her heart warmed at his care for her well-being. She reached out to gently ruffle his hair. "Yes, honey. I'll be okay. Thank you for asking."

Jack beamed, his worries seemingly eased by her assurance, and returned to his seat, leaving Y/N to her thoughts. She watched him with a fond smile, grateful for the innocence he brought into her life. As the day went on, she found herself reflecting on the past week, particularly on how she had managed to control her emotions, especially in front of her young students. However, the encounter with Aaron and the conversation he had with Liz had thrown her off balance. She couldn't help but wonder if her emotions had been visible on her face and if her worries and curiosity were transparent to those around her.

As she organized some papers on her desk, her thoughts inevitably wandered to Aaron once again. She wondered if he was feeling the same way she did if he was affected by their last interaction. But her inner voice quickly intervened, scolding her for indulging in such thoughts. "Get over yourself," she chided herself silently, "he is a hardworking FBI agent with more important matters to worry about than you."

Y/N decided to redirect her thoughts and focus on her students. In an effort to create an engaging classroom environment, she initiated a spelling game that had the entire class cheering excitedly.

As the day progressed and the time for dismissal approached, Y/N noticed Jack approaching her again. She offered him a warm smile as he handed her a folded piece of paper. "What is this, Jack?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued. Unfolding the paper, her heart warmed as she saw a series of stick-figure drawings depicting kids playing soccer. The drawings were accompanied by bold blue letters spelling out "Soccer Game on Saturday."

Her heart swelled with affection for Jack and his thoughtfulness. "Did you draw these, Jack?" she asked, a smile gracing her lips.

Jack nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! My team's having a soccer game on Saturday," he exclaimed, his voice full of enthusiasm. "And soccer always makes me happy. So if you ever feel sad, Ms. Y/L/N, you should come and watch us play."

Y/N's heart swelled at his innocent offer. She was touched by his kindness and the genuine concern he showed for her well-being. It was moments like these that reminded her why she loved her job as a teacher so much. The connections she formed with her students were truly special.

However, a small pang of uncertainty tugged at her. She hesitated, wondering if accepting Jack's invitation was the right thing to do. She glanced toward the school building, her mind wandering to thoughts of Aaron. Would he be uncomfortable if she attended the soccer game? As she gazed into Jack's big, sparkling eyes, a warmth spread through her chest. His unwavering trust and earnest invitation were impossible to resist. At that moment, she realized that she couldn't deny him anything, especially when his genuine desire to share his happiness with her was so evident.

A soft smile formed on her lips as she replied, "Thank you, Jack. You're so thoughtful. It sounds like a lot of fun and I'll be sure to keep your invitation in mind, okay?", she said not denying but also not confirming right away that she would attend to his soccer game.

Jack's eyes lit up with excitement, and he beamed at her. Jack beamed at her response, his excitement undiminished. "Yay! That would be awesome, Ms. Y/L/N. I can't wait for you to see us play!"

Later that day, Y/N found herself at home, her mind still preoccupied with the invitation Jack had extended to her earlier. Picking up her phone, she hesitated for a moment before setting it down again. It was the fifth time she had contemplated reaching out to Aaron, torn between the desire to attend the soccer game and her uncertainty about how he might feel with her there. She paced her living room, a nervous energy settling within her. Maybe it was the comfort of her own space that was enabling her to muster the courage she needed or perhaps it was the glass of wine she had indulged in that gave her that extra push. Either way, she finally decided to take action.

Sitting down on the couch, she composed an email to Aaron. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she began to type, explaining that Jack had invited her to his soccer game on Saturday. She kept it simple and straightforward, not wanting to overthink her words. Once the email was written, she hit send and then promptly threw her phone on the other end of the couch.

For the rest of the evening, Y/N deliberately avoided her phone, like it was the plaque, casting occasional glances toward it as if it was a ticking time bomb. The fear of his response weighed on her mind, and she second-guessed her decision to reach out. As the hours passed, her phone remained silent, and the lack of a response gnawed at her. It was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment—relief that she didn't have to confront his answer just yet, and disappointment that his silence left her in a state of limbo.

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Sitting in a sheriff's station in North Carolina, Aaron's mind was preoccupied with the details of the new case they had just taken on. He had barely had a moment to catch his breath after dropping Jack off at school before the team was called in for another assignment. As he focused on the case at hand, his phone suddenly rang, and he recognized the familiar ringtone. Assuming it was Penelope sending over new leads or information, he reached for his phone with a sense of urgency. To his surprise, it wasn't a message from Penelope but an email from Y/N. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her name in his inbox, his curiosity piqued. He opened the email and read the simple yet heartfelt message. “Hi. Jack invited me to his soccer game on Saturday. I didn't accept as of now and wanted to ask beforehand if it would be okay for me to attend?” Aaron's brow furrowed as he read the words, his mind racing to process the meaning behind them. It was unexpected, to say the least. He hadn't anticipated her reaching out to him about something like this. His thoughts momentarily drifted from the case at hand to the decision he now had to make.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the email for a moment before opening his voicemails, a habit he had formed over the past week. His finger hovered over the saved voicemails, and he clicked on one with a sense of anticipation. As Y/N's voice filled the room through the speakers, his heart skipped a beat. It was the voicemail she had left when Jack got sick at school and she couldn't reach him. He listened to her concerned yet caring words, a mixture of yearning and nostalgia washing over him. It had become somewhat of a ritual for him, replaying that voicemail each day. Hearing her voice brought a bittersweet comfort, reminding him of her presence even when she was physically distant. He missed her more than he had expected, her absence leaving an ache in his chest that he couldn't quite shake off. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to get lost in the sound of her voice. The warmth of it wrapped around him like a soft embrace, and he found himself yearning for the connection they had shared. It was both a soothing balm and a torturous reminder of what he couldn't have. He knew he needed to navigate these feelings carefully, for both their sakes and for Jacks.

He didn't want to forbid her from going, even though the conversation he had with her friend Elizabeth was still prominently etched in his mind. But he also didn't want to disappoint Jack, who clearly had a special place in his heart for Y/N

After a moment of contemplation, he decided to respond. He kept his message short and to the point, typing out that it would be fine if she wanted to come. He included the address and the time, ensuring that she had all the necessary details. As he hit send, he felt a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. The decision had been made, and now he could only wait to see how things would unfold.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/N took more time to get ready than she cared to admit. She stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her outfit and nervously fixing her hair. As she finally left her place and walked to the location of the soccer game, her heart started to race. The field wasn't too far away, and the brisk walk helped calm her nerves. But as she got closer, she couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety.

From a distance, she spotted a group of little kids in red uniforms running around, their laughter echoing in the air. Among them, she saw parents gathered, cheering on their children. But what she hadn't anticipated was seeing Aaron there, a clipboard and whistle in hand, seemingly in charge of the young soccer players.

Her heart did a little flip as she watched him interact with the kids."God, why?" Y/N mumbled to herself, her thoughts becoming a quiet, introspective conversation. "Why is this man getting more perfect every time I find out something new about him? How does he manage to be a good dad, good at his job, and coach little kids in his free time?" She let out a soft sigh. She couldn't deny that seeing him in this setting only made him more endearing, and she found herself wondering how he managed to juggle so many responsibilities. Her heart skipped a beat, and she tried to shake off the nerves that were threatening to take over. After all, she was here for Jack and the soccer game. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and joined the gathering, ready to enjoy the afternoon and support the little soccer players.

She positioned herself beside a group of parents, her uncertainty evident in her body language. Unsure whether to approach Aaron or not, Y/N quietly observed as the kids began to warm up for the game. The atmosphere was lively, filled with the energy of excited children ready to play. Suddenly, her attention was captured by Jack's exuberant voice as he spotted her. He darted toward her with an infectious smile that tugged at her heart. Seeing him in his soccer uniform, all she wanted to do was pinch his adorable cheeks.

"Ms. Y/L/N! You came!" Jack's enthusiasm was genuine, and Y/N couldn't help but smile.

"Of course, buddy! Wouldn't miss it for the world," she replied, her voice carrying warmth and affection.

As her eyes met Jack's, she noticed Aaron walking over. It was the first time they had spoken in over a week, and the air seemed charged with unspoken emotions. She noticed the now fading scar over his eyebrow, and the sight of it made her heart ache slightly. She wondered what had happened, but she pushed aside her curiosity.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice soft and sincere, his eyes holding a mixture of gratitude and something else that Y/N couldn't quite decipher.

"Hi," she responded, her own voice a blend of warmth and a hint of hesitation.

Behind Aaron, another man emerged. His presence exuded a sense of wisdom and experience, with salt-and-pepper hair and a welcoming smile. As he approached her, he extended his hand in a friendly gesture.

"Hi, I'm David Rossi," he introduced himself with a light-hearted tone and a chuckle. "Assistant coach."

Y/N shook his hand with a genuine smile. "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

The name seemed to register with Rossi, his eyes narrowing slightly as if connecting the dots. "Y/N? As in Y/N, Jack's teacher?" His gaze shifted between her and Aaron as if considering something intriguing.

Aaron's expression remained composed, as he answered, a slight warning in his tone Rossi immediately understood, "Yeah, Y/N's one of Jack's teachers."

Rossi's playful grin widened. "Well, Jack has been talking about you non-stop. Seems like you've made quite an impression on him."

Aaron cleared his throat, breaking the brief moment of interaction, and nodded toward the field. "Alright, it's time to start the game," he announced before walking away to fulfill his coaching responsibilities.

"Good luck, Jack!" Y/N called out with a supportive smile as Jack dashed off to join his team. She playfully made a crossing-fingers sign, her heart warming at the sight of the excited children.

As the game kicked off, a sweet and almost comical scene unfolded on the field. Aaron and Rossi, both fully immersed in their roles as coaches, seemed to be a picture of dedication. Their shared enthusiasm and camaraderie made them a dynamic duo. Y/N couldn't help but watch, admiring how their interactions reflected their genuine passion for the kids and the game.

With each cheer from Aaron and Rossi, Y/N found herself joining in, her voice blending with the chorus of encouraging words from the parents and spectators. As the game progressed, she became more and more invested, her heart swelling with pride for Jack and his team.

As the kids took a break and gathered around for snack time, Jack and Rossi made their way over to Y/N. She smiled at Jack, trying to push aside the uneasy feeling that had begun to gnaw at her when she noticed the woman by Aaron's side. Her laughter rang out, and the sight of her hand on his arm felt like a small sting in Y/N's gut.

She forced herself to focus on the conversation with Jack and Rossi but the woman's confidence and stunning appearance only seemed to amplify Y/N's own insecurities. She had never considered herself the jealous type, but seeing Aaron with someone else, even in an innocent scenario, stirred up emotions she hadn't expected. Y/N felt a pang of pettiness as she watched the woman continue to touch Aaron's arm and flirt with him. She knew it was irrational to feel this way, but she couldn't help the surge of jealousy that prickled at the back of her mind. The woman's boldness and the way she seemed to have Aaron's attention only added to Y/N's unease. Rossi, with his years of profiling experience, was perceptive enough to catch the shift in Y/N's demeanor. His knowing glance met hers, and for a brief moment, Y/N felt a sense of embarrassment wash over her. She cleared her throat, attempting to shake off the irrational feelings that had taken hold of her. As Jack continued to chatter away, unaware of the undercurrents swirling around them, Y/N forced herself to smile and engage in the conversation She stole a quick glance in Aaron's direction, feeling an unfamiliar sense of competition for his attention.

As Aaron approached with the woman trailing behind him, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way the woman seemed to cling to him, almost like a lost puppy seeking attention. Y/N's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight, but she refused to let her unease show. She was determined to maintain her composure.

Aaron turned to Rossi and asked if he could assist with carrying the snacks and drinks from the car. The woman beside him seemed poised to jump in and offer her help, but before she could utter a word, Y/N spoke up, her voice calm and composed.

"I'll help you," Y/N addressed Aaron directly, her eyes fixed on him as if daring him to object. The words were directed at him, but her gaze seemed to cut through to the woman beside him, a subtle challenge in her expression. Y/N's stance was one of quiet assertion, a declaration that she wasn't going to back down or let anyone else stake a claim. Aaron seemed momentarily surprised by Y/N's offer, and a hint of appreciation flickered in his eyes. With a nod, he accepted her help, and the woman's expression shifted from eagerness to something resembling disappointment.

As Aaron and Y/N walked away to gather the snacks, Rossi watched them with an amused smirk playing on his lips. His gaze shifted down to Jack, who was watching the scene unfold with a knowing glint in his eyes. A small smile curved on Rossi's lips as he leaned down and spoke to the young boy.

"You noticed too, huh?" Rossi chuckled, his amusement evident in his tone.

Jack's face lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "I invited her," he admitted, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

At that confession, Rossi couldn't contain his laughter. It bubbled up from deep within him, a hearty and genuine sound that filled the air. He ruffled Jack's hair affectionately.

"Well, it seems like your plan is working, buddy," Rossi said, his laughter still lingering in his voice. "And you know what they say about meddling in matters of the heart, right?"

Jack nodded, his smile widening. "That you need to be careful because it's tricky business?"

Rossi chuckled again. "Exactly. But hey, sometimes a little nudge in the right direction can't hurt."

Walking up to the car, a comfortable silence settled between Y/N and Aaron. He opened the trunk and efficiently retrieved a bag filled with fruits, sandwiches, and granola bars, passing it to Y/N before gathering juice boxes and water bottles for himself.

"I didn't know you coached his team," Y/N ventured, her voice breaking the silence.

Aaron glanced at her, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm really new to it. I don't really know what I'm doing, to be honest," he admitted with a chuckle.

Y/N's lips quirked up in a smile of her own. "You seemed really professional to me," she replied, her tone teasing yet sincere.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes meeting hers. "Well, I'm glad I managed to fool you then," he said, his voice light and warm.

As they continued their conversation, Aaron found himself realizing even more how much he had missed her presence. Her laughter, their easy banter, and her smile

"You have a good assistant," Y/N chuckled, referring to Rossi.

Aaron nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "He is. He's not just a colleague, but a good friend as well."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Another FBI agent? The third one I met so far" she said, recalling her interaction with Penelope.

Aaron chuckled softly. "Yes, another one. We seem to be everywhere." Their conversation flowed easily, and Aaron found himself talking to her about his experiences coaching the soccer team, Y/N shared some anecdotes from her time in the classroom. It was a comfortable exchange, one that felt so easy and right. As the game continued, Y/N couldn't help but notice that Aaron seemed more relaxed. The weight that had seemed to hang on his shoulders was less prominent, and his smile reached his eyes more readily. It was a sight that made her heart skip a beat, and she silently reminded herself not to read too much into it. Y/N joined the parents in clapping and cheering, her eyes alternating between Jack and the other kids on the field. Even amidst the excitement, she couldn't shake off the niggling feeling that Rossi had sensed her jealousy earlier. As the game reached its conclusion and the kids gathered for high-fives and pats on the back, Y/N found herself standing beside Aaron again. She stole a quick glance at him and couldn't help but notice that he was looking at her too, a warmth in his eyes that sent a flutter through her chest. With a final cheer from the parents, the soccer game came to an end, leaving the kids with smiles of victory and accomplishment. Y/N's heart felt a little lighter, and she found herself genuinely grateful that she had decided to attend the game.

As the soccer game came to an end and parents began packing up, Y/N felt a mixture of relief and contentment. She was relieved that the woman who had been flirting with Aaron earlier was nowhere in sight. Her attention shifted when she noticed Aaron putting a large training bag over his shoulder, a clear sign that he was ready to leave. Seeing Aaron getting ready to go, Y/N takes it as her cue to say her goodbyes. She walks over to Jack, giving him a warm smile. "I had a great time today, Jack. Thanks for inviting me," she said genuinely, her eyes meeting his. Then she turns her attention to David Rossi, offering a friendly smile. "It was really nice to meet you, David," she says politely.

Rossi's grin was infectious. "Oh no, you're not leaving just yet, my dear," he said with a chuckle, his tone warm and inviting. "Soccer games always end with pasta and wine at my place."

Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly, and she shook her head. "Oh, no, really, I don't want to impose," she replied, feeling a bit uncertain about intruding on their plans.

Rossi waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense! It's not an imposition at all. We'd be delighted to have you."

Before Y/N could protest further, Jack spoke up, his voice excited. "Yes please Uncle Dave makes the best pasta!"

Caught between the warm invitation and the genuine smiles of both Rossi and Jack, Y/N found herself unable to resist. She let out a soft laugh. "All right, then. I'd be happy to join you."

Rossi's grin widened. "Excellent! You won't regret it, I promise."

As they walked toward Aaron's car, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The day had taken an unexpected turn, and while she still had some reservations, there was a glimmer of excitement in her heart about the evening ahead.

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The four of them piled into the car and drove over to Rossi's house. Upon arrival, they found themselves in the kitchen, where Rossi immediately started cooking, chopping ingredients and humming a tune.

"Alright, my friends, now it’s time to witness the magic happen," Rossi declared with a grin, his chef's apron adding a touch of theatricality.

"Magic, huh?" Aaron quirked an eyebrow, exchanging amused glances with Y/N.

"Magic in the form of a delicious meal, my dear friend," Rossi replied dramatically, waving his knife with flair.

As Rossi continued to cook, Y/N, Aaron, and Jack took seats at the kitchen counter, their anticipation evident. Rossi was in his element, regaling them with stories of his adventures, embellishing each tale for comedic effect.

"Back in the day, when I was just a little Rossi, growing up in the heart of Italy, my nonna was the queen of the kitchen," Rossi began, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.

Y/N and Jack leaned in with interest, captivated by Rossi's storytelling.

"Nonna had this way of making every dish feel like a warm embrace," Rossi continued, his voice tinged with fondness. "I remember one summer afternoon when she decided to teach me how to make her famous lasagna. Now, let me tell you, Nonna's lasagna was a work of art."

Jack's eyes widened with excitement. "Did it taste better than regular lasagna?"

"Oh, it was a league of its own, my boy," Rossi chuckled. Y/N couldn't help but smile, enchanted by Rossi's vivid description.

"And as we worked, Nonna shared stories from her own childhood, her voice filled with the wisdom of generations," Rossi continued. "She told me how cooking was more than just a skill; it was a way of passing down love, tradition, and a piece of ourselves to those we care about."

Rossi's gaze seemed to drift into the past, lost in his memories. "Nonna's lasagna was a labor of love, taking hours to prepare and cook. But when it finally emerged from the oven, bubbling and fragrant, it was like a taste of home."

"That sounds amazing," Y/N said softly, touched by the sentiment.

"It was, my dear," Rossi agreed, his eyes shining. "And to this day, whenever I cook, I can feel Nonna's presence in the kitchen. Her love and passion for food were passed down to me, just like her cherished lasagna recipe."

Jack looked at Rossi with wide eyes. "Do you still make her lasagna?"

"Every now and then, I do," Rossi replied with a smile. "And every time I take a bite, it's like sharing a meal with Nonna once more. And voila!" Rossi exclaimed, placing a beautifully plated dish in front of each of them. "A taste of my culinary wizardry."

Aaron, Y/N, and Jack exchanged impressed glances as they took in the beautifully presented dishes. Rossi's cooking was as delicious as it was visually appealing.

"Alright, my friends, let's not forget the most important ingredient of any good meal," Rossi announced with a flourish, producing a bottle of wine.

He poured the wine with a charming smile. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the conversations flowed effortlessly. Aaron and Y/N found themselves engaging in light banter, teasing each other in the process.

As the evening progressed, the camaraderie between the four of them grew stronger. They shared stories, traded jokes, and reveled in the simple joy of being in each other's company.

Eventually, the plates were cleared, the glasses refilled, and they settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation. The night was a testament to the power of good food, great company, and a lighthearted atmosphere.

"Ah, my friends, it's nights like these that remind me why good food is meant to be shared," Rossi mused, raising his glass in a toast.

"To shared laughter, great company, and the magic of a well-cooked meal," Aaron added, his gaze locking with Y/N's for a moment. As their glasses clinked and laughter filled the air, the worries of the outside world seemed to fade away, even if it was just for that moment.

Jack's yawns became more frequent, and he began to rub his eyes. "I think someone's getting a bit sleepy," Rossi noted with a grin.

"Yeah, he had quite the active day," Aaron replied, ruffling Jack's hair affectionately.

Rossi turned to Aaron. "You know, you're welcome to let him crash in one of the guest rooms. We've got plenty."

Aaron considered the offer. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Rossi confirmed with a wink. "It's not like I haven't had a house full of guests before."

Aaron looked down at Jack. "Hey, buddy, do you want to sleep here tonight?"

Jack's eyes blinked sleepily. "Can I, Dad?"

"Of course," Aaron said gently, sharing a soft smile with his son.

"But!" Jack's sudden energy surprised everyone. "Uncle Rossi has to read me my bedtime story."

Rossi chuckled. "Well, I'm honored, young man. I'll make sure you have the best bedtime story."

As Rossi and Jack made their way toward the guest room, they exchanged a sly fist bump and a wink. It was as if they had a silent agreement, a plan to set the stage for Aaron and Y/N to be alone and have a chance to talk, without realizing they were being nudged together.

As the sound of Rossi's voice reading Jack's bedtime story floated from the hallway, Aaron turned to Y/N, his expression a mixture of emotions. Y/N stood up and started carrying the empty plates and glasses over to the sink and Aaron immediately did the same.

"So... thanks for coming today. Jack was really happy to see you," he said cleaning off the plates.

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of comfort in the relaxed atmosphere. "I'm glad I could make it. He's such a sweet kid."

"Yeah, he is," Aaron agreed, his gaze softening.

As the laughter from the other room continued, Aaron and Y/N started washing the dishes. The dim lighting and the comfortable ambiance of the kitchen seemed to encourage their conversation.

"I hope you know that I never meant to make things awkward," Aaron began, his eyes searching hers.

Y/N gave a small nod. "I know, Aaron. It's just... well, it's a complicated situation."

"Yeah," he agreed with a sigh. "And I want you to know that I value you as Jack's teacher, and I don't want anything to affect that."

Y/N appreciated his honesty. "I feel the same way. Jack is a wonderful kid, and I wouldn’t let anything jeopardize my relationship with him."

After a moment of silence, while his hands were still buried in the bubbles of the dishes, he said, "I just wished I could rewind and undo what happened." He seemed lost in his own thoughts, not noticing the impact his words had on Y/N.

As Aaron's words hung in the air, Y/N's heart seemed to shatter into a million pieces. The plate she was drying nearly slipped from her grasp as the weight of his statement hit her with full force. She set the plate down and wiped her hands hastily, fighting to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.

Not daring to meet Aaron's eyes, she managed to say, without her voice trembling, "I should leave now, it’s getting really late." She felt an overwhelming urge to escape, to distance herself from the pain she felt welling up inside her. She couldn't bear the thought of him seeing the hurt in her eyes.

As she moved to grab her coat, her hands were shaking. "Thank Rossi for the great meal, everything was perfect." She needed to get out of there, to find a moment of solace where she could let her emotions out without anyone seeing.

Aaron was caught off guard by her sudden change in demeanor. "Wait, why the hurry?" he questioned, a mixture of confusion and concern in his voice. "Wait I’ll drive you home." He moved to follow her, not understanding what had shifted so abruptly.

"I’ll get a taxi," she replied, her voice distant as she left through the door. Without looking back, she left him standing in the entryway, a swirl of emotions racing through his mind. He watched the door for a moment, his heart heavy with a sense of longing and uncertainty, unaware of the depth of pain his unintended words had caused.

Jack was already sound asleep, but Rossi remained in the background, giving Aaron and Y/N some space to talk. When he heard the front door close, he quietly left the room and found Aaron standing in the entryway, a kitchen towel in his hands. "What happened?" Rossi asked with a concerned expression. "Did Y/N leave?" Aaron looked up, his face a mix of confusion and frustration. "I don't know. We were cleaning up, and we talked about what happened last week." Rossi's brows furrowed. "What did happen last week? Was that the reason you were so out of it the whole time?"

Aaron let out a sigh, briefly closing his eyes as he recounted the events. "We almost kissed," he admitted, the weight of the words heavy in the air. "And we’ve been avoiding each other ever since, and it has been awkward. And I told her that it wasn’t my intention.”

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "And what did she say?"

"Nothing," Aaron replied, his confusion evident. "She agreed. I just wanted her to know that I didn’t want things to go like this."

Rossi's expression turned incredulous. "Wait, Aaron, how did you phrase it?"

"I just told her I wished things went differently."

Rossi's frustration was palpable. "No, tell me word for word."

Aaron frowned, trying to recall the exact words. "I said, 'I just wished I could rewind and undo what happened.' "

Rossi practically facepalmed, his patience running thin. "Aaron, you are a complete idiot," he said, his frustration seeping into his words. "How did you become a unit chief for god's sake? Do you realize how bad that sounded?"

Aaron blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. Rossi shook his head in disbelief. "You just made it sound like you regret what happened like you wish you could erase it. No wonder she left upset."

Realization dawned on Aaron's face, and his shoulders slumped. "God, I didn't even realize. That's not what I meant at all."

Rossi sighed, his exasperation softening into understanding. "Aaron, you need to have a serious conversation with her, and this time, make sure you're clear about your feelings. She's not a mind reader."

Aaron nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and regret. "You're right. I need to fix this right now," he grabs his keys and asks Rossi, "Can I leave Jack with you?"

“Go loverboy!”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/N felt so stupid, so dumb. The tears welled up in her eyes almost immediately as she sat in the back of the taxi, the reality of the situation crashing down on her. How could she have believed that he felt the same way? The weight of disappointment and embarrassment was suffocating, and she didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the dampness on her cheeks.

Inside the safe walls of her apartment, she stumbled her way to her bedroom and collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow. The fabric absorbed her muffled sobs, providing a brief respite for the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. How could she have let herself get carried away with the idea that he might have had the same feelings? The pain of rejection felt like a physical ache in her chest, and she couldn't stop the tears from flowing freely.

Lost in the sea of her own despair, she didn't know how long she had been lying there, letting her tears soak the fabric of her pillow. But suddenly, the ringing of her doorbell and the persistent knocking on her door shattered her isolation, jolting her back to reality. When she opened the door, her heart clenched painfully at the sight of Aaron standing on the other side.

His normally composed expression was full of concern and worry as his eyes landed on her tear-streaked face and puffy red eyes. Without hesitation, he took a big step toward her, his instinct to comfort her overriding any sense of restraint. Embracing her in a tight hug, he held her as if trying to shield her from all the pain that seemed to surround her.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice laced with genuine concern.

She felt a mix of emotions surging through her - the surprise of seeing him at her door, the lingering hurt from their earlier conversation, and the warmth of his embrace all colliding within her.

"Aaron, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice quivering as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Part of her wanted to push him away, but another part wanted nothing more than to sink into his embrace.

He held her even tighter, his voice gentle as he spoke into her hair. "I'm so sorry. Please don't cry anymore, please."

His touch, his soothing words, and the overwhelming sincerity in his voice melted away the walls she had built around herself. She couldn't hold back her tears, her emotions spilling out uncontrollably. He continued to hold her, one hand caressing her hair while the other arm was slung around her body, providing a sense of security she desperately needed.

"I'm such an idiot, please," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. "I didn't mean it like that, okay? I don't regret what happened between us."

Her fingers clung to the fabric of his shirt as she buried her face in his chest, her tears dampening the fabric. Her breath hitched, and she pulled back slightly to look up at him, her tear-filled eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. The sincerity she saw in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

"Then why did you say… why did you say you wished you could rewind and undo it?" she asked, her voice trembling as she fought to make sense of it all.

He brushed his thumb gently over her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. His touch was so tender, a mixture of comfort and apology in the gesture.

“I meant that I wished I could change how I handled things," he said, his voice earnest and regretful. "I avoided you, didn’t apologize for what I did, and let things become awkward between us. I wished that I would’ve had more courage to stay that day, to kiss you, and to tell you how crazy I am about you. I let my own fears and concerns affect the way I handled things between us."

As his fingers lingered on her cheek, his touch seemed to caress her heart, and her eyes met his. There was so much unspoken between them, so many feelings that had been left unsaid. His hand moved from her cheek to cup her face tenderly, his touch gentle yet filled with a longing that she could sense. It was a touch that mirrored the night they had shared that almost kiss at the school.

"You don’t know how much I've wanted to kiss you since the first night we talked," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in his words sent shivers down her spine, and she felt drawn closer to him.

Every word he spoke hung in the air like a promise, a confession of the emotions they had both been grappling with. She found herself inching closer to him, her heart pounding in rhythm with the raw honesty that he was offering. Her breath caught as her gaze flickered to his lips, the memory of that almost kiss flooding back.

"Then why didn't you?" she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and yearning.

He hesitated, his gaze locked with hers, his thumb tracing circles on her cheek. "I didn't want to rush into things, especially with Jack involved. And I let my own past experiences cloud my judgment. I'm sorry for how my words came across. I don't regret what almost happened between us. And I don't want to let my fears hold me back anymore."

As his gaze bore into hers, it was as if time stood still, and all that mattered were the emotions that hung between them. She reached up, her hand covering his on her cheek, and their fingers intertwined.

"Then show me," she whispered her voice a plea, her eyes searching his.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a delicate, tender kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a promise of things to come, and a reassurance of the feelings they shared.

Their kiss ignited with a fervent intensity that took them both by surprise, fueled by the desperation, longing, and desire that had been building between them. It was as if their pent-up emotions had found an outlet, and they surrendered to the magnetic pull drawing them together.

His fingers, once gentle against her cheek, now tightened with a mixture of urgency and possessiveness. The hand that had caressed her face found its way to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. His touch was both a declaration and a plea, a silent admission of his longing and a desperate desire to bridge the distance that had kept them apart.

Their lips melded together, the initial softness giving way to a hunger that spoke of unspoken yearning. His lips moved against hers with a demanding fervor, a silent affirmation of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface. Their tongues danced in a dance of discovery, a symphony of passion and curiosity that left them both breathless.

Desperation lingered in the way they moved as if each touch was a lifeline they couldn't bear to let go of. Her fingers found the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as though afraid he might slip away. Their bodies pressed closer, almost instinctively, their breaths mingling in the space between their lips.

His grip on her neck, while firm, was not forceful; it was a connection that radiated a sense of protectiveness, a silent vow to keep her close. As their kisses deepened, his hand slipped down to the curve of her waist, pulling her body flush against his. Her hands explored the contours of his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as if memorizing his form. With each touch, their need grew, the intensity of their kiss mirroring the emotions that had been swirling within them for so long.

The air was charged with electricity, their connection intensifying with every stolen breath and every brush of skin against skin. It was as if they were in their world, a realm where the past held no sway, and the future was an open canvas waiting to be painted. And as they finally pulled away, their lips swollen and their breaths heavy, it was with a newfound clarity and an unspoken promise that their journey was just beginning.

As they looked at each other, their eyes held an unspoken promise of the affection and connection that had finally been acknowledged. Their laughter bubbled up from deep within, a release of the tension that had built up between them. It was the kind of laughter that resonated with the sheer happiness of the moment, the weight of their emotions suddenly feeling lighter.

His laughter turned into a chuckle as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. She could feel the vibrations of his laughter against her skin, the sensation sending a rush of affection coursing through her veins. Her fingers gently brushed through his hair, a gesture of comfort and tenderness that mirrored the affection in their laughter.

He raised his head, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. It was as if he couldn't believe that he was finally holding her, that the distance and hesitations had evaporated into thin air.

As she gestured toward the couch, he followed her lead, his heart racing with a mixture of exhilaration and contentment. The soft cushions embraced them as they sat down, their bodies settling into a comfortable rhythm as if they had always been meant to fit together this way.

She positioned herself sideways, snuggling under his arm, her warmth seeping into his side. Her knees found a spot on his thigh, her head resting on his shoulder. The closeness felt natural, a seamless connection that they had both yearned for.

His arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her in even closer. His other hand on her arm, his fingers tracing soothing patterns. With every touch, every gentle caress, the barriers they had constructed around their emotions seemed to crumble further. The contentment that radiated from their beings seemed to fill the room, an atmosphere of ease and serenity.

Her scent, a subtle blend of warmth and comfort, surrounded him, wrapping him in a cocoon of familiarity and solace. He couldn't help but press a soft kiss to her hair, a gesture that held a promise of protection and affection.

At that moment, as they sat entwined on the couch, laughter still echoing in the air, they both felt like they were floating on a cloud of happiness. The weight of the past, and the uncertainties of the future, all seemed to fade into insignificance as they basked in the simple joy of being together. And as they remained wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that this was where they truly belonged.

With their bodies nestled together on the couch, and the gentle atmosphere surrounding them, it felt like the perfect moment for them to open up about their feelings. The sense of vulnerability was there, but it was coupled with an understanding that this was a safe space for their emotions.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Y/N softly spoke, her voice carrying a mixture of honesty and tenderness. "I missed you, Aaron. The past week... it felt like a void without your presence."

He tightened his hold on her just a bit, his fingers instinctively tracing patterns on her arm as he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I missed you too, more than I imagined I could."

Aaron gave her a gentle squeeze, relishing the warmth of her presence beside him, and continued, "I was a mess last week. I snapped at Derek, my colleague at work, without any reason," he chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Basically, I was not fun to be around."

She giggled, pulling away slightly to look up at him. "Oh, I can relate. I annoyed the hell out of Liz the whole week with my bad mood. She's a saint for putting up with me."

Aaron smirked with a playful gleam in his eyes. "She is definitely something," he replied with a slight undertone, and at that moment, Y/N recalled Aaron and Liz talking at the school gate. Curiosity piqued, she asked, "What did you and Liz talk about at school the other day? She wouldn't tell me."

A hint of a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Aaron's lips. "Well, your friend Liz told me not to play with your feelings. And she promised me that if I ever made you cry again, she would find me and make me regret ever even looking in your direction."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock for a moment, then she burst into laughter. "Oh my God, she threatened you!" She couldn't contain her amusement, and her laughter filled the air. Aaron joined in, his laughter a harmonious accompaniment to hers.

Once their laughter subsided, Y/N wiped a tear from her eye and playfully nudged Aaron's arm. "Well, I have to admit, I'm glad she's got my back." Aaron grinned, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and fondness. "Oh, you have no idea. I felt like I was facing off against a seasoned profiler during our conversation."

Y/N's laughter bubbled up again, and she shook her head. "Honestly, I never knew Liz had such a protective streak in her."

He reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "I think it's safe to say she cares about you a lot. You know I was gonna come talk to you eventually. Explain how I feel but I guess Jack’s invitation beat me to it”, he chuckles.

She leaned into his touch, her heart warming at his words. "And what were you going to tell me?"

He sighed softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "I was going to tell you that I realized that I couldn't keep away from you any longer. The emptiness I felt when you weren't around was too much to bear. And when I thought about the possibility of losing you, of not having you in my life... I couldn't let that happen."

Her fingers intertwined with his, their connection grounding them in the moment. "I'm glad you didn't let it happen," she said softly, her eyes reflecting the sincerity of her words.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gentle, affectionate kiss. "Me too," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody that resonated deep within her.

Amid the echoes of their laughter, Y/N's gaze softened as she turned to Aaron, a question forming in her mind. "Aaron," she began hesitantly, "what do you think we should do now? I mean, how do we navigate this? There are things like my job, and our situations, that might hold us back."

He met her gaze, his expression earnest. "I know we have a lot to talk about, and we will, but please, just for tonight, let's pretend that there are no obstacles in our way. Let's not think about the complications or challenges. I just want to hold you, kiss you, without constantly considering all of that… just for tonight."

His words held a mix of vulnerability and longing, a desire to capture the present moment without the weight of the future. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, his sincerity resonating with her own desires. For a moment, she allowed herself to let go of her worries and fears, focusing solely on the connection between them.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Just for tonight," she whispered softly, her voice carrying an unspoken promise. And as they sat there, holding each other, the weight of the world seemed to lift, leaving behind only the warmth of their connection and the hope that maybe, just maybe, the obstacles ahead could be overcome.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

𝕋𝕒𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @mrs-ssa-hotch @aaronhotchswife @aaronhotchner135 @lambsheepsheeping @teenagegoateecollectorposts @hmett20 @callm3c0nfus3d @superskittles @carolinelec @emobabeyy tags don’t work if your blog is private

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds imagine #thomas gibson

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lightandheatao3 · 1 year ago

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The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 5: The Favor

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Emily explains.

Read chapter 5 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

They gave Emily all the time she needed and all the space they could afford her, meager as it was in the ever encroaching walls of the bunker.

Spencer tried not to be pissed off about it.

He tried not to resent how they let her sit in silence. They passed the note and the photo between them wordlessly. When it had been his turn to be strung up in the town square they had offered him no such courtesy.

They all waited for her to be the one to speak first and to offer whatever level of explanation she chose. How sweet. How respectful.

Realistically, he understood the difference. He had been physically ill. There was a real and immediate danger (beyond the real and immediate danger of being locked in a bunker by a serial killer, that is). They were all still reeling from the shock of the kidnapping. When they forced him into both a figurative and literal corner and pried his secrets from his clammy, trembling hands, they did so because they were afraid for him and for themselves.

God forbid they had just given him a second to breath before they’d cut him open and spilled his guts all over the floor.

He pinched at the skin on his wrist hard, banishing those thoughts.

Emily needed them. Needed him. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in petty musings. He was glad she wasn't being put through the same indignity he had been.

Rossi was sitting beside her, both of them against the far wall. He held her hand. Spencer got the feeling he knew something the rest of them didn’t.

Really, it wasn’t all that hard to piece it together. They had all met John Cooley on the exorcism case. They knew he had been a close friend of hers, along with the victim, Matthew Benton. They had all been young and reckless together in Rome when Emily was a teenager.

Spencer knew a thing or two about her youth. She had confided in him over the years as much as he had in her. Emily was private, sure. Even with him, even after all this time. But she was still one of his best friends.

He knew enough to understand why her decisions regarding John Cooley may not have been entirely level headed.

It had been what felt like hours but could have been minutes or days for all he could tell anymore. Occasionally, he looked up from his place where he sat on his much utilized, much too thin mattress, and caught JJ or Derek’s eyes. The two of them sat together on the opposite side of the room to him. They had come to a silent truce, but he was sure he hadn't heard the last of it.

A few times, he caught Hotch staring at him.

He often felt like Hotch was about to ask him a question but was never quite able to find the right words.

There were snippets of time where Hotch’s presence was familiar and comforting. Other times where it felt like the man was a stranger wearing Aaron Hotchner’s skin.

He wondered how Penelope was doing. She would be the one checking in on his mom, making sure she was coping. He wondered how Luke was doing. How much hell he was giving everyone who so much as breathed in an unhelpful way. He didn't need to wonder about Tara. She was calmer than anyone had any right to be under that kind of pressure and she wouldn't rest until they were safe.

They were alive and well and fighting every moment for their missing friends. He knew it. He knew it. He knew it.

“I know it was wrong,” said Emily.

Spencer wasn’t the only one to flinch at the broken silence.

“You don’t have to justify yourself, Emily,” said Rossi, squeezing her hand.

“I do,” she insisted. "You know if you had learned about this in any other circumstances you would demand an explanation."

He glanced at all the others. None of them said anything, but they shifted closer to Emily, just a little, listening.

She continued. “You all remember John?” They nodded. “After everything that happened with Father Silvano, with Matt, he struggled. I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming. With this job, I should know better than anyone how life changing it can be to go through something like that, even if you survive it. But John was always so stable. I should have known-” she stopped, breath hitching.

“You can’t blame yourself,” said JJ. “He could have asked for help. He had a family, right? And friends? You were barely in his life anymore. There's nothing you could have done,” she said gently.

“I should have checked in on him,” insisted Emily. “I’m the only one in his life who was in a position to understand. But that’s not the point,” she said before any of them could reassure her further. “He scheduled an email to be sent after… after he was gone. He wanted his family to think it was an accident. By the time I got it, it was too late for me to stop him. I knew his parents and his sister. I knew how much this would crush them,” she said, casting her eyes to the ceiling and blinking back tears.

“So you did what he asked,” Hotch finished solemnly. “You helped cover up his suicide.”

She nodded. “I know it was wrong, but I thought, if I could save his family even a tiny bit of pain and honor his last wish… at least it would be something.” She took a deep breath, letting Rossi put an arm around her. “I called in a very big favor. Made sure that the coroner’s report said accidental overdose as a result of a bad mix of prescribed medications. It was close enough to the truth to not raise red flags.”

Emily picked up the photograph that sat along with the Unsub’s note. It was a picture of her laying flowers at John Cooley’s grave. She had never even told any of them that he died.

She didn’t elaborate on the details of their history together. On the past that he was certain Rossi knew, and almost certain that he knew, and that the others may well have put together, too. It felt cruel to make her say it when the ever watchful camera loomed, so he had no intention of digging deeper.

“It’s not your fault he died,” Spencer said softly, drawing all attention to him.

She looked at him from across the room with her gleaming, red-rimmed eyes. “I should have seen that he needed help.”

“He didn’t want you to see,” he said, to her, to all of them.

“Why not?” she asked like she already knew the answer. "Why didn't he want me to see that he was struggling?"

“For the same reason you chose to risk your career rather than talk to any of us about this,” said Rossi, giving Spencer a tiny nod of understanding. “And the same reason I kept pushing you all away after Krystal died, and the same reason Gideon left without a word to anyone all those years ago: Life is hard. You could have seen he needed help. He could have asked for it. But that’s not how it went down and you aren’t at fault for that.”

She wiped under her eyes. She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she did give Rossi’s hand one more squeeze. They looked like brother and sister, thought Spencer, with their matching grey hair and dark eyes and bone deep trust for one another.

Silence reigned again, and again Spencer lost all track of time.

He didn’t want to be another one of Emily’s broken friends who pulled away from her and showed up dead one day.

Another Matt. Another John. Another loss for her to compartmentalize away and do her best to forget about.

He didn't want to be clean, either.

For all his genius, he couldn't find a way to reconcile these incompatible wants.

He didn’t flinch when Emily broke the silence this time.

“How could she have possibly known?” she said, eyes flicking up to the camera then back to all of them. “John wasn’t stupid. He covered his digital footprint with sending that email. He was no Garcia, but he knew a thing or two about cyber security, and I made sure I was covered on my end.”

“How much do you trust the person you asked for that favor?” posited Derek.

“Enough,” said Emily.

“So, either our Unsub is extremely technologically capable,” said JJ, “Or they are very, very good at getting people to talk.”

They all looked at each other.

As much as he was loathe to think it, the camera had started to feel normal to him. The red, blinking an eye of a beast that never slept. He'd gotten somewhat used to it.

Suddenly, though, he felt as exposed as he had those first few days. He folded his arms tightly across his chest.

Just how deep was this Unsub capable of digging?

Not one of them looked like the were eager to find out.

“You said you had an idea,” said Derek. “Before Rossi found the letter?”

Emily sat up straighter. She pushed her hair back, face schooled, gesturing for them all to circle around.

They all shuffled across the room to her until they were huddled together tight. Emily spoke in a low whisper. They still weren’t sure the extant to which they were being audio recorded. None of them had found evidence of hidden microphones, but there was likely one built into the camera housing at the very least.

“Until now we’ve had to play nice because one of us needed medical care,” she started, and Spencer pushed down twisting embarrassment at what a burden he had been. “But now that you’re recovering, Spencer, I think it’s time to start fucking things up a bit,” she continued with a small twinkle in her eye. “Agreed?”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitched up. Any fights or dramatic reveals or horrible truths were a thing of the past.

“Agreed,” came a chorus of whispers.

The best way to catch an Unsub had always been to push them to make a move. The more they were forced to take action, the more likely they were to make a mistake.

As skilled as he was at thinking, Spencer couldn't stand when it was the only option available to him. It made him want to crawl out of his skin. If he saw a house on fire he could analyze the wind trajectory, the fuel composition, the optimal paths of ingress and egress, a hundred different variables. All that mental capacity, and it never changed the fundamental truth about him: He was always going to be the person that runs into the burning building without a second thought.

He needed to do something, anything.

Now was the time for action.

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid angst #emily prentiss #bau team as family #bau team #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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bobbie-robron · 4 years ago

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Do you know what? My mum was right. You’re bang out of order. I don’t know why I bother with you sometimes.

13-Dec-2016

#robron #aaron dingle #aaron with foot in mouth disease #liv proving herself to bernice re gabby’s bullying #the girl who cried wolf too many times #she’s going proper off the rails is she?#aaron being closed minded for any explanation #you do not say those kind of thinks to a child #aaron really doesn’t do tough love well do he?#20161213 #robron episodes 2016

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ssahotchnerr · 2 years ago

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currently thinking about aaron reconnecting with an old friend he had back in college.

like, maybe they both met each other during their first year of college and they're both focused on the law path, but by senior year when aaron already has law school set up, reader takes a step back and decides she actually doesn't want to practice law. she still decides to finish school since she's so close to getting her degree, but she immediately enlists in the military once she's graduated.

and gosh i can totally imagine aaron and reader trying so, so hard to remain in contact because they got so close during their time in uni, but with aaron's time being taken up by studying and reader rising through the ranks it's get so hard

they're still able to send the occasional text, letter, and even a quick call here and there, but one day reader just stops responding. mail is sent back to aaron, calls are mysteriously dropped, and texts don't go through and he's just like, 'what happened' :(

flash forward years later to where maybe one day aaron is grabbing some coffee before going into work and on his way out he bumps into someone and at first he doesn't think much of it cause hey, it happens, but when the other person mumbles out a quick, "oops sorry about that!" his head just snaps up and he realizes that's it's you

and oh my god

the eye contact

the tension

everything

maybe reader stops him and offers her number yo explain everything (she got recruited into some secret task force and lost contact with practically everyone)

maybe aaron lunges forward and wraps her up into a hig because he missed her so much and he had always thought you were dead

maybe, just maybe, they're able to pick up where they left off and are perhaps able to *ahem* turn to a new page if you get what i mean (i'm cackling rn)

oh my gosh just the heartbreak </333 trying so hard to keep in touch- at first, it's easy. multiple letters every week, maybe the occasional call, and over time it just slowly starts to dwindle :( one letter a week turns into one a month, same happens to phone calls, and then it's just complete radio silence :(

and aaron tries so so hard to hold onto you, telling himself that one of these days, conversations will pick up like normal, things will go back to how they were used to be, and he stays hopeful for months. but once a year finally passes, and he still hasn't heard anything from you, he forces himself to move on :( he has no other choice, because it hurts and he doesn't want to put his heart through that any longer :(

but you often flash into his mind, all your past memories. your nights at school- studying in the library until the early morning hours, laughing over popcorn and a movie in his dorm room, you stealing all his college hoodies and him pretending he hates it when you do so- ugh but seeing you in his clothes smiling all teasingly at him- like HA whatcha going to do about it? :D ugh did things to him that he can't even put into words. that one kiss the two of you happened to share. he misses you more than anything, and you're classified as the one who got away.

and likewise, he's constantly on your mind. his dimpled smile, his laugh, his gorgeous brown eyes haunt you when you try to sleep at night. you would do anything to see him again, do anything to give him an explanation of why you disappeared and it wasn't intentional and you're so so sorry, but part of you fears that now that you're gone, he would want nothing to do with you. you still write him letters, you have a whole collection of them but keep them tucked away. it's all you wish you could talk to him about- what you've been doing, small things that happen during the day or cross your mind, countless ones explaining why you went quiet, your favorite parts about him, and how you've been so in love with him from the very very start that you don't even know what to do with yourself.

so then comes that day in the coffee shop. aaron is waiting patiently for his order to be made, you just got yours and are turning to leave, when you bump into him and he apologizes like he's the one at fault, the sweetest man :( the two of you make eye contact, realization hits, and everything just

stops.

both of you are speechless, and everyone else who was in the coffee shop seemingly disappear (aaron even completely misses his order being called) because the only thing you can do is focus on each other. it's almost like a dream, literally because both of you have dreamt about refinding each other, speaking everything that was unspoken into existence. but now that it's happening, neither of you know what to do.

the both of you move at the same time, throwing your arms around each other and not daring to let go. aaron's previous anger fills his chest up a bit - the anger that one day you were just gone, but he doesn't care in the slightest, because finally you're in his arms again. right where you belong. you're filled with a sadness too, because you know you owe him a reason, and you're a bit taken aback he embraced you to begin with, because he deserves to be mad.

ugh aaron mumbles "i missed you so bad" to which you reply "i can't believe it's you" <3333 before the two of you release each other. silence follows, because first, the two of you are still in shock. second, there's so so much that's unspoken and needs to be addressed. and again, neither of you can believe after so long, you've finally finally finally crossed paths again. and that you're both in love with each other.

aaron says something how he has to get going before he's late :( and you immediately offer your number, insisting that the two of you have to talk, which he wholeheartedly agrees.

hehe that very night the two of you get together for dinner, everything gets addressed, including the fact that both of you are completely and utterly in love with each other, even after all this time. and it's like the two of you were never separated to begin with, that nothing has changed.

the two of you finally get your blissfully happy ending <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #let's talk aaron <333333

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years ago

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wait i simply would like to know your thoughts on what makes hotch autistic 🤲🧎‍♀️

Hey friend! I'm sure I'll find more examples on my rewatch, but I'll share a few that immediately come to mind.

Disclaimer: I am autistic and this headcanon is just for fun. If you disagree, that is totally fine. Many traits of autism can overlap with childhood trauma (among many other things), so that's another totally reasonable explanation for this character!

Reasons I think Aaron Hotchner is Autistic:

Intense, prolonged eye contact, rarely blinks (S5E2, "Haunted")

Collects coins and is "a bit of a nerd" (S1E3, "Won't Get Fooled Again")

Awkward, inability to socialize (literally joined a play to get a girl's attention)

Difficulty breaking routine, hyperfixates on tasks, even when he has important events for his family

Blunted affect - speaks in a monotone, has a flat expression, rarely smiles (S2E6, "The Boogeyman")

Limited responses to conversation, quiet and introverted (despite being lonely and clearly craving social contact, only appears to be friends with people he works with)

Rigidly follows rules, wears the same outfit, obsessed with a traditional depiction of authority (became a lawyer, only wears formal outfits, drawn to coaching/leader positions)

Blunt and forthright, even when others would consider it inappropriate, and even when it does not advance the case (S6E7, "Middle Man")

Poor interoception (sensing internal state) as displayed by his difficulty recognizing when he is in pain (S9E5, "Route 66")

Difficulty training others to emotionally handle the job (S2E15, "Revelations")

Close personal relationship with Gideon and Spencer, who I also headcanon as Autistic

Regularly asks everyone if they are alright, possibly due to difficulty recognizing when someone needs comfort versus when they'd like to be left alone

That's all for now, folks! Let me know if you have any other ideas!

#aaron hotchner #unit chief aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner headcanon #autistic hotch #criminal minds headcanon #autistic aaron hotchner #autistic headcanon #criminal minds

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scuttling · 4 years ago

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(Not So) Casual Friday

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 4,456 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch (it's not a main component but he very much has the tummy here), Pining, Accidentally admitting attraction, Embarrassment, A little angst, Oral sex, Protected sex Summary: Your best friend Derek finds out about your feelings for Hotch and teases you mercilessly. You can manage it, though, until the first ever Casual Friday, when Hotch shows up to work in a black polo and jeans and you kind of ruin everything. Or maybe you don't? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Okay, girlie, today’s the day,” Derek says when you set your bag and coffee cup on your desk on Monday morning. You shoot your best friend a tired smile and wonder for the—you’ve worked at the BAU for almost two years, so it’s probably the 500th time—for the 500th time why he has to be such a morning person when you would prefer not to have a conversation until at least 10 AM.

“Today’s the day for what?” you sigh, asking out of obligation, because it’s obvious that’s what he’s waiting for; he smiles, picks up your coffee and hands it to you, which must mean you sound bitchy. You take a grateful sip, close your eyes and exhale through your nose.

“For you to admit to me that you’re in love with Hotch.”

You spit out your coffee—only all over yourself, which is great, wouldn’t want to inconvenience Derek at all—and then cough so hard he has to thump on your back to help clear your airway.

It draws some attention; Hotch comes out of his office, takes a look at the two of you and probably regrets hiring the both of you, then walks down the stairs to make sure you’re okay.

“What happened? You’re wet,” he says a bit gruffly, looking at the coffee all over your chest and sleeves. You glare over at Derek, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.

“Derek made me spill my coffee.” You grab a handful of tissues off your desk and pat at the wet spot, trying to soak up the worst of it, but it’s not salvageable. You’ll have to change your shirt.

“And then you… choked on it?” Hotch asks, to clarify. Derek does laugh at that; the things Hotch is saying happen to have dual meanings, slightly sexual, and now that Derek knows—thinks he knows—about your thing for Hotch, it’s clear he finds it all so hilarious. He’s a twelve year old boy in a grown man’s body.

“Okay, I didn’t spill, I spit,” you correct, looking up at them, and Derek makes an exaggerated face of disapproval.

“Should have swallowed,” he says, trying to sound serious, and you shoot him an irritated look and reach out to slap him in the chest. Asshole.

“Do you need help getting cleaned up?” Hotch’s expression is kind, sweet, but you’d sooner die than have him blot coffee off of your boobs. It would be mortifying, especially in front of Derek.

“No, no, I think I’m okay. Thanks,” you add with a soft smile, and then you reach up and pull your sweater over your head, unzip your go bag, and search for another top.

For some reason, Hotch has a coughing fit scarily similar to the one you just had, and you turn to pat his back like Derek did for you.

“Are you alright?” you ask, looking up into his face, and he nods despite his watering eyes.

“Fine,” he croaks, and he leaves as quickly as he came. You sigh, because it’s not even nine and your day has already been so weird.

You’re wearing a tank top, and thankfully the coffee didn’t get through to that layer, so it’s quick and easy to throw another lightweight sweater over top of it; you ball up the wet one, shove it in the dirty clothes portion of your bag, zip it up and stash it under your desk. Derek looks like he’s having the best day of his life.

“You realize you just undressed in front of Hotch,” he says with a tone you don’t appreciate. You roll your eyes.

“I did not. I had a tank top on underneath.” You almost always wear an undershirt, because you’ve been a cop long enough to know that sometimes your clothes get torn or messed up in the line of duty, and you’re not trying to offer a free show while taking down an unsub. Derek wiggles his eyebrows, points at your chest.

“Yeah, one that put those little boobies on display. His eyes bulged out of his head like a cartoon character.” This time, you punch him in the arm, hard. It’s too goddamn early for this.

“Can you please shut up already? I don’t have a thing for Hotch.”

“Ah, I didn’t say you had a thing, I said you’re in love with him. And I have evidence; lots of it.” You tip your head back, groan, wondering what you did to deserve a best friend who is also such a pain in the ass, and it’s that moment that Hotch chooses to rejoin you; he looks a little flushed, probably from the coughing earlier.

“Uh. We have a case; I know not everyone is here yet, but you can head up to the briefing room, I’ll grab the others when they arrive.”

“Sure thing, sir,” you say easily, grabbing your tablet and what’s left of your coffee; you gesture for Derek and he follows, laughing and shaking his head. “Okay, what is it now? I’m so glad you find me entertaining today.”

“‘Sure thing, sir,’” he says with a high, breathy voice you assume is supposed to mimic yours. “You want his dick so bad.” You narrow your eyes at him as you head upstairs.

“Uh, because I was being respectful? I know that’s a foreign concept for you, the world’s biggest asshole, but you don’t have to read anything into it.” You take your usual seats at the table, pull up the note-taking app on your tablet, and Derek sits back, crosses his arms behind his head.

“Well you’re not calling me ‘sir’, and I’m the sexiest piece in the office, so it’s hard not to read into it.” You look over at him, elbow on the table, chin in the palm of your hand.

“Sexy is subjective, and you don’t do it for me, sorry to break it to you.” He scoffs, laughs, and you laugh too because you both know you see each other as brother and sister, buddies, and fellow former cops, and absolutely nothing else.

“Yeah, I get it, only Hotch does it for you; he’s not my type, but I can see how a young lady like yourself could be drawn to his brooding exterior.”

“I’m not drawn to his exterior!” you practically growl, and then you’re joined by Spencer and JJ.

“Good morning. What’s going on with you two?” JJ asks, loading up the monitors for the debriefing, her eyebrows raised.

“She’s in love with Hotch,” Derek says completely nonchalantly, and you rest your head on the table, on top of your forearms, and sigh.

“She’s what?” JJ’s whole face lights up, and you seriously regret everything.

“I’m not in love with anybody!” you mumble against your arms, and then you sit up, because you’re clearly going to have to defend yourself. “And I’d appreciate it if you quit saying that I am.”

“I told you I have evidence,” Derek reminds you, leaning back in his chair a little. One swift kick would have him toppling ass over tea kettle, but you’re too nice, even when he’s actively trying to ruin your life. “Shall I go over it while we wait?”

“I’ll be an objective third party,” Spencer says with a brief smile, and you sigh, wave your hand toward Derek.

“Alright, let’s hear it. I’m sure I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for whatever evidence you might think you have.” He grins like this is the moment he’s been waiting for, and you feel a little stupid for encouraging this.

“For one, you always look at him. When I’m delivering a profile, I notice you watching the locals, making sure they understand what we’re going over, since you're the queen of analyzing the micro expressions. But when Hotch is delivering a profile, your eyes are on him the whole time. Same goes for discussing theories on the jet; anyone else, and you’ve got your face in your tablet, scribbling notes, but you always look at him when he speaks.”

Your cheeks get hot. He’s a captivating speaker, is all, with that deep, velvety voice, and you can learn a lot from him, so you pay attention. That’s just being smart.

“Second, you tense when he gets close to you: not like you don’t want him to touch you, but like you’re halfway to jumping him already and trying to control it. I could probably put my hand in your pocket and you wouldn't even flinch, but if he leans over you to point at something you look like you’re about to cream your pants.”

“I have seen that, actually,” JJ offers, and you look over at her, betrayed. Sure, you get a whiff of his clean, crisp cologne, or feel the heat of him at your back, and your body reacts, reminds you that this is your boss and you’re at work and you can’t get turned on by the way he smells, but that’s actually a good thing, not an indicator of feelings or anything.

“Third, there’s something up with you and the gray suits. I can literally tell that he’s wearing one before I even see him, all because of the look on your face. It’s like you’re drunk on the gray suit.”

“Okay, that’s not true,” you say with a roll of your eyes—the gray suits are god tier, but there’s no way you’re that obvious—but it’s Spencer who speaks up, this time.

“You know, I have noticed that. Your pupils tend to be more dilated when his suit is gray or blue than when it’s black.” Fuck. You sigh.

“He barely ever wears the blue. It looks so good on him,” you murmur, and then you snap your eyes shut, cover your face with your hands. “Fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“To be fair, we are profilers,” Derek says, leaning in to pat your back. “But also to be fair, he’s been a profiler longer than any of us, so if we know, he definitely knows.”

“Not helping, Derek,” you grind out, and then you’re joined by the rest of the team. Penelope takes the seat next to you, leans in with a worried tone of voice.

“Is everything okay?”

“She’s having a small crisis, but she’ll be fine,” JJ says with a smile, and you don’t miss the way Hotch looks you over when she says it, concern in his eyes. “Alright, so we’re headed to Arkansas…”

Later that morning, when you’ve been given your instructions—yours are heading to the crime scene with Emily and Derek—Hotch pulls you out into the hall, rests a gentle hand on your arm.

“Are you alright? JJ mentioned you were having a crisis earlier. This is the first time I’ve been able to get you alone, and I wanted to check on you.” You take a deep breath, look up at him, so handsome in a black suit, white shirt, green tie—he almost never wears a green tie, and you absently think it brings out the more golden tones of his eyes—and smile softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s really nothing. Personal stuff, and I’m dealing with it.” If by ‘dealing with it’ you mean you’ve been repressing it, shoving it down day in and day out until your feelings are choking you, then yeah, you’re dealing with it. “Thanks for checking, though, that’s kind of you.”

“Of course. I’m here to help in any way I can, if you need me.” Good god, do you need him, emotionally, physically, but that’s fantasy, and this, what he’s offering, is rooted in reality. Good things do happen, but not to you.

“Thanks.” Your voice is weak to your own ears, and he swallows, nods; you see Derek hovering by the door, waiting for you, and you pull away to join him, plastering a smile on your face. You don’t talk about it again until Friday, and at that point it’s extremely unavoidable.

It’s Casual Friday, newly implemented by the bureau as a way to boost morale, and while it doesn’t really excite you, because you’re fairly casual anyway, others take full advantage of it. Others, including Hotch.

He shows up to work wearing a black polo and dark jeans, his usual watch. It’s easily the most simplistic, basic outfit a man could decide to wear on Casual Friday, but this isn’t just a man, it’s Aaron fucking Hotchner, and so naturally, you lose your damn mind.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the damn polo didn’t fit him perfectly, tight across his shoulders and chest and the little tummy he has that makes you want to be under him so badly, your stomachs pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly, his strong thighs working against yours…

“Hello, are you alive in there?” Emily asks, waving her hand in front of your face; the two of you, along with Derek, are in Penelope’s office for lunch while Rossi, Reid, and JJ are out of the office for a seminar. You blink, shake away your thoughts and hope and pray they don’t come back—but they’ll come back, they always do.

“She’s just short circuiting because of Hotch’s Casual Friday look,” Morgan says with a wink, sitting backward in his seat. “She’s been drooling so much I’ve had to follow her around with a mop to clean up after her.” You push your wheeled chair away from them with a groan, needing space and air and, potentially, a brain transplant. You’ve gotten nothing done all day long.

“Can you blame me? The man comes in here everyday, buttoned up tight, looking incredible in a suit and tie, and then he shows up in that black polo, all snug and hot and delicious, and you expect me not to freak out? You guys are lucky I didn’t pass out.” You’re met with silence, and you blink, confused, at your friends, but they’re all just kind of staring with looks of barely concealed humor. “What? It’s not like it’s a secret that I want to climb him like a tree.”

“Pretty sure it was a secret to him,” Penelope says, looking shocked, and you whip around in your chair to see Hotch standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and a little flushed.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I, uh—” He raises a hand, waves you off.

“It’s okay. No harm done; thank you, for the, uh. Compliment.” He steps forward, hands a manila folder to Penelope. “Thanks for taking care of these,” he says softly, and then, unsurprisingly, he gets the hell out of there. You wish you could disappear off the face of the Earth.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you mutter when he’s gone, leaning forward with your head in your hands. “That’s it, I’m quitting. It’s been nice knowing you guys.”

“Okay, don’t be dramatic,” Derek says, and you look up to glare at him; he’s the one that started all this in the first place. You were fine, feelings tamped down and suppressed, until he brought it up and then told everyone you know.

“Don’t tell me not to be dramatic, Derek! This is all your fault. You never respect my boundaries, you never know when to just let me be, you always have to pick and pick until you wear me down. Maybe I had a reason for wanting to keep my feelings private, did you ever think of that?”

“I know you're upset,” Emily begins softly, because there’s some pretty thick tension between you and Derek now, but you stand up, push your chair across the room, and shake your head.

“I’m not upset, I’m fucking humiliated. I’m going home; let him know I’m sick, will you?” You exhale deeply, storm upstairs and grab your stuff and drive home with tears in your eyes. You’ve never been so embarrassed in your life, and add that to the absolute heartbreak you’re feeling? You’re just happy you make it to your apartment, so you can break down with cheesecake and a sappy, romantic comedy with a happy ending: those perfect, fictional worlds are pretty much the only place one is guaranteed. You are, as planned, hunkered down on the sofa in your softest pajamas, watching You’ve Got Mail and eating the center out of an entire cheesecake with a spoon when there’s a knock at your door. You groan, pick up your cheesecake tin, and walk over to it, fully expecting it to be Derek come to beg for forgiveness for ruining your life, so it’s no surprise you drop your dessert on the floor when it’s actually Hotch on the other side.

He looks down at the tin, then up at your face, cracks the barest hint of a smile.

“I thought you were sick; I brought soup,” he says, holding up a paper bag, and your heart thumps in your chest. You wipe a hand over your face, because you haven’t been exactly neat in your heartache cheesecake consumption, and then you kick the tin across the floor and invite him in, closing the door behind him.

“I thought it was obvious that I wasn’t actually sick, just… really embarrassed,” you say when he turns back to look at you. “I can’t believe you heard all that stuff I said… I’m really sorry I made you uncomfortable.” You take the bag from his hand and invite him to follow you into the kitchen, where you set it on the counter, lean against it. He comes close, but not so close you can’t function, which is good; your comfy pajamas are shorts and a loose tank top, so you feel a little exposed already.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he says softly, and you frown, must have heard him wrong. He presses his fingertips against the counter, as if for support. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was… unexpected,” he explains, “very unexpected, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

You flush hot, and you can feel the bad decision part of your brain switching on, warning bells ringing in your head.

Whatever you do next has the potential to be extremely stupid, and you would like to avoid that at all costs; you love your job, after all, despite how physically and emotionally exhausting it can be, and you love your team. Time to think with your upstairs brain only.

“That makes me feel a little better,” you say truthfully, and despite the pep talk you just gave yourself, you move closer to him like there’s an invisible magnetic force between you; you would imagine a guy like Hotch would step back, keep his distance, but he only cranes his neck a little so he can look down at you more easily.

God, he’s tall. And he smells good, and his face is perfect, and that goddamn polo...

“Good, I’m glad. I don’t want you to feel bad about this. I’m not uncomfortable, it’s not… it’s not unwanted.” You swallow audibly, looking up at him, wondering if he knows what he’s saying, what it sounds like.

“It’s not?” you ask, and it comes out breathy; he takes a small step closer to you, brushes his fingers over your arm, peers into your eyes.

“No, it’s not. I’ve been thinking of you, too; I know you know you’re beautiful, but you’re also so smart, and strong-willed, and a force to be reckoned with. I’m proud to have you on my team, and I’d be proud… to have you climb me like a tree.” He smiles again, just the barest hint of one, and you put your arms around him and pull him closer for a kiss.

One long, slow, perfect kiss turns into another, then another, and he presses your back against the counter, his hands on your face and your hands on his thick waist; you hum into the kiss, revel in the feel of his lips on yours, his tongue sweeping past them, and when you pull back for air it feels like there’s only one question that needs to be asked.

“Bedroom?” you breathe, and he nods, and you take his hand and pull him in that direction, pausing to kiss him several times before you get there. “You don’t happen to have a condom, do you?” you ask, breathless, guiding him to the bed, and he frowns, shakes his head.

“I didn’t want to seem presumptuous.” You grin at that, lean forward and kiss him, your fingers in his hair.

“I find it so hot that you even say presumptuous. I might have one here somewhere.” You open your nightstand, move around books and toys until you find a couple; you flip them over, checking to see if they’re expired, and offer him a couple options. “They’re still good, surprisingly. You can, uh. Choose the one that would work best.”

He looks them over, picks one and hands back the rest, and you throw them back in the drawer and slide into his lap, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says, holding your waist as you look down at him, completely in awe that this is happening. “But I want to clarify: if you’re looking for something casual, I don’t think we should go any further.” You inhale softly, surprised by his straightforwardness, and you lean in, kiss him slowly.

“I don’t want casual. I want to be with you.” His eyes are so brilliant, dark in the dim light of your bedroom, and he nods, presses his lips to yours and slides his hands beneath your top, guides it over your head. Then they move to your shorts, slipping them gently off your hips, and you stand so he can push them to the ground.

You’re both breathing heavily, a little rough, and you step between his legs, kiss him again, run your hands down his chest, closing your eyes with a sigh because you finally get to feel him after a year of just imagining what it would be like. After a beat, you open your eyes, look into his, smile.

“Really grateful for Casual Friday,” you whisper. “Otherwise you might never have found out I’m kind of in love with you.” You ease the polo over his head, drop it on the ground and encourage him to stand so you can take off his pants; he does, but before you can drop to your knees as planned, he takes your face in his hands, presses one soft kiss against your mouth.

“I’m more than kind of in love with you.” Oh, if that isn’t the greatest sentence your ears have ever heard… You wrap your arms around his neck, kiss a little more, forgetting that you planned to finish undressing him; when you remember, you make quick work of it, then have him lay back against the bed and settle between his legs.

You put your mouth on him because you want to, more than anything, and his hand drops to your hair, caressing you while you suck slowly, deeply, holding him with one hand and pressing against his stomach with the other. His moans are soft and gorgeous, his body tense beneath your hand, and you’d do this all night, but he murmurs your name, coaxes you up, puts his hands on your back as you settle against him.

“You’re so incredible. I never would have imagined I’d get this, get you,” he breathes, skimming his hands over your sides and hips, and you kiss softly, steamy and sweet.

“Me neither.” You lean up, make space for him to roll on the condom, and then press him inside; your breath hitches, and so does his, and you lay on top of him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, arms around each other tightly while you move. “Hmm. Aaron,” you sigh, hair falling around him, and he groans, digs his fingertips into your hips.

“Sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth.” You smile, but it slips away when he surges up to kiss you, leans up so he’s sitting with you in his lap. He slides a broad hand up your back, wraps it around the nape of your neck, and pumps his hips up as you sink down, eliciting a series of soft, eager moans from the both of you.

“Feels like I’ve waited so long; I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I wanted you,” you tell him, chest heaving, and he brings you to him for a kiss, something a little rougher, less refined. He’s getting close.

“Never. You make me feel so much.” You reach back against his leg for support, work harder to bring him off, and when he comes he crushes his mouth against yours, delicious and more uncontrolled than you’ve ever seen him. He chants your name, so soft and sweet rolling off of his tongue, and then gets you on your back so he can press deeply inside.

You feel so incredibly full, panting beneath him, your hands on his waist and your feet on the backs of his thighs; his perfect face is inches from yours, all shallow breaths and decadent, passionate kisses, and when you climax you pull him closer, sigh, unravel completely in his embrace.

Maybe good things do happen after all. You hold each other and talk for a while, after a quick pitstop to the restroom, and then your stomach growls—understandably, since the only thing to fill it since lunch was that stupid cheesecake—and Hotch orders takeout on his phone from bed; god bless technology.

There’s a knock at the door twenty minutes later, and you know that’s quick for your favorite Thai place, but you’re not complaining because you’re officially starving. He offers to grab it, throws on his boxers and heads for the living room; after a few minutes, you wonder what’s taking so long, pull on your robe and go to check on him.

Hotch is talking to Derek, who is standing in your living room with a piece of cheesecake and a shit eating grin.

“I came with a peace offering, but now I think I’ll wait for a, ‘Thank you, Derek,’” he says, and you roll your eyes, stalk over and take the cheesecake out of his hands. You give it to Hotch, lean up to kiss Derek on the cheek, and push him toward the door.

“Thank you, Derek. Go away, Derek,” you say with a smile of your own, and he raises his palms and retreats down the hall, laughing as he goes.

This is just one more thing he’ll tease you mercilessly about, but this time the benefits outweigh the costs. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #dad bod hotch

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the-modernmary · 4 years ago

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chess, not checkers || a. hotchner x f!reader

Summary: Cross-examining Agent Hotchner should have been a lot more simple than it had been. But when the questioning slips out of your control, you find yourself being profiled right there in the middle of the courtroom. Amazing how one stranger can know you better than anybody you've ever met.

Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Fingering, (light) choking, semi-public sex, adultery, anger sex, enemies to lovers, edging, lawyer hotch <3

Word Count: 8k+

Comments: This is so heavily inspired by “charcoal grey” because we all know how hot he was in that scene. Thank you to @angelfxllcm for being an absolute godsend as I wrote this and being the most supportive friend ever. (If you haven’t read her work, you absolutely should!)

“Fucking FBI and their selfish ass schedules,” you grumbled as you hurried through the hallway of the courthouse, your intern Robin on on your heels. “Court gets pushed back for a week because Agent Hotchner just had to leave with them on a case instead of working remotely, and then expects us to drop everything to go to court the second he gets back to D.C. As if we don’t have jobs too. As if I don’t have six other cases sitting on my desk that now have to be pushed back because of him.”

Robin scrambled behind you, nodding along to every word that left your mouth. “Does this happen with the, uh…”

“BAU,” you supplied.

“—BAU, right. Do court cases usually get pushed back for them?”

You shook your head as you checked your watch. A glint caught the corner of your eye. Shit, your ring. You hadn’t expected to go to court, and completely forgot to leave it at home. You pulled it off and slipped it into the outside pocket of your bag, hoping nobody noticed.

“No. Most cases from the BAU never go to court,” you explained. “There’s enough evidence against the people they arrest that it’s almost always a plea.”

The Bankers Box in Robin’s hands almost slipped as you placed another file precariously on top of it. “Then why is this case going to court?”

Your step faltered as you processed her question, and you couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. “You did read the brief for this case, right?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted the answer, except her embarrassed blush and averted gaze gave you enough of one. “Seriously? Okay, well, first of all, because of that, you won’t be sitting at the attorney’s table with us. Instead you’ll be in the public seating. I won’t weaken my case because you decided to be unprepared. If this happens again, you won’t be welcome to join me in court at all, am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Deciding to take pity on the poor intern, you sighed as you started your explanation. “Our client claims that his arrest was unlawful and therefore none of the evidence they found should be usable. I’m inclined to agree with him, so we’re fighting all of the charges that were made with evidence found after the arrest.”

“So you don’t think he’s guilty?”

“I don’t ask that question. I’m not God and I’m not his priest, I don’t need to hear his confession. I just need to get him out of unjust and illegal charges.”

Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “So he’s going to walk free? Even after everything he did? How do you sleep at night?”

Fucking Christ, how did this girl even get into law school? You rolled your eyes, suddenly regretting your decision to take on an intern. “No, he’s not going to walk free. He’s going to get a lesser charge, because everything else was obtained illegally. And I sleep very well, actually, because my job isn’t some episode of Law & Order. Less than 10% of my cases ever go to trial. I’m not here to suddenly convince juries that the evidence is wrong. My job is making sure that everybody is given their constitutional rights, that the police are doing their jobs correctly, and that the State isn’t over-punishing. Any cop knows that, and if you ever come across one that doesn’t, you know that you should look into those cases even further. You have to realize, criminal defense lawyers—”

“— are the last line of protection against a corrupt system.” You turned to see your assistant, Marcus, making his way towards you, briefcase and your spare blazer that you keep in the office in hand. “I see you’re giving her your famous anti-prosecutor lecture.”

Marcus helped you slip on your blazer over your satin button up, his hands lingering on your skin for just a little too long to be considered professional, and it made you shiver in anticipation. “God knows she needs it. Thank you, Marcus, for bringing these so quickly. Were you able to get the physical copies of Agent Hotchner’s files?”

Marcus held up his briefcase. “All right here. Although I have to say, I’m a little lost as to why you need his service records.”

The three of you turned the corner to enter the courtroom, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Robin obediently took her seat in the public viewing area while you and Marcus pushed through the swinging door to settle at your table. “I’ve heard stories of Agent Hotchner’s testimonies. He used to be a prosecutor, so he’s not easily tricked, but he is prideful and will defend his work. I’m going to use that to my advantage. It’s like I always say, practicing law means always playing chess, never checkers.”

Marcus took the seat next to you, making sure to sit close enough that his knee brushed yours the whole time. “You know, I was thinking, this case is complicated,” he whispered, “And we haven’t combed through everything yet… It could take more time than we planned.”

You smirked, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “Agreed. I’ll tell Tony I have to stay late at the office tonight.”

Before Marcus could continue his flirting, you were distracted by the door to the judge’s chamber opening, revealing the back of a man in a black suit. “Thank you again, your honor, for the continuance,” came the deep timbre of the man, and oh. You certainly weren’t expecting that. “A young girl was able to be reunited with her family this week because of it.”

The man in the doorway turned, and your breath caught in your throat. He was tall and buff and expensive-looking and absolutely gorgeous. His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, the sleeves of his blazer straining against his biceps. He carried himself with an aura of confidence, like he belonged in the courtroom, and he was making his way directly towards you. Unconsciously, you separated from Marcus, putting as much distance between you and your assistant as possible without raising suspicion.

The man said something to the prosecution before turning to you, hand outstretched. He said your name as a greeting, and your name had never sounded so good. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

When you stood up to shake his hand, you tried to ignore the way his eyes raked down your body, or the way the two of you held on just a moment too long to be considered proper. It felt as if he was looking right through you, learning all of your secrets as though they were written on your body. No, you knew that look. He was studying you. “Agent Hotchner, it’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Counselor. Please, call me Aaron.”

You raised your eyebrows in Aaron’s direction, still shaking his hand, and it made your skin burn. You dropped his hand. “I’m just glad we’re able to get this case done and over with. Hopefully with no more delays.”

His eyebrows quirked upwards in what could only be described as shock. “I see your reputation precedes you,” was his only reply before going to his respective seat, and if he noticed you watching his every move, he made no indication of it. That being said, you definitely felt his gaze on the back of your head as the judge entered the room and the session began.

As the proceedings dragged on, you and Marcus continued to talk strategy, his hand finding its way to your thigh ever so often. You also continued negotiating with the prosecutor, both of you flashing Post-It notes of potential plea deals that you would be willing to accept, always careful to keep it out of the eyes of the judge and jury. By the time Aaron had been called to the stand, the offer given to you still wasn’t low enough. Fine, if the prosecution wanted to make a fool of themselves, so be it.

You listened to Aaron’s testimony with the prosecution, completely enraptured. There was something about the way he spoke, so full of authority and confidence, that made the entire room drawn to him. He was incredibly intelligent, that much was clear, and despite the many years since he had actually practiced law, that prosecutor candor hadn’t left him. Staying focused on the case had proven to be more difficult than previously expected. You found yourself staring at his lips, and it didn’t take long for your mind to conjure up some obscene and explicit situations starring the man in front of you.

Eventually, his eyes caught yours, and he watched you, his lips — god, those lips — quirked up in a smirk. Aaron watched you expectantly, and in the light of the courtroom, his eyes were almost the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink it all in.

A sharp “Counselor” broke you out of your trance. In the corner of your eye, you could see Marcus looking at you in concern, but he was the furthest thing from your mind now, especially as Aaron let out an amused huff of air.

“Counselor, does the prosecution wish to cross-examine the witness?” the judge asked with barely hidden annoyance, making you think that it probably wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.

You stood up quickly, smoothing down your pencil skirt as you did. “Yes, your honor. Thank you,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady as you noticed Aaron’s eyes trailing down your bare legs.

The cross-examination started normally, and Aaron answered all of your questions with careful precision that only a lawyer could pull off. He seemed to know exactly where you were trying to go with your questions, and easily sidestepped any unflattering implication you were trying to make. Long, biased questions were met with short, clipped answers, not giving you anything to work with. Whatever move you made, Aaron was right there, two steps ahead with you. Never in your life had you met somebody who could follow you so easily or could match your wit without so much breaking a sweat.

It was exhilarating.

“Agent Hotchner,” you started, hands clasped behind your back. “Could you please explain to the court how profiles are used when finding and apprehending suspects?”

Aaron sat up a little taller in the witness box. “Using behavioral research and past case studies, we’re able to construct what we call a profile of the perpetrator, or unsub. Anything they do can give us insights as to who they are — their victims, what weapons they use, even how they dispose of the bodies. Once we have a profile of who we believe is committing these crimes, we have our technical analyst run the parameters through her system. From there, narrowing down our search is easy.”

You nodded slowly, pretending to mull over what he was saying. “For clarification’s sake, in layman’s terms, you build your profile off of assumed psychology, and not concrete evidence, is that correct?”

The muscles in Aaron’s jaw flexed, a sure sign he was gritting his teeth. “Behavior analysis is a tool, just like any other—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Agent,” you interrupted, and oh, he was not happy about that.

His tongue darted out from between his lips. “The research we use for behavior is—”

“Yes. Or no.”

Aaron hesitated, his frustration building up to palpable tension that settled in the courtroom like a thick fog. You weren’t giving him a chance to explain or show off anymore, didn’t allow him to be seen as the smartest person in the room anymore, and that was getting to him.

“Yes,” he conceded, grimacing as if admitting that was physically painful for him.

“Thank you,” you replied, and he caught the unspoken that wasn’t so hard now, was it? even if the rest of the room did not. You walked back over to your table, snatching up a piece of paper and holding it in the air. “Your honor, the defense would like to submit Exhibit Seven into evidence.”

Once the judge gave her express permission, you placed the form in front of Aaron with your left hand, perfectly manicured fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. You almost missed the way his head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed, like he was staring at a puzzle half complete. “Agent, could you please tell us what’s laying in front of you now.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the paper before meeting back with yours. “This is a part of our official report of the case. Specifically, it has the profile that was used to lead us to the apprehension of Mr. Mckenna.”

“Does it say on that paper who had the final sign off on the profile before it was circulated?”

“Yes, that would be me. As Unit Chief, my job is to sign and finalize any reports.”

“And could you please read the profile, verbatim, as written on that report?”

Aaron’s face remained neutral, with the exception of his eyebrows scrunching together. Slowly, he had started to piece together your strategy, and he didn’t like it. “The unsub is a white male, between 32 and 40 years old. He’ll most likely be unemployed and driving a van or truck — anything that would let him easily transport his equipment and victims. We believe that he’s also had run-ins with the law before, likely as a juvenile. He’ll come across as friendly, if not a little shy. We believe that this comes from a failed relationship in his past, one where he believes that he was manipulated and wronged, and now he’s going after surrogates for that woman. Killing these women is the only thing that gives him any sort of power. If we can figure out who this past relationship was, it will lead us directly to the killer.”

You paced back and forth in front of the witness stand, your skirt tightening around your legs with every step you took. “Between 32 and 40 years old, unemployed, and killing surrogates… Except Mr. Mckenna is 22 and works part time as a bartender. How do you justify arresting my client with those inconsistencies?”

“As I mentioned before,” Aaron started, his voice dangerously low, “A profile is just one tool we use of many. Not every single part of the profile will fit every single time. Which is why we also rely on outside evidence to ensure that we have the best chance at catching the unknown subject as quickly as possible.”

“Except you had no concrete evidence, which you admit in your own report!” You took two steps closer to him, getting as in his face as possible without risking being held in contempt. With every word that left your mouth, your voice got more and more forceful, and you got more and more under Aaron’s skin.

“All of it was circumstantial at best. You had a hunch, an inherent bias against my client due to his previous conviction record, and you were frustrated at your own inability to get a good lead. But you can’t arrest somebody on a hunch, or because you’re angry. You had no evidence and the man you arrested didn’t even match the profile that you came up with!”

Your eyes locked with Aaron, his gaze heavy, and neither of you dared look away first. “Objection!” came from the prosecutor behind you. Exactly what you wanted. “Argumentative and foundation.” You flashed Aaron a predatory grin.

Two moves to checkmate.

“Sustained,” said the judge.

“Withdrawn.” You tapped the witness bench, hoping to convey an air of aloofness and calm. Aaron scowled. “Agent Hotchner, before joining the FBI, you were a prosecutor, is that true?”

Confusion flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, and it gave you a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that you had the upper hand. You knew the answer to every question you were about to ask, and he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out where you were going with this line of questioning, or what the relevance even was. “Yes, that’s correct.”

You made a soft hum of approval. “Could you please walk us through your higher education?”

“I attended George Washington University for both my undergraduate and law degree.”

“What did you major in for your undergrad?”

Aaron hesitated. “Political Science.”

Check. “So all together, you’ve had about seven years in higher education. In that time, how many psychology classes did you take?”

It was almost sadistic, the way you relished in the slight twitch of his face — the realization that he had been backed into a corner. The silence was deafening as Aaron’s scowl met your smug grin.

“None,” Aaron said finally.

“None,” you repeated, performative shock dripping from your words. “Do you have any academic background in psychology or human behavior, then?”

Aaron’s jaw clenched, and as you made your way closer to the witness stand, you saw his thumb frantically moving back and forth over his fingertips. Clearly, you had struck a nerve. “The FBI has rigorous coursework in order to become a profiler, along with multiple exams and continued training as more research becomes available to us. The profiling classes are no easy feat and are written by experts in the field. Creating profiles has a long and respected history in detective work, and these profilers have caught some of the most prolific serial killers of all time.”

You placed a hand over your chest in faux modesty. “My apologies, Agent Hotchner, I believe I wasn’t very clear. I’m not calling into question the validity and effectiveness of profiles. I’m calling into question the validity and effectiveness of you as a profiler.”

You could practically see the cartoon fire spewing out of Aaron’s ears. He was so close to being in your trap, something he had to have known, too, yet he continued to toe dangerously close to that line.

“A lack of formal education in profiling,” you continued, keeping your voice light, “and the blatant disregard for basic police and legal procedure as shown in this case with my client… I mean, how many other mistakes were made in your past cases? It’s hard to believe that you can read anybody, much less the hardened criminal that you have painted my client to be.”

Checkmate.

“Objection!” cried the prosecutor again. “Your Honor, this is —”

He was cut off by the judge raising her hand. “Sustained. Counselor, I would advise you to tread lightly from here on out.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Withdrawn.” You turned around to make your way back to your table, ignoring Marcus’s look of complete disbelief. Baiting Aaron had been easy, and now all you had to do was wait.

The courtroom was uncomfortably silent for one beat… two beats…

“Not only can I read Mr. Mckenna,” echoed Aaron’s voice, “But I can also read you.”

Once you got back to your desk, you turned around, hands resting on the cool wood of the table top, but you never sat down. Instead, you leaned forward, and arched your eyebrows in a silent challenge — one he was all too eager to pursue.

“The red Harvard Law tag on your briefcase is a perfect match to your lipstick, and you wear the same one every time you go to court. Not because you’re superstitious the way most lawyers are, but because it’s your way of maintaining control in the courtroom, something you’re desperate to keep in every aspect of your life, personal and professional. I would guess that this need goes back to late high school, early college. But you’ve been worried about appearances and how you’re perceived for even longer than that.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. So he thought you were Type A? Anybody could have guessed that by your anything. All they would have to do is look at your color coded case files or your daily schedule, planned down to the minute. You had only been trying to sway the jury when you insinuated that he wasn’t a good profiler, but maybe you were actually starting to believe it yourself.

Except Aaron got a dangerous glint in his eye, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. Clearly, he was playing chess, too, and by the looks of it, he believed he was winning.

“In fact, you’re so worried about losing control, that despite your busy schedule, you refuse to hire a planner for your upcoming wedding.”

That got your attention. The objection that you were about to call died on your lips, and all you could do was stare with poorly hidden shock. Next to you, Marcus turned pale as a ghost.

Aaron, cocky bastard, continued his profile of you, with no clear signs of stopping anytime soon. “You have a tan where your ring usually is, and I know you’ve been wearing it recently as you subconsciously fiddle with where it would be whenever things in court aren’t going your way. Just like you’re doing now. You still have your maiden name, which you plan on giving up when you do get married because not taking his last name would arouse too many questions that you want to avoid. Just another way your concern of appearances is manifested. So you’re engaged.

“I would say congratulations, but it’s not a happy relationship, not on your side, anyway. Younger female professionals will take their rings off in fear of not being taken seriously, but you’re an established and respected lawyer. You needn't worry about that. So if it’s not about you, it’s about the fiance. You don’t want to be associated with him.”

You gripped the edge of the table, too angry to form words. Your nails dug into the varnish, and you were sure that your heavy breathing could be heard from across the room. This dick. This absolute, garbage, piece of shit dick. The worst part was how casual he sounded as he aired all of your dirty laundry for everybody to hear.

“He’s holding you back, in all aspects of life, but mostly intellectually. He doesn’t have a sliver of your capabilities. The two of you are probably high school sweethearts, prom king and queen type, but while you grew up and matured, he never did. He can’t keep up with you. Still acts the same way he did in high school, only now with more access to alcohol and money. Career wise, he doesn’t have much going for him, probably some sports related pipe dream. But you stay with him because you know how to control him and how to use him to your advantage.”

Aaron’s eyes zeroed in on Marcus, and all of the color drained from your face. The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to object, to get the judge involved, anything, before Aaron did any more damage, but you were frozen in your spot. For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly speechless and spiraling out of control.

“That need for control is also why you’re sleeping with your assistant. It’s casual for you, but not for him anymore. You should break that off. That’s nothing new for you, though. In fact, I would bet that if we looked back at all of your affairs since your engagement, we’d find a long string of men and women, all of whom are your subordinates or of lower status than you. It’s a win-win situation — they’re more than eager to have a chance with you, and you get to stay in control. Oh, you’ll stop when you actually get married, but you continue to push that date back, as well. So…”

He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling good about himself, and God, you could kill him. You could reach over the witness box and wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze until his whiskey colored eyes popped out of his smug, beautiful face.

Aaron lifted his chin, eyebrows raised in your direction. “Do you believe in my abilities as a profiler now, Counselor?”

That snapped you back into action. You cleared your throat and unnecessarily smoothed down your skirt in an attempt to regroup your thoughts. “Well, Agent Hotchner, thank you for that little show and tell. It’s clear that you are very passionate about your career. However, just like your profile of my client, you have no evidence for any of your unsubstantiated accusations.”

It was a pathetic attempt at saving face, and Aaron knew it, but it had to be enough for you. You turned your back towards Aaron so that you could face the judge, who, to her credit, had a perfect poker face the whole time. “Your Honor, I move to strike Agent Hotchner’s outburst” — not an outburst, Aaron was too composed to ever have one of those, but he grimaced at the word all the same — “from the record, as no question stands before the witness at this time.”

The judge looked at you dubiously, clearly debating her ruling. There shouldn’t have been any reason to worry, you were legally in the right, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t be on your side. You noticed yourself fiddling with where your engagement ring would usually be, and you cursed yourself under your breath. How could Aaron have possibly known all of that?

“Sustained,” she said finally, “I direct the jury to disregard the witness’s, uh, example when considering the evidence.”

You let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t much of a win — everybody still heard what had happened, it was still in the back of their minds, like the ring of a bell echoing — but at least in regards to the case, you had the legal upper hand.

The judge turned back to you. “Defense, the witness is still yours, if you have any further questions.”

If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have cut your losses, but between your oath to defend your client to the best of your ability and that stupid self assured grin on Aaron’s face, you knew that you really had no choice.

Deep breath in… Slow breath out… You’re at a stalemate now.

“Agent Hotchner,” you said, causing him to perk him up in interest. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting you to continue. “Wouldn’t an ex-lawyer and an FBI agent be familiar with the rules of decorum in a courtroom?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Counselor.”

“Let me rephrase, then. Would you say that you have a history of emotional outbursts and rule breaking in your line of work? And I’ll remind you that you are still under oath.”

Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I wouldn’t. Integrity is one of our core values, and we take that very seriously.”

With shaking hands, Marcus handed you one of the files you’d had him print out on Aaron. “If that’s so, can you explain why, since your promotion to Unit Chief in 2005, you and your team have had seven disciplinary hearings, one of which being an internal investigation into the excessive force used by one of your agents, and another being a congressional hearing?”

A sick sense of satisfaction passed over you when you saw him get visibly shocked, his poker face breaking for the first time that day. If he wanted to go for blood, you could fight back twice as hard. “I’m not at liberty to discuss either of those cases.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, Agent. So between the discrepancies in the profile, your inability to control your temper, and your history of breaking procedure, coupled with the fact that you arrested my client without any warrant by kicking in the door to an innocent civilian’s house, do you really believe that your arrest and the subsequent evidence that came from that arrest was obtained legally? Or do you just not care either way, as long as you’re able to prove that you’re right?”

Right as he opened his mouth to speak, you turned your back on him and started to walk back to your table. Aaron wasn’t even able to get a peep out before you cut him off with a sharp “Question withdrawn. At this time, the defense rests.”

“Our arrest was made on the grounds of—” Aaron tried, and you smirked to yourself. He must have been desperate if he was trying that move twice. You whipped around, gaze steeled.

“I have no further questions, Agent Hotchner,” you repeated, only letting out the slightest hint of amusement. “But thank you for your cooperation with Lady Justice today.”

Aaron’s eyes met yours, and a weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You should have hated him, but something about him had you completely and utterly entranced by him. Maybe it was the novelty of the case. Maybe it was the matching intellects and the fact that he was the only other person who could give you a challenge.

Maybe you just liked the way you got to lose control with him.

As he passed you, his arm brushed yours, and your whole body burned.

“Very cute, Counselor,” he whispered, voice dripping with condescension. “How long did it take you to come up with that little switch up?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you snapped. “I was playing chess, you were playing checkers, and that’s why you lost.”

The rest of the session went on normally, if not a little tense. To your surprise, Aaron hadn’t left immediately after his testimony, and instead took a seat in the section for the public. Good. As soon as courtroom decorum wasn’t a factor, you were sure to give him a piece of your mind.

Court adjourned for the day, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You told Marcus to continue to push for a better plea option as you grabbed your briefcase and stormed out, pushing through the throngs of people until you could see the back of Aaron’s head.

You sped up your steps until you were right behind him, and you grabbed his wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

You pulled Aaron into an empty conference room, hoping to get some privacy before you completely blew your lid. You already had one public humiliation because of him, and you did not need another.

“What is your problem?” you hissed, locking the door behind you. “You had no right to put my personal life on blast like that.”

Aaron placed his hands on his hips, swooping the sides of his suit jacket back, and you had to make a very conscious effort to not stare. “You questioned my profiling abilities, and I proved them.”

“You didn’t prove shit,” you argued, folding your arms across your chest. “Except for the fact that you’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Are you saying that my profile was off? Because if you didn’t want to be caught committing adultery, then you shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”

You gritted your teeth and took a step towards him in a futile attempt to come across as intimidating. Even in your heels, he still seemed to be towering over you. You’d have to level the playing field somehow. You gripped his tie and used it to pull him down so that he was closer to eye level with you. “I don’t need your judgment, Aaron.”

Aaron moved closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His Adam's apple bobbed and it captivated you. “I couldn’t care less about what you do,” he said flippantly. “Matter of fact, I don’t think this fit of anger is even inherently about your little secret coming out. Do you want to know what I think it is?”

“Not at all.”

“I think,” he continued, completely ignoring your protest, “You’re angry because as much as you can dish it out, you can’t take it.”

Your grip on his tie tightened at his words. “Trust me, I can take anything,” you said, voice low and breathy.

Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips — those kissable, red stained lips of yours. You hadn’t had to reapply your lipstick once throughout the day, and he idly wondered just exactly what it would take to muss up that perfect, pouty red lip.

“I also think that for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t have control, and you liked it.” He bent down a little bit more so that his lips brushed against your ear with every word and you could feel his breath run down your spine. “Aren’t you bored of sleeping with boys who are so far beneath you?”

You’re not sure who initiated it, but the next thing you knew, your lips crashed against his, the two of you making out like it was the last kiss either of you were ever going to get. His hands felt impossibly everywhere all at once — gripping your hips, tugging at your hair, and even snaking under your work blouse to palm at your breast. His teeth nipped at the fibres of your lips. With every movement of his hands, little gasps escaped you, and you could feel the curve of his lips curling up into a smirk.

His fingers trailed up the side of your body, past the curve of your neck, and tangled themselves in your hair before yanking it back, exposing the column of your throat. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, nipping at your pulse point.

“Aaron,” you whined, trying to regain the breath he stole from your lungs. You practically melted in his arms, going completely weak at the knees, especially as his tongue trailed across the underside of your jaw. You let his tie fall from your grip, instead bringing your hands up to cup his face to pull him in for another kiss.

His lips set a bruising pace, and it caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach. You had never once been kissed like this, never once felt so all-consumed by a person. Aaron’s cologne surrounded you, making your head spin. Bruises were sure to form from how harshly he was gripping your hips, but you didn’t care. He was addicting, and you wanted more.

Hotch walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, his thigh shoved in between your legs, forcing your skirt to ride up. The position made his arousal obvious as he pressed against you. The way he held you was possessive, primal even, Unconsciously, you ground down on his thigh, hoping for anything to help relieve the ache between your legs.

Unfortunately for you, Aaron caught on to what you were trying to do, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away just far enough to speak. “Look at you,” he whispered, and the raspiness of his voice only served to turn you on even more. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and his thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging at it ever so slightly. His other hand slowly trailed its way up your thigh, nails scratching at your skin. “Skirt hiked up around your waist, desperate to get off. Your little boyfriends aren’t doing it for you anymore?”

He pressed his thigh further into you, ripping an involuntary moan from your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your hips still moving back and forth against him, not caring how needy it made you seem. “I need… I…”

“What? Big, bad lawyer doesn’t have any more smart ass comments?” he cooed sarcastically, pushing your skirt up even higher. He replaced his thigh with his hand, and his fingers ghosted over your covered pussy, teasing you, not giving you nearly enough contact. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. Go ahead, needy girl, if you’re that desperate.” Aaron yanked down your panties in one fell swoop, and you blindly kicked them off to the side. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want this.”

Without any more of a warning, one of his fingers entered you, and you let out a breathy moan that Aaron was sure to have on repeat in his mind for days to come. When the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your brain completely short circuited. You threw your head back as far as you could despite being pressed against the wall as his name clumsily tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pressing you further against the wall. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

Electricity coursed through your veins as he added a second finger, easily finding that spot in you that made you see stars. You rocked your hips back and forth against his hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His lips trailed from your jawline, down your neck, and to your collarbone.

“Look at me,” Aaron ordered, tightening his grip on your chin, and your eyes shot right back open. Instead of the whiskey colored irises you had gotten used to, Aaron’s pupils were so blown that they made his eyes completely black. “I want to see you lose control all over me. Gonna make sure you come harder for me than you have for any of your boy toys.”

That wouldn’t be very difficult. Nobody had ever made you feel the way you did then, Aaron’s fingers buried deep in your cunt and lips exploring every inch of skin he could access. No part of this was for his pleasure — from the curl of his fingers to the slow circles on your clit, it was all expertly calculated to bring you to the edge with as much intensity as possible, and it was all devastatingly effective.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, you would have completely lost your balance. “More, fuck, please.”

“More?” he mumbled against the column of your throat. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Coherent sentences were not an option for you at the moment, not when you were so deliciously overwhelmed with pleasure and with Aaron. Besides, how could you tell him that you wanted him to completely and utterly ruin you? That you wanted him to bend you over the conference table and pound into you until you could barely speak. You wanted Aaron to mark you and send you home to your fiance with reminders of every little thing he did to you for the days to come. You wanted raw and untamed passion. You wanted to be consumed, for him to settle in your lungs like smoke, and haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

You didn’t want nice and calculated the way every other man you’d been with had acted — you wanted Aaron Hotchner to take control.

You couldn't say any of that, so instead, you grabbed his wrist, the one that was holding your chin in place and, without breaking eye contact with him, you guided his hand down until it rested on your throat. “More,” you choked out, giving him an animalistic grin.

That was all it took. Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and desperate and swallowing all of your incoherent moans as his fingers moved harder, faster.

You clung to him like a lifeline as you felt your whole body tense up, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so fucking close and he felt so fucking good and, God, if this is what losing control felt like, then you and Aaron could do this forever and —

His fingers were gone from you, and you clenched around nothing. You cried out in protest, which only seemed to amuse him.

“Oh? Prom queen isn’t used to not getting what she wants?” Keeping his hand on your throat and you pinned against the wall, he made slow, teasing work of his belt buckle.

Your chest rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. “What happened to watching me come undone all over you?” you shot, trying to even out your voice as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. “Did you lose your nerve?”

A dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s still the plan. I just never said where. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me to turn you into a moaning mess on my cock.”

In an attempt to regain some control of the situation, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah? And how do you expect to do that?”

He smirked and released your throat. Wordlessly, he grabbed your wrist, and guided your hand down your body, further and further until you reached your throbbing pussy. He used his hands to press your fingers to your clit, and you whimpered softly. God, you were dripping, and the extra stimulation didn’t help your shaking legs.

“By making you so needy and whiny that by the end of this, you're begging for me,” he hissed, lips brushing the shell of your ear with every word. He moved your fingers so that you were rubbing small, slow circles around your clit, although it wasn’t nearly enough to give any real relief. “Begging for me to come and fuck you over and over and over again. Because you know that your pathetic fiance and your string of affairs have never made you feel like this before.”

Aaron yanked your hand away from your clit and you could sob. You wanted to cum so badly that you could barely put it into words. Still holding your wrist, Aaron brought your hand up to his face. He took a brief moment to admire the way your fingers glistened, covered in your arousal, before bringing them to his lips and sucking.

Eyes wide, you made a choked noise as you committed the view of Aaron to memory. “Please, Aaron, fuck, I need you,” you whined, the start of a long string of incoherent begging. You needed him then and there, damn the consequences.

He pulled your fingers out of his mouth slowly, and you moaned at the obscene wet noise it made. “So desperate,” he murmured as he began to unbutton his slacks. “All for me. All because I edged you once.”

Aaron pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his dick, and you licked your lips involuntarily when you saw it, big and thick and leaking precum. Clearly, it gave Aaron a bit of an ego boost, because as he ran the head up and down your sensitive folds, he reminded you, “You did say you could take anything, Princess.”

Your breathing came out shaking as you shivered, waiting for him to do something — anything. You were so empty and you needed him so badly. If you didn’t get his dick in you soon, you were pretty sure you would lose your mind completely.

“Fuck me, Aaron,” you moaned, arching your back to press into him more.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips in an almost intimate gesture. “Patience is a virtue,” he chastised.

In your haze of arousal, you barely noticed him grabbing your briefcase and digging through the small pocket in the front. You especially didn’t notice his pause when his finger touched something small, round, and metal in the bottom of the bag. The only thing you cared about was him coming back to you, holding up a condom packet with a smirk.

“I knew I’d find one somewhere in your briefcase.” You let the comment slide, the excitement at the prospect of sex with Aaron Hotchner outweighing any jackass comment he could make. Aaron made quick work of putting on the condom. The second he was done, one of his hands ran up your thigh, getting a good grip on it before pulling it up and around his waist.

“Do you feel how wet you are for me? How willing you were to give up control? All for me? That—” Lips pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock into you, bottoming out with one thrust. You threw your head back in pleasure. “—Is playing chess, sweetheart.”

Aaron dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck as he began pounding into you at a desperate pace. He had held off on his own pleasure for long enough, and now he was chasing his orgasm with a ruthless determination. One hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other one braced against the wall next to your head. Aaron nipped at your neck in between moans of praise for you.

“I — oh, fuck — knew it,” he groaned, digging his fingers deeper into your thigh. “You wanted somebody to take control. Somebody who knows how to please you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You were an incoherent mess at this point, his name tumbling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. At that moment, it probably was.

“Finally, that bratty mouth of yours is good for something. You sound so pretty, moaning out my name. Say it again.” A particularly deep thrust caused you to tug at his hair. “Louder.”

Never before had you met somebody like Aaron Hotchner, and you weren’t sure if you ever would again, so you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself get lost in the absolute pleasure he was providing. You memorized everything you could — the way the calluses on his hands felt against your skin, the way he moaned out your name, how deliciously full you felt, and how for the first time in your life you felt truly seen — so that you could suspend the moment in amber to preserve in the back of your mind.

“Please,” you begged, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails. “I’m so close. Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good, please.”

Aaron tore his lips from your throat, choosing instead to press his forehead against yours. His lips brushed yours with every word he spoke, so close that you were practically kissing him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured. “Be a good girl. Be a good girl and come. All over my dick.”

When you came, it was with a cry of his name as your whole body shuddered. You clung to him as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts began to stutter, and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in one last, scorching kiss, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You think he moaned something as he came, but you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He fucked you through his orgasm, making sure that you felt every single inch of him. As if you could ever forget it.

The two of you stayed where you were for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of being full a little longer. Your walls fluttered around Aaron, which caused him to muffle his whimpers into your throat.

“Aaron…” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment. “That was so—”

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know.” He pulled back just enough to leave a lingering kiss on your lips, and your whole body burned. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” The confession lingered in the hair for a tense second because both of you seemed to remember where you were.

Aaron slowly pulled out of you, an act that looked almost painful for him when you let out an involuntary moan at the feeling. He could have spent all day in you, if given the chance.

The two of you adjusted yourselves in silence, both of you hoping to be able to leave the room with some semblance of professionalism. At the very least, the goal was to not look like you had just had sex in a courthouse conference room. Shame and embarrassment flooded you — what had you been thinking?

Once you felt that you were presentable enough, you grabbed your briefcase and tried to ignore Aaron burning a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.

“Well, Aaron, this was fun.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around at some point.”

You were two steps away from the door when you heard his smug, courthouse voice come back in full swing.

“Forgetting something?”

You turned around in a huff, ready to go right back to arguing with him, but what you saw made your whole body heat up in embarrassment. There was Aaron with a self-satisfied grin and dangling off his finger was your panties.

“These are cute,” he mused. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to fully appreciate them.”

You rushed over there, fully prepared to snatch them out of his hand. “And you never will,” you shot, but even as you said it, you didn’t make much of an effort to take them out of his hands. You just stared at him and his swollen lips and mussed hair, all your doing.

Ever the gentleman, Aaron started to hand your underwear back to you, but instead of taking it back like you knew you should have done, you covered his hand with yours, closing it in a fist around your panties.

“Who says you can’t?” you whispered, guiding his pantie-filled hand down to his pockets. “This way… You can keep it as collateral. To make sure I’ll come and see you again.”

His breath hitched in his throat as you guided him to put your panties into his suit pocket, and you were glad to be the one surprising him this time.

“I don’t care about your fiance,” Aaron started, and you braced yourself for the worse. “But I’m not interested in being the ‘other man’ to your affairs with your assistants, too.”

“Consider it ended,” you promised, not caring how desperate or easy it made you look. You wanted to keep Aaron around for a long, long time.

Just until the wedding, you corrected yourself.

You slung your briefcase over your shoulder, wincing as it dug into a bruise that Aaron had left. It would be there for a while — you’d have to find a way to hide it from Tony until it faded. The thought made you stupidly giddy. “I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

He nodded in goodbye, and you slipped out of the conference room on shaking legs. As soon as the door closed behind you, you reached into your bag, and reluctantly slipped on your engagement ring.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #my writing #criminal minds

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uncpanda · 4 years ago

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Small town Moose: Part 1

Prompt: When your best friend convinces you to move to DC with her, you’re more than a little lonely. You’re used to life in a small town, not a big city. For the first time in your life you’re mostly alone with your only company being your dog Moose. Then you meet a single dad and his son, and you realize maybe you’re not so alone?

AN: After watching the show, I noticed that Hotch is fairly open outside of work, he’s not as serious and he smiles more. This is taking place about two years after Haley’s death, Jack is six. Reader is around 25-28 I rewrote this thing about six times, hopefully y’all will like it.

“Can I pet your puppy?”

You look up from your book to see a little boy smiling at you. He’s the first friendly face you’ve seen in the two weeks since you’ve moved to DC. “Of course, Moose loves attention.”

The boy giggles at the name, “He’s not a moose.”

“No, but when he was little he had these long legs and big paws, and he just reminded me of a moose.” He laughs at that explanation and moves in to pet your dog. He’s extremely gentle for a child, and Moose, the attention whore that he is, eats up every moment of it.

“He’s really fluffy.”

You smile, and lower your voice as though you’re going to tell him a secret, “You know what Moose loves more than anything in the world?”

“What?”

“Treats.”

At the word your goofy dog becomes fully alert, and starts to do a full body shimmy. The boy laughs again and you pull out one of Moose's treats. “Do you want to give it to him?”

He nods and you give him instructions on how to give it. You watch as the boy does exactly as instructed, it’s the best moment you’ve had in weeks.

“Jack!”

Your head snaps up at the sound of a frantic voice. The boy smiles and waves his hand, “Hi daddy.”

The man comes towards the two of you at a full run, and when he reaches you he immediately starts checking the boy over for any injuries. When he seems satisfied that the boy is safe, he pulls him into a hug. “You can’t walk away like that buddy. You scared me.”

“I saw a puppy.”

The man’s eyes close and lets out a gentle laugh, “Just let me know next time, and we’ll go see the puppy together.”

The boy, Jack, nodds, and very excitedly starts telling his dad all about Moose. The man listens with rapt attention and when Jack is done he turns to you and his dad and asks, “Can I play with Moose?”

You can tell his dad is struggling with what to say, so you step in, “As long as it’s okay with your dad, I don’t mind.”

The man looks at you and you reassure him, “Moose is very gentle, he has all his shots, and honestly if your son doesn’t mind tiring him out some more I won’t object.”

The man smiles, “Sounds good to me.”

Jack and Moose can’t go too far. You have a long lead for him but not long enough for him to leave your sight. The man settles on the bench next to you, “Thank you for watching him until I found him. I took a phone call, I looked away for a second . . . it was stupid.”

You shake your head, “Sounds human to me, and to be honest I didn’t even think about his lack of guardian. He was so excited about Moose, it was really cute.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, and then he smiles, “In my not so humble opinion, Jack is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”

You laugh at that show of fatherly pride, but you can’t help but agree. You hold out your hand and introduce yourself, “I’m Y/F/N Lance. It’s nice to meet you.”

He takes your hand, it’s nice and warm, and sends the smallest tingle through you, “Aaron Hotchner.”

The two of you watch Moose and Jack play for a minute before he asks, “Are you from around here?”

“Just moved here two weeks ago, under protest.”

“Military?”

You shake your head, “No. I do website design and some photography on the side. I moved here at the request of my best friend. She got a new job here, and needed a roommate. She didn’t like the idea of rooming with someone she didn’t know, so she hounded me until I said yes.”

“That sounds . . .”

“Like torture? No. She means well, and to be honest it’s probably good to get away.”

“You don’t sound like you believe that.”

You laugh, “Is this an interrogation?”

His lips quirk and he shakes his head, “Not at all. It’s a side effect of the job I suppose.”

“Cop?”

“Something like that.”

Before the conversation can go any further, Moose and Jack are back. Your dog, ever the dramatic, makes a scene out of lying down on his side and panting. Jack is quick to follow his lead, and climbs into Aaron’s arms.

You watch as he adjusts the boy, and stands up, “Well, it looks like you have a tired dog and I have a tired kid. I’d say with the exception of a close heart attack, this was a successful outing.”

You smile and nod, while pouring some water into Moose’s collapsible dish. “It was nice meeting you Aaron. And it was wonderful meeting you Jack.”

The boy smiles and buries his head in his father’s neck. And it’s with a little bit of sadness that you watch them go. You give Moose a few minutes to get ready to walk again. The walk back to your apartment building is less than a mile, but it’s not like you have anywhere to be; you’d finished unpacking everything within three days, your home office was set up, and you’d started getting Moose’s new schedule under control.

You pick up pizza, wings, and anything else that you’re craving. The leftovers will mean no cooking for a few days, and that honestly sounds like heaven. The pizza place is less than a block from your place and you make it home in record time.

You’re just walking into the lobby when you bump into someone. You apologize as you regain your footing and look up into a familiar set of eyes. Aaron is quick to steady you, and ask, “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I feel stupid for trying to manuver a dog and food at the same time, but I’m fine.”

He smiles, “You live in this building?”

You nod, and give him your apartment number, he laughs, “That’s right next to Jack and me.”

This time you laugh with him, “Here, let me help you with that.” Before you can protest he’s taken the majority of the food out of your arms, and all you can say is thank you.

“It’s really not a problem. We’re going in the same direction.”

The elevator ride is silent for a minute before he says, “Jack is going to be ecstatic that Moose lives next door.” Moose wags his tail at the mention of his name, “He’s all Jack could talk about on the way home. He told Jessica all about him on the phone.”

“His mom?”

“Aunt. His mother passed away about two years ago.”

There's sadness in his voice, but you don’t say you’re sorry. You’d always hated those words in times of grief, “It’s never easy to lose a loved one.”

“No, it’s not.”

There’s another moment of silence before you get the nerve to ask, “Have you an Jack eaten yet?”

“What?”

“I ordered too much food. That should teach me to order before I’m starving. So if you and Jack haven’t eaten yet, why don’t you guys come over.”

You watch him consider it for a moment, before he agrees, “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

You drop Moose’s leash when the elevator doors open, and he goes straight for the apartment door. “We’ll be over in about five minutes, is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

Sure enough, five minutes later, right on the dot, there’s a knock on the door. On the other side is a very excited Jack, and an amused looking Aaron. The boy breaks out of his father’s hold and makes a mad dash for Moose. A second later he’s curled up on the dog bed too.

Aaron looks flummoxed, and you reassure him, “I just washed the dog bed if that’s any comfort.”

“It is, but I think I may have been replaced by a dog.”

Jack has no interest in food at the moment, instead he’s telling Moose about everything he knows. So you and Aaron eat together, “How long ago did you move in again?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“And you’re all unpacked and everything. I had boxes around my place for months.”

It was something to do in between work times. The two of you fall into an easy conversation. You talk about your small hometown, he tells you about his life. He’s quick to explain that he travels a lot for work, and his sister-in-law helps care for Jack. Jack eventually eats, before going back to lay next to Moose. It’s nearing ten o’clock when you both notice the time. Jack is conked out, one arm wrapped around Moose, while one of your dog’s paws rest on Jack.

You bring a finger to your lips to signal for silence, and sneak back to your office. You grab your camera, and take several shots. When you’re satisfied you turn back to Aaron and say, “I’ll send them to you, but it was too cute a moment to pass up on.” He just smiles, and you can’t help but think that maybe you’re not as alone as you originally thought.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #jack hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #goldendoodle #bau

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tillidontneedfantasy · 4 years ago

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A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’

“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!

If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,

“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”

This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.

The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.

1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”

2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”

3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”

4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”

5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”

6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”

7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”

8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”

9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”

11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”

12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”

13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”

14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”

15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”

16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”

17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”

In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch.

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babymetaldoll · 4 years ago

Text

DIWK - Chapter nine: “Fuck it, I love you”

Word count: 8,2K

Summary: (Y/N) is struggling with her feelings for Spencer, and being just her friend might be harder than she thought. Spencer feels everybody but (Y/N) knows he is in love with her, and for a second, he is sure he will lose her.

Warnings: Cursing, angst frustration, mention of S03E09 (Penelope), usual Criminal Minds content.

A/N: Hello my dearest friends! hope you are having a great week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. All feedback is welcome!

Masterlist

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Since Rossi joined the team, we were as busy as we had been in a long time. We didn't have much free time, and most of the cases took us out of Virginia. But, it was our job, and we all liked it, which is why none of us complained much. No one but JJ, who still tried to keep her relationship with Will a secret.

On the bright side, all that traveling and working with the team got us even closer. Having Rossi there gave us a boost to be better at what we did and be even better friends. We had to spend a lot of time together, and by the look in David's eyes, you could tell he was surprised by how good we all got along. At least most of the time.

We were in Florida trying to find an unsub who kidnapped and mutilated women when it happened. After knowing them for over two years, Garcia and Morgan had a fight. A real fight.

- "Hey, how is it going with Father Marks? Any of the volunteers jumped out at him?"- I asked Morgan when I found him at the station after a long day trying to find a lead that might take us to the unsub or the victims.

- "Not yet"- my cellphone rang that second, and Garcia's voice at the other side of the line gave me more info on the case.

- "I'm still running the particulars of our homicides though vicap. Nothing so far."- she announced.

- "Ok. I just sent you the volunteer search list"- I walked from Morgan and sipped my coffee, feeling there was something off.

- "Ok. And I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."

- "Pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. Rossi is convinced our unsub is the type that likes to stick close to home."

- "Got it. Talk to you later."

- "Wait, PG. You usually call Morgan about these kinds of things. Is everything ok?"- I whispered though I knew Morgan was paying a lot of attention to what I was talking about on the phone with Garcia.

- "God, I hate profilers"- she groaned at the other side of the line.

- "Come on, tell me."

- "Fine. I met this guy in the coffee shop I go to every day. His computer crashed, and I helped him fix it. He flirted, I flirted, and he asked for my number, and somehow I gave it to him 'cos he was incredibly hot and nice, and did I mention he was smoking hot? I didn't think he was going to call, but he did, which was surprising 'cos these things do not happen to me, sweet cheeks, never! But it did! And when I told Derek, he just told me I have to blow him off 'cos it's too weird."

- "What!?"- Penelope spoke so fast she didn't even breathe.

- "Yes! Just because he wouldn't hit on me doesn't mean another hot guy wouldn't! And he made me feel like I don't deserve anyone's attention."

- "I'm gonna kill him,"- I whispered and turned around. Derek wide opened his eyes and shrugged, not getting what was going on.

- "Don't. I'll take care of him when you guys come home."

- "Well, take care in the mid-time, and I'm here if you need to talk."

I hung down and sighed. Morgan looked at me, knowing I knew what happened between the two of them.

- "So?"

- "You fucked it up,"- I whispered and smacked his shoulder.

- "Is she furious?"

- "She's hurt. That's actually worse."- Derek sighed and shook his head.

- "What do I do?"

- "You mean, other than to apologize?"- I walked with him to get Hotch and tell him what Garcia had just informed us- "Think big, 'cos you really fucked it up."

- "What does Reid do when he fucks things up with you?"- Morgan asked, and I could sense the innuendo hidden in his words.

- "He doesn't do a thing, 'cos he never fucks up"- I answered with a pleased smile and turned to Hotch. It was time to catch a killer, not time to argue with Derek.

I always thought Morgan and Garcia were the greatest friends I had ever met. I could envy their relationship, especially 'cos they could be so flirtatious and so adorable, and at the same time, you knew their friendship was sacred.

I envied that. I don't think Penelope felt for Derek the way I felt about Spencer. That's why I was sure I had fucked it up. I didn't have to catch those kinds of feelings for my best friend, and I felt I had to find a way to get rid of them. I had to stop having a crush on Reid.

Those weeks had been challenging and yet amazing. It was awful knowing I had a crush on my best friend, but I was really enjoying all the time we were spending together. We had been sharing rooms for the last two cases, and that meant endless sleepovers with Spencer. After a long day, we would meet in our room and just share candies, ice cream, pizza, movies, whatever we needed to decompress.

If things had been too hard, I would lay with him on his bed and just cuddle for a while before going back to my bed. More than once, I fell asleep with him, feeling his fingers playing with my hair as he read. I always apologized the following day, but Spencer kept saying he didn't bother, that he had slept well and that I could always count on him whenever I felt bad.

Knowing I had never done that with Mikey or Frank more than a handful of times in all the years we had met each other made me feel like the shit. Sure, I could sleep in the same bed with them, but not the way I did with Spencer. This felt intimate. Serious. Real. Waking up in Spencer's arms was the best way to start my day, and each time it happened, it made me feel worst and worst 'cos I didn't want to ruin the best friendship I ever had over a silly, stupid, meaningless crush.

Each time it happened, I promised myself it would be the last one. And each time I did, I ended up falling into his arms again. It never meant anything sexual. It was just sharing a bed, cuddling. Holding each other. It was all the intimacy I always refused to share with other people. And I guess that's what freaked me out the most: how vulnerable I was with Reid and how much I enjoyed it for the very first time. Ever.

- "Hey,"- I heard Spencer whisper when we landed. I was curled up on his chest on the couch on the plane, as usual after a long case. I scratched my eyes, probably messing with my makeup, and smiled at him.

- "Sorry... you must have been awfully uncomfortable."

- "Not really. Besides, you looked like you needed a good nap,"- I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down correctly.

- "Next time I drool on your jacket, please wake me up,"- I collected all my things and took a look around- "What time is it?"

- "Almost midnight,"- he announced and stared at me as he held his go bag and put on his jacket- "Do you want to grab something to eat before you go home?"- and I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I had in mind.

But life had other plans, and this time it had nothing to do with us. We were about to get out of my car to catch a late dinner when I got a call from Hotch telling me Penelope was in the local hospital. Spencer's cell phone rang at the same time, and JJ announced the same. We looked at each other for a moment, scared of the worst, and all we managed to do was to get buckled up and drive to the hospital. We both needed to know Penelope would be ok, but all we knew was that she had been shot, and the doctors were doing all they could to save her life.

As soon as we reached the waiting area, we met Aaron and JJ. They looked as worried as we were.

- "She's in surgery,"- JJ announced, and I hugged her immediately- "There's no word."

- "This is crazy,"- Spencer whispered as I felt JJ's arms tighten around me.

- "I can't believe it! I talked to her before we took off."- I murmured and closed my eyes.

- "What do we know?"- Rossi asked, walking over in a hurry with Prentiss.

- "Police think it's a botched robbery,"- Aaron explained.

- "Where's Morgan?"- Emily asked, looking around the hall.

- "He's not answering his cell,"- JJ replied, and Spencer took his phone right away.

- "I'll call him again."

I looked at him as he walked away and turned to my friends. Emily and JJ were doing their best to stay strong, but it was clear they were fighting the tears back, just as badly as I was doing.

Spencer walked back and shook his head. He couldn't reach Morgan. I walked to him and rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. It was unreal. I felt I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up, no matter how much I tried.

- "They can't give me an update,"- JJ walked over to us after half an hour. She had been trying to get more info about Penelope's condition, but nothing.

- "Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,"- Spencer added, and Prentiss's angry voice nearly made me jump.

- "Where the hell is he?!"

Nearly two hours later, Spencer finally contacted Derek, and in less than half an hour, he rushed into the hospital and found us still waiting for news about Penelope. He ran over, shocked and confused, and looked at us, waiting for an explanation.

- "She's been in surgery a couple of hours."- JJ whispered as soon as he stood by our side.

- "I was at church. My phone was off,"- he explained and mostly tried to excuse himself for not being there earlier.

- "There is nothing you could have been doing here,"- Reid whispered, trying to make him feel better. Spoiler: it didn't work. Morgan was getting more and more hyperventilated with every second he spent in that hospital.

- "The police got any leads?"

- "I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."

Hotch spoke in the calmest voice he had. Morgan was about to say something but bit his tongue. Instead of yelling, he walked around the hall for a few minutes until a doctor approached us.

- "Penelope Garcia?"- and we all nearly yelled "Yes" as a desperate reply.

- "The bullet went into her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."

- "So what are you saying?"- JJ questioned as we all held our breath.

- "One centimeter over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle."

The way we all sighed, relieved at those words, was priceless and unbeatable. The doctor smiled at us and added.

- "She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning."

- "Thank you,"- I smiled at him, and he was gone. I turned around and looked at Reid. He cut me a short smile as Hotch's voice caught our attention.

- "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

We all nodded right away. No one had other plans. And after those words, Hotch and Rossi were out of the hospital, and we were left waiting for Penelope to come back from surgery.

- "How are you?"- Reid whispered and handed me a new cup of coffee.

- "Scared. You?"

- "Me too"

- "Who could ever want to hurt Penny? She is adorable,"- I murmured and shook my head.

- "We are gonna find whoever did this"- Spencer held my hand and cut me the warmest smile. I nodded and looked at Derek, who stood up from his chair for the hundredth time and walked to Penelope's room to see if she was ok.

- "In case we ever fight, I want you to know I will always forgive you,"- I murmured in Spencer's ear and rested my head on his shoulder.

- "Should I be worried?"- he asked me, and I just shook my head.

- "I just wanted you to know that you will always be my best friend, Spencer Walter Reid. No matter what happens between us."

And I meant every word back then. I had no idea what was coming ahead and how much things would change within a few months.

Spencer's point of view

The attack against Penelope hit us all hard. She had been shot by the same man who had invited her out for dinner. The one she and Derek had had a fight about.

Of course, Morgan was the one who was more affected by the whole situation. I tried to comfort him, and he nearly killed me. I knew Derek didn't mean to be mean. He was just losing it and feeling overwhelmingly guilty about everything going on. He was in hell, and you could tell. I didn't want to think what it would be like to be in his place. If anything ever happened to (Y/N) and I wasn't there to help her, I would go crazy. So I understood how Derek felt and did my best to be supportive.

Those days also made it pretty evident Rossi was still shocked we were such close friends and team members at the same time. I know he was friends with Gideon, but the fact our friendship surprised him so much made me wonder how close they really were.

It didn't get better when we were all asked to stop working on the case after Hotch found an encrypted file in Garcia's system, and she ended up suspended. That's who we found out how the FBI had recruited her.

Morgan and I were at the hospital with Penelope when Hotch gave her the news and heard the story of her hackers days. Something that I bet she didn't really want us to know about her.

- "After my parents died, I... kind of went off the rails for a while. I dropped out of Cal Tech. I lived underground, basically. But I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. In the way, the bureau decided to keep an eye on me, I guess... Did you know they keep track of hackers?"

Neither Morgan nor I opened our mouths. We couldn't, 'cos we were processing the whole information.

- "They do, of the ones who have the skill to be either extremely useful or a potential menace."

- "So they offered you a job?"- I asked her, and she simply nodded- "Like Frank Abagnale. The bureau figured if you can't beat 'em, hire 'em."

- "Yeah. Something like that."

- "Garcia, what's on the encrypted file?"- Derek crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her, waiting to hear nothing but the truth.

- "I'm required to keep a record of everything the team does. And after my system got hacked and Elle got shot, I just didn't want anyone else to be able to get at you."

- "We'll talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear you to leave,"- I whispered and left the room, just in time to get JJ's call to announce we were officially off the case. It wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better at all.

In a way, the fact we were all such good friends wasn't as beneficial to the case as it could be. It all came clear later that night. Penelope was attacked again, this time in her own house. Unfortunately, a cop was killed in the process, and if it weren't for Morgan, who insisted on crashing her couch that night, Penelope would have been dead too.

We were all at her house at three in the morning. We wanted to take her to the BAU and keep her safe, though we all knew it would be hard to explain to the authorities, all things considered. We were all just talking about what had just happened when Garcia started remembering more details about her date with her attacker, and we decided to ask more questions about it in case she could give us more info that might lead us to him.

- "Tell us about the car,"- I told her and sat in front of her.

- "Why?"

- "Just go with him"- Morgan smiled at her and nodded, trying to reassure her everything was ok. It wasn't, not even close.

- "You said it was white, 4-door, American. What else?"- I asked Penelope, but she shook her head, confused.

- "That's it. It was just a car."

- "No, come on, think. Anything. Go back."- Morgan held her hand. We could tell she was trying her best to cooperate, and he was making his best effort to be sweet and calm, considering he was losing it to catch the asshole who hurt her.

- "The seat belt was buckled behind his back. Why does that matter?"- and that was progress.

- "It wasn't a rental. It was for surveillance,"- Derek explained to her.

- "Agents don't wear seat belts. They need to get out in a hurry"- (Y/N) added and was about to add something else when Rossi walked across the room and sat in front of Penelope.

- "All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now!"- she wide opened her eyes in shock and turned to Morgan- "Look at me, not them!"- Rossi commanded.

- "I'm not hiding anything,"- Garcia whispered, astonished.

- "You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,"- she tried to look at Derek again- "Eyes here!"

- "Ease up, Rossi!"- Morgan shouted when David raised his voice, scaring everybody in that room.

- "You got a roomful of people here willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about!"

Rossi yelled on her face, pushing her to tell the truth, and Garcia nearly started crying.

- "What?"

- "Come on, man!"- I guess we were all waiting for Derek to lose it and punch him.

- "It's nothing bad!"- Penelope yelled, and every eye in the room turned to her.

- "Spit it out!"- David pushed her again.

- "It's... I counsel victims' families, and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."

- "What does that mean?"- Rossi frowned and kept his eyes on hers.

- "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority."

- "You're not authorized to do that"- Hotch's voice was as severe as kind, which surprised us all. Rossi the most, I guess, 'cos he stood up and turned around.

- "I know. I was just trying to help."- Garcia whispered, fighting the tears back.

- "But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them,"- (Y/N) said in a softer voice, probably to explain to Garcia how the whole situation had ended up with her being shot.

- "I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide,"- Penelope excused herself.

- "How many cases are we talking about?"- Hotch asked.

- "I don't know. 7, 8 maybe. I need to get into my system."

- "You can't. You're suspended,"- Hotch reminded her, though it sounded more like "you are grounded."

- "Wait a minute,"- Morgan interrupted the conversation- "Garcia, on your date, you said this guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."

Hotch looked at David, who was still as pissed as earlier. I don't think neither of us had ever seen him acting like it.

- "I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us,"- Rossi said to him, and Aaron nodded.

- "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, (Y/N), Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."

We all stayed in her living room as Garcia walked to her room and hacked her own system. At the other side of the screen, Kevin Lynch, the analyst of another FBI department, was fighting back, trying to protect the files, and losing the fight after a few minutes.

Later on, (Y/N) explained to me that was how they met and finally how they fell in love. I guess everything happens for a reason, after all.

We didn't catch the bad guy that day. Instead, JJ was forced to kill him. It was the very first time she shot anyone, and surprisingly, she wasn't as shook up as we all imagined she might be.

- "You do whatever it takes to protect your family,"- she said when Penelope asked her if she was ok.

And she was right. That's how we all felt for each other at that point. And somehow, we all knew we were going to prove it, sooner or later.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I had been part of the BAU for almost three years already when it happened. And I felt so stupid 'cos we had all had a rough couple of weeks, and the last thing anyone needed was another worry. We had just gotten over the whole Penelope issue; having another member of the team injured was the worst thing that could happen.

But it did.

I got shot.

We were after our unsub. George Flemming. The bastard had killed four women in less than a month, convinced God had sent him to Earth to get rid of sin. We had been after him for two whole weeks until we finally got him. But I was stupid and reckless and didn't wait for backups. I wanted to catch that mother fucker, 'cos the way he had killed those women made me madder than I had ever been with an unsub before. That's too dangerous. You can't lose yourself in a case, 'cos you lose your objectivity. You risk your life every day in this job, but that specific day, I put mine on a silver platter.

We were supposed to wait for backup. I was just checking the perimeter, searching for the unsub. Spencer was with me, but he stayed behind for a second, trying to contact Garcia to run the plate number of a car we found hidden in a barn. I should have waited for him, but I couldn't stay still and do nothing when I heard a woman screaming for help. I had to run and try to save her. I wasn't going to let George kill yet another innocent woman and get away with it. He had to pay.

- "FBI! Freeze!"- I shouted as I walked into the last room of the house and found George holding close and pointing a gun at a woman who was covered in blood and bruises but still very much alive. Which, I must say, was a relief.

- "Stay away!! I'll shoot her!! I swear I'm gonna shoot her!!"

The unsub was sweating cold; he looked sick and weak. He looked like I could definitely take him down in a fight.

- "George! Put down the gun!"- I commanded and didn't move my eyes from him.

- "You put your gun down!"

- "I am sorry, George, but I can't do that!"- I answered- "Now let her go and put the gun down before anyone else gets hurt."

- "I don't have to listen to a whore like you! Who do you think you are? Giving me commands? You are evil!! Evil!"- he shouted, clearly losing control.

- "(Y/N), where the hell are you?!"- I heard Reid asking in the earpiece, and I just shook my head.

- "That's all you've got, George? Hiding women in the back of your house and threatening them with your gun? That makes your God proud?"

- "Shut up!! You bring disgrace to Earth! You should be punished too!!"- I took a step closer slowly and shook my head.

- "You are going to be punished, George. For killing innocent women."

- "Innocent? What makes you think they didn't deserve it?"

- "What makes you think you are the one to judge them?"

I kept my gun pointed at him, but I couldn't take a shot 'cos he grabbed the victim and kept her close to him, like a shield.

- "There's a special place in hell for whores like you!"- he announced, and suddenly, all I could feel was pain. There was a second gunshot, and George was down. I took a look around and saw Morgan still pointing his gun at him from outside the room, as Spencer and Prentiss ran inside, and he moved to me and held me close.

- "Medic!! We need a medic!!"- Reid yelled frantically through the speaker- "(Y/N)! How do you feel?"

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- I whispered in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my entire life- He just shot my shoulder, nothing important.

But the way Spencer looked at me, I swear that no one has ever looked at me the same until this day.

- "Don't move!"- he commanded, though his voice was soft and gentle. Prentiss took care of checking George's body. He was clearly dead. She liberated his last hostage and helped her to the ambulance while Reid stayed by my side until a doctor appeared.

- "Why didn't you wait for me?"- Spencer asked as they took me to the ambulance.

- "She needed help"- that was all I could say.

- "Please, try not to talk,"- the paramedic commanded and got me into the ambulance, followed closely by Reid.

- "I'm coming with her."

My best friend wasn't asking for permission. He was informing the medical team he wasn't going anywhere else. And by the tone of his voice, it was clear no one was ever going to change his mind.

- "That was so stupid, chipmunk,"- Spencer whispered and held my hand in our way to the nearest hospital. The paramedics kept pressing my shoulder to stop the bleeding, and I just closed my eyes 'cos honestly, it hurt too much to process what was going on.

- "I am so sorry I wasn't there with you, chipmunk."

- "It's ok, honey,"- I mumbled- "You are right. I was stupid. This is my fault."

- "Please, don't talk,"- the paramedic commanded again, and I just shut up 'cos the pain was too much.

Spencer stayed by my side the whole time. After we reached the hospital, the paramedics took me to the ER, where a doctor cleaned my wound and took out the bullet from my shoulder.

It was a clean wound, and luckily, no arteries were hit. I just got some stitches and a sling, plus a few painkillers I really didn't want to take, 'cos after Spencer's experience with drugs, I was scared of painkillers.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered to the nurse who helped me get dressed and walked out of the room to find Spencer filling up the medical forms and Morgan and Prentiss waiting for me

- "How are you feeling, princess?"- Derek asked and caressed my cheek.

- "Like a virgin"- I sang the Madonna song- "Shot for the very first time"- and though Emily chuckled, Spencer didn't think it was funny.

- "I can't believe you think this is something to joke about!"- Reid frowned, upset.

- "Calm down, honey. I'm ok, I'm alive. It was just a shot on the shoulder."

- "Just? Just a shot in the shoulder?"- and Spencer freaked out- "Did you know some of the larger vessels of the human body run through the shoulder? The subclavian artery and vein, which by the way, are the basic blood supply to the upper extremity."

- "I'm sorry, honey bunny. I shouldn't have said that."- I whispered and tried to calm him down, 'cos I knew precisely the kind of man Spencer could be when he was mad and stressed.

- "The brachial plexus is also located in the shoulder, and it's the primary nerve supply to the upper extremity as well,"- he added and didn't take his eyes from the form he was filling.

- "I understand,"- I added, but he didn't stop.

- "You should also know that the shoulder is a very complex spheroid joint, and if it's injured, it can lead to lifelong disability."

I stood in front of Spencer and placed my movable hand on his chest. That forced him to stop writing and look at me.

- "I'm sorry I got hurt. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to make you mad at me or worry. I am ok, I am here, and I promise I won't do something as stupid and reckless as this ever again. Ok?"

Spencer looked at me and sighed. Morgan and Prentiss were still there by our side, and I had the feeling that stopped my friend from saying what was in his mind. Instead, he nodded and cut me a short smile.

- "Good. Can we go home now?"- I asked, and Morgan grabbed my bag immediately.

- "The jet is waiting, pretty girl. Let's go."

The flight back home was too long. It was only a four hours flight from Fargo to Quantico. But it felt eternal. Besides, I kept doing my best to act cool and in zero pain, in a poor attempt not to worry Spencer. Little did I know, no matter what, he would be worried sick anyway.

- "I was on the phone with Frank,"- he announced and sat in front of me with a cup of hot chocolate.

- "Please don't tell me you called to tell him I got shot,"- Spencer stared at me and cut me a short smile. I closed my eyes and groaned- "Did he go nuts?"

- "No, I started by telling him you were alright."

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sipped the cup he had prepared for me just the way I liked it, even with the little marshmallows.

- "Your mom went bonkers, though."

- "You called my mom?!"- I shouted, and everybody in the team turned around and looked at us- "Why did you do that?"- Spencer looked at me surprised and frowned.

- "You just got shot, chipmunk. Of course, I'm gonna tell your mom!"

- "But she is going to overreact!"

- "She won't! We already talked. She said she'd stop tomorrow by your apartment to have lunch."

- "Tomorrow, I'll be at work for lunch,"- I frowned, and I swear I wanted to cross my arms on my chest, but I couldn't, 'cos... I have been shot.

- "You won't be back to work until next week,"- Aaron announced from his seat, overhearing the conversation.

- "But Hotch! I'm ok!"

- "Spencer is correct. You just got shot. Take the rest of the week,"- I groaned and frowned at my boss.

- "I can still do my paperwork."- I can't believe I was begging not to get days off from work.

- "You do realize most people don't argue when their bosses give them a few days off, right princess?"- Derek took off his headphones and asked, frowning.

- "But I'm not injured,"- I argued, but I knew I was losing that fight.

- "Chipmunk, may I remind you, you just got shot!"- Spencer looked at me, annoyed.

- "But I'm fine! Look at me! I can dance!"- I was about to stand up and do a little dance, but Reid stopped me. He literally grabbed my good arm and kept me on my seat.

- "It's Wednesday. You just have to stay home Thursday and Friday. And I'll be there, making sure you won't do anything stupid."

I looked at Spencer and groaned one more time.

- "There's no way out of this, (Y/N). You are hurt, and I'm gonna take care of you."

- "Will you cook?"- I whispered and pouted, defeated. And Spencer chuckled, blushing.

- "I will definitely call and ask for your favorite food"- I tried not to smile and shook my head.

- "Oh no, no. If you wanna take the lead and take care of me, you will have to do the whole job and cook, Spencer Walter Reid."- I teased him, and his cheeks turned blood red in less than a minute.

- "Fine,"- he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

- "I can give you my carbonara a la Rossi recipe,"- David said to Spencer from his seat- "Guaranteed to heal all wounds, and special to cheer up your girlfriend, kid."

Everybody stayed quiet at the same time. I wide opened my eyes, shocked, and looked at Spencer, whose cheeks were burning red.

- "She... (Y/N) is not my girlfriend,"- Spencer mumbled and avoided looking at me for a few seconds. Rossi chuckled and turned to us.

- "You call each other cute nicknames, you are always together, you argue like I did with my first wife..."

- "No"- I shook my head and did my best to ignore Derek's teasing comments and Emily's laughter.

- "Well, you could have fooled me,"- David smiled at me, and I didn't know what to answer. I frowned and looked at Spencer, who somehow was even more blushed than he had been a moment earlier.

- "I'm driving you, by the way,"- he whispered, and I didn't really have the strength to argue against that, so I just nodded and sighed.

Spencer's point of view

I thought I was going to die when I saw (Y/N) lying on the floor, blood coming from her shoulder. Time passed in slow motion, like a movie cliché. I ran to her, and I didn't know if the perimeter had been secured. I had no idea if the unsub was dead. I would have killed him myself if I hadn't been focused on (Y/N).

Then she smiled and assured me she was ok. But that wasn't enough for me. Her face was so pale, though her smile was shining bright. So I held her and called a medic. She was in pain, and I didn't know what to do to help her.

I held her hand the whole ride to the hospital and stayed by her side in the ER while the doctor cleaned her wound and put some stitches on it. Then I walked with her to the jet, and the whole time I made my best and biggest effort to stay calm. But once we were on the air, on our way back home, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I could feel the tears fighting their way out, no matter how much I tried to keep them inside.

So I did what seemed more logical and locked myself in the backroom. I needed a minute to put myself together again before I had to continue pretending I didn't nearly lose the woman I love that day. So I washed my face and let the water run through my fingers for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. But I failed, and the tears started falling down my cheeks anyway.

I rested my back against the door and slowly slipped down to the floor until I was sitting, hugging my legs, crying my heart out.

I knew why I was crying. It was a weird mix of fear and relief. I was scared to lose (Y/N), and at the same time, relieved nothing terrible had happened to her. I had to convince myself it was all ok, that she was there on the plane with me, hopefully trying to get some rest.

- "Spence?"- I heard JJ's voice at the other side of the door, and I quickly stood up and washed my face saying, "In a minute." I looked at my reflex. My eyes were puffed, my cheeks were red. There was no way I could ever convince anyone I hadn't been crying.

- "Can you open the door?"

- "There's another bathroom, JJ,"- I said and closed my eyes.

- "I need to talk to you."

- "I'm kind of busy here..."

- "Spence, please"- she begged, and I gave up, only because I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. No one at the BAU seems to understand the concept of personal space.

I opened the door and let her in. The bathroom was too small for the two of us, and I didn't want to think of all the teasing I would get from Morgan if he saw us locked in there. JJ smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. I just sipped it carefully, 'cos it was very hot, and looked at my hands, avoiding eye contact.

- "Why were you crying?"- she whispered and stood against the wall in front of me.

- "I wasn't,"- I lied, but she just raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was useless to deny it- "It was a hard day, and I needed to decompress somehow."

- "Was it because of (Y/N)?"- she simply asked, and I just nodded- "It wasn't your fault, Spence."

- "I should have been there. But I stayed behind, on the phone with Garcia checking the plate of a car that didn't even matter at the end."

- "You were doing your job, and so was she."

- "But I should have done my job better, 'cos something bad might have happened to her, and I would have never forgiven myself,"- JJ nodded and reached out for one of my hands. I tried not to look at her but failed.

- "Are you going to tell her how you feel?"

- "Telling her I feel guilty she got injured won't stop her from being reckless,"- but JJ shook her head.

- "No, Spence. I'm talking about you telling her you are in love with her."

I widened my eyes and stayed still, shocked, blushed. JJ cut me a short smile and probably tried to soothe me, 'cos I immediately got all defensive.

- "What... what are you talking about? I am not in love with (Y/N),"- I whispered and prayed no one outside that bathroom had heard her.

- "Spencer, there is nothing wrong with being in love. I actually think you two would make a cute couple."

- "No, JJ, no. I am not in love with her."

- "Spence, I'm not a profiler, but you are not that hard to read. I can see the way you look at her."

- "She is my best friend."

- "But you love her,"- JJ sentenced, and I just sighed- "It's not wrong to have feelings for someone, Spence. I am sure she feels the same way too."

- "We are just friends. That's it. Thanks for the coffee,"- I added and opened the door.

I walked out of the bathroom in a rush. To avoid talking with anyone on the plane, I called Frank and told him what had happened. I also asked him for Mrs. (Y/L/N) phone number and explained the facts too. She was so scared it took me a while to calm her down.

- "I'm going to stay with her tonight,"- I said and looked at (Y/N) at the other side of the yet. She hadn't slept at all, and I knew she had to rest.

- "Thank you, Spencer. I'll be in Virginia tomorrow. I'm visiting Phoenix in New York this week."

- "Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I'll take care of her."

- "You are the sweetest man she could have met,"- she whispered before hanging down, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew it too.

Apparently, I wasn't hiding my feelings for (Y/N) very well. If JJ could see it, maybe anyone else could. And after what Rossi said, I didn't know if I was busted or not. I didn't know anything. (Y/N) seemed to be as shocked as I pretended to be, so I guess I felt safe. But I knew I had to watch my back now.

Of course, planning to stay with her that night didn't make it easier for me at all.

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- she argued and sat carefully on her couch- "You don't have to stay here with me."

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk, but you were shot. There is nothing on Earth that's gonna make me leave you alone right now."

- "Fine, then help me take a shower,"- she simply said, and I widened my eyes. I know I even held my breath at that. I stared at her from the kitchen door, on my way to make her a cup of tea.

- "Well, in that case, I, I will do... I will do whatever you need to help you,"- I whispered and made my best not to stutter. She shook her head and sighed.

- "I was bluffing, honey. But I mean it, you don't have to stay and take care of me. I'll be fine. Just go home and rest,"- but all I could do was walk to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

- "I'm not going anywhere, so... how do you feel about that carbonara a la Rossi recipe?"

- "Spencer Walter Reid, you don't cook."

- "I do cook! Do you think I've lived on take-outs and coffee all these years?"

- "Hell yeah!"- she said and chuckled. She was right, though. I wasn't the best or more experienced cooker on Earth. But for her, I could try.

- "I tell you what. What if you take a bath and relax, I'll cook you dinner, and then we'll watch a movie? Anything you pick."

- "Anything?"- she raised an eyebrow and stared at me so sweetly and concentrated, I nearly stopped breathing. I didn't trust myself with an answer, so I just nodded and looked at her. Her cheeks were blushing, and that made me feel better. Clearly, she was relaxing at home. The color was coming back to her after being hurt. That was always a good sign.

- "Even my favorite chick flick?"- (Y/N) bit her lips and caught my full attention with that simple movement. I nodded again, not really thinking what she meant with "chick flicks." All I could think of were her lips and how incredibly soft they looked.

- "Even Pride and Prejudice?"- she added, and I nodded again.

- "It's an essential piece of literature. Jane Austen was an incredible writer,"- my voice was muffled, and her eyes were shining- "Did you know In 1802, in her late 20s, Austen briefly accepted a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, the younger brother of two of her close friends? She rescinded it the following day."

- "Yes, neither her nor her sister ever married"- (Y/N) added, and her eyes moved from mine, traveling around the room- "She believed that a woman shouldn't get married if she wasn't in love. She once advised her niece Fanny Knight that "anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection."

Somehow, (Y/N)'s eyes were blurry with sadness all of a sudden. Her words stopped. I was tempted to hold her hands that rested on her lap but stopped myself. I was scared to give too much away, and that she suspected how I felt about her. I didn't want her thinking I was in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I was. I am. And I know I will always love her. But that night on that couch, I was afraid of her rejection and scared she might have stopped being my friend if she ever knew how I really felt about her.

- "Maybe you are right, honey,"- (Y/N) whispered and slowly stood up- "I'll take that bath after all."

- "Watch those stitches"- I quickly stood up too and just nodded, looking at her as she started walking towards her room- "I'll cook dinner meanwhile."

- "Thank you, honey bunny,"- she said and turned around just to cut me a small smile before disappearing into her bedroom.

I made my best effort with dinner. I followed Rossi's instructions to the letter. (Y/N) had a lot of food in her fridge. Unlike me, she actually cooked her own meals. She was right about me and the take-outs. I had never been a great cook, and I trusted my local Thai place with most of my dinners. But that night was different.

Pasta carbonara was pretty good, I must say. (Y/N) opened a bottle of wine, though I told her it was a horrible idea mixing drinking with the pain killers she was prescribed.

- "I am actually not taking them,"- she whispered and took a sip of red.

- "You had a major injure on that shoulder (Y/N)."

- "It's just five stitches, honey. I don't need those pills. I actually didn't even get them,"- she replied. I looked at her in awe, thinking she was way stronger than she even gave herself credit for.

- "In that case, you can have two glasses of wine and extra dessert,"- I stated, and she chuckled.

We ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess the two of us were pretty tired that night. It had been a long day, a long case, and though neither of us wanted to deal with it, we knew things could have easily gone wrong.

After eating, I cleaned the dishes and prepared a tray with a cup of herbal tea for (Y/N), a coffee for me, and two bowls of ice cream, and we cuddled on the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice. She whispered most of the lines and argued against Darcy for half of the movie. But by the end, she snuggled closer to me, and I wrapped an arm around her carefully, trying not to get near her shoulder at all. Her head was resting on my chest, and I could feel her sighing with each word that Darcy spoke.

- "What is it with you and this book?"- I asked her suddenly. She huffed and looked at me with a cut, short smile.

- "I don't know, but I've been obsessing with Darcy and Lizy ever since I first read the story. I guess the classic "fools in love" story is my weakness. How couldn't they see how much they loved each other from day one?"

My mouth fell open, but I didn't say a word. She just smiled and turned to the screen again. That was good. I didn't want her to see how flustered I was.

- "Darcy knew he loved her, but he tried to fall out of love with her, and she was completely blinded by her so-called "hate" towards him to deal with her real feelings."- (Y/N) added- "I know that's not a complex and complete study of the story but in a short version of the whole plot... I guess that's what's so endearing and addictive about it. Everyone has been Darcy or Lizzy."

- "I doubt most people can relate with having four sisters and an obsessive nervous mother who keeps forcing you to get married,"- I joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

- "You'd be surprised, honey,"- she sighed and snuggled closer. My hand played with her hair for a few more minutes until the end of the movie.

- "(Y/N)?"- I whispered when we were already in bed. I wore the pajamas I kept in my go bag and crawled into bed with her as soon as she asked me to sleep with her. Ee had done it before, it wasn't weird, and we were best friends.

There was absolutely nothing friendly with how I felt, though. But I had to put all those feelings in a box and hide them deep inside of me 'cos they were no good for our relationship.

- "What happens, Spencer?"

- "I just wanted to tell you... you scared me today,"- she sighed. We were already hugged, but she snuggled closer and kissed my cheek softly.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'll be more careful, I promise."

It was such a simple promise, and I knew though she meant well, the job was always going to get in the way. Our lives were always on the line working at the BAU. And no matter how much we wanted to take care of ourselves, sometimes things were out of our control.

- "Promise me you'll be careful too,"- she whispered, and I leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently.

- "I promise I'll be careful, chipmunk."

- "Will you always come home to me?"- she whispered and sighed, dozing off.

- "Always. I love you so much, (Y/N)"- that last confession fell from my lips before I could even realize what I was saying.

- "I love you too, honey,"- she answered, her voice muffled against my chest.

I stayed still, trying to burn in my memory every second of that moment, 'cos I knew it was going to be one of my most precious memories until my last day.

–

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–

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Next update: June 9th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Spencer Reid fanfic #spencer x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfic #Matthew Gray Gubler #Babymetaldoll writes #fluff #angst #Spencer reid fanfiction #DIWK #Series #Criminal Minds rewrite #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #Aaron Hotchner #David Rossi #jeniffer jareau

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aubreyprc · 4 years ago

Text

all through the night

‘all through the night

i’ll be awake

and i’ll be with you’

summary - hotch is in a building hit by a dirty bomb and gets radiation poisoning. (established hotchniss - season 4 anthrax episode re write but i just?? make it worse. (for @ssa-m-187 bc ? she badgered me about this for ??? eight days straight✋🏻 also she is 21 now everyone say happy birthday)

ao3

The word bomb echo's through the building and there’s three seconds before it goes off. Three seconds in which Hotch grabs Emily, pushing the both of them behind a wall, holding her to his chest as he does his best to cover her from the impending blast, only able to watch the other members of his team scatter behind other forms of what they hope will be shields, in the corner of his eye he can see Morgan grab Reid, pull the younger man into his chest in a similar way as he is shielding Emily, head pressed into his shoulders, hand on the back of his head and in another situation he would probably question it, but he hears the click of something in the distance and holds Emily tighter, pressing her face further into his neck as they grip onto each other, her arms resting around his waist.

Closing his eyes, he feels the building shake around them, the sound of bricks falling on the other side of them sounding louder as it echos into their ears. The ringing sound that follows is unpleasant, but not unwelcome, because it’s a sound that they’re okay. That they made it.

Right?

“Are you okay?” he asks as the ringing in their ears almost knocks them to the floor. He cups her cheeks, forcing her to look at him as her legs give out underneath her, the unbalance of her hearing knocking her sense of gravity off course and he follows her to the floor, terror rising in his chest as she stares at him, squinting her eyes as pain rushes through her head, coughing slightly as dust hits her chest and lungs.

“Emily,” he says as best he can, his own voice sounding like an echo in his own ears. “sweetheart, can you hear me?” he asks her, complete horror coming down on him as he realises that she could have hearing damage, could have —

“What happened?” she asks, reaching out to grab him as they both rush to their feet, the shouts of the team and other people in the building registering at a louder frequency as the ringing silences.

“A bomb.” he tells her, “are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m— I’m okay.” she nods, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together as they stand and he smiles, running his thumb across her cheek before Morgan’s voice is hitting their ears.

“We have to get our of here.” he tells the, coming up to the side of them and reaching out to grab Emily’s arm, rushing the two of them from the building. Hotch squeezes Emily’s hand when she turns to face him, smiling softly at her as an indication that they’re okay and she smiles back.

As soon as they’re outside they all take large breaths, Emily’s hand sliding from his as she coughs, the fresh air forcing her lungs to recoil. He runs a hand down her back before walking towards the bomb squad, a million questions on his mind and he’s half way there when a scream hits everyone’s ears and renders them frozen, before they all turn back to the building.

“What was that?” Emily asks as Hotch makes his way back to her, everyone’s eyes on the building. “Who else was in there?”

“Did we ever find out if this was where he was hiding the girl?” Morgan asks, staring back to the team. “We barley had time to even look around before the bomb was activated. She could have been in there.”

“You think that scream was her?” Emily asks, rubbing a hand over her sore chest.

“I think it’s a possibility.” he tells her and she sighs.

“I’ll go back in.” Aaron says and all eyes snap to him.

“What?” Emily asks, “Are you insane?”

“The chance of another bomb going off now is unlikely—”

“But not impossible.” she argues back, “you’re not risking your life for a— a chance that someone is in there.”

“I don’t have a choice.” he tells her, “we all heard that scream, if we do nothing and it turns out she was in there and we could have saved her… would you ever be able to forgive yourself?” he asks the team, each member staying silent.

“You—” Emily tries to argue back, before turning her head to the team, staring at them until they catch on, and slowly walk out of ear shot. “You’re not going in there.”

“I have to—”

“No.” she tells him, “Have someone else to in. Someone from bomb squad. Someone—”

“You know I have to.” he says and she stops talking, looking to the floor as she crosses her arms over herself, looking up slightly when he places a finger under her chin. “I’ll be okay.”

“You can’t die.” she tells him, and he smiles while he nods.

“I won’t.” he assures her, “would it make you feel better if I promised?” he jokes and she rolls her eyes, a smirk growing on her face.

“Do you? Promise?” she questions as she looks at him and he stares back.

“I promise.” he whispers, and she nods, watching with complete terror as he follows a member of bomb squad back into the building.

“He’s going to be fine.” Morgan says, throwing an arm over her shoulder and kissing her temple. “He’s going to be fine.” he repeats, unsure of who he’s trying to convince as Hotch disappears out of eyesight.

She’s being seen by a medic, rolling her eyes at Morgan as he forces the oxygen mask back on her face while wearing his own, muttering something about how if Hotch was here he’d duck tape it to her face when there’s a shout from across the path, men in hazmat suits running towards the building and she swears in that moment she feels her heart stop.

“What—” she mumbles, standing and watching the suited men rush into the building, her heart now hammering against her chest as terror settles into her veins and she’s rushing over to the bomb squad before she even registers that she needs to move.

“What’s going on?” she asks them, her voice laced with fear and worry, her eyes burning into theirs.

“It was a dirty bomb.” he tells her regretfully, knowing full well who went back in, knowing full well who he was to her.

“A dirty—” she inhales, pressing a hand to her stomach as she tries to catch her breath, her heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of her chest.

“You all need to get tested for radiation poisoning but… we’re hopeful that you all got out quick enough for there to be no issues.”

“But what—” she shakes her head, nothing making sense, because this can not be happening. “What about everyone that went back in? How much exposure—” she doesn’t continue, the look in his eye all too familiar, one she’s seen before, one she gives to families when it’s bad news and all she can do is shake her head while she forces herself to try and breathe as her chest feels heavy, fear turning into horror, horror turning into something indescribable, a feeling she’s never felt before and it has her whole body aching with dread. She looks towards the building, can hear the shouts of his and another name she doesn’t recognise echo through the rubble and it has her running, a need to be in there, a need to find him, a need for him to be okay. She barley even knows she’s moving until there’s someone grabbing her waist, lifting her off her feet and turning her around, wrapping her into their arms.

“I can’t let you do that, princess.” Morgan whispers, fighting tooth and nail with her to keep her in his hold, “stop.” he tells her. “stop.” he says again, grabbing her tighter to the point where he knows it has to be hurting her, yet she wont give up, fighting his hold like her life depended on it and he's left with no choice but to let her go, only to grab her shoulders when she turns to move again and make her look at him. "Stop." he tells her again but this time his eyes burn into hers, and the fear that stares back at him almost makes him nauseous.

"Let me go." she tells him, trying to force herself from his hold but he's stronger than her. "Morgan, please." she pleads, "let me go."

"I can't do that." he tells her softly, "you know I can't."

She opens her mouth to speak, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it comes out as an exhale, a small cry at the end of it as she drops her head, covering her face with her hands as she takes deep breaths. She feels herself being pulled into his chest, his hand on the back of her head as he comforts her but its useless and they both know it. There isn't any comfort in a situation like this, how could there be?

He's brought out on a gurney a few moments later, the sound of shouts a few yards away catching her attention and she looks over before taking off in a run, at his side in moments as paramedics in full kits rush to his aid, she can see him looking at her, notices his hand reaching out for her and her heart aches as he grunts in pain, mumbling her name as she's pushed back by paramedics, explanations of how unsafe this is and that unfortunately you can't see him right now, he could have radiation poisoning hitting her ears but none of it registers as she pushes past them, latching his hand with hers as she smiles down at him, ignoring the protests of the paramedics as she follows them into the ambulance only to be stopped before she could get in.

"Agent. You really aren't allowed to be near him without proper—" he starts, but another interrupts.

"He's in a lot of pain, were going to have to knock him out." they explain and the other nods, before looking back at Emily.

"Just—" she starts, "let me sit with him and once he's out I'll go." she bargains and the man sighs. "I was in the building anyway, there a fifty percent chance I have it—"

"Fine." he gives in, and she thanks him before rushing in, sitting at Aaron's side and takes his hand in hers, smiling when he looks at her.

"Hey," he croaks out, "you're okay?"

"I'm okay." she smiles, holding back her tears as she runs a hand through his hair, pushing it from his forehead. "You're okay too." she says, nodding at the paramedic as he readies to put him out. "I love you." she whispers, and the smile on his face has her heart aching in her chest.

"I love you too." he repeats as he falls under, his hand going limp in hers and once his eyes close her head drops, silent cries leaving her body as she squeezes it.

"Agent Prentiss I can't stress this enough, I need you to step out—"

"I know." she sighs sadly, running her hand through his hair once more before existing, sending one last look his way as she watches the door's close.

"Come on." Morgan says, gently pushing her to get her moving, "we have to get to the hospital." she simply nods, lets him lead her to the SUV as her mind runs wild with different outcomes, the sound of the team talking seeming like background noise as she grabs the necklace from around her neck, staring at the ring hooked through it, feeling the future they had planned together slip through her fingers.

Eight Months Ago

She knows something is... off the moment she wakes up to an empty bed, her hand finding a sheet instead of a person. She frowns, looking at the vacant space next to her, she expects to maybe hear him in the shower, but the bedroom and the ensuite are.. silent, something it never is this early in the morning.

That off feeling doesn't fade, it instead increases when she makes her way through the house, stepping into the kitchen to find him turning quickly at the sound of her arrival and ending the call.

"Hey," he smiles, "you're up early." he tells her and she frowns, looking at the clock behind him.

"Its just past nine..." she says suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at him, "its our first day off this month, I expected you to be sleeping in."

"Couldn't sleep." he explains, "Coffee?" he asks and she nods, squinting her eyes at him as he moves around the kitchen; he walks over to her with the cup, smiling at her as he passes it over before catching her lips in his. "Good morning." he whispers against her lips and she smiles.

"Good morning." she whispers, smiling when he kisses her again before wrapping an arm around her waist. "care to share who was on the phone?" she teases, bringing the cup to her lip.

"I—" he begins, but his phone rings again and she smiles, watching through the top of the cup as he sighs, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Chief Strauss," he says and she rolls her eyes, "good morning." he adds but they already know what the conversation is going to be, something about a case, something about them being asked for by name, something that is going to rob them of their day off and so she heads out of the kitchen, sipping her coffee as she walks back into the bedroom.

He comes up behind her a few minuets later while she stands at the sink, wraps his arms around her with his head on her shoulder as they look at each other through the mirror, her head leaning sideways to rest on his.

"Where?" she questions.

"It's local. We can work it from the BAU." he tells her, "the rest of the team have been called as well."

"What's the case?" she asks and he stands, kissing her temple.

"I have no idea." he says, "local PD requested us." she nods, watching him disappear out of the bathroom muttering to himself and she smiles, biting her bottom lip as she wraps herself further into his shirt.

He pushes the dinner forward a week, buries the ring deeper into a draw she's never opened and curses under his breath, laughing because of course this would happen. Nothing about them had ever been easy, why should this be?

He doesn't even think about it, the ring, the proposal... pushes it to the back of his mind and it remains there for almost the entirety of the case, almost...It all happens pretty quickly after that.

She and Morgan are walking through the suspects house, he can hear their voices through their ear pieces and the sound of her voice is soothing as he stands outside, nerves firing through him.

The sound of the gun shot echo's, and everyone stills, waiting, praying for the moment where their friends voices come through the ear piece, but this time the waiting seems longer than it had been before, they seem to be left with silence for minuets rather than mere moments and his nerves turn to terror as he feels the team turn to face him, waiting for their next move, waiting for something. And he's about to speak, about to order them to run in behind him, be prepared for anything, when there's a gasp in his ear, followed by coughs, and harsh wheezes. They can hear Morgan asking Emily if she's okay, can hear the mumble of her reply and the sound of her voice nearly has him dropping to his knees, the feeling of complete relief almost overwhelming as her voice continues to travel to his ear.

Once she's out, he waits until they're out of earshot, out of the teams eye line, and as soon as they are he grabs her, pulling her into his arms and exhaling, the feeling of her relaxing into his hold making his heart melt. She rests her head in his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist and she sighs.

"I'm okay." she whispers and he simply nods, pulling away gently to cup her cheeks, look at her while he smiles. "I'm okay." she says again, taking his hands in her own and slowly pulling them down, "lets go home." she tells him with a smile, lacing her hand into his and laughing when he kisses her temple, before leading the two of them back to the SUVs.

He's still pacing when they get home, always opening his mouth to say something before closing it, only to then start pacing again and after almost an hour she snaps.

"What is wrong with you?" she asks, standing and he turns, facing her with wide eyes. "You've never acted like this before." she tells him, "stop pacing, just... sit." she tells him and he just, looks at her, knowing he should agree, knowing that he is acting strange but... his brain wont stop screaming about that day's events, the way she could have died and she would have never seen the ring, never worn in, never known just how in love with her he was, and he can not sit still. "Aaron, I swear to god—" she starts but he's already pulling the box out of this pocket, the box he put there when they first gotten home over an hour ago, opens it and interrupts her.

"Marry me." he says, and her words stop, her eyes widen and she stares, at him, then at the ring, and then at him again. "I had this plan, we were going to go for dinner and I was going to ask you at the bench, on the park where..." he fades out, before starting again, "but then today you, you got shot and... there was this moment, this long, horrible moment when I thought you were dead and— and all I could think about was how you would never know. Never know how much I love you—" she silences him with a kiss, cupping his face gently as she does, a smile forming as they break apart and she bites her bottom lip, laughing happily as he stares at her with confusion.

"Is that a yes?" he questions, a smirk growing on his face and she laughs, nodding her head as she hooks an arm around the back of his neck and kisses him again.

"Of course I'll marry you." she laughs happily and he smiles, taking the ring out and placing it on her finger before kissing her again, the band a cold but welcome feeling on his cheek as she cups it.

"I love you." he whispers, the feel of her smile against his lips warming his heart.

"I love you too." she tells him.

That night, he reaches over to his night stand and pulls out a necklace, a small charm hanging loosely from it and she sits up from where she rested on his chest.

"What's that?" she asks with a smile and he smirks, grabbing her left hand, the feel of the band on her ring finger making his heart flutter.

"I was thinking... you could hook your ring through it, that way you can wear it on the filed or..." he fades out, looking at her as she smiles. She grabs the necklace gently, staring at the small charm attached to it before her eyes land back on him.

"I love it." she smiles, leaning down to kiss him, "and I love you."

"I love you too." he tells her, tracing a finger down her bare back as she smiles.

She's wearing the ring on the necklace the next day, the sight of her smile as she tucks in under her shirt one he wishes he could imprint behind his eyes and replay forever, a smile he knows he reserved just for him.

They're all tested for radiation before they're allowed to step foot in the building, all scattered close by each other as they wait, as do many others. Each member of the team watching Emily from the corner of their eye as she leans against the door of their SUV, twisting the ring in her finger as she stares at it, wiping her tears.

"Has she said anything?" JJ asks Morgan when he comes up beside her, running a hand over his head.

"No," he tells her, "I don't—" he starts but stops himself, sighing with a shake of his head, "someone needs to call Haley..."

"I think Dave's already on it." she tells him, nodding her head towards the older man as he speaks on the phone a few yards away. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, under the circumstances." he says, "I think we all probably got out in time."

"If Aaron —" she starts, but he wont listen.

"I can't think about that." he tells her, casting his eyes to Emily again, "it will destroy her."

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to answer, a doctor heading their way.

"You're all clear." he tells them, "Agent Hotchner is still being seen to, but you're welcome to sit in the waiting area. I will come and get you the moment I know anything."

They thank him, a small, sad smile on their faces as they follow behind him into the hospital and Spencer turns, meeting Emily's eye as she trails behind them and he takes her hand and smiles when she accepts it.

"He's okay." he tells her, but they both know he can't be sure of that.

"Yeah." she whispers, following the team into the hospital, glancing once again to the necklace that rests in her palm, her ring feeling heavier than it usually does.

The wait seems like days as they sit there, each one coping differently. Spencer sits next to Emily, watching her closely as she stares ahead, her expression completely blank as her mind continues to run wild, JJ and Penelope sit across from her, the two blonde women ready to be there for whatever she needs should something happen, Dave leans against the wall, silent prayers leaving his mouth and Derek paces, the sound of his steps the only sound in the room.

"Will you sit down?" Emily snaps after a few more minuets and the man stops, turning his head to her, "you're making me dizzy."

"Yeah," he says gently, taking a seat next to Reid, "sorry."

Emily sighs, dropping her head forward and she's just about to apologise for snapping when a doctor finally appears.

"How is he?" Dave asks instantly as the doctor stands in front of them, and the look on her face has Emily turning around, a hand over her mouth as she exhales a shaky breath, a hand falling to her stomach as it turns violently, horror feeling like a brick in her gut.

"We did everything we could." she tells them once Emily turns to face her again, "we tried every antibiotic, tried every fluid... he was exposed for too long, there is nothing we can do. I'm sorry."

"What—" Emily says, clearing her throat, "what now?"

"We make him as comfortable as possible, keep him on a high dose of morphine for the next few hours, he will become short of breath, he'll have a high fever, he'll be nauseous... he'll be in a lot of pain." she tells her sadly, her tone full of regret and remorse.

"How long?" Emily asks her, and the woman sighs.

"I can't say for sure, some last a few hours, some a few days." she tells her, before sighing, "he currently has a high fever, he's on a morphine drip right now and is being filled with fluids. He had a high exposure to the radiation... I don't see him lasting the weekend." she tells her gently.

Emily inhales, clutching the ring that is back around her neck as she inhales, short, harsh breaths leaving her chest as she walks backwards.

"Can we see him?" Dave asks her.

"You can see him, yes, but I'm afraid you can't enter the room, there is a intercom on the wall, you can stay as long as you like."

"But we can't see him?" Derek asks and the doctor nods.

"No, I'm sorry..." she says, "If you'll excuse me." she tells them, sending them a sad smile before walking away, leaving them to process the news.

Everyone remains still, taking in the information, trying to understand it, no one hears footsteps heading towards them, and it's a small voice that breaks their trance.

"Where's daddy?" Jack asks them, resting on his mother's hips as she stands in front of them, and it isn't until Haley meets Emily eyes, sees the grief and heartbreak that stares back at her that it hits her.

"No..." she says, shaking her head, "he—"

"Why don't I take Jack?" JJ offers, smiling as the boy goes gently into her arms. She tilts her head for the team to follow, leaving the two women to talk.

"How long?" Haley asks her when its just two of them and Emily shakes her head, forcing herself to swallow the lump in her throat.

"They don't know." she tells her, "could be hours, could be days but they—" she stops, "they don't see him lasting longer than the weekend."

"Oh my g—" her words trail off, a hand coming over her mouth as she takes in Emily's words. "Where... where is he?" she asks.

"The ICU." Emily tells her, "you can't go in the room but there's an... intercom, outside." she says, "Jack should see him, if you —" but she doesn't continue, she can't, the pain in her chest becoming overwhelming.

"Yeah." Haley whispers, turning to look at her son as he smiles, oblivious to what is going on around him. "I'm sorry." she tells her and Emily looks up. "You're loosing the man you love and.. I'm sorry."

"Me too." Emily smiles sadly, "Excuse me." she says, passing her quickly and heading down the hall, out of sight as soon as she turns the corner and Haley puts on a smile and heads back to her son.

"I'm... going to take him to see Aaron." she tells the team, "one of you should go and find Emily." she tells them and Derek nods, already stepping to the side to pass her.

"He'll be breathless, he might have a fever but... he should see him." Reid tells her, "Before its too late."

Haley nods, stroking her sons cheek as she turns to smile at him, holding back her own tears for the sake of their child.

"You want to see Daddy?" she asks and the boy smiles, nodding his head. "Okay, come on." she says and they follow his doctor towards the ICU.

Derek finds her leaning on the wall, the back of her head resting against it as she closes her eyes, forces herself to keep breathing even though her heart feels like its going to snap inside of her chest.

"Haley took Jack to see him." he tells her, "you should go and see him to."

"How is this happening?" she asks him after a few moments, her voice small and broken, a sound he's never heard from her before and he hates it. Her eyes scream how much pain she's in, the tear falling down her cheek making him feel sick and he can only imagine how heartbroken she is, the thought of it being Spencer making his body recoil.

"I don't know, princess." he whispers, gently pulling her into his chest. "I'm sorry." he tells her gently, placing a kiss onto her head, feeling his heart physically shatter when her body rakes with sobs, the sound of them like a twist of a knife to his gut and all he can do is hold her tighter, knowing the one thing she needs is the one thing he can't give her...

a future with the man she loves.

Wiping her tears she heads down the hall, slowing her steps when she hears Jack talking to his father through the intercom, a small laugh leaving his body as he speaks. She smiles sadly at Haley when the woman turns, crossing her arms over herself as though she could protect herself from the inevitable. From the heartbreak, the loss, the grief that already felt like it was consuming her.

"Say goodbye," Haley whispers to her son, keeping her voice soft to avoid the crack and Jack smiles, waving at his father from the other side of the door, a sad goodbye daddy sounding more final than it ever should coming from such a young boy.

She stops in front of the other woman, Jack giving her a small wave as he rests his head on his mothers shoulder, a wave she gives back with a smile, the one he reciprocates reminding her of his father and her heart feel heavy, as she looks away.

"He..." Haley says, "he doesn't look good, Emily." she tells the other woman. "I think the weekend is a bit... out of reach." she whispers and all Emily can do is nod, taking a deep breath as she looks to the floor.

"Will you call me?" Haley asks, and she looks up, "when it happens? I don't want to hear it from Dave or... Morgan while they act like they get it..." she explains with such a sad tone that it almost has her dropping to the floor.

"Of course," she tells her, "I get that." she nods, and Haley smiles.

"Bye Emmy," Jack says softly as Haley begins walking off.

"Bye," she smiles at the boy, waving slightly as he looks at her other his mothers shoulder as they head out of view.

She clears her throat, taking a few breaths before she heads over to his room, she knew there is no way to prepare herself for this but the sight of him attached to wires, his body shivering as sweat pumps off him, his violent coughs forcing his body to recoil forward is an image she knows will haunt her forever.

"Hey..." she says through the intercom with a smile and he turns to her, a smile growing on his own face when he see's her, no longer scrunched in pain but, happy, light.

"Hi," he smiles, "how are you feeling?" he asks her and she laughs, truly laughs for the first time in over three hours and raises an eyebrow at him.

"How am I feeling?" she laughs, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I suppose," He smirks, before looking at her, "you're okay?" he asks and she swallows, nodding her head as she tries to remain smiling.

"I'm okay." she tells him, "are you?"

"I am now." he smiles, "Emily I—" he starts, before his body recoils forward, harsh chokes coming from his chest as he gasps for air and she's being moved out of the way before she can even process what's happening, can only watch as doctors in full protective gear rush into the room, her back hitting the wall with force as she continues to back up.

"What happened?" Reid asks as the team head over to her, she just shakes her head.

"I—," she starts, "I don't know." she tells them, her eyes not leaving the room even as the curtains close, blocking him from view.

"Agent Prentiss?" someone says a moment later, everyone's head turning towards them. "May I talk with you for a moment?"

The woman just nods, pushing herself of the wall, she follows the doctor down the hall, taking one last look at the closed off room before turning a corner towards the doctors office.

As she takes a seat the doctor smiles at her, an uneasy feeling in her stomach increasing as she looks at her.

"What's going on?" she asks apprehensively, "I need to—"

"I understand you are Agent Hotchners fiancée... I'll make this as quick as I can I know this can not be easy."

"What?" she asks, her stomach clenching with nerves.

"Something came up on your tests, something you aren't probably aware of yet." she tells her, "You're pregnant, Agent Prentiss." she says after a few moments, and Emily freezes, taking a breath.

"I'm sorry?" she asks, "What do you mean I'm— No.." she stutters, her mind working overtime as she tries to understand, tries to take in the entire day's events on top of the news she's being given. "What?"

"About three weeks, I would say. Very, very early on, I figure you wouldn't have even realised a change in cycle yet." she tells her, "I understand this is tough news given the circumstances and you do have options.."

"Options?" Emily asks, "I—" she stops, "Pregnant?" she questions.

"Yes." the doctor tells her, handing her a sheet with a handful of different results on it and she inhales as she see's it, the bold positive across from the word pregnant, and her world shifts, she feels it. "I know this isn't ideal and.. I am sorry." she says but Emily remains silent, "Take a few days, think about things. I can only imagine how difficult this must be."

"Yeah," she whispers, looking back at the doctor, "I have— I have to go." she says, standing, her mind scattered as her world flips around her, nothing feeling real.

"Of course," she says, handing her a card, "Please, if you need anything, if you need to discuss options, call me."

"Okay." Emily says, taking the card and with that leaves the room, pushing the piece of paper into her back pocket as she heads down the hall and back to the team. Back to Aaron. Her dying fiancée. The father of her child. The dying father of her child.

A child she isn't even sure she wants. A child they've barley even spoken about.

Four months ago

They're watching Jack and Henry laugh together in the living room, the team scattered around JJ's house when he says it.

"Do you want any?" he asks, placing an arm over her shoulder, lacing his fingers through hers as they reach for them.

"What? Kids?" she questions, turning her head to face him and he nods. "I... I've never really thought about it." she tells him honestly, having pushed the options of kids far from her mind after getting out of Interpol.

"You're great with Jack." he tells her with a smile, her own forming on her face as she looks towards him, his laugh echoing around the room as he runs from Morgan. "I'm not saying you have to decide right now but... we should definitely talk about it."

"Sure." she smiles, trying to ignore the feeling of fear as it creeps into her gut, the thought of bringing a child into the world knowing what their job entails, knowing that her past is brutal and could return at any moment, knowing she has no idea how to be a mother, never really having one herself.

"It's okay if you dont—"

"Can we talk about it later?" she interrupts, smiling sadly as she looks at him.

"Yeah." he tells her, kissing her temple before turning to the happy shouts of Jack, his smile wide and she has to look away, the idea that she might be the reason he doesn't have anymore feeling like a brick in her stomach.

They never do manage to talk about it again, it lingers, whenever he watches her with Jack and she can almost hear the words on the tip of his tongue but he never says them, choosing instead to let her be the one to start the conversation, but she never does, knowing that when she ultimately decides that she can't, that she wont be a mother, she's forcing him into that decision to, one where he never gets to have another child, and the fear that he'll leave her, the option of more children important to him, silences her every time.

The piece of paper that sits in her back pocket, the object another reminder that her whole life is going to change, has her dropping to the floor, her back against the wall as she throws her head forward, crying into her hands, and it dawns on her, that Aaron is dying, that the future she had planned was gone, a mere almost that she will think about for the rest of her life and as she cries, she thinks about all the times she could have spoken to him about their kid and never did, and now has to decide whether to share the news with him that there is a child, their child, his child, but one he will never meet.

That hurts more that the idea of him leaving her ever did.

It's Reid who finds her, she'd been sat there awhile, the cries had turned silent, her head leaning against the wall as she stares at the one opposite, the piece of paper dangling loosely in her hands as well as the necklace, the ring swinging side to side. Tears continue to fall down her face, the waterworks non stop as the information, her new reality, starts to overwhelm her.

"Hey." he says softly, coming up to the side of her. "He's okay." he tells her and she drops her head, a short sob leaving her body. He sits down next to her, looks at her as his head rests on the wall. "We were worried, when you didn't come back."

"Sorry," she says quietly, lifting her head back to the wall as she sighs, not even bothering to wipe the tears that wont stop anyway. "I just... needed a minute."

"Is everything okay?" he asks her and she laughs, because, what a stupid question. "I mean, I know it's not, but—" he says quickly, "What did the doctor say, is what I meant."

She sighs before looking at him, the worry that stares back at her making her smile sadly, and she hands him the paper, turning away, unable to look at the way his eye's widen as he reads it.

"Em.. I—" he stops, shaking his head, this is cruel.

"I don't know what to do." she whispers, wiping her cheeks with both hands as she sighs, "I don't even know if I should tell him."

"I'm sorry." he whispers because its all he can say, there are no words for a situation like this. "I didn't know you guys were trying." he says almost uncomfortably and she chuckles at that while she shakes her head.

"We weren't," she says, "I mean.. we were... but we weren't—"

"I got it." he stops her, a frown on his face as he shakes the mental image from his mind, a smile forming when she laughs. "I don't have an answer, for if you should tell him... I think—" he stops, placing his hand in hers, "I think you need to decide this on your own."

"It feels cruel, to tell him about a child he'll never meet," she says as she takes his hand, "I don't even know if I... I don't know." she sighs sadly.

"Do you want to keep it?" he asks her.

"I don't know." she says again, the three words falling off her tongue more in the last day than she thinks it ever has before. "If he was alive, if he'd be here, then, maybe but..." she tails off, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." he repeats, "for all of it."

"Me too." she says, turning to the sound of footsteps.

"He's asking for you." Morgan tells her, walking over and helping the two of them of the ground, "What's that?" he asks regarding the paper still in Spencer's hand.

"Nothing," he tells him, "Just the test results." he smiles and Morgan accepts it, lacing his hand through his free one; As the three are walking, Emily smiles gratefully at the young genius, taking the paper back slyly and putting it back in her pocket, telling herself she can deal with it later, but she knows if she wants to tell him, it has to be soon.

He smiles when he see's her through the door, a soft, but happy hi on his lips.

"How are you feeling?" she asks him, her own soft smile on her face.

"I'm okay," he tells her, but she can see right through it, the frown lines on his face, the harsh breaths he takes, he's in pain and it kills her. "No one could find you, said you had to...something about a doctor?" his words don't make sense, another hint to her that he's in more pain than he's letting on, but she lets him, able to give him just this one thing. Let him comfort her.

"Just something about the tests," she says, "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" he asks her, worry in his eyes.

"I'm okay," she tells him, "I—" she stops, clenching her jaw as she looks down, refusing to let herself cry in front of him. "I wish I could be in there."

"I know," he replies gently, "me too." There's a sadness in his eye, and it hits her then, that he knows he's dying to, that just as she is feeling their future slip away, so he is. He knows he'll never see his son grow up, never grow old, never meet his grandchildren, and it makes her feel sick, that he's aware of it, that he's grieving for everything he'll lose just as much as they are. And the thought of adding more to that, the thought of telling him that their having a baby just for him to know about another thing he will never meet, never watch grow up, just feels selfish.

"What is it?" he asks her and she snaps her head back up, smiling as she wipes her tears and shakes her head.

"Nothing." she whispers, "I just..."

"Yeah, I know," he whispers back, "I should have listened to you, you are always right after all." he teases, and she laughs.

"You're just now releasing this?" she jokes.

"Hm," he smirks, "I guess I've always—" he's interrupted by a series of harsh coughs, his breaths very few in between as he chokes and she hates that she can't be in there, that she can't rub his back and whisper your okay for just the little bit of comfort that he deserves. He leans back as his catches his breath, a mixture of exhaustion, high doses of morphine and death pulling him down, his eyes closing slightly.

"Get some rest." she tells him, "I'll be right here."

"I love you," he mumbles as he looks at her through thin eyes, his pale skin covered in sweat as he shivers.

"I love you too." she smiles, waiting for him to succumb to sleep before she lets her smile drop and the tears fall, allowing herself to be pulled into familiar arms as they wrap around her.

"I got you," Morgan whispers, holding back his own tears for her, for Hotch, for them. "I got you, princess." he says again, rubbing a hand down her back as she cries..

It happens that day, four hours later.

She isn't even with him, when it begins, she's in the waiting room, staring once again at the piece of paper, her brain working overtime to try and process it, to try and figure out if telling him is selfish and cruel, or if not telling him is selfish and cruel, the argument feeling loud in her head.

It's Morgan who comes to get her, his face full of devastation as she looks up and it makes her heart fall, the paper forgotten and falling to the floor when she stands, before rushing past him, not noticing him go to pick it up.

"Agent Prentiss—" The doctor starts as Emily reaches the room, "You—"

"I need to be in there." she tells her, her heart hammering in her chest, the thought of him dying alone making her want to drop to her knees.

"I'm afraid you can't—" she starts but she wont accept it, already charging past her, and neither the team or the doctors are able to stop her as she barges past them all, working on her need to see him, to tell him, to be there making her stronger than them all combined and she's through the door in less than thirty seconds, the sound of it shutting behind her louder than intended, and everyone jumps.

"She can't be in there—" one starts, already moving to forcibly remove her from the room but Dave steps forward.

"She's already in there, you wont get her out."

"It's against all procedure, she could—"

"She's already in there." he tells them again, "It's too late."

"What are the chances of her getting it? If she stays with him?" JJ asks.

"Ten, maybe fifteen percent." they tell her, "But—"

"She'll sign the forms, say she went in their against orders. Just, let her be with him, don't make her watch him die alone." Penelope says from her sheet on the chairs.

"It gets worse," Morgan says as he walks up to them, passing the paper to JJ as she reaches for it.

"Oh... my god." she sighs sadly, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"What?" Dave asks, everyone's eyes on the paper.

"She's pregnant." JJ tells them, and the area goes silent as they look towards the room, each one feeling stuck as they watched Emily close the curtains.

He turns to the door when it shuts and his eye's widen when he see's her, his hand already reaching for her on instinct.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, his voice breathless, "You—"

"Don't worry," she tells him, "You're not radio active." she teases, the white lie feeling like the right decision when he visibly relaxes, reaching out his hand for her again, she takes it with a smile. He moves over, tapping the new space with a puppy dog look and she laughs, rolling her eyes as she sits, before moving herself to lay on her side, his body slotting perfectly in her arms as she runs a hand down his cheek, the other clasped in the one that rests in the middle of them.

"Jack likes you," he tells her, his tone soft, but breathy and harsh, and she closes her eyes, preparing herself for him getting ready to go. "You should stay, in his life. Haley could... find it useful, and he'd like to see you sometimes."

"I will," she tells him, running a hand through his hair, "I promise."

"I'm sorry," he says after a few moments, "for going back into the building, for—"

"Shh," she silences him, shaking her head, "this isn't your fault."

"If I—"

"You saved that little girl, " she tells him, "You did the right thing. It's okay." she whispers, lifting her hand from his to cup his cheek, make her look at him. "I'm proud of you." she smiles, and he laughs, a slight cough following and she runs a thumb over his cheek.

"I really wanted to marry you." he tells her, reaching for the ring around her neck. "I always imagined we would just get home after a tough case, go to city hall..." he smiles, his eye's brightening when he see's hers, the happy laugh that leaves her throat still making his heart flutter, even now. "I was thinking we... would go to Europe for our honeymoon, you'd, take me to all your favourite places..."

"That sounds nice." she whispers, "We would have gone to Paris first." she tells him, "Then Italy... maybe Rome or.. Florence, depending on the time of year."

"Definitely spring." he smirks, their happy laughs making it seem like its pillow talk, like its something they can plan, and not something that went from future to fantasy in less than twenty four hours.

"Spring?" she smiles, "Then Florence," she tells him, running her fingers through his hair as he goes lighter in her arms, his breaths becoming more and more uneven while he places his hand in hers on his cheek, bringing it to his lips that linger for a moment.

She knows it now or never, telling him or remaining quiet, letting them bask in the bubble of what if— but the thought of him never knowing, the idea that if she kept them, she would have to live with the fact she never gave him a chance to know they exist has her stomach knotting, the feeling of regret already to heavy.

"I have to tell you something." she whispers, "I— it seems selfish, to tell you but I—"

"What?" he asks softly, lacing their fingers together on his still beating chest.

She looks at him for a moment, the words unable to come out of her mouth.

"Em.. sweetheart, what is it?" he asks her.

She closes her eyes, shaking her head as she drops it slightly, squeezing his hand before looking at him.

"I'm pregnant." she whispers, so quiet that if the room wasn't as silent as it was, he wouldn't have heard her. "I— Just found out a few hours ago and its.. early, like, three weeks and— I didn't know if I should tell you because it seems so... cruel, because—" she rambles, taking a pause to look at him, "I don't know what to do." she tells him, her voice broken, "about any of this."

He lifts his hand, cupping her cheek softly as he wipes her tears, before placing a soft kiss on her lips, one that he puts all of his feelings into, a fear that it could be his last.

"You do what you think is best." he whispers against her lips, their foreheads resting together, "I'm sorry—" she silences him with another soft, sweet kiss.

"I love you." she whispers, their tears joining as one, "I—"

"I know," he smiles, pulling away from her slowly, resting his head back on the pillow as he looks at her. "I love you too." he tells her, "so much."

He's fading out, she can hear it in his breathing, in the way his eye's are closing more frequently, in the way his muscles feel light against her.

She runs her thumb over his cheek again, a smile on her face as she tangles their bodies together, wanting to remain as close to him as possible for the short time they had left.

"I'm sorry I wont be there, for whatever you decide." he chokes out, his voice rough with less air meeting his lungs, an almost gasp for air in his tone. "I know you never really knew if you wanted it—"

"It's okay." she smiles, nodding her head while she holds her tears back, "I'm glad you kissed me in your office that time." she teases, reminding them both of just how far they had come since that first kiss almost three years ago and his laugh has her smiling, finding some happiness in their last moments.

"Me too," he tells her, "I'm glad you showed up at my apartment the week after to shout at me for it."

"It felt justified at the time," she jokes, pushing some hair from his head as he sweats, when a violent shiver making his way through his body she holds him closer, smiling when their faces line up on the pillow. "It's okay." she nods, her voice delicate as she swallows the lump in her throat.

His breathing shallows out, the shivers stopping as he looks at her.

"Thank you for loving me," she whispers to him, the crack in her voice nothing compared to the one in her chest.

"Thank you for letting me." he smirks, allowing them one more happy laugh before he stops fighting, letting the exhaustion in, letting it take over.

"I love you." she tells him; then he's gone, the last thing he ever hears a declaration of love he'd never been in doubt of.

He's gone before her sobs take over, and in the end she's grateful for that.

She doesn't know how long she stays in there, clinging to him as she sobs, unable to accept that he's truly gone, knowing the moment she lets go, the moment she stands and leaves the room, that it's real. That she'll never see him again, never come home and be able to fall easily into his arms on the couch, or smile as she watches him attempt to do a household chore, never hear him laugh at his own jokes or feel his hands in hers, never again feel loved by him, unsure if she would ever feel love again. But she knows she has to, has to leave the room, step back into reality, her new reality, a life without him; She detangles herself from him, looks at him once more placing a kiss on his forehead. She wipes her tears, steps off the bed and heads for the door, hesitating for a moment, letting herself take a breath, letting herself be alone in her grief before she has to take on everyone else's.

As soon as she opens the door, everyone stands, looking at her with pity as she closes it, the click of the door sounding like an ending to a life she thought she would have.

"Em—" JJ starts heading towards her but the woman holds out her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"I have to call Haley." she says in a voice she doesn't even recognise, a voice that's quiet but harsh, almost like she had swallowed razor blades.

"I can do that." Dave says, taking a step towards her, but she shakes her head, stepping away from him.

"No, she—" she stops, inhaling a breath as closes her eyes, leaning her head on the door as dizziness over takes her, feeling too much but nothing at all all at once. "I have to do it." she tells him.

"Emily—" JJ says softly, "really, let them do it, you've been through a lot and—"

"Agent Prentiss," a doctor say's as they come around the corner, "I'm sorry for your loss." he tells her and she just stares at him, "you need to come with me, you needed to be tested for—"

"I have to make a phone call." she says, already trying to walk away but he stops her, a soft hand on her arm and she spins. "What—"

"You really need to have another test done, just to be safe." he tells her, "you can take the call from the room. I understand there may be a few you need to make under the circumstances."

"I—" she starts, before giving up, letting herself be lead by him.

"I'll stay." Morgan says to the team, "Go, see your family, get some air."

"He's really dead..." Garcia whispers.

"Yeah," he sighs, "You'll inform Strauss?" he asks Dave, who just simply nods his head. None of them move, their eye's remaining on the window, the knowledge of what is behind the closed curtains enough to have each one of them nauseous.

She make's the call while she waits for the results, holds back her own sobs as she listen's to Haley's.

"I'd like to help with... planning the funeral?" she asks quietly, "I know I'm—"

"Of course," Emily says, "He's the father of your child. You get a say."

"Thank you." the other woman whispers, "I'm so sorry, Emily."

She inhales, pressing her ring into her hand. "Me too."

The entrance of the doctor has her ending the call.

"You're all clear," she smiles, "I hear you're pregnant." she adds, a sad smile on her face, "I assume congratulations is the wrong word."

"Yeah," she says quietly, still processing that fact, still unsure on what she's going to do and still refusing to think about it. "I'm free to go?"

"Yes," she smiles, "I would like you to come back in six weeks if you decide to keep the baby, just to make sure everything is okay before—"

"Sure," Emily smiles, "Thanks." and she's out of the room.

She excepts to find one or two of her friends stood there, outside the room her dead fiancée lay in until he was cleared for transport, and is shocked to find all five of them.

"Hey," JJ says, smiling at her friend, "Everything okay?"

She simply nods, "I—" she starts but, stops, having no idea what to say, what to do, taken over by a sort of trance, her whole body feeling numb.

"You can stay with me and Will, if you want." JJ offers, "Don't feel like you have to go home until you're ready."

"Thanks," she smiles, "But I just... I need to." she says, nodding her head.

"I'll drive you," Dave tells her, shaking his head when she goes to decline. "You're in no state to drive and even if you were, you don't have a car."

"Okay," she says, noticeably avoiding looking at the door of the room. "Thanks."

It takes them all a few moments, but eventually they make their way from the hospital, each one buried in a mixture of their own heartbreak, and the heartbreak on behalf of Emily.

"Call me if you need anything." JJ tells her, and she nods, before following beside Dave as he heads to the car.

They're riding in silence for almost ten minuets when he speaks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"About what?" she says, closing her eyes as she swallows the bile in her throat.

"Any of it. Aaron, the baby..."

Her eyes snap open, turning her head to face him. "What—"

"You dropped it," he tells her, "The paper. Morgan picked it up."

She doesn't speak, instead turns to look at the road.

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"No." she says, picking at the skin around her fingers.

"Well, whatever you decide. We're all here for you." he tells her and she gives him a small smile before letting them fall back into silence, quickly wiping a tear that falls down her cheek.

"You didn't have to walk me up." she tells him, unlocking the door.

"Yes I did." he tells her and she rolls her eyes, forcing the door open as she holds her breath, but nothing could have prepared her for it. For the way his cup from that morning was still on the living room table, the newspaper he was reading discarded as though he thought he'd be picking it back up when he got home tonight. Throwing her bag onto the table next to the door she catches sight of his coat, one he'd worn the previous weekend when they went out with Jack. There was a picture of the three of them just on the counter ahead of her and she almost wants to throw it at the wall but instead, heads further into the house, turning to face Dave when she reached the middle of the living room.

"You really don't need to stay," she tells him, "I... want to be alone..."

"Of course," he nods, "If you need anything."

"I'll call you." she finishes with a small smile, and he accepts it, leaving with a smile of his own and once the door shuts, she inhales, forcing herself to walk into the bedroom, her eyes landing on the bed, their bed, his white t-shirt still in a ball on the bed from where he'd thrown it at her that morning after getting back from his run, she can still hear their laughter, as though their happiness haunts the now silent house. Without the energy to even get undressed, she climbs into the bed, the scent of him overclouding her as she lays her head into his pillow, fresh tears rolling down her eyes and she turns, lays on her back with her eyes to the celling and she places her hand on her flat stomach.

"I don't know what to do," she whispers, before letting herself cry once more, accepting her new reality, one where she no longer has him, one where he no longer exists.

His funeral is small, the team, Haley and Jack, his brother and some other people he met during his time at the FBI.

It remains a blur, the service, the burial, the speeches, all of it, similar to the three weeks leaning up to it, it all merges together.

Haley finds her at the wake, hiding in Dave's overly large kitchen picking at a piece of bread, the selection of food making her nauseous.

"Hey," the blonde woman says, apologising when the other startles before turning. "How are you?"

"Getting by," she smiles, placing the plate on the counter, "How are you? How's Jack?"

"I think... he finally accepts it," she says sadly, "He said goodnight to him while looking up at the sky last night, which was..." she trails off, shaking her head as tears well in her eyes. "But we'll get through it. We all will."

Emily can only smile, scared that if she spoke, she'd cry.

"Have you made a decision?" Haley asks quietly, casting an eye to her still flat stomach when Emily frowns.

"What—" she questions, "How do you know?"

"I've been pregnant with a Hotchner baby," she smiles, "I know the signs." she adds and Emily looks down, overwhelmed by a feeling of complete jealousy, can't help the way it rises up in her as she realises Haley got the pregnancy experience she would kill for. One shared with a man she loved. The very same man who should have been here, with her. And Haley realises her mistake the moment her head drops.

"God, Emily, I'm... I'm sorry, that was... I—"

"It's fine." she smiles, looking up again, "But, no, I haven't." she tells her.

"Whatever you decide, I want you to know that.. I want you in Jacks life." she says, "He loves you and..." she stops, "I'd like to be apart of your... their life, should you decide to keep it. For you. For Jack. Aaron isn't here but.. It's still Jack's sibling and they should have a family. You both should." she tells her, smiling at the woman as she looks at her, "No matter what you decide, you're not alone, Emily. You'll always have a place in Jack's life... In our life."

She's silent for a moment, before she reaches for the blondes hand, squeezing it gently, "Thank you." she whispers.

"How far along are you?"

"I don't know, five, maybe six weeks."

"If you need someone to talk to about this, I'm a phone call away."

"I know," she smiles, "Thank you."

The blonde woman walks around, gently pulling her into her arms.

"You're not alone, Emily." she tells her, "And your baby won't be either."

"I don't know what to do." she whispers, and Haley pulls back, looking at her new friend.

"You do what's best for you, what you can handle." she tells her, "But what you have inside you is the last little bit of Aaron we have, and I don't want you to make a rash decision only to regret it later on." she whispers, "You have a few weeks, and I'm here, the team is here, and we will respect whatever decision you make. But were also here to listen, to advice, whatever you need."

"Thank you," Emily whispers, "I— thank you." is all she can say, and Haley smiles, before Jack calls her and she's gone.

She watches Haley and Jack from the corner of the room, wonders if she can do it, be a mother, raise a child, but then Jack smiles at her, a smile that is all Hotchner and the idea that there is one more part of Aaron left here, one last little bit of them, she thinks that maybe she can, maybe this baby is what was going to save her from suffocating in her unbearable grief.

nine months later

She stops the car on the path, taking a deep breath as she looks ahead at the graveyard, reaching for the ring that rests on her chest as she exhales before getting out of the car. She grabs them from the back sheet, shifts them nicely into her arms and walks over slowly, the route to his grave stone now muscle memory, having done it so many times.

“Hey.” she says gently, looking down at the stone, smiling at the fresh flowers that sit there, each selection a different type from a different person. “I know it’s been a few weeks but…” she bends down slowly, shifting her arms slightly. “I was doing a thing.” she smirks, looking at the one month old in her arms.

“She has your eyes,” she says, “your nose to.” she adds, smiling at her daughter as she grabs her hands forward at the grave. “Say hi daddy,” Emily coo’s, another whisper of hi leaving her lips as her daughter babbles.

“I’ll bring her, as much as I can.” she says, “She’ll know you through me, through Haley, I’m sure Jack has a few stories to.” she looks at the stone sadly, “You should have been here,” she whispers, clearing her throat as tears well put in her eyes, smiling when their daughter reaches out to touch the stone, turning to look at her with eyes that make her heart warm, eyes that remind her of Aaron.

you should have been here remains a constant thought throughout every mile stone, forever a space in their life where he should have been.

A void they never fill.

fin

#hotchniss fic #hotchniss #tw / bomb #tw / radiation #tw / slight connotation to abortion #tw / sad lmfaoo #this is all m’s fault #don’t even blame me #not even my fault i wasn’t even going to write this she forced my hand ✋🏻✋🏻#aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #criminal minds fic

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