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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 year ago

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First Name Basis

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> You and Hotch have never been on First Name Basis, but as the years go on, thing begin to change.

Disclaimer: Mentions and descriptions of blood, bombs, life being in danger, slight spoilers for S4-Ep3 (Minimal Loss - Reader takes Emily's place) (But that isn't the whole fic). BAU found-family fluff, romantic fluff, soft fluff, happy ending. Not Proof Read.

You were on a first name basis with everyone. Everyone save from Hotch.

Of course, he would introduce you with your first name when it came to meeting police departments or official personnel but to anyone else, specifically yourself, he always used your last name.

And you did the same with him. Like the rest of them.

It was always “Sir,” or “Hotch,”.

Never Aaron.

However, this all changed after a case in Colorado.

Yourself and Reid had gone undercover as Child Protection Agents. And it wasn’t long until things went wrong. An unknown police raid meant everyone was taken underground. And a media segment revealed that someone was FBI.

Between yourself and Spencer, you took the rapt. You weren’t willing to watch him get shot and die.

On the other side of the planted bug, the team could hear everything.

And it was killing Hotch.

And Rossi could see it.

They all could.

His own mind was fighting against listening because he had to, and not because you were being beaten.

A small grunt left you as you were thrown into something, and then a crash came. A mirror most likely. More grunts and one scream before…nothing.

It was the first time in a long time his emotions had started pushing to the surface.

Every day, he had to become an emotionless yet empathetic profiler. But at that moment…he didn’t know what he was. He was a profiler, a friend, a…he didn’t know what he was.

“Y/n…”

His voice was barely audible. A hair above a whisper.

But Rossi saw it.

Even if Aaron didn’t know it yet, Rossi knew.

Then you spoke.

“I can take it.”

There were more sounds of fighting before another.

“I can take it.”

“She’s antagonising him!” Derek shouted.

“No, she’s not.”

“She’s talking to us.” Hotch told them both. “She’s telling us not to come in.”

And he didn’t.

It was killing him not to do so, but he didn’t.

But the moment he got a chance, writing the time of “3 am” on the takeaway box, he wouldn’t be turning back.

When he finally saw you, a wave of relief washed over him. And the same happened for you, too.

Once you both caught clear sight of one another, you ran towards him.

He could see the dried blood on your face, partly washed away. And your eye was bruised. And your arms were cut up, most likely from the mirror that had broken.

But you were alive.

Finally reaching him, you hugged him. And he hugged you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I will be. Where’s Morgan and Reid?”

“They’re inside-”

The place blew up.

Hotch covered you a little, both of you feeling the aftershock of the bomb. The hand you kept on his shoulder pulled him down a little with you. But after you made sure the other was alive, you both turned back to the building. And you started walking closer to it.

“Morgan! Reid!”

They stood up.

“Oh, thank god.”

Making your way up the stairs, you met a coughing Morgan and Reid before Reid finally stood tall and you hugged him.

After that case, everything seemingly went back to normal.

Until another case came, only a few months later.

A bomb had been planted in a building. And, when tracking the Unsub into another one, yourself and Hotch had found yourselves stuck.

The Unsub held a trigger, and by the looks of it, he was wearing one.

But you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

Something wasn’t right.

“So, what happens next? You blow yourself up? What happened to “getting all the glory”? That’s what you said, isn’t it? In your message. It was all about the glory.”

Yourself and Hotch took another step forward, but then he unzipped his jacket.

“Another step and I take my finger off the trigger.” He warned.

Neither of you moved, but your gaze did switch.

The bomb the Unsub was wearing wasn’t one you recognised. It wasn’t his type.

By the time SWAT and Bomb Disposal met you at the top of the building, it wasn’t long before he just…gave up.

“He took hostages from the last site.”

“But we found them all.”

Hotch nodded in agreement. “I still want to do a sweep just in case.”

“I’ll come with you.”

By the time you both reached the fourth floor, you still couldn’t shake the feeling.

And just as Hotch reached a small storage unit, it clicked.

“It was a fake.”

“What?”

“The bomb, around his chest. It’s a fake.”

“Why fake a bomb and then give yourself up?”

Then it clicked with the both of you.

“How many agents are in this building?”

“Enough to keep this case in the news for the next fifty years.”

“We need to clear the building now.”

By the time you both reached the floor, calling for every agent to clear the building, someone came and found Hotch.

“We found his briefcase. You’re gonna want to see this.”

Walking over, both yourself and Aaron peered inside. There were plans, memos, and enough cash to give him a whole new life in any country he could possibly want.

“Get all of this processed as soon as you can.”

And Hotch walked away.

But you stayed.

However, the longer you stayed, the bigger that gnawing feeling in your stomach grew again.

And once you finally lifted a pile of cash, you saw it.

A watch with a timer.

“Morgan! Clear the area, now!”

People started running but when you did so, Hotch was still in his place.

“Aaron!”

Grabbing his arm on your way past, you both started running. And whether it was luck, or fate or…whatever it was. Yourself and Aaron managed to clear the site fast enough so as to not die from the explosion.

You both were propelled forward, and landed, rolling onto the ground. And for a few moments, were stunned from the blast.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, managing to catch your breath. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“I think so.”

Once you were able to open your eyes, you sat back on your heels and took a look at Hotch. He was sitting in a similar position to you, except he was bleeding.

You pushed yourself closer to him, “Jesus, Hotch. You’re bleeding.”

Once you touched it, he seemed to feel it and tried to move his head away from your hand, but you pulled him back.

“Don’t move.”

Through your wire, you called for a medic.

“Y/l/n, I’m fine.”

“Hotch, you’re bleeding. You’re not fine.”

“So are you.”

You shook your head and turned away for a moment, pulling out your pocket knife and cutting the torn piece of your t-shirt.

“Wait.”

Hotch took the cloth from your hands before tearing it into two and handing you a piece back, but keeping one for himself.

Just as you pressed the cloth to his head, he did the same for your cut. There wasn’t much blood coming from your head, so once he knew that had slowed at least, he dabbed at the wound on your arm before tying the piece tight around your arm.

Once the medics finally reached you both, you told them what injuries Hotch had and might have.

“Check her over, too. She’s got a cut on her head. She could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

The medic had helped you up from the floor and when they did so, you felt a little dizzy.

Hotch didn’t even have to say anything.

“Shut up.”

Thankfully, the next time either of you talked on a first name basis was when on a short vacation.

Considering the fact that no-one of the team was due to go on holiday or drive out of state for at least three more days, Penelope Garcia took it upon herself to plan a small getaway for the entire team that meant even if they got called back (as you all usually would), you would have, at least, a break away.

So, on a random Friday morning, you all drove to the beach.

And it was fun, to say the least.

By the time you arrived, you parked next to Will’s car. Both himself and JJ were getting Henry ready along with the beach bags and diaper bags. From what you could tell, everyone else was already on the beach.

“Need some help?”

JJ nodded. “That would be great.”

“Hi, Henry. Is this his first trip to the beach?”

JJ smiled and nodded. “It is.”

“We did try and take him a few weeks ago but then he got a fever.” Will told you.

“Well, it’ll all be worth it.”

Will handed you a couple of the bags whilst he carried the rest and JJ carried Henry, along with her beach bag, onto the beach.

The minute you spotted Morgan flirting with a group of women a few feet from the water, you spotted Jack playing in the sand with Emily and Penelope. Spencer was trying to avoid the sun and Hotch was finishing setting up the area with a couple of windbreakers and chairs, with Rossi.

And once you, JJ and Will arrived; the two dads continued setting up with the addition of sun parasols.

It wasn’t long before Jack had come running up to get his dad and yourself to join him. JJ handed you Henry for a moment whilst she dug through the diaper bag to find the fruit pouches she had brought with her.

From behind you, Aaron set up another parasol giving both yourself and Henry shade.

“I’ve put Henry’s fruit pouches in the cooler. Ready to go?”

Lifting her son from your arms, JJ carried Henry down to the water whilst Will grabbed his camera. And yourself and Aaron joined Jack, Emily and Penelope.

By the end of the day, you had all swam in the water, built sandcastles, sunbathed, read and even been chased by Morgan when he realised yourself. Reid and Hotch had been hustling him in a game of football.

And at some point after all of that, you must have fallen asleep because you woke up to someone lightly shaking your shoulder.

“Y/n, hey, y/n…”

As you slowly came around, you realised it was Hotch.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.”

It was odd.

His voice was soft. It was rare, if slightly unbelievable, that Hotch showed this side of him. The one he had for Jack. The one he had for those he held close to his heart.

“The others went for some food, they should be back soon. Garcia said she knew your order. Pizza with fries and a side of pickles.”

“That’s my girl.” You said with a sleepy smile.

“Pickles? With Pizza? Really?”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.”

Then he laughed. “Okay, I won’t.”

You smiled at his laughter. And then you thought. In all the years you knew him, you couldn’t think of a time where you had heard him laugh. Sure, you’d seen him smile a little over the years. But before The Beach…you had never heard him laugh.

And it was like music to your ears.

Unknown, at first, but then very quickly became your favourite song.

By the time the others got back, Jack was excited you were awake and ran over to you, jumping towards you and you fell back with him in your arms.

Aaron laughed again, “Jack, let Y/n breathe.”

“Penelope got you pickles.”

“Extra pickles.” She said as she handed you the pizza box and takeaway tub with fries and pickles.

“Have I ever told you you’re a saint?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well you are a Saint, Penelope Garcia.”

“She has to be, for buying you pickles with pizza.” Morgan added.

The rest of the evening passed with stories, smiles and even more laughter.

It was also after that day you noticed when Hotch called you by your name. It hadn’t clicked with you right away, when he woke you up. But when you fell asleep in the round table room after more than 30 hours of work, you noticed it more.

Usually, whenever you fell asleep when case hours ran over, you would be jolted awake by someone (typically Hotch) calling your last name.

But since The Beach, you were woken up with a soft touch to your arm, shaking you lightly, before he said your first name.

“Go home, get some rest.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

You grumbled, sitting up. “By the time I get home, I’ll be on my way back.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine. But you can use the sofa in my office. It’s better than your desk.”

“Thanks, Hotch.”

However, a few months later, something else changed.

A case had been brought into the roundtable room, and everyone was there. Except for you.

“Not like Y/l/n to be late.” Rossi said, pulling out his chair.

“Try her again.” Hotch told Garcia.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Maybe she’s just catching up on sleep.” JJ offered.

“Why would she be catching up on sleep? We all landed back here two nights ago.”

“Is she dating?” Morgan asked.

Hotch looked up.

“No, but her neighbours are.” JJ told them.

“Ooh, that’s gotta be tough.” Prentiss said. “Back in college, I had a roommate the same. Many sleepless nights. That was when I bought my first pair of noise cancelling headphones.”

Garcia called you three more times.

“We’ll continue with the case,” Hotch told everyone. “We can catch her up when she wakes up.”

Except two hours later, you still hadn’t picked up.

And then Hotch got a phone call.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going to find Y/n,” Hotch told Rossi as he passed him.

“Do you know where she is?”

“A good idea.”

“I’ll come with you.”

After thirty minutes, and eventually passing the turn for your apartment complex, Rossi spoke up.

“Her apartment-”

“I know, but she won’t be there.”

“Then where is she?”

“She has a second home.”

Rossi didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but notice that Aaron knew the way, without having to put anything into the GPS.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Hotch sighed a little. Part of him didn’t want to, because he didn’t know if you would want anyone to know. But he’d gone this long without telling Rossi.

“There was a crash this morning. Don’t worry, she wasn’t hurt. But one of her friends was. They’re okay, too. They’re being kept in the hospital for a few days but were more worried about Y/n’s reaction.”

“How did she react?”

“She didn’t.”

“Well, that’s not good.”

Pulling up outside of your home, Aaron stepped out and rushed towards the door, finding the spare key and letting himself in. The doorbell camera would have let you know they were there.

And then he called your name.

Rossi took in the structure and the decoration of your home. He didn’t know you owned a property outside of your apartment, but by the looks of it, you spent more time outside of work here than you did at your apartment.

There were photos of yourself with your friends, as well as the team. It was tidy, and the place smelt of blueberries and cinnamon.

Turning around the bottom of the stairs, Aaron took them two at a time before reaching the top and when he did, Rossi could see him standing on the landing, as well as stall when you called back.

“Aaron?”

Coming from out of your room, you walked down the hall and Rossi watched as Aaron’s demeanour changed. In the car, he had been tense. In fact, he had been tense since you hadn’t walked into the office.

But standing at the top of the stairs, hearing your voice as well as seeing you, he relaxed.

And his voice became softer.

“Hey,”

You walked towards him and he hugged you instantly.

“How did you find me?”

“The hospital called. The nurse said Abby was worried about you. Are you okay?”

Aaron moved back a little to examine your face. You had been crying. Your eyes were a little puffy and your cheeks were tear-stained.

With his thumb, he wiped away the streaks and you melted into his touch for a second.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

You nodded, “I just…it scared me, you know?”

Aaron nodded. “What do you need?”

“A hug?”

A light smile graced his lips for a moment. “I can do that.”

And he embraced you, tightly. Securely.

Rossi smiled for a moment before quietly walking away to snoop through your house. And by the time you both walked downstairs, you hand in Aaron’s, Rossi was in the kitchen.

“Next time Penelope tries to arrange a dinner party, we’re holding it here.”

“So long as you cook.”

“But I don’t see any-”

You and Aaron gave each other a knowing look before you moved and opened up two cabinet doors. It contained three different spice racks, a selection of dry herbs and all standard ingredients to make any one of Rossi’s signature sauces.

He’d given you enough recipes over the years (not that you didn’t have to work to get them – there had been so many coffee runs) that you made sure you always had the main ingredients needed, and you could always pick up fresh ones on your way home.

“You’re not the best snooper.”

“I’m a profiler. Not a detective.”

“You’re still an FBI Agent.” Aaron added, backing you up.

“So, sue me.”

After that case, nothing else changed.

Both yourself and Aaron remained on a first name basis. Especially considering that two years later, you and Aaron started to share the same last name.

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