purpleandyellowthings

[purpleandyellowthings]

“what’s your dream job?” um to be aaron hotchner’s stay at home wife

[purpleandyellowthings]

Can I just get one hug from this man …. Please

[purpleandyellowthings]

The Secret Girlfriend Theory (6)

Part six out of six! This is the last chapter for PART ONE of the Secret Girlfriend Theory. 2764 words and trigger warnings for extreme violence, injury, death, kidnapping, themes typical of criminal minds, gun violence, hospital stay, and some allusions to sex

Chapter Six: The Music In The Song

Mia awoke, blinking slowly. The lights above her were blinding, and once again a piece of her brain attempted to convince her that she had died, but her hand was being held firmly, keeping her from floating away. Aaron’s hand was warm, which meant that he was alive, which meant that when she turned her head, he would be there, breathing and safe.

She did eventually turn her head, and found SSA Aaron Hotchner asleep in the guest chair, his neck bent uncomfortably, drooling. Mia giggled and squeezed his hand once, twice, then used all her strength to tug on his arm.

“Aaron?” She asked lightly. Her voice turned sing-songy. “Aaron.”

“Yes, my love?” Aaron replied sleepily.

Then he was jerking awake and Mia yelped in surprise.

Aaron was staring at her, that same intense look he always wore, except this was the happiest she’d ever seen that expression go. He was intensely happy. Intensely relieved.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Mia said, tears welling up. “I was so scared for you.”

Aaron gave an incredulous laugh. “You were scared for me? Honey, you were targeted by a stalker and would-be killer.”

“So were you,” she shot back.

“I’m going to let the nurses know you’re awake,” Aaron said, kissing her forehead as an apology for separating from her. He poked his head out of the recovery room and said something to someone nearby, then came right back and grabbed her hand again.

“How are you feeling?” She asked him, gently reaching up to examine the scrapes along his face and arms.

“Okay, you’re going to have to stop taking all the words out of my mouth,” Aaron chided. “I feel fine. How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” Mia answered honestly. “But not, like, terribly.”

A nurse came in and introduced a Dr. Kollins, a tall, gorgeous woman, wearing a badge that said ‘NUERO’ on it. Aaron shook Dr. Kollins’ hand professionally and said, “Her head hurts.”

“I bet,” Dr. Kollins said sympathetically. “Mia, is it okay if we do some quick exercises?”

Mia agreed, hoping to God that the doctor didn’t mean actual exercise. But it was simple stuff, honestly. The nurse checked her pupils and her vitals. The doctor asked questions like “What year is it? Can you tell me your full name? Can you tell me your parents’ names? Do you know this man’s name?”

When Mia passed with flying colors, the questions got harder. “Do you remember being attacked? Do you remember how you got injured? Do you remember hitting your head? What else got hurt in the attack? How many flights of stairs?”

Lastly, the friendly nurse asked, “Name a celebrity you think is handsome,” as a way to make Mia smile.

Aaron interceded, “That’s not going to work, she never remembers actors’ names even when she’s not concussed—”

“Tom Selleck,” Mia answered, making the nurse and Dr. Kollins howl with laughter.

Eventually, through her giggles, Mia raised Aaron’s hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles softly. He broke his serious demeanor and softened to her, leaning over to rub her cheek with his free hand. She could feel the greasiness of her skin, which she immediately bemoaned to her boyfriend.

            “When can I go home and shower?” Mia asked the doctor.

            Dr. Kollins smiled sympathetically, and Mia greatly appreciated how the woman was sympathetic without being condescending.

            “You have a concussion, but the lack of amnesia is a really good sign. While your brain heals, you might have some brain fog or confusion, as well as dizziness and some minor balance issues. The balance issues would make standing to shower difficult, and the confusion makes bathing dangerous. You can do either as long as you’re supervised, or if you’d prefer to be by yourself, we recommend taking a chair into the shower and sitting down for as much of it as possible,” Dr. Kollins explained. “Concussion might also mean having trouble sleeping, but also a lack of energy for the first few weeks. We’ll have several follow-up appointments to track your progress, but your prognosis is hopeful.”

            “Alright,” Mia said. “So I can go home?”

            Aaron grimaced, and Mia braced herself. “You gave me the good news first, didn’t you?”

            This time the nurse explained, his voice gentle. “You sustained a rib contusion from the stairs. We have you on some pain meds right now, but once they wear off, you’ll need to spend several weeks taking life very slowly. The area isn’t swollen right now due to the anti-inflammatories in your system, but you should expect some swelling, tenderness, and overall bruising. We’d like to keep you here for at least two days to ensure your lungs don’t get infected, and we’ll teach you some breathing exercises while you’re in as well.”

            “But I didn’t break any bones?” Mia asked incredulously. “That’s basically a miracle right? I was thrown down the stairs, twice.”

            Aaron squeezed her hand. “There’s also the matter of the bite on your right arm.”

            The memory of being bitten resurfaced, and Mia wanted to sink back into the pillow.

            “Its an occlusion bite, which means the attacker successfully broke the skin of your arm. Most human bites aren’t super serious, though we always encourage getting checked out if the skin tears,” Dr. Kollins explained. “But you were bitten hard, and a large chunk of flesh was ripped out. The area has a minor infection, which we would really like to see respond better to antibiotics before you go home.”

            “Infected,” Mia repeated. “You’re saying the least painful part is the part that’s giving me the most trouble now?”

            “The least painful part?” Aaron asked curiously. “The stairs hurt more than teeth?”

            “At least to me, yes,” Mia responded.

            “Human teeth aren’t very sharp, relative to other animals in the animal kingdom,” the nurse added. “Metal stairs, on the other hand…”

            “Point taken,” Aaron said.

            “Do you have any questions so far?” Dr. Kollins asked.

            “Am I allowed visitors?” she asked meekly.

            “Of course,” Dr. Kollins said warmly. “Agent Hotchner is even welcome to stay the night as long as he sleeps on the provided cot.”

            “Just so we have a timeline,” Aaron interrupted. “Once the infection in her arm gets better and her lungs stay strong, she can come home?”

            Dr. Kollins nodded. “Worst case scenario, two weeks,” she said. “Best case, maybe four or five days.”

            Aaron nodded, and Mia could tell he wasn’t happy that she would be here for several more days.

            “But once you get home, its not quite life like usual,” Dr. Kollins said. “If we want full range of mobility and quality of life as before, we need to focus on healing properly.”

            “Don’t worry,” Mia reassured them. “I’m not like Aaron here, I actually listen to medical advice when I’m hurt.”

            Aaron frowned, but the doctor and nurse laughed.

            “I listen,” he defended weakly.

            “Oh, please,” Mia rolled her eyes, even though it hurt quite a bit to do so. “You were once in danger of losing your hearing completely and still went into the field and had a gun fired right next to your head.”

            Dr. Kollins shook her head disapprovingly, but she was still smiling. “We have a small shower here in the room, but again, please be careful. Don’t remove the bandage around your arm and let us know when you want to go so we can be the ones to remove the IVs and reinsert them.”

            “Can I go now?” Mia begged, asking Aaron more than she was asking the staff.

            Aaron gave her an imperceptible nod just as the nurse agreed, jotting down a note in her chart. “I’ll be back with a fresh gown to change into, and we’ll get you going on that right away,” he said. “We can also page a female nurse to come and assist you if you’re more comfortable with that.”

            Mia waved her hand casually. “Aaron will take good care of me,” she said knowingly.

            Aaron lowered his voice. “My love, if you’d rather have a woman help you, that’s totally okay with me. Just because you’re hurt doesn’t mean you have to give me full access to you. You’ve got options here.”

            Mia grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged until he was close enough to kiss. “You’re such a gentleman.”

            “Literally bare minimum,” he responded.

            “Can I also brush my teeth?” She wondered.

            Aaron said, “I’ve already got your skincare routine and everything else in the bathroom.”

            After a few minutes, the nurse returned and handed Aaron a little plastic bag with a fresh gown inside it, then began slowly disconnecting Mia from all the tubes and needles.

            “There’s a panic button near the toilet just in case,” the nurse told them. “There’s no lock on the room door but I can stand out there for at most three minutes so you can get undressed without being bothered.”

            “Thank you sir,” Mia said gratefully.

            “Thank you,” Aaron repeated.

            The nurse gave them a friendly nod and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Mia could still see his shadow beneath the crack of the door, and she let herself relax momentarily.

            “How lucky am I to be here?” She asked rhetorically.

            “Not as lucky as me,” Aaron murmured.

            Mia hummed to herself, reflecting on the past few days while Aaron carefully removed her gown and tossed it before carrying her bridal-style to the bathroom. He placed her on her feet gently before stripping down to just his underwear, which made Mia laugh.

            “It’s okay, Aaron. I know you won’t try to jump my bones in the shower,” she assured him. “You can take them off.”

            Aaron got the water running and made sure the temperature was to her liking before saying, “I’m keeping them on for my protection, not yours,” he teased. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the feral one in this relationship.”

            “Feral?” Mia squeaked. “I am not!”

            Aaron shot her a look before gently placing her under the water. Standing was difficult, so Mia leaned on him as much as she could without him fully holding her up, and the pressure he took definitely relieved some of the pain.

            “You’ve never once seen me naked without begging for it,” he teased.

            Mia felt her whole flush with heat, and it wasn’t just because of the hot shower water.

            “Are you talking dirty to me?” she whispered scandalously. “In a hospital?”

            “No,” he answered sternly, his hands gently tilting her head back to wet her hair so he could shampoo it.

            She pouted, the hilarious look on his face worth every bit of energy that this teasing was taking from her.

            “But I like it when you talk me through it,” she admitted, biting back a laugh as his expression went from focused determination to outright pain.

            He flipped open the bottle of shampoo and said, “I know you do. Step forward for me.”

            She stepped forward with him, and she was so thankful that he could support most of her weight without even budging.

            Her arms wrapped around his middle but his arms had to release her to wash her hair. Just standing still was painful, and she pressed kisses into his chest for comfort.

            “See?” He teased quietly. “Feral.”

            He instructed her to tilt her head back again, and as the water rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, Aaron moved his hands back underneath her to provide stability. The immediate relief had a sigh leaving her lips, even as she winced in pain.

            “What did Annalise do to you?” She asked gently.

            Aaron held her for a few minutes and then released her once more to put conditioner in, letting it soak through her hair while he lathered soap onto a sponge and began to clean her. The soap smelled clinical, but she was glad to be clean.

            “It’s PH neutral and scent free,” Aaron said to her quietly, as if he knew how hard she was fighting to stay awake and upright.

            “Go ahead,” she murmured, widening her stance.

            When all the soap had been rinsed off and her hair free of any product, Aaron finally answered. “She never really touched me. I got the sense she was afraid to, like touching me would ruin the delusion that she had in her head. She threatened me in the flower shop, told me if I didn’t get in her car she would shoot up the whole street. We drove around for bit, even through a cemetery, where she tried to kiss me but got herself too worked up about it. Then she told me to drive and held the gun at me and forced me to drive to our new place, where she told me she would meet me in an hour.”

            “She left you alone?” Mia asked.

            “I played along with her delusion as much as I understood it. Never rejected her, never made her feel like she was doing anything wrong. So she trusted me not to run when she left to go target you, and I was trying to find a phone to call someone and warn them to get to you when the team showed up.”

            Mia whimpered as he lifted her up again, placing her on the mat outside the shower and towel drying her.

            “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

            Aaron put the new gown on her and tied it comfortably. His non-answer was answer enough, and he was ready when Mia turned to cry into his chest.

            “Was it me?” Mia asked. “Did I shoot her?”

            “No, my love. She was shot in the back. They pronounced her dead upon arrival to the hospital.”

            “The only people behind her were you and Derek,” Mia said. “And you didn’t have your gun.”

            “No, I didn’t.”

            “Derek really went from hating my guts and thinking I was an unsub to killing someone to protect me, all in a few hours?” Mia asked.

            Hotch nodded. “Which reminds me, my entire team is getting scolded for treating you so harshly.”

            “Emily was nice,” Mia mumbled. “And Rossi eventually got on board.”

            “After accusing you a being a gold-digger,” Aaron laughed.

            “Little does he know,” Mia joked. “I make more than you.”

            Aaron scowled. “By a few thousand. Its not that big of a deal.”

            “Aw,” she cooed. “My poor alpha male having to deal with not being the breadwinner.”

            Aaron smacked her butt playfully. “Don’t make fun.”

            “Or what?” Mia teased, but her voice was tired and her body exhausted from all the standing and walking.

            Aaron carried her back to her bed and then went back into the bathroom to change into dry underwear and put his clothes back on. When he came back he said, “Or I’ll only ever buy you this scent of soap again.”

            She pouted and then grimaced when she remembered that she’d wanted to brush her teeth.

            “Its okay, my love, I don’t mind,” Aaron said honestly.

            “I mind,” she argued tiredly. “We both know your whole team is out there right now, wanting an update. I was basically crying the whole time I met them the first time, and this isn’t going to be much better. I’d like to at least not have bad breath.”

            “Compromise?” Aaron offered. “You can swish some mouth wash from the bed?”

            When the team filed in, Mia was getting all her IV’s replaced while Hotch braided her wet hair. JJ let Jack loose first, and the boy sprinted to Mia and was about to launch himself on the bed when his father caught him midair and placed him gently in Mia’s lap, reminding him to be careful.

            “So how are you doing?” Emily asked, feeling brave enough to come up since she was the only one Hotch didn’t glare at.

            “Infected bite mark, rib contusions, and a concussion,” Mia rattled off.

            “All things with very low mortality rates,” Reid said in an attempt to be helpful.

            Derek shot his friend a look and said, “What did we just talk about in the waiting room?”

            Mia giggled as Reid responded, “You said not to talk about mortality rates but I figured you meant only if the statistics were bad.”

            “He’s fine,” Mia said, giving Reid an assuring smile. “That’s not what any of you are in trouble for.”

            Rossi gave an apologetic look and opened his mouth to apologize just as Mia turned to Hotch and said, beaming, “They gave Jack McDonalds.”

[purpleandyellowthings]

The Secret Girlfriend Theory (5)

Chapter five out of six for part 1 of The Secret Girlfriend Theory! 2808 words and trigger warnings for extreme violence, fighting, themes typical of criminal minds, alcohol use, gun violence, death

Chapter Five: The Woman in the Mirror

            Soon had come quickly enough. Two rum and cokes later, Mia was taking a cab home and checking her email on her phone. There, she discovered that Aaron had indeed emailed her, explaining his job and why he’d had to leave in such a hurry. She emailed back her phone number, and as soon she got home, he was calling her.

            One call turned into two and then four, and then they were calling each other all the time, her in the mornings and him just before bed. Neither of them were much for texting, so sometimes the phone calls would be short and sweet, quick little updates about what she had had for lunch and how his workday was going.

            She’d met Jack after several months of dating, and Jack seemed to like her well enough that Aaron had officially asked to be her boyfriend the very next day. Over time, her love for both of them grew, and one day Jack had mentioned how he never wanted Mimi to go home, and then Aaron was asking her to move in with him.

            A few compromises later, and they were getting a penthouse together, their own little paradise. Jack had attempted to call her ‘mom’ once, which she’d quickly corrected, but thought that the gesture was sweet.

            And now she was calling his son her own and picking him up from school every day and starting to put a little money away to help with college. Now she was pooling her money with his for a down payment on a gorgeous house on the east side of the city. Now she was grocery shopping with him every Sunday morning, fixing little snacks for Jack to take to school and rushing home, excited to cook dinner with him, or just cook for him if he was running late.

            Aaron had become much better about correctly guessing things about her, forcing her to learn things about herself that she never would’ve guessed before him. He was especially successful in terms of intimacy, always knowing when she preferred not to be touched before she could even put it into words, as well as knowing exactly where to touch her when she was in the mood.

            There were times when he was gone for days at a time, but Mia had always valued her alone time. Occasionally, Aaron would be away on cases at the same time that Haley’s sister wanted time with Jack, and Mia would get the whole penthouse to herself. She’d throw sleepover parties and have girlfriends over, and they would drink and gossip in ways Mia never did when she was younger. Or she’d simply put on music as loud as she dared and dance around, wearing underwear or a costume or the dress she’d splurged on with her first ever paycheck but never had a chance to wear out because it was too much for informal events and not enough for formal.

            Every few Saturdays, if Aaron was home, he’d take Jack out for a father-son day, and Mia would happily go meet her father for lunch, or go to the library on the other side of town and disappear into a book for the afternoon, or go to the dreadful gym that she usually only went to when Aaron dragged her.

            And life wasn’t perfect, certainly, but it was hard to think about the bad stuff when she was so, so terrified of losing it all.

            Mia broke out of her thoughts just in time to see Jack nodding off atop his worksheet. She couldn’t help but giggle a little, trying not to jostle him too much as she picked him up and carried him to Aaron’s office, where she knew there was a couch much more comfortable for Jack’s little head. She covered him with her blazer and allowed herself only a few minutes to breathe in her boyfriend’s scent, clinging to the air in his office like it missed him as much as she did.

            There was a mirror on the bookshelf behind his desk, and Mia was examining the books beside it when she noticed a figure moving behind her. She spun around with a gasp, immediately trying to figure out the fastest way to get in front of Jack.

            “Don’t move,” the woman’s voice said. “Or I’ll shoot.”

            Mia glanced down and saw the woman’s hand in her purse, but her arm was crooked, holding the purse at such an angle that Mia knew the purse was merely concealing the gun. “Okay,” she squeaked.

            ���Take it all off,” the woman hissed, stepping out from the shadows.

            It was Annalise, but it wasn’t. Mia stared in shock, her mind not processing.

            “The jewelry,” Annalise said. “Take it off!”

            Mia flinched as the assailant raised her voice, but Jack did not stir. She carefully raised her hands, slowly, and removed her necklace, then her earrings and her bracelets, putting them all on Aaron’s desk.

            “Come closer,” Annalise said. “We’re going to take a walk.”

            When Mia was about five feet away, Annalise ordered her to stop. She fished in her back pocket with her free hand and pulled out a fold slip of paper, tossing it on the floor between them.

            “There,” Annalise said. “Pick it up and sign it.”

            Mia’s hands shook as she knelt down to retrieve the paper, opening it carefully.

            It was a note, explaining to Aaron that she was leaving him and never wanted him to try to contact her. It was typed, but there was a place for her signature. She signed it slowly, her heart pounding and blood rushing in her ears. She placed it next to the abandoned jewels and tried not to cry.

            “Good,” Annalise said. “Now lets go.”

            Annalise led her out of the office and down the stairs to the bullpen, ordering her to look and act natural. Mia was praying to God that she hadn’t just seen the last of her son, while simultaneously thanking Him for not involving Jack in this.

            “Why are you doing this?” Mia whispered, Rossi’s words from earlier echoing in her head. Knowing what the suspect knows will lead us to them, which means knowing what Annalise wanted would lead to a resolution that hopefully didn’t end with anyone dead.

            Annalise’s answer came in the form of a sneer. “He doesn’t love you. And you don’t deserve for him to.”

            Mia cycled through her options silently. She could fight back, but there were a lot of people around who could get hurt. She would have to risk waiting until they were alone to fight back, and her priority needed to be getting the gun away from both of them. If they were both weaponless, at least it would be a fairer fight.

            Annalise seemed to be leading her to the stairwell, and Mia’s adrenaline started pumping as she realized this would be her last stand. Once that door shut behind them and they were alone in the stairwell, she would have to fight for her life.

            But her chance didn’t come, because as soon as Mia was facing the stairs, getting ready to turn and fight, Annalise’s hand pushed at her back and Mia was tumbling down the metal stairs.

            She threw her hands up to shield her head, forcing her eyes open despite the urge to squeeze them shut, knowing she needed to look to be able to stop herself as soon as possible, not just wait for the momentum to slow naturally. The initial impact had knocked the breathe out of her, causing her scream to disappear into her throat, but a groan escaped as she rolled to a stop on the next landing.

            Annalise’s footsteps were loud and angry as she stormed down towards her, and Mia wasn’t ready in time to protect herself as Annalise grabbed her by the hair and pulled upwards, forcing Mia to her feet.

            “Did you really think you could make him happy? Only I can do that,” Annalise scolded. She leaned in close but Mia’s tears were blurring her vision. “Don’t you see? He’s loved me this whole time, and only stayed with you out of obligation.”

            Mia cried out as Annalise’s hand released her hair and struck her in the face. The sting of the hit had her hand coming up to cradle her face, which means she was again unprepared as Annalise pushed her down, this time falling backwards down a flight of stairs instead of forwards. Mia couldn’t think fast enough to shield her head this time, and she felt the back of her head strike something, and she knew if she opened her eyes, her vision would be swirling with dizziness.

            Annalise didn’t relent, the pursuit continuing until they were together on the next landing again.

            “I’ll leave!” Mia cried out as Annalise grabbed for her again.

            The words had the intended effect, and Annalise paused, glaring down at her panting victim.

            “I’ll leave him,” Mia offered, knowing without a doubt that she wouldn’t. “And you can have your happily ever after.”

            Annalise sneered. “You wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m going to take you somewhere no one will find you, and rip you apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left of your lying bones but blood and mush.”

            Mia barely heard her, hardly even recognized that Annalise was speaking, too focused on twisting her body until her right arm was free, letting the hair rip out of her scalp, knowing it would mean her life to pull this off.

            She swung as hard as she could, cupping her hand midair just before impacting the side of Annalise’s head. The strike had Annalise letting go of her hair, but Mia just took the opportunity to push her body into a defensive position rather than run away. One foot braced behind her, knowing she was about to get pushed, but there was less strength behind this one as Annalise was dazed from the ear strike.

Mia didn’t budge.

She pushed her left arm forward, her open palm striking Annalise’s face, right underneath her nose. In the same second, Mia delivered her right hand, fingers poised into a claw, to Annalise’s eyes.

Temporarily blinded and dazed, Annalise began to scream profanities, but Mia refocused on the gun, ripping the purse cover off so she could see it and where it was pointing. She grabbed Annalise’s wrist with both hands, forcing the gun to point out and away from both of them, her elbows locked to prevent Annalise from overpowering her.

A shot fired, and Mia flinched as her ears began ringing.

But Annalise was still fighting, biting at the arm closest to her mouth. Mia let her rip out a chunk of flesh, refusing to let go of the wrist holding the gun away from them. She twisted the limb as much as she could in this position until finally Annalise cried out and dropped the gun.

Mia braced herself to hear another shot, but thankfully the gun fell silently, and Mia freed her right hand again, this time driving her hand into the woman’s throat with her fingers in a C-shape.

That move finally took Annalise out for several seconds as she gasped for breath, and Mia wasted no time sprinting down the stairs towards the still live weapon. From her position on the landing beneath Annalise, Mia grabbed the gun and pointed it, panting with adrenaline and pain and fear.

“Stop right there!” Mia ordered. She didn’t really know how to hold a gun, so she just held it like she saw the actors hold the props in TV shows and action movies.

“Or what?” Annalise hissed. “You’ll kill me? Go right ahead.”

“I don’t want to kill you,” Mia pleaded. “I want to help you. Please, let us get you the help that you need.”

“I don’t want your help!” Annalise screamed. Then she reached for something tucked into the waistband of her jeans, flipping open the switchblade with ease.

Mia was not the type of woman to resign herself to simply die, but neither was she the kind of woman who could actually fire on a human being, even if that human being was running towards her on a stairwell, screaming something that sounded awfully like a war cry, swinging a sharp blade that was intended to slash her throat.

But she thought of Aaron and of Jack, of her parents and her big brother, and all her friends who would be so devasted to hear that she’d died alone, in a stairwell, her eyes squeezed shut as she fingered the trigger, attempting to force herself to squeeze and shoot—

BANG!

Mia sobbed, her eyes still squeezed shut, her finger still trying to force itself from the frozen position it was in.

Then someone was wrapping their arms around her and her arms were pushed down, the gun wrestled from her still clamped down hands. Mia wept as she knew these were her last moments. Annalise had taken the gun back. Any second now, the woman would cut her throat or plunge the blade into her heart, or just simply shoot her in the head.

“Open your eyes, baby,” someone was telling her.

It sounded just like Aaron.

Maybe she was already dead, and Aaron was here to take her to the afterlife. But then she realized that meant her love was dead, Jack orphaned, and she began to thrash and scream.

“Mia, sweetheart, open your eyes,” he was saying softly. Someone was helping to pin her down and it made her fight harder, but only for a second, and then the fight was leaving her body so quickly she slumped down.

“Mia,” Aaron said again. “Open your eyes right now, or I will make you drink lagers for the rest of your life.”

Mia’s eyes flew open, not at the threat, but at the liveliness in his voice. He was teasing her. They had just been murdered, brutally, and now he was teasing her? In the afterlife?

“There’s my girl,” he whispered as their eyes finally met.

“You got her?” someone was saying.

When Aaron answered affirmatively, the hold on her arms disappeared, and it occurred to Mia that someone else was there. Someone had crashed their afterlife reunion.

She looked to see who it was, and realized that it was Derek, now walking away from them to wave to someone at the top of the stairwell.

“She’s down here! We need two medics!” He shouted.

Mia’s eyes drifted downwards to Annalise, who was bleeding profusely despite Emily and Rossi’s best efforts to staunch the bleeding.

Then her chin was being directed straight again, and she was staring into Aaron’s eyes. His gorgeous, calculating, worried eyes.

“My love?” He asked softly.

“You’re alive,” she accused him.

“As are you,” he said. “Someone’s coming to help right now, okay?”

There had been a gunshot. Annalise was down when seconds ago, she’d been fighting.

“Annalise first,” Mia ordered weakly, guilt threatening to turn her stomach.

“Don’t worry, miss, there’s enough of us for both of you,” a female medic said as she climbed down to where Aaron was cradling Mia. “Sir, feel free to remain close by but I do need you to back up a little bit.”

Mia started to cry again as Aaron shuffled his position so the EMT had full access to check her over, but was deterred by Aaron’s firm hold on her hand.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised her. “Let the nice people help you.”

She heard it then, the shuffle of feet and the increase of volume above them.

“Bullet tore through the aorta from behind, we need to get her to OR now,” someone was saying.

Another EMT said, “Hang a unit of O-NEG and let the bank know we’re going to need more.”

She’s not going to make it, Mia realized. The EMT directly above her was attempting to check her eyes, but Mia yanked away from both her and Aaron and rolled onto her stomach, pushing herself off the floor with hands and retching.

She could feel Aaron’s hands pulling her hair away just in time, but the heat of everyone around her was making her feel worse, and she started to scream again.

“Sedate her,” Aaron said, attempting to neutralize her arms again to prevent further injury.

The EMT didn’t miss a beat, ordering, “I need her to still.”

There was a pinch on the side of her bicep and Mia cried out again. They were sedating her, right? Shouldn’t she be counting backwards?

Ten.

“J-jack,” she said. Jack had McDonalds for lunch today.

Nine.

“Don’t fight it, Mia. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything else happen to you, okay? You’re safe now.”

Eight.

[purpleandyellowthings]

The Secret Girlfriend Theory (4)

Chapter Four (2236 words)

TW: alcohol use, kidnapping, dark themes, criminal minds typical violence, fighting, death

Chapter Four: Two Years Ago

Mia had been on a lecture circuit through a series of universities and law schools, lecturing future lawyers about her research into lethality assessments for victims of domestic violence and how to best utilize the score throughout a case: when to bring it up in court, when to introduce it as scene evidence or present it as expert testimony, how to use it to leverage a renewal on Orders of Protection, etc. She was on the last leg of the tour, in her home region of D.C.

The bar was called Julie’s, and she’d honestly regretted coming here. Her and her friends had come here once as a group, and they’d had such a good time she hadn’t even noticed how dingy and dank the bar itself was. But one too many students had come up after her lecture to ask her opinion on their personal cases, the details grueling and harsh, that she’d just wanted to go somewhere where she didn’t have to think about any of it.

So she’d gone back to Julie’s and ordered a single drink, a light lager because that’s what one of her exes had always ordered and she didn’t really know what else to try. But the vibes of the place were just as heavy and sad as she felt.

Until SSA Aaron Hotchner came in, his suit ruffled with a hard day’s work, his tie loosened. The first thing she thought about him was ‘that’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen’, and the second was ‘gosh, he looks absolutely exhausted’.

            He’d walked right up to the bar, and the bartender had come right to him despite most of the seats taken by regulars still waiting to order. Mia knew then that this was a man everyone was drawn to.

            His eyes met hers across the bar and she couldn’t help but look away, embarrassed to have been caught staring despite there being no possibly way he’d known she was staring.

            “Excuse me, may I sit here?”

            Mia looked up in time to see his eyes glance over her before reaching her eyes, and she nodded, forcing herself to breathe.

            “Long day?” the stranger asked her.

            “Long month,” she corrected. “How did you know?”

            The man just kind of smiled. “Lucky guess,” he said.

            Mia sipped her lager. “I’d bet the same about you.”

            The bartender delivered his drink just in time. “You’d be correct.”

            They sat in awkward silence for a moment, and Mia thought maybe she should move away, leave the man to drink and relax on his own. But then he was asking her, “How do your feet not hurt in those shoes? I’ve always wondered about the practicality of heels.”

            “Sometimes they do hurt,” she admitted to him.

            “What do you do then?”

            Mia wanted to laugh. This man clearly didn’t care about her shoes. He either really didn’t know how to talk to women, or he was purposely being awkward to put her off.

            “I take them off,” she said simply.

            The pair fell into silence again, and Mia was almost done with her lager. She was considering closing out her tab and leaving, going home to sleep away her anxieties rather than drink them off.

            “So…” the stranger continued, nursing his own glass. “Do you come here often?”

            This time Mia did laugh, and the man’s beautiful brown eyes narrowed, his cheeks turning the faintest pink.

            “Please don’t tell me that’s the best you can do,” Mia teased. “Or are you doing it on purpose?”

            “I am trying,” the man said, his lips turning up slightly. “I’m trying not to scare you off.”

            Mia grinned. “I don’t scare easy. As long as you’re not, like, a serial killer or something.”

            The stranger’s ghost of smile vanished.

            “Are you?” Mia asked, knowing he wasn’t. “Are you a serial killer?”

            “Or something,” he’d said vaguely.

            Mia rolled her eyes. “I’ve met actual serial killers who can pick up women better than this.”

            “What makes you think I’m trying to pick you up?” He said.

            She shrugged. “Another lucky guess.”

            The man took another sip of his drink. Then he leaned in closer and admitted, “I tend to be a little intense. I’m trying to be a gentlemen here.”

            Mia laughed, but this time he seemed to understand that she wasn’t laughing at him. “Please, be intense. Its not fun if its not genuine.”

            “It?” He asked curiously.

            “Talking to people in bars,” she clarified.

            He said, “Alright, alright. Fine.”

            Mia waited patiently as he observed her, finishing her drink. She supposed it should have unnerved her the way he stared, like she was a puzzle he was clicking the pieces of together in his head.

            “So, what was it like growing up in Chicago?” He asked suddenly.

            She blinked in surprise. “I wouldn’t know?”

            The man’s sudden frown made her want to laugh again.

            “Really?” he asked. It was the first sense of insecurity she’d gotten from him.

            Mia quirked a brow. “Do you usually guess someone’s hometown on the first try?”

            “I’m usually close.”

            “Do you want to try again?”

            He stared some more, and she smiled at him.

            “Phoenix, but I maintain that you’ve spent a significant amount of time in Illinois.”

            Mia swirled the last sip of her drink around, knowing she wasn’t going to empty the bottle completely.

            “Phoenix is correct,” she told him. “How’d you know?”

            He merely smiled, and she knew what he would say without him having to say it. Another lucky guess.

            “My turn,” she said, relishing the way his eyes widened.

            She studied him carefully, using the ruse as an excuse to check him out again. Whatever she was going to guess, she didn’t mind getting it correct. Either she was right and he was impressed, or she was wrong and he corrected her, but either way she would learn something new about him, this mysterious and beautiful stranger.

            “You are a…” she trailed off for dramatic effect. “Scorpio.”

            She sat back in her high seat, feigning the satisfaction of knowing she was right.

            The man’s anticipatory expression faded into one of pure competitiveness.

            He said, “You may have grown up in Arizona but you attended higher education in the Mideast.”

            She responded, having no genuine idea what she was talking about, “You spent time in Seattle, didn’t you? Maybe even lived there for a couple years?”

            “Your parents divorced when you were young, and you went from living in one upper middle class home to switching between two lower middle class homes.”

            “You are zero for three,” she informed him with a smile. “How am I doing?”

            “Quite well,” he said stoically, clearly frustrated. “You’re closest with your mother and while you respect your father, you don’t like him.”

            She laughed. “Wrong again, stranger. And stop taking my turn,” she scolded good naturedly. “You work in an office,” she ventured. “As some sort of manager or supervisor.”

            He scowled at her. “Where are you getting this from?”

            “I have no idea,” she said seriously, but a smile was on her lips nonetheless. “Where are you getting all this?”

            “Your behavior in a bar like this is indicative of growing up in a major metro city, and you speak like someone from Illinois, but you smiled at me when I was being, frankly, a bit of a creep, which points to a south or midwestern upbringing,” he explained. “And the way you dress and hold yourself points to a well-mannered home, but something slips when you laugh. I was wrong, evidently, about your parent’s divorce but I maintain that your class standing has changed at least once in your lifetime.

            “And you seem comfortable in your femininity, which implies a safe relationship with your mother, but you’re drinking a lager, something only men traditionally order. Usually when women order a drink like that, they are mimicking someone they respect. Based my assumption about your parents, I took a risk and guessed your father.”

            Mia grinned. “I spent one summer in Chicago, but I haven’t been back since, despite my best efforts to visit. And I did grow up in a well-mannered home, but it was a lower-than-middle class home. My class standing changed when I began working a white collar job.”

            “And your parents?” He asked, his empty glass forgotten beside him as he leaned in to hear her better.

            “I’m quite close with my dad, who doesn’t drink, by the way. And my mom died when I was fourteen.”

            The stranger hesitated for a moment, as if regretting getting them to such a sad conversation. Then he held his hand out and said, “I’m Aaron.”

            “Mia,” she responded, shaking his hand. “Did I really guess all that stuff about you correctly?”

            “November 2nd,” he admitted defeatedly. “And I worked in Seattle before coming here to, as you know, be promoted to supervisor.”

            She grinned, genuinely satisfied with herself. “What do I win?” She teased.

            This time, Aaron fully smiled back, and the force of it made her whole body freeze, needing the time to stop and stare at his beauty.

            “You win a drink,” he said easily. “But I’m ordering you something besides a lager.”

            She frowned. “What’s wrong with my drink?”

            Aaron glared at the offending bottle before turning his eyes back to hers. “That’s not a drink. That’s an ingredient of some sort of poison.” He waved to the bartender, who came right over again.

            “She’ll have a—” he stopped himself. “I can’t believe I’m doubting my ability to order a drink I know you’ll like.”

            She smiled. “As long as its not beer.”

            “How about a rum and coke?” He asked the bartender. The worker nodded and went towards the other end of the bar to grab the coke.

            Mia couldn’t help herself. “I don’t drink soda.”

            Listen, Mia had heard a lot of incredible things in her life. She’d been to concerts and symphonies. She’d heard a newborn baby laugh. She’d listened to rainfall at night, listened to the crowds cheer at football games in college.

            But none of that would ever compare to the awe-inspiring sound of Aaron’s laughter.

            “You know I pride myself on being able to read people, and any other time I’m wrong, I’m furious with myself and with them. But you?” Aaron shook his head. “Why is it that I am so mystified by you defeating the one thing I keep for myself?”

            “I don’t know,” Mia said honestly. “Maybe you like that I’m not someone you can just guess on.”

            Aaron considered her for a moment, and she could’ve sworn she saw his eyes glance down towards her lips. They’d moved awfully close together in the short time they’d been talking.

            “I do like hearing you explain yourself,” he whispered.

            She teased, “Does it bother you that I can read you?”

            He scoffed lightly. “You got lucky.”

            “I got lucky several times in a row,” Mia said, then giggled at a dirty joke she kept in her head.

            “I feel like the lucky one,” Aaron whispered.

            Their faces were so close together that she could’ve moved an inch and been kissing him.

            The sound of a phone ringing broke both of them out of the reverie, and Aaron cursed as he realized it was his.

            “Excuse me,” he said gruffly, stepping away to answer the call.

            By the time he returned, the bartender had given her the rum and coke, and she waited until he was watching to try her first sip.

            “That’s much better,” she said. Then she joked, “You finally got one right.”

            “I got another one right earlier, I just didn’t tell you.”

            Mia took another sip, letting the flavor of her new drink wash away the one of the old. “Go on,” she invited.

            “When I first walked in, I ventured a guess that you are the most beautiful woman in the world,” Aaron said. He hadn’t sat back down, instead choosing to lean over her, his presence dominating and powerful and somehow, comforting instead of domineering.

            Mia blinked, the intensity of his gaze making her blush.

            “Oh,” she said softly.

            “And then I got to see you smile and laugh and glow, and now its more than a guess. Now I am absolutely sure that you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

            Mia couldn’t stammer out a response. He was right, he was a very intense man. But she was right too; it was better that way.

            “I’m sorry, Mia, but I have to go. Duty calls,” Aaron said. “May I please have a way to find you again?”

            Mia blushed even deeper, fishing through her purse and giving him her business card, totally forgetting that it only had her work phone on it and not her personal phone.

            “Thank you,” he said as he took the card from her. He then waved the bartender back over and paid for his drink.

            “What do you do for work that requires you to leave beautiful women behind?” Mia asked, half joking but seriously curious.

            “I’m a profiler for the FBI’s behavioral analysis unit.”

            Mia laughed again, and the sound of it drew his attention to her with a snap, his receipt crumbling in his hand, forgotten.

            “Just like that,” he whispered, to himself more than her.

            “Goodnight, Aaron,” she’d said.

            “Soon, Mia.”

[purpleandyellowthings]

The Secret Girlfriend Theory (3)

Chapter Three

2944 words

TW: alcohol use, kidnapping, dark themes, criminal minds typical violence, fighting, death

Chapter Three: The Interrogation Room

            The interrogation room was cold and dark. Mia sat at an empty table, facing the mirror that she knew people could see her through. She shivered and was thankful that she at least had her blazer on. There was a camera pointed at her in the corner of the room, and the little blinking red light alerted her to being recorded.

            Emily had gotten Jack away from her quickly, and despite Mia calling for him to come back, Morgan had grabbed her arm and led her to this room. The bad feeling in her stomach was turning sour, and even though Mia was still half-hoping it was all a prank and Aaron would walk through the door any second, she was terrified.

            Mia took out her phone and called her boyfriend, willing him to answer.

            “—get it. I need you to…there’s a file. Don’t forget his stuffed animals. I love—”

            The voicemail beeped, but Mia was too shocked to say anything. So she merely hung up. He had sounded so distressed. Worse, it sounded as if the message were meant for her, but she didn’t know what it meant.

            Jack’s stuffed animals? Except his team had taken Jack from her.

            And she didn’t go through his files anymore than he went through hers. It was an unspoken rule in their relationship: they wouldn’t get involved in each other’s work lives. She’d twice had to recuse herself from a case after finding out BAU involvement.

            The door opened just as Mia set her phone down in her lap.

            It was Derek, and he held one hand out.

            Confused, Mia just stared at him.

            “You can’t have devices in here. Hand it over.”

            “What’s going on?” Mia asked him, not outright refusing to comply but not complying either. “Why am I in an interrogation room?”

            An older man came in, and as soon as his eyes met hers, Mia knew it was Agent David Rossi.

            “Let her keep it,” Rossi said, and Derek pulled his hand back.

            Mia instantly clocked this as a technique to gain her goodwill, but why would they need to force that? They were her boyfriend’s coworkers and friends. She held no ill will against them, except maybe for taking Jack from her.

            Derek slammed the door on his way out, and Rossi sighed, sitting across from Mia, the sound of scarping the metal chair across the floor damning.

            “What’s going on?” Mia asked. “I was told you needed my help finding Hotch, and now my son has been taken from me and I’m sitting in a room you put criminals in.”

            David waved his hand dismissively. “It’s a precaution.”

            “A precaution?” Mia repeated, her mind turning over a hundred possibilities.

            “Some others on the team believe that you had something to do with Hotch’s disappearance.”

            Mia felt her blood run cold.

            On the other side of the glass, JJ and Emily watched Mia’s reaction, their hands intertwined for comfort in the dark privacy of the viewing room.

            “She went awfully pale,” Emily commented. “Like she’s seen a ghost.”

            “Or got caught,” JJ argued.

            In the room, Mia whispered, “Are you joking?”

            David shook his head. “I’m very serious. But I want you to know that I believe you had nothing to do with it. I believe you are a victim here, not a perpetrator.”

            Mia looked down at the table. “He’s really missing,” she said softly.

            “I’m on your side here,” David pressed on. “But I need your help convincing the others of your uninvolvement.”

            Mia sniffed, her emotions getting the better of her now that she didn’t have to stay strong for Jack. Tears leaked from her eyes as she agreed, “Alright. How can I help find him?”

            “How long have you been seeing Hotch?” David asked conversationally, handing her a folded tissue from his suit jacket pocket.

            “Almost two years,” Mia answered, taking the tissue gratefully.

            “I’m sure you can understand why the team thinks its weird that we’ve never met you,” David said. “Or even heard about you.”

            Mia sniffed. “That was Aaron’s idea, not mine. He always says he doesn’t want his work in our home, and he’s afraid if I were to be part of his life here, it would inevitably follow us back there.”

            “But something changed?” David prompted.

            Mia nodded, wiping her eyes. “I keep telling him how unfair it is that he’s met all of my coworkers and I’ve only met one of his. He shows up at my work sometimes, takes me on little lunch dates.”

            “And brings you gifts,” David added for her.

            Mia laughed. “Yes, much to the chagrin of my assistants, he often brings me things. Coffee, if its earlier in the morning. Flowers to keep my office lively.”

            “And jewelry.”

            Mia looked confused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, jewelry too.”

            “You seem loathe to admit he buys you jewelry,” David commented.

            “I don’t like to brag about the things he buys me,” Mia said, a little defensively.

            “What do you like to brag about?”

            Mia pulled her elbows off the table, disengaging. Angrily she said, “I brag about how well he treats me, how kind he is. I tell everyone about what a gentlemen he is, what a giver he’s always been. I brag about how much we love each other, Agent Rossi. Jewelry is replaceable. He isn’t.”

            David leaned even more forward to counteract her movement, and even though she knew it was a tactic to intimidate her, it still worked.

            “And you never found it odd that he doesn’t brag about you? Maybe he finds you embarrassing.”

            Mia scoffed.

            “Maybe that’s why he never introduced you to us. Because to him, its not all that you said it is,” David continued.

            “You think you’re the first person to accuse me of using him?” Mia hissed. “You think calling him my ‘sugar daddy’ or whatever is going to upset me? Its not. I know what we have. I know why he kept us a secret. And if you think you can convince me otherwise by emphasizing the two facts you know about our relationship, then you can go fuck yourself.”

            Mia had stopped crying. “Am I being charged with a crime?” She asked directly.

            Rossi leaned back, analyzing her. “No,” he admitted.

            “Then I’m leaving, and I’m taking my son with me. If you or anyone else tries to stop me, I will slap you with a habeas corpus suit so fast the FBI lawyers will shit themselves,” Mia stood. She opened the door and strode out, calling for Jack.

            Emily and JJ met her in the hallway.

            “Mia, wait!” Emily called. “I believe you. Let me take you to Jack.”

            Mia wanted to spit in her face, but refrained. “Rossi said he believed me, and he clearly doesn’t. Why on earth would you think I would fall for that twice?”

            “Who’s the one coworker of his that you have met?” Emily tried again.

            “I met JJ,” Mia said miserably, knowing she would still answer questions if it meant helping them find Hotch.

            “What?” JJ said. “When did we meet? I would remember you.”

            Mia spun around. “I said I’ve met JJ,” she repeated. “I’m sorry, we’ve never met.”

            “But this is JJ,” Emily said. “If you’ve never met her, you’ve never met JJ.”

            All three women exchanged confused glances. David’s voice sounded from the doorway to the interrogation room, “Then you met an imposter. It might’ve been our unsub. We need to get you to a sketch artist right away.”

            This time, they led her to the bullpen and sat her down next to Reid, who was eating a cheeseburger with Jack.

Mia grimaced, “You got him McDonalds?”

Reid glanced up at her nervously, then looked to Rossi.

“It’s not her,” Rossi said with a tone of finality. “But she might’ve met the actual unsub.”

“Hi Mimi!” Jack said, offering her a bite of his burger. Mia declined politely and Jack went back to eating, though his eyes seemed to follow Mia as she walked with Emily to a nearby desk.

“When did this happen?” Emily asked gently.

Mia sighed. “Two weeks ago. JJ came to the apartment and said Hotch had asked her to pick up a file from his office. I let her in and a few minutes later, she walked out with nothing. She said hotch must’ve had it in his briefcase and she was sorry for bothering me, but to pretend we never met because it would ruin Hotch’s goal.”

“What did she look like?” Emily asked, leaning in to comfort her.

“She was white,” Mia said, groaning. “And really pretty. She had brown hair, I think.”

“And did she show you any credentials?” Emily asked gently.

Mia nodded. “She did. It was a badge that looked just like Aaron’s but it said Joanna Jareau and had her picture, too. It looked so real.”

Emily grimaced. “It probably was real, just modified.”

Mia held her head in her hands.

Morgan arrived suddenly to get Emily. “I found the crime scene,” he said gravely.

Mia couldn’t help but follow as the team gathered in a circle. She glanced back to see Jack not paying them any attention, lost in his own world.

Derek gave her a weird look but didn’t say anything as he explained, “Hotch was abducted from a flower shop on 4th Avenue. I found his car parked along the street and went door to door with his picture until the flower shop attendant told me Hotch had been there this morning, looking to buy a bouquet. He said a woman came in and Hotch seemed to know her, but after a minute of talking, Hotch and the woman left without buying anything.”

“They were for me,” Mia whispered.

Emily gave her a pitying look.

“He replaces my flowers as they die, buys me new ones so my office is never missing flowers,” Mia explained. “He goes to that flower shop once every couple of weeks.”

“Could he describe the woman?” Reid asked.

“Same description we’ve gotten twice now,” Morgan said. “White with brown hair. Said that Hotch was familiar but not affectionate.”

“Let’s go back to the profile,” Rossi said. “Female kidnappers usually take children, but she planned this on a day that she had to have known Jack would be picked up early by Mia.”

“If we’re assuming that the unsub knew about Mia and Aaron’s plans to come here, that might’ve been why she picked today,” Reid cut in. “If the unsub knew you were going to meet the real JJ,” he said to Mia, “Then she would’ve had no choice but to act today.”

“But why abduct him in broad daylight?” JJ asked. “If the goal was to get away with whatever she’d done in Hotch’s office—”

“Maybe its not someone angry at Hotch, looking for revenge. Maybe its someone in love with him,” Emily said.

Mia recoiled as the profile once again pointed to her, but no one even looked at her.

Derek said, “So we’re thinking this woman has been in love with Hotch for some amount of time, maybe even stalking him. She got into his home office because she needed something there, either something to take or something to do to be close to him. She abducts him today because she knows once you meet the real JJ, her cover is blown.”

“So what did she do in his office?” JJ asked.

“And how did she get a badge?” Mia added.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Rossi pumped the brakes on their collective train of thought. “If we know what she knows, this narrows down the suspect pool quite a bit.”

“Mia, who did you tell that you were meeting Hotch’s coworkers today?” Emily asked.

Mia thought back. It’s been planned for a week, and she took PTO for the afternoon. In addition, she didn’t exactly hide her excitement. “Its common knowledge at my work,” Mia said. “Everyone on my team and my assistants knew I would be out for the afternoon to be with him, plus anyone who happened to hear us talking about it in the breakroom.”

“But you would know if someone from your work came to your apartment pretending to be JJ,” Derek said. “So it must not be someone you interact with regularly.”

“The jewelry,” Rossi said suddenly. “And the coffee and the flowers…this is someone who has had to watch you be showered with Hotch’s affection for months. Is there anyone you can think of who has had a problem with you at work?”

Mia shook her head, trying to think.

“What about at Jack’s school? You would’ve had to give a reason to take him out of class, is there anyone there that you remember having a bad reaction when you told them?” JJ asked.

“I only told the new administrator the real reason, and we agreed that saying ‘doctor’s appointment’ would get Jack a lot more slack from his teachers about missing a day,” Mia admitted.

Derek stepped away to make a phone call, but the group kept going.

“We need to see what she did to Hotch’s office,” Rossi said.

“I’ll go,” JJ offered. Reid offered to go with her, dropping the note he’d been holding on his desk.

“What’s that?” Mia asked quickly.

“It’s a note that the unsub left us,” Rossi said, handing it to her. “Anything seem familiar about it?”

Mia read it over, her heart pounding. “It sounds like a poem Aaron wrote me a few weeks ago,” she admitted, then regretted telling his coworkers that their big, bad unit chief was secretly a poet.

“How did the poem go?” Reid asked, still pulling his jacket on.

“I don’t remember it word for word, but it was about us growing old together. Our love would push the wind through the trees and put music in every song,” Mia said, blushing.

Emily grimaced. “And if the note is saying that there will be none of that…”

“She’s gonna kill him,” Mia squeaked, all of her tears from earlier coming back with full force as her body trembled with fear.

“And herself, by the sound of it,” Rossi muttered.

“The poem ends with us in the future,” Mia continued. “Growing old at the house we just bought. It’s a bit of dark humor at the end, the part about us dying together.”

“The house,” Rossi repeated. “To the unsub, that house is a symbol of the love Hotch gives to you and not to her. That’s where she’ll take him.”

Mia felt like she was going to throw up.

“She wants to do a murder suicide,” Emily guessed. “And this was her last chance to get away with it.”

Mia whimpered as the pair broke off, grabbing their own jackets and ordering Mia to stay put and watch over Jack.

Derek returned from his phone call, and he didn’t seem to care about the fact that his team had left while he was away. He talked only to Mia, “The school admin you told about today got in two hours before Hotch was taken and hasn’t left the office since. So, it must be someone at your work.”

Mia cried, but Derek told her to focus. “Who at your work would’ve seen the most of you and Hotch?”

“E-everyone,” she answered. “There are pictures of us on my desk and he says hello to my whole team when he comes in to visit—”

“What about people off your team? Did Hotch ever mention anyone looking at him weird in the elevator, being approached in the lobby?”

Mia shook her head. “The most he ever said was that the cleaning lady must not like him very much, because whenever we eat in the break room, she comes in and cleans really loudly. Like, slamming the microwave doors and running the sink water even when she’s across the room.”

Derek flipped open his phone again. “Do you know her name?”

Mia said, “I know her first name is Annalise, but I don’t know her last name. We just stopped eating in the break room after a few rounds of that, but whenever I’m in there by myself she’s perfectly normal and nice.”

“Garcia, get me information about an Annalise working the cleaning crew at Mia’s work,” Derek glanced at Mia as the tech responded. “Okay, got it. Thanks, baby girl.”

“Where did Rossi and Prentiss go?” Derek asked her.

“To our new house. They think that’s where she’s taking Aaron to k—” Mia couldn’t bring herself to say it, the words catching in her throat.

Derek nodded like he knew anyway. “C’mere,” he said, offering her a hug.

Mia cried onto his shoulder for a good few minutes before Jack came up and tugged on her shirt, wanting to know what was wrong. Mia jumped back into mom-mode and quickly wiped her tears away, forcing a smile as she leaned down to pick him up.

“Absolutely nothing,” Mia assured him. “How’s your homework coming along?”

Jack scowled at the reminder, but Mia needed the distraction and she made him do it next to her so she could help if he needed it.

Derek disappeared down a hallway somewhere, and Mia was left alone with Jack in the bullpen, seated at Reid’s desk, which she only knew from Hotch’s descriptions. This was absolutely not how she imagined her first time in the bullpen would go.

She thought back to the first time her and Aaron had met, two years ago, in January.

[purpleandyellowthings]

The Secret Girlfriend Theory (2)

Chapter Two of The Secret Girlfriend Theory! 1982 words and tw for alcohol use, kidnapping, dark themes, canon-level violence, fighting, death

Chapter Two: The Secret Girlfriend

The note had been dropped off by a cyclist who had been paid fifty dollars to walk it into the lobby, but the cyclist could only give a minimal description of the woman who’d paid him. Their interaction was caught by a CCTV camera of the bank next door, but even Garcia couldn’t enhance the image enough to get a good face photo. The best they were working with was the following description: a white or white-passing female, brown hair, and between 5’7 and 5’9. Reid tossed the note down on the table in frustration. Besides the lead to the suspect’s work, the note gave him nothing.

Reid called Morgan just as he and Emily were pulling up to the prosecutor’s office and let him know that he was going back to the penthouse to look with fresh eyes.

“Alright, kid, let me know what you find,” Morgan said, hanging up and getting out of the SUV quickly to catch up to Emily.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Emily muttered to him.

“Me neither.”

Emily walked right up to the receptionist, who was on the phone and gently motioned for them to ‘wait, please’.  Emily flashed her badge but the receptionist still continued taking notes on whatever the person on the other line was saying.

Emily shot Derek an annoyed look.

“Thanks for waiting!” the receptionist said brightly, his blonde hair bouncing as he stood. “Please sign in here, and if you want to take your weapons in, I’ll need to see both badges again and get badge numbers.”

“We’re looking for Mia Fosters,” Derek said as Emily signed them both in. Someone from security stepped forward to take down their badge information.

The receptionist nodded. “Let me get her assistant down here for you,” he said as he pressed a button on a pager.

A young woman walked out from one of the back offices quickly, holding a dozen packets of paper as she made for the reception desk. “Someone paged me,” she said professionally. “How can I help?”

Derek and Emily flashed their badges once more. “We’re looking for your boss, Mia Fosters. Is she here?”

The assistant nodded. “Do you have an appointment?” the woman asked, scanning over the paper on top of her stack.

Emily stepped forward and read upside down that Mia Fosters was currently in a deposition meeting.

“No,” Derek said. “But we’re from the FBI, and we need to speak with her.”

The assistant frowned. “She’s not working any FBI cases right now. If you’re here to get a consult, you’ll need to make an appointment.”

            Derek snapped. “We’re investigating a kidnapping that occurred this morning. We don’t need an appointment. Where’s her office?”

            The assistant’s face turned cold at the rudeness. “Unfortunately, Mia’s son is here with her today and she won’t be giving any consults, especially on something of that subject matter, in front of Jack.”

            Emily’s eyes widened. “Jack’s here?”

            The assistant flinched, like she’d given away too much. “She’ll be leaving for the day for a planned absence in a few minutes.”

            Emily stepped in before Derek could snap again. “How about we talk until she’s done with her meeting? You seem to know her well. What’s your name?”

            “Grace,” the assistant said. She glanced around the lobby and added, “Just follow me.”

            Grace led them to her office, which had three desks in it, but somehow didn’t feel too crowded. She sat down at the farthest desk and motioned for them to sit across from her, then began typing something quickly on her computer. The other two desks were unoccupied at the moment, but Emily and Derek could see evidence of several people using the office.

            “How long has Mia Fosters worked here?” Derek asked.

            “Six years, I believe,” Grace said, finishing whatever she was typing and turning her eyes back to them. “I’ve been her assistant for thirteen months.”

            “So, you work closely with her?” Emily clarified.

            Grace nodded. “She runs a mentorship program designed to help underrepresented people get into the legal field. I’m technically an intern, as are the others, but she doesn’t like the word ‘intern’ so we’re officially assistants.”

            “Is she a good boss?” Emily asked.

            Grace started to answer, seemingly affirmatively, but Derek cut her off. “Do you know anything about her personal life? Boyfriends? Parents? Friends?”

            Grace laughed uncomfortably. “Well, I don’t know about her parents. But we’re all her friends here, and yes, I know her boyfriend.”

            “Tell us about him,” Emily said.

            “His name’s Aaron, I’m sorry I don’t have a last name for you. He’s a bit older than her, but not in, like, a weird way. And gosh, the way they look at each other. Its like watching a fairytale. His job requires him to be away a lot, but we all know when he’s in town because she comes in glowing.”

            “Have you ever met him?” Emily asked, noting the word usage.

            Grace nodded. “He stops by at least once a week. Brings her flowers, coffee, jewelry, little trinkets. He never stays for very long, but since I’m usually the one fielding requests for her, I always know when he’s here.”

“What kind of jewelry?” Derek asked.

“Nice stuff,” Grace said. “She’s like, literally the least vain person I’ve ever met, but the stuff he brings her makes her look so expensive and classy.”

Derek and Emily shared a glance.

“What about her adopted son, Jack?” Emily pressed on.

Grace smiled. “Jack’s so dope. Sometimes she brings him in when she has to work late, and he does homework right next to her. I know they’re not blood related, but when they’re both staring down some paperwork, I swear they look exactly alike.”

A knock on the door had all three people turning to look at the woman in the doorway.

“Hello,” the woman said. There was a brief case with a long shoulder strap resting on her left shoulder, crossing down to the right side of her body, where a little blonde boy was standing, holding his backpack straps. The woman was tall and beautiful, her black slacks form fitting yet professional and her sleeves short enough to reveal toned arms. Sure enough, she was adorned with shiny jewels. There were silver studs in her ears, bracelets around each wrist, including a silver watch. A silver chain held a little teddy bear charm against her neck, but they saw no rings. Her brown hair fell straight and went nearly halfway down her back, and bangs framed her face and made her brown eyes pop.

Mia Fosters smiled, and suddenly Emily understood why two people had referred to her as glowing.

“I heard there were people here for me,” Mia said, one hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Something about a kidnapping case? I was just about to head out for the day, but I have a few minutes if you need me to answer some questions.”

Emily stood to face her, but Derek merely glared from his seat.

“Hello,” Emily said, reaching to shake Mia’s hand.

Mia accepted the professional gesture, but Emily could tell she was unsettled by the difference in responses from her and from Morgan.

“I’m Agent Prentiss, and this is Agent Morgan. We’re investigating a kidnapping that occurred this morning. Is there somewhere we could talk in private?”

Mia nodded, motioning to Grace, who stood up quickly and said to Jack, “Hey Jack, do you want to help me change the water fountain jug?”

Jack lit up at that and followed Grace out of the office eagerly, the door shutting behind them with a gentle click.

Mia sighed and pulled her briefcase off her shoulder and sat in Grace’s chair. “That should take them a few minutes,” she said with a smile. “He likes the chugging noise it makes when we first flip it over. So, how can I help you folks?”

Derek showed her the picture of Hotch that was floating around the news and said, “I’m guessing you know this man?”

Mia’s smile faltered. “Yes, I do. That’s my boyfriend, Aaron. What’s going on?”

Emily breathed in deep, preparing to say it. “He’s been missing since this morning.”

Mia’s smile turned into a questioning one, her eyebrows dipping down.

Then she laughed.

“That’s funny!” Mia said through her giggles. “Wow, you guys really sold it. I actually believed it for a second.”

Derek looked furious. “Is this a joke to you?”

That only made Mia laugh harder. “Gosh, Aaron’s such a prankster. He knew I was nervous today and sent you guys to give me a good laugh. Let me guess, you need to take me the FBI headquarters and he’s going to walk in and interrogate me about his alleged ‘kidnapping’,” she said, putting kidnapping in air quotes.

“Emily, please let me arrest her,” Derek said, turning to Emily with an exhausted look on his face.

Mia cut in, “Wait, Emily? As in, Emily of the BAU?”

Emily nodded, confused.

“Are you both from the BAU?” Mia asked excitedly.

When Emily nodded again, Mia lit up. “So that makes you Derek!” she extrapolated. “Aaron’s told me all about you guys. Of course, this isn’t how I planned to meet you officially. I was supposed to meet you all today, so it’s a little odd that he sent you guys here for a joke knowing that it would mean I wouldn’t get to meet you all at once.”

“What do you mean you were supposed to meet us today?” Emily asked.

Mia was still smiling when she said, “That’s why I’m leaving early. I was on my way to Aaron’s work to have lunch with him and Jack. Packed a little picnic and everything. Aaron was going to introduce me to all of you today.”

“Mia,” Emily said gently. “We’re not kidding. This isn’t a joke. Hotch is really missing, and we need you to come with us.”

Mia’s smile faded. “What are you talking about?” She whispered. “I just talked to him this morning, and he was fine.”

“He used a codeword in his last communication that let us know he was in trouble,” Emily explained. “We could use your help narrowing down the timeline of this morning. Will you please come with us to Quantico?”

Tears sprang to Mia’s eyes, and she nodded. “I’ll get Jack and we’ll meet you there. Its where I was going anyways.”

“Perhaps Jack could ride with us?” Emily suggested. “We haven’t seen him in forever, it feels.”

Mia seemed to tense, and as much as Emily wanted to believe her innocence, that reaction wasn’t good. “We’ll both ride with you. Saves time that way.”

Mia seemed on the verge of tears the entire car ride, but Emily could tell she was holding back in front of Jack to keep him from worrying.

“Mimi, I’m hungry,” Jack said suddenly.

From where she sat beside him, Mia could reach over and hug Jack. “I know, sweetie, and its almost lunchtime.” She sighed as she put one hand up to her forehead, rubbing her temple. “And I just realized that I left the cooler for the picnic in my car,” she looked up to the front seat, where Derek was watching her every move in the mirror. “Please tell me you guys have food at the office for him.”

Emily glanced back from the driver’s seat. “We’ll figure something out,” she said.

Mia sat back in her seat, her left hand stretching across the middle seat to hold Jack’s hand, knowing he got car sick easily. She propped her chin on her right hand and looked out the window for a minute, then closed her eyes. She begged for it to all be a prank, like she initially thought. She prayed for Aaron to be safe and healthy and happy.

[purpleandyellowthings]

The Secret Girlfriend Theory (1)

Hello all! Here is chapter one of six of my Hotch x OC. 2251 words and trigger warnings for alcohol use, kidnapping, dark themes, canon-level violence, fighting, death. I tried to make the bau team as in-character as possible also this isn't beta read so good luck

Chapter One: The Secret Girlfriend Theory

“Hotch is missing,” JJ said. “We need to get everyone here, now.”

Garcia’s eyes widened. “W-what? How do you know?”

JJ held up her phone, the screen black as she waved it in the air. “He changed his voicemail to include a codeword. It’s probably the last thing he did before whoever took him took his phone or knocked him out.”

Garcia was typing messages to send to the team’s PC’s as her eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t believe this happening again.”

“Focus, Penelope,” JJ said. “I need you to analyze the voicemail. The code word he chose was “animals”, and I was so focused on that I couldn’t pay attention to the background. Please, find what I couldn’t.”

“I’m on it,” Garcia said quickly, turning back to her computers and pleading to them with her eyes to give her all the answers.

JJ was already at the door when she said, “Tell them to meet me at Hotch’s place. And see where his last known location was.”

Emily was the first to meet JJ, a frown gracing her lips as she stormed in, past the FBI techs who were carrying their equipment out.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” JJ admitted. “But whoever took him didn’t do it from here. There’s no sign of a struggle and nothing out of place.”

Emily pulled a pair of gloves on and said, “There might still be something here. I’m just gonna look around, let me know when the others get here.”

Rossi was the next to arrive, striding in. “I checked the garage and his cars not there. Does Garcia have a last known yet?”

JJ nodded, grateful to finally be able to answer a question. “She says his phone last pinged in an apartment building downtown, but I’ll have her check his car GPS too.”

Reid walked in, gloves already on. “I have her on the phone right now guys,” he said, quickly moving the device away from his ear and placing it on Hotch’s coffee table in front of the couch. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“I’m checking his car GPS right now, but there’s something you all need to see,” Garcia started. “A note was delivered to the FBI five minutes ago. It says, “There will be no wind in the trees, there will be no music in the song. And there will be no bodies for you to bury. Goodnight.”

Derek arrived in time to hear the last of it. “Sounds like a female author. Men wouldn’t be that poetic.”

“I agree. But why would a woman kidnap Hotch? And more importantly, how?” Rossi asked. “He’s a highly trained FBI agent. He’s overpowered men twice his size without breaking a sweat.”

“So, we think Hotch knew his attacker?” JJ asked. “Subdued him with a weapon maybe?”

Emily tilted her head. “Not necessarily him. She might’ve threatened a loved one to ensure his obedience. We should pull Jack from school, just in case.”

“Is anyone else bothered by the phrasing of the last sentence?” Reid asked. “There will be no bodies to bury. Not body. She’s speaking of bodies, plural.”

Derek grimaced. “The note says she’s organized. If we’re about to have an organized serial killer on our hands…”

“Let’s not assume the worst yet,” Rossi interceded. “If Hotch isn’t injured, he can think straight and handle himself. Let’s focus on the note and getting Jack to safety. JJ, Morgan, you two go pick him up. Emily, we’re going to the apartment building where he was last. Reid, go back to HQ and look at that note.”

The team began to move out, just as Emily noticed something. “Guys, does anything here feel off to you?”

Rossi hesitated as well. “What are you thinking?”

Emily turned in place. “Its not right,” she said. Then she moved. “We know Hotch is neat, and we know he was probably on his way to work when it happened, based on the absence of his briefcase and the timing. But we also know that Hotch eats breakfast every morning, and look—there’s no dishes in the sink or in the strainer.”

Derek caught on what Emily was getting at and looked around as well. “We know he complains about junk mail but look at the table by the door. There’s no mail, junk or otherwise.”

JJ said, “There’s no sign of Jack at all. No toys, no pictures, no cups, no report cards on the fridge.”

Reid took the short hallway down to Hotch’s room and glanced inside. He shouted, “Bed hasn’t been slept in. There’s a layer of dust on the dresser and all the lamps are unplugged.”

“Like you do for a vacation,” JJ said.

Reid arrived back in the living room. “And his closet is almost empty. Only two outfits in there and one of them is for a workout.”

“So, we’re saying that Hotch hasn’t lived here lately?” Rossi said. “That doesn’t make sense. Where else would he be staying? And why would he keep this apartment in his name if he wasn’t going to use it anymore?”

Garcia chimed in suddenly, the phone rustling with noise now that she’d unmuted herself. “Guys, I don’t know who all is still there but I called the school to let them know someone was on their way to get Jack, and they said he was picked up an hour ago.”

JJ looked like she was going to be sick. “By who?”

“By a woman named Mia Foster. The admin I talked to said that she was new to the role but that Foster has picked Jack up from school every day since she’s worked there, and Jack is always so happy to see her.”

“Get us everything you can about Mia Fosters,” Rossi ordered. “JJ, I still want you to go to the school and find out more about Fosters’ behavior. Morgan, go back with Reid and get into Hotch’s office.”

Emily seemed impressed by the apartment building that Rossi had pulled up to. “This is nice. Do we think Hotch moved here?”

Rossi shrugged. “Or he was taken here before his phone turned off.”

Emily winced. “Right. I guess I just want to believe this was all a big misunderstanding.” They got out of the car and walked into the lobby side by side. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”

“Last time it felt real because you walked into Hotch’s hotel room and saw all the blood. Your brain had no choice but to believe it was real,” Rossi reminded her.

Prentiss didn’t have time to answer before the receptionist was greeting them. “Hi there! Are you here for the penthouse viewing?”

“Actually, we’re here with the FBI,” Rossi said, and both agents showed their badges in unison. “We’re looking for Aaron Hotchner. Can we show you a picture and see if you’ve seen him?”

The receptionist laughed. “Of course, I know Mr. Hotchner! No need for a picture.”

“You know him?” Emily repeated.

“Yes, he’s been living here for quite some time. It’s such a shame he’s moving, though. He’s a better tipper than most,” the receptionist said casually. “Why are you guys looking for him? Aren’t you coworkers?”

Rossi glanced at Emily before stating, “We believe he’s missing. This is his last known location.”

“Missing?” the receptionist’s friendly and casual demeanor dropped. “What about Mia and Jack? Are they okay?”

The agents shared a look of pure confusion. “What apartment has he been staying in? We’d like to take a look if you don’t mind.”

The receptionist stumbled over her words. “Yes, o-of course. The manager of the building is already up there, doing a showing.”

“A showing?” Prentiss repeated. “He’s moving out of the penthouse? And selling it?”

The receptionist nodded. “We’ve been doing showings for them all week.”

“Them being Mia and Aaron?” Rossi said. When the woman nodded again he asked, “What can you tell us about Mia?”

The receptionist looked worried. She whispered, “Is she missing too?”

“Not that we’re aware of,” Rossi said smoothly, not eager to let anyone know that currently, Mia was a suspect.

“Mia’s a sweetheart,” the receptionist said. “She’s lived here a lot longer, and I’ve known her longer. She’s a bit of a workaholic, if I’m being honest. But she used to come home real sad and stressed, but when Mr. Hotchner and Jack moved in, she really lightened up. She just kinda glows, you know?”

Emily sucked in a breath. “When did they move in here?”

The receptionist thought for a second. “I’d have to check the records for an exact date, but it must’ve been a year ago now.”

Rossi sighed. “Thank you,” he said. “We might have more questions later.”

The receptionist nodded. “I’ll be here until five, but Joanna takes over for the night shift, and she knows Mia and Mr. Hotchner well too. I see them when they leave for the morning and she sees them when they come home.”

“When Hotch left this morning, did he seem upset or distressed in anyway?” Emily asked.

“Actually, yes,” the receptionist said. “He usually waves goodbye as he leaves, but he looked really worried as he walked out. He didn’t wave because he was talking on the phone.”

“What was he saying?” Rossi pressed.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I was too far away to hear but whatever it was, he was real unhappy about it.”

“And did Mia leave before or after him?”

“A couple hours before.”

“Thank you,” Rossi said again as they walked away, towards the elevators.

Prentiss lowered her voice. “Is it really possible for Hotch to have had a secret girlfriend for the past year?”

“It would’ve had to have been longer,” Rossi said. “He wouldn’t have moved in with someone he barely knew.”

“We would’ve known,” Emily said assuredly. “We would’ve been able to tell.”

Back at HQ, Morgan was shuffling through Hotch’s laptop in the round table room as Reid dissected the note on the whiteboard.

“What do we have?” Rossi said as he and Emily burst through the door.

“There’s nothing on his work computer,” Morgan said defeatedly. “The only mention of Mia Fosters that I can find is an old email thread where he emailed her an introduction of himself and the BAU and she emailed back her phone number and a winky face. After that, nothing.”

“That’s quite forward,” Emily commented. “But it might’ve worked somehow. Receptionist at the apartment building says that Mia Fosters and Hotch have lived together in the penthouse for a year.”

JJ walked in, hanging up the phone as she went. “Mia Fosters is a registered guardian, according to the school. All of Jack’s teachers say that they see her more than they see Hotch, and that Jack adores her. Today’s early pickup has been planned for three weeks.”

“So, the secret girlfriend theory is correct?” Emily asked.

Garcia knocked on the door, not wanting to interrupt the profilers in their element, but Derek waved her in anyway.

“I can help with proving that theory,” she said softly. “But you aren’t going to like it.”

“Go ahead, baby girl.”

Garcia sat down beside JJ and ranted, “Mia Fosters and Aaron Hotchner’s meeting has no record, but the night of their first email, Hotch called her a little after 9pm. Since that day two years ago, their phone numbers have called each other at least twice a day. She calls him in the morning, and he calls her in the evening. Sometimes the calls only last for a minute or two, and there are occasional random calls, like in the middle of the night or late afternoon.”

“When we get cases,” Reid guessed. “He’s calling her to tell her he’s leaving town.”

“There’s more,” Garcia said. “In early January of last year, Hotch put her down as one of the three people capable of pulling Jack from school. The school only allows three, which means he put Mia in JJ’s place, the third place, of course, being Haley’s sister.”

JJ shifted sadly, but Prentiss grabbed her hand in comfort.

“One month after that, Hotch and Mia appeared in court together and signed some papers. Bing-bang-boom, she’s now Jack’s legal guardian, giving her the exact same rights over Jack as Hotch does.”

“Why on earth would he do that?” Derek asked, frustrated.

“Last thing,” Garcia said quickly, knowing the team wanted to talk about what she’d already said. “Two weeks ago, both of their bank accounts showed a substantial withdrawal. They paid cash for a house, and both of their names are on the lease.”

Everyone sat, stunned.

“I don’t like this,” Morgan said suddenly. “I just don’t believe that Hotch would have a secret life that he wouldn’t tell us about. I mean, I get having a work life and a home life, but this is just weird.”

“I agree,” JJ said. “When he and Haley were together, I was always fielding calls from Haley because she was worried about him. If this Mia person really is Hotch’s girlfriend, why haven’t we heard from her?”

“But Jack is the most important thing to Hotch. If he trusts her with his son, maybe that says something,” Emily defended.

Reid shook his head. “I’m with Morgan and JJ. Its too weird to think about Hotch never even mentioning this woman to us and then suddenly buying a house with her. And JJ’s right. If he’s been missing since this morning, why hasn’t she called us for help? And how convenient is it that she scheduled an early pickup for Jack the exact morning that Hotch goes missing?”

Rossi drummed his fingers on the table. “We won’t be able to make a decision about Mia Fosters if we don’t have a profile to compare her to. Let’s go back to the profile.”

“We know the unsub is organized and intelligent enough to somehow manipulate Hotch into being kidnapped,” Emily said. “But without a crime scene, there’s not much else to get information from.”

“What about the note?” JJ asked Reid.

“It was typed, so there’s not much to get from the handwriting, but look at the stationary,” Reid said, pushing the bagged note into the center of the table. “Even through the bag you can feel how thick the paper is. Anyone recognize it?”

They all knew it as soon as they felt the paper through the bag.

“That’s the paper our court orders and warrants come through on,” JJ said.

“Official state prosecution’s office paper,” Rossi said.

Garcia made a noise. “Mia Foster works at the prosecutor’s office.”

Emily and Derek made eye contact.

“Let’s go,” Emily said quickly. Both agents launched out of the chairs and grabbed their jackets, hurrying out the door.

JJ stood as well. “I’m going to release Hotch’s photo to the public. People need to be looking for him even if we don’t have a profile to give about the unsub yet.”

Rossi reached for Hotch’s computer, asking Garcia to tell him more about Mia Foster’s life. Reid went back to the note, hunched over it, muttering the lines to himself.

There will be no wind in the trees, there will be no music in the song. And there will be no bodies for you to bury. Goodnight.

[purpleandyellowthings]

tw: sexual assault survival, the word rape, loss of innocence, metaphorical chest injury, implied harmful choking experience

we don’t talk about what happens to girls at night. in alleys outside of clubs or the couches of our own homes. we don’t mention in casual conversation the way we were ripped apart as children, as teens. we don’t converse about our innocence being stripped away with our clothes. maybe if we talked about it more it would happen less. maybe i would be able to say the word instead of dancing around it. cowering from it. maybe the next time i’m surrounded by men and someone makes a rape joke i’ll stand up and tell them about the time my much older boyfriend decided he didn’t like it when i said no. about how i can’t wear short necklaces anymore because i hate the feeling of anything touching the skin of my neck. maybe i’ll start talking about it every day. in every place. maybe that will teach the girls like me that they are not alone. maybe that will teach the boys like him that they will not get away with it anymore. i was sixteen. i was barely sixteen and i was carved hollow with a poison blade. my heart and lungs are cold because my chest was ripped open and never healed all the way. sit in me, my fellow survivors. take all the pieces of the flesh you still call your own and come to me, hide in between my ribs. i can’t protect you from the wind that breaks my skin but i can become the storm.

[purpleandyellowthings]

Yesterday, my mother and I met a stranger. A kind stranger who, in the interest of conversation, asked me many questions. She asked me what I was studying at university. I told her I was a double major in Law and Economics. A few minutes later, I overheard my mother and her talking about me. I heard my mother tell her that I wanted to be an employment lawyer, to deal with things like harassment and wrongful termination. I myself was engaged in a separate conversation and was unable to correct her at the moment.

Later, when we were alone again, she said I sounded “pompous” when I explained that I was a double major.

“Pompous?” I asked.

“Yes,” she told me.

I told her I didn’t appreciate her telling lies about my plans for the future. “I don’t want to be an employment lawyer. I will be a prosecutor with an emphasis on sex crimes. This is and always has been my plan.”

She told me she wasn’t going to tell people that. “I’m sticking to the HR story until you graduate.”

“But that’s the wrong story,” I argued. She didn’t say anything back.

When the kind stranger raised her eyebrows and said, “Wow, law and economics. Those don’t really go together, do they?”

Before I could tell them that, yes, they do go together and explain how, my mother jumped in and said, “We’re still working on the economics thing.”

“No, we’re not.”

“I’m hoping for her to choose accounting as a second major instead.” my mom explained with a big smile and a pointed look at me.

“I’m not doing accounting.”

“Well, you will if I’m paying for it.” She laughed, and the kind stranger laughed with her.

“You haven’t paid a cent of my tuition!” I defended. But the moment was gone. I was not the impressive scholar anymore, just another kid whose parents paid her way.

But Mom, everything I have, I worked for. I’ve earned everything that I’ve become. My tuition comes from money that I alone put in the bank. I chose my future based on experiences that I had independent of you.

Yet, I understand why you want to lie. You want to be seen as the mother you never were when I was growing up. My ability to live and survive without you shows that you were never someone I could depend on in the first place. And I know that you are no longer the mother I grew up with. When dad died, you ceased to be the person you were. The person who wouldn’t let me talk at the dinner table or say goodnight to you at the end of the day. The person who came to none of my basketball games or performances, who never gave me a ride to practice or rehearsal. The person who I was most afraid to tell when I was hurt. You are now who you were meant to be, the mother you wanted to be but couldn’t find the time to become. We love each other now, as we never could before.

You want to lie because when I tell people that I want to put away sex offenders, they know. They know instantly from the tone of my voice and the look in my eyes why I want to be that person. They know instantly that I was hurt, and you think that they know instantly that you failed to protect me.

Mommy, you didn’t fail. The only person who could’ve protected me then is me now. What happened to me is vital to preventing it from happening to others.

And I know, mom. I wouldn’t want to tell people either. But I need you to understand how important it is to me for people to know.

I am a warrior as much as I am a scholar. I am a survivor as much as I am your daughter. I am the product of every woman before me, and I will be a shield for every woman after me.

I want them to know. I want them to know that I was hurt. I want them to know that I am going to spend the rest of my life doing for others what no one could have done for me.

You said I sounded pompous, but what you meant was I made them afraid. I sounded too confident and intimidating to be the daughter you were trying to depict me as. I sounded too big for the short dress I was wearing yesterday.

Good.

I want everyone in the world to know who I am and what I plan to do. I want everyone looking at me to know that I will never again confine myself to the space I was given. I want the abusers of the world to know that I am coming for them. I want them to know that I see through their lies and I want them just as fearful as I was.

I want the abusers to think of me the next their hand meets someone’s skin. I want them to feel fear when they hear “no” because they know if they continue, I will be there the next day, stripping them of everything they’ve ever known. They should know that there is someone out there, unafraid of them and willing to face them in a courtroom and call them out for what they’ve done.

You didn’t fail me, Mom. You created me. You created someone who will be the harbinger of change. You created someone that rapists will fear, that victims will stand beside.

I will not raise a daughter in the same world I grew up in. I will not stand by and allow the generations after me to be afraid of walking down the street, going to work, or wearing a short dress.

I will always be your daughter. I will always be the girl who stood up in a crowd to play you happy birthday on my violin even though I was terrified and exhausted. I will always be the girl who took your shoes off and tucked you into bed the night your husband died. But I am not entirely yours anymore.

I belong to the revolution. I belong to the future where men stop when they are supposed to. I belong to the future where abusers face punishments for their crimes. I belong to the world that I am hoping to create, where victims aren’t silent, and the system works.

I know why you lied. But if I were you, and I had a daughter who was going to change the world…

I’d tell everyone.

[purpleandyellowthings]

Hey. Hey you. Yes, you.

Clean your makeup brushes. Yes, now.

this will be your only warning

[purpleandyellowthings]

Natasha Romanoff walked so Captain Marvel, Scarlett Witch, Shuri, Jane Foster, She-Hulk, Pepper Potts, Maria Hill, Yelena Belova, Gamora, Monica Rambeau, Peggy Carter, Sharon Carter, Sersi, the Wasp, Ms. Marvel, Valkyrie, Lady Sif, Kate Bishop, Okeye, Mantis, Nebula, Sylvie, Xu Xialing, and Jessica Jones could run.

And look I’m not saying she was the perfect role model or the best possible example of how to have a female character in a superhero movie. But goddammit I grew up with Marvel just like the boys my age did, only I just had Nat. She was my favorite from Iron Man 2, simply because she was the only one on screen who looked like me and could still kick ass. And then she grew, and grew, and grew into someone that I could look up to, once I knew which parts of her were wrong and right. And I know ScarJo is controversial af on this website but BY GOD she made people pay attention. Black Widow wasn’t only the first female Avenger. She was the one who got up on the silver screen surround by men and said “Look at me!!” and we looked. and we kept looking. and now the path that she dug for us is full of powerful women and role models that wouldn’t get half the attention they do if Natasha Romanoff hadn’t grabbed every scene she was in and held on for dear fucking life while every male was kicking her knuckles trying to get her to let go.

Yes I did just watch the Black Widow movie again. no, i’m not okay.

[purpleandyellowthings]

when Alina and the Darkling were making out ™️ what did she moan?? like no hear me out imagine meeting this super hot guy who kills a man for you and he’s super powerful and ya’ll start making out and you’re supposed to moan a name that starts with THE!! wtf like yeah she could call him baby but you and I know both know that Alina would straight up be like “hmm T-the Darkl-ling oh that feels go-“ and Aleks would stop kissing her neck or whatever and we’d get the whole edgy “you’re the only one who knows my name” two books earlier

[purpleandyellowthings]

today i took a second to think about skin and how these tiny cells are holding together my bones and blood and keep the brain inside my head which allows me to do things like recognize when someone i love is touching my hands and the warmth of the sun heating the back of my neck and i just think that’s really cool

[purpleandyellowthings]

Finally here everyone…can’t say I haven’t been lurking for years. I am purpleandyellowthings My pronouns are she/her. I just started my freshman year of college and I finally got an account so I could share all my thoughts that I can’t put anywhere else. Also so i can read fanfics cause i’m a walking lemon lmao

if ya’ll have any suggestions or advice lemme know!