#Aaron hotchner unrequited | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uranometrias · 5 months

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✮ꜜ : ❛ you're still a traitor : criminal minds x fem! reader [ pt. 1 ]

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader (unrequited) | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: being in love with your boss was hard. especially when there were so many factors surrounding you that made the possibility of being with him, out of the question. for starters, there was your age gap, and hotch was a stickler with baggage that he couldn't quite disclose to you. hotch was a fantasy, always out of your grasp, that is until emily dies. in the four months that followed emily's death at the hands of ian doyle, you found yourself living a life that you'd only ever dreamed about. hotch was careful, but the proof was right in front of your face as he went out of his way to care for you while you grieved. how stupid of you not to realize something was horribly wrong. but now emily was back, and hotch was back from reassignment in pakistan, and you were all on trial, and absolutely nothing makes sense except for the bitter understanding that you were a pawn in a game that in so few words was "way bigger than you." but at least you had spence.

content warnings: this is literally a barrel of angst. reader breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. mentions of slight! anxiety. follows the plot of "it takes a village" aka the iconic "this is calm, and it's doctor" episode. flashbacks x present day! spencer has been crushing on reader for as long as she's been crushing on hotch. hotch is NOT romantically interested in reader. slight! hotchniss vibes (but that's up to your interpretation. jj x reader angst! reader does not react to emily's return well. mentions of unit transfer / bureau resignation. spencer confesses to reader... open ending making room for a part 2! heartbreak, drinking, crying. best friend! penelope garcia + derek morgan. reader has a sister & niece.

read part two right here.

Your leg shakes violently as you sat just outside the court room, hands balled into tight fists as your nails press deep into the callousing skin of your palms. You couldn't say you were nervous, as far as the previous case was concerned you'd done everything you could to save Declan. You'd take whatever suspension they'd throw your way without batting an eye. You didn't regret the part you played, no, you just regretted the team that you were apart of.

It had been a crazy seven months. You remembered when things turned left, back when Emily started acting weird. She was shorter, snappier, she had less patience with any of you. Long gone were the days of wasting your time with jokes and innuendos. She had a lot on her mind, a lot none of you were privy to, and you remembered how you'd stretched yourself. You'd all tried so hard to show her you were there, to let her know that you could be trusted.

Your face contorts into a scowl, it had become your new resting face in the last few weeks. God, you hated how stupid and naive you'd been back then. Now that everything was out in the open, it was almost too obvious where the deception began. What was the point of taking care of people who had no trouble treating you like some disposable pawn piece to be moved to fit their whims. Damn. You were crying again, you'd been doing that a whole lot too lately.

You scrub furiously at your face, and you hate your teammates a little bit more. JJ had gone first, face devoid of any timidity or uncertainty. Long gone were the days of Jennifer Jareau the Liaison, she was a profiler now, one of you. When she'd come back, you'd been ecstatic. The unit hadn't been the same since she was transferred, you'd missed her so gravely. But now, now the sight of her just reminded you of the secret you'd been holding on the tip of your tongue.

Hotch wasn't the only one who had known about Emily.

You feel a hand moving to rest on the top of your thigh, and you flinch violently. You sniffle audibly, eyes moving to rest on Penelope, your God-given solace. Your best friend. She, Derek, and Spencer were the only ones who wholeheartedly understood what you felt. But even still, Hotch hadn't used their feelings to make them blind, the way he had done with you. He'd played you like a goddamn fiddle, and you'd let him. Because you were weak, stupid, grieving, and in love.

Hotch had never been in the cards for you, not that you weren't beautiful, gorgeous, an amazing agent. You had the stamp of approval of both Agents Gideon and Rossi. Erin Strauss had been (by your request) rejecting every request of transfer any other unit had tried to offer. You were an asset to the bureau, and a major part of this team. You'd been around since the beginning. You'd witnessed doe-eyed Spencer Reid join at age 23, full of facts and anxiety.

You'd seen Derek blossom and break out of his play-boy persona, and become someone that other branches of the law fought to have. You'd been around for so long, you'd witnessed so much, and Hotch knew that. Which you suppose is what you allowed yourself to believe was the reason he'd never shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. He was respecting your future, leaving your options open. But those were the delusional musings of a girl in love with someone she can't have. Hotch wasn't into you, and you knew that.

So why, why, why did you let him convince you of the opposite? For even one measly second? And, yes, of course in the grand scheme of things you understood why he did what he did. But it didn't make it hurt less. In fact knowing his duty to Emily outweighed his duty to anything else just made this whole ordeal feel more like a slap to your face. Penelope gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, and you're pulled from your running mind. You blink, registering her worry.

"Are you alright?" she asks, and it's the first time anyone's asked you that since the first day. You know they were giving you space to cope, which only seemed to reaffirm your feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "We'll get out of this, alright? And we'll-we'll be able to be a complete family again." she proceeds, and serves you right for believing someone understood what was going on. They'd all misunderstood you. They thought your behavior was fear of the team being dismantled. Some profilers you were surrounded by.

"I'm fine, Garcia." you say, and you can't bite the snippiness if you wanted to. "I just want to get this over with, and get the hell out of here." you add, and you're standing up, Penelope's hand dropping limply as you move your seat. You find a more isolated corner, plopping back into the uncomfortable seat, as the legs squeak slightly. Your leg is back to shaking, only now you've taken to chomping on your bottom lip. You don't imagine Penelope's hurt expression, you know without a doubt that you'll cave. And you can't.

Not this time.

Your phone chirps in your pocket, and you jump once more. Your jumpiness was a new attribute triggered by the amount of sleep you hadn't been getting. Pulling it out you see that it's a call from your big sister, and you curse under your breath. You were supposed to be watching your niece so your sister could pick up an extra shift. None of you had really expected for things to go this far.

"Hey..." you wince, because you can hear the heaviness of your feelings ladled over your words.

"Hey, are you alright? I got a call from Spence." and you're surprised. You look up, searching for the brunette anywhere in the vicinity, and find that he hasn't shown up yet. It's a bit of a shock, especially for someone as punctual as Reid. You did however spot JJ still meandering about, and she's not looking tense at all. Despite your anger towards her, you couldn't deny that she'd quickly fallen into the role of a profiler. It fit her almost like a glove.

"Spencer called you?" you ask, and you hear the tension in your sister's sigh. You imagine that she must be exhausted. Your sister did a lot, and managing a blossoming family was hard. Your niece was five, and she had a new addition to the family on the way. Which was why it was so important for you to be there on the days she needed you to watch your niece.

"Yes, he said something about..." your sister lowers her voice. "Emily." she questions, and you find your head nodding despite the fact she can't see you. "Are you alright?" she asks again, and this time she emphasizes how important it is for her to hear directly from your mouth the state of your wellbeing. Your sister seemed to always see right through you, it was a wonder she wasn't the one in the FBI.

"I'm-" you trail off before you can lie. "I'm sure if they could they'd disband the unit." you whisper, and you look up just as Derek is exiting the court room, Penelope looking terrified as she takes his place. Derek scans the room before he spots you, and his eyes soften. JJ approaches him and the two seem to chat animatedly. Still they look so serious, there was no room for smiles and banter today.

It's not long though before they're looking at you again, and you know that they know. Your self isolation wasn't something you were exactly being subtle about. You immediately look away, focusing in on what your sister was saying. "Bad decisions or not, they're no good without your unit." she says, and pride still manages to swell up inside of you. "You guys do good work. You work because you're together, everyone plays their role." she proceeds, and it's then you shatter.

Play your role. What role exactly did you play? Hotch was the stoic leader that somehow seemed to play the role of pseudo-father so well for every member of the team, with the exception of Rossi and Derek. Derek, was the shoe-in for promotion. The older brother who teased you relentlessly, but would fight til his last breath to protect you, and he always did. JJ, the pretty girl. The one who everyone on the team at some point had been attracted to. But more than that, she was resilient, a subtle glue that kept your unit running.

You quickly slot through everyone else's roles in your head, and huff. What were you except the odd-woman out. The dummy with a crush on your unit chief, and too much knowledge for your own good. You supposed that was why Hotch had to distract you with exaggerated gestures. If you got out of your feelings and really thought about it, you knew that if anyone on the team was going to see through the smoke, and uncover the truth about Emily, it would be you.

So he had to handicap you. What better way than by hanging the possibility of a romance in your face. Still, it was cruel. Just more proof that this was not the family you made them out to be. "Yeah, I'm not so sure." you reply, and you can hear how disgruntled you sound. It smacks you like a ton of bricks, and it's then you truly realize just how hurt you were by everything. Your sister sighs deeply, and it makes you second guess yourself. Were you being irrational? Unfair?

"I know what Hotch did." she begins, "And it was awful to play with your feelings like that." she expresses, and you feel validated. "And nobody's expecting you to just welcome Emily back with open arms after months and months of thinking that she was dead. You were deceived, and I want you to feel however you want, okay?" she says, and you don't respond, mostly because it feels rhetorical. "Just don't do anything rash without thinking it through alright?"

You don't know what she means by that so your eyes roll. "I think we're well past that, if they find us guilty I could lose my job." you remind her, and she chuckles. You don't find it funny, you can't. Your love for the job outweighed a lot of things, so it had been a no-brainer to help Derek seek out Ian Doyle. You wanted his head spinning on a pike, and you weren't planning to take no for an answer.

two weeks prior.

You were sitting across from Derek, steaming mug of coffee in your head that was more french vanilla creamer than anything else. You held the staged photograph of Declan and Louise. Derek's holding an identical photo, a heady sigh escaping him as you both rack your brains for some sort of bullseye. Something that would point you right in the direction of Declan. "Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity." Penelope says as she walks into the office. She sits in the chair right beside you, arm full of stress balls and files. "So she must have used someone that she trusted." she proceeds.

"Alright, well that's a short list, but it's probably not even written down." is Derek's tired reply.

"Even if it was, she's been so many places, with so many different points of contact. " you speak up, and you take a sip from your coffee, praying it kicks in and wakes you up a bit. "It's not gonna be super easy to track and narrow them all down." you say, and you realize your mistake just as Penelope is placing a file in your hands.

"Oh, tell me about it. Two columns, domestic and imports." she says as she passes the other to Derek, who's looking at you with an amused smile stretched across his face. Serves you both right for underestimating the genius of Penelope Garcia. "I accept your apology, cutie." she says, leaning into you as you grin, smacking your lips in a kiss.

"Hey." JJ's at the door of the office, all three of you turning to look her way as she beams brightly. "Have you guys seen, Spence?" she questions, and you remember how you'd offered to bring him a coffee as a respite from the garbage water they served in the bullpen. He'd shut you down politely asking to reschedule as he was going to be spending his day at the Firing Range. You understood the need, he wanted to protect himself, and the team. He had to get better.

"He's at the firing range." you and Penelope speak in unison, making eye contact, as hers narrow. You knew instantly she would have questions about why you of all people knew Spencer's whereabouts.

"Again?" JJ questions as you shrug your shoulders, her eyes flitting towards you.

"Ever since Prentiss died, he..." Penelope speaks your thoughts.

"Right." JJ nods her head. "Uh... did you guys just get a new case?" she questions, hands clasping together in front of her.

"It's just an old one." Derek answers.

"Do you want some fresh eyes?" she asks, and it's painfully clear that she's still figuring out how to feel more like the team again.

"Not just yet." Derek denies, and he's polite, but you knew why he was being this way. You were all for keeping anything related to Doyle under wraps until you were further along.

"Ok. Um, well let me know." she hums, and then she looks back at you. "Y/N, can I..." your eyebrows raise as she trails off. "Can we talk? It'll only take a second." she hopes, and you look to Derek and Penelope for a moment.

"We won't do anything big without you." Derek promises, and you nod, closing the file, and handing it off, before you stand to your feet. You follow JJ out of the office, and down the hallway, stopping just before you reach the heart of the bullpen. You look to her expectantly, a bit confused, but not on edge. You had missed JJ, and in the two months she'd been back, it'd been pretty hard to get some real time with her. You'd hoped a break in the case would help to change that.

"Everything okay, Jaige?" you ask, and you witness how she exhales in relief right in front of you.

"God, it is now." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. She seems to understand the confusion on your face as she lets out a chuckle, dispelling more of her own tension. "You've been calling me Agent Jareau since I got back... not JJ and definitely not Jaige." she explains, as it seems to register for you. "I guess I was just a little worried I'd done something to make you mad at me." she admits, and she's clearly sheepish.

"Oh." you chuckle yourself, and you reach out to hold her shoulder. "No, you've done nothing wrong." you promise. "I've just been a bit in my head these last few weeks, but I'm really glad you're back." JJ beams at your words, and all the remaining tension in her posture dissipates instantly.

present day.

"Hey, everything alright?" you look up, pulled from your thoughts at the presence of Spencer Reid. He's holding a medium cup of a steaming liquid that you can only assume is coffee, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "I remember you asked me a few weeks ago about coffee." he holds it out, and you're quick to press your phone to your shoulder, neck craning slightly as you take it.

"Thanks, Spence." you mumble, and you can practically hear your sister's smirk from the other line. "Could you just give me one second, I'm talking to my sister?" you question, and Spencer nods his head, eyes widening in understanding. You smile politely, and he beams back at you, pretty eyes seemingly brightening before he's making his way over to Derek who's smirking like the nuisance he is.

"Hey." you mumble once he's gone, and your sister is snickering. For some odd reason she'd been dropping hints that maybe the guy on the team you should be setting your sights on was Spencer. To your defense, it wasn't like he wasn't attractive. You'd be an idiot to deny his boyish charm and good looks, but after he'd sat you down and admitted he had a crush on JJ, back during his second year, you'd sort of blocked any potential attraction towards him out of your head.

Now he was just Spence.

"Hey, I should go. I just wanted to check in, Spence made me aware of everything so I've got everything figured out on this end." she promises you, and you nod once more despite yourself. "Just think about what I said, alright? It'd be a shame for you to leave behind such a good job." she finishes, and you don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. "Call me later?" she questions, though you know she's telling you more than asking.

"I will." you reply, and she sounds pleased as she exhales.

"I'll talk to you soon." and then the phone is clicking. You adjust your grip on your coffee, using your free hand to grab your phone, and place it down on your lap. The coffee smelled good, it was from that cute shoppe that sold different pastries and always smelled like cinnamon. You'd been there with Spencer and Penelope a handful of times, and they always made your coffee exactly how you liked it. Still, Spencer had never ordered for you so you await a mishap.

The first sip warms you up instantly, and you're knocked flat on your ass by how on point the drink was. Your eyes snap upwards, looking across the lobby towards Spencer, who's awkwardly sitting in a seat, Derek beside him. JJ was gone now, but you figured she was probably with Hotch and Emily, the three of them had been attached at the hip since the team was "back together". You're certain them being gone was what led you to standing to your feet.

You walk towards Derek and Spencer quietly, slipping into a seat next to Spencer as Derek leaned up against the wall. "I didn't know that you knew my coffee order." you whisper, and Spencer turns to look at you. He offers a half smile, you were certain you'd be passing a lot of those back and forth until the court proceedings were done with.

"Of course I do." he shrugs his shoulders. "I pay attention when you talk." he promises, and you wonder why he had to like JJ, and why you had to like Hotch. On paper, and off paper Spencer Reid was the perfect candidate for boyfriend, plus he never pretended to be into you to keep you from finding out the truth. You both fall into silence, there's not much else to say, but you let his words repeat in your head. I pay attention when you talk. It makes your stomach twist.

"You alright over there, pretty girl?" Derek's voice barely reaches over a whispered volume. It seemed you all were feeling the dreary aftershocks of an ordeal like the one you'd found yourselves in. You look up at Derek tiredly, and you don't understand why he's asking you this, not until you feel the scalding heat of hot coffee singing your skin. Two sets of worried eyes are drawn to your cup, it's squished in your palm, brown liquid streaming everywhere.

"Shit." you hiss, and the cup falls to the floor, you're quick to clutch your burnt hand. God, you were really torn up over this.

"I'll get this cleaned up." Derek promises, and he looks at Spencer as if he was communicating something he didn't want you privy to. Spencer falters, only for a second before he's reaching out for your forearm, and guiding you to your feet. You trail after him, walking down the long corridor, listening out for the telltale sign that Penelope was done, and they'd be calling you next. On your route you pass JJ who looks concerned as she looks between the two of you.

"Spence, Y/N?" she says, and you avert your gaze, you're not sure if you're more angry or embarrassed.

"Sh-she spilled some coffee." Spencer explains, but he doesn't stop walking. "Shouldn't be more than a first degree burn, if she soaks her hand for five minutes, everything should be fine." he is passive as he speaks, eyes never quite meeting hers as he continues to lead you.

"Let me take her." JJ offers, and both you and Spencer are quick to offer denials. She looks hurt but masks it quickly. "It's not like you can go into the girl's bathroom with her, right?" she says and it's then you both realize you've got no other choice. He looks to you, trying to gauge how you'd feel about it, and you sigh. Maybe this was for the best, you could finally get things off your chest with JJ. It was only fair. He seems to clock the instant you've decided, and concedes.

"I'll be right out here." he promises, and you nod slowly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't get the chance to.

"Spence." JJ says his name a bit more sternly, and he resists the urge to cut his eyes in her direction. He ignores her long enough to take in your ailed hand, he saw the way the skin began to redden and swell. He seems cross as he passes you off to JJ, and you feel a bit silly being fussed over for something as minute as a coffee burn. JJ's earnest in the way she takes you to the nearest women's restroom. You hiss the second the cold water comes in contact with your skin.

You don't say anything to JJ though, losing your nerve the second the two of you were alone. She looks like she's waiting for you to say something though, eyes brimming with some sort of unease. She was reading you, using her new skills to profile you. You suppose that's exactly what pushes you to finally speak. "We said we'd never profile one another." you remind her crossly, and she's sheepish. "Just because you're doing it in your head doesn't make it any less invasive." you keep your wrist in place, hissing silently.

"If you would just talk to me I wouldn't have to go that far." she counters, and you blink. Fair, but you had every right to keep your distance from her. Just because the rest of the team was still more or less unaware of JJ's role in harboring the secret of Emily, you'd read right through her.

"What's there to talk about exactly?" you ask. "None of us want to be here dealing with this." and you take the route of the naive girl.

"I'm not talking about with the trial... and the senators." she shakes her head, and she's almost pleading as she tries to catch your eyes in the mirror. "I'm talking about Emily." she deadpans. "Everything that happened?" she proceeds. "You've hardly said a word to her since she came back." she doesn't want to come off like she's scolding you, and so she takes in a breath before her tone can become defensive.

"I don't speak to ghosts." and it's a quiet little dig that she hears all the same. It forces a tense silence to wash over the restroom, the only sound slicing through the awkwardness is the water rushing from the spout. JJ clears her throat, blinking a few times as she adjusts your wrist, allowing the water to evenly coat your burn. Only a few more minutes of this and you could make your grand escape.

"That's not fair." she finally voices her thoughts with a deep sigh.

"Isn't it?" you snap. "Seven months we thought she was dead." and you suppose that was a mistake of hers, getting you started. "Pretty lucky that you were off at the Pentagon, right?" you ask sourly. "Or was it lucky that you were in on the whole scam? I mean you were at the funeral, but you didn't have to cry, you didn't have to grieve." you accuse, and JJ's jaw slackens, clearly surprised at your outburst.

"I lost my friend too, okay?" she counters and you scoff.

"Did you?" you argue. "All those nights I called you crying, all those texts, those check ins... how long did you know Emily was still alive?" you demand, and JJ's feeling cornered, and her heart rate is picking up. She knew there'd be mixed feelings about this, but she'd never expected to ever be at odds with you. You, Spencer, and JJ rounded out the younger crowd on the team, it was your job to stick together. "Answer me." you insist, and you sound so crushed as you speak.

"I knew the whole time." she answers, and you nod your head, because of course you already knew.

"Exactly." you sneer. "You're a liar." you hate how angry this whole thing makes you, but you can't deny it. They'd played with your feelings, all of them, and now you were meant to behave like nothing was wrong. "Did you know about Hotch?" you ask, and JJ flinches. She doesn't answer for a while, and the water seems to rush even louder in your ears.

"I told him it wasn't smart." she finally answers. "But we needed to ensure that Emily wasn't at risk, it was harmless... just some flirting to keep you from getting too close to the truth." and JJ is speaking as if this wasn't some major breach of your position as coworkers and alleged friends. "He'd never cross the line." she reminds you, and the reminder that yeah, Hotch would never be with you makes you wince.

"And he didn't." she says this like she knows for certain. "It was flirting, Y/N. it didn't mean anything, we just needed you to..." and she trails off when she sees how destroyed you look at her admission. "Y/N..." she trails off, and you inhale sharply.

"Don't." you exhale, and you snatch your hand from her grasp. The cool air of the bathroom immediately attacks the welts blooming on your hand. You don't have time to pay them any mind.

"We just wanted to protect you... and keep Emily safe in the process. The more of us that knew Emily was alive, the more of a liability we'd be while Doyle was still on the run." she says, and you suppose in the grand scheme you understand. As profilers, as special agents working for the FBI they'd done great work. As your friends, as people you'd considered family for years... they'd betrayed you.

Plain and simple.

"Congratulations, you did exactly what you meant to." you say dully, and you sniffle, though no tears are set to come. Instead you feel more anger blossoming in the pit of your gut. "I hope it was worth it." and it's dramatic, but you deserve the dramatics, sidestepping the blonde and leaving her behind just as Emily is stepping inside. She looks at you wide-eyed, before she sees JJ standing there seemingly frazzled.

"Is everything okay?" she questions, and you don't offer her an answer, instead leaving the restroom as your earlier words ring in your head. I don't talk to ghosts. And you don't, and despite your history you'd never allow yourself to. You find your way back to the seats that led to the courtroom, Derek was gone, the only person still there was Spencer. He stands up as soon as he hears your shoes.

"Where's Derek?" you ask quietly.

"He left with Garcia." he answers quietly. "I guess they're dismissed for now. They're in with Dave now." he explains, and your eyes shift to the door. More than likely you or Spencer would be next.

You sit down, and Spencer follows you, sinking back into his seat as his legs just barely brush against yours. "Are you scared?" you ask, and Spencer's head shakes.

"Are you?" he shoots back, and you look away from the door.

"Not of this." you admit. "But of what comes after." you add and Spencer's pretty brown eyes are swimming with confusion. "Can we really all bounce back from something like this?" you ask, and it's rhetorical, but he answers you all the same.

"We've come back from worse." he reminds you, and that faint smile is worming back onto your face.

"Sure we have." you agree numbly. Spencer's eyes drop to your hand.

"How does it feel?" he asks, and you follow his gaze with a shrug of your shoulders. He doesn't look pleased by this approach, and it makes you sigh.

"Just feels like I ran some water over it." you admit, and Spencer chuckles. "A bit anticlimactic if I'm honest with you, Doctor." and you're partly teasing, mostly because it's so easy.

"You'll need some sort of petroleum jelly... there's some pretty good products that aren't at all carcinogenic like the leading brands." he begins on a tangent, and it makes you smile a bit bigger. "That with some gauze is the perfect remedy for such a mild burn." he proceeds and you look down at it. There's a moment of silence between you, before he's talking again. "Can I ask what happened?" he whispers.

You hum, almost like you're pretending you can't hear him.

"With the coffee? Was it not good? I tried to follow your order exactly." he says and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"It wasn't you or the coffee, Spence." you promise him, and without thinking you reach out, small hand resting on his shoulder. "The coffee was perfect." you insist, and he relaxes, but not enough. "I guess I'm just thrown about all of this." you proceed. "No matter how much I try to remind myself that they did this to protect Emily... that their deception was for a good reason, it just makes me angrier. Why is it that I have to rationalize being angry?" you question.

"I have to reign my feelings in for the sake of the team." you're careful not to grow loud. Spencer's eyebrows are pressed inwardly, head shaking.

"You don't." he denies you quickly. "You shouldn't." he corrects.

"You're right." you agree, and your silent for only a second. "I wish everyone could be like you, Spence." you say, and your words surprise him. He feels this familiar wave of adoration that always seems to swallow him whole whenever he was around you.

"Really?" he knows it might be pathetic, to be hopeful for something like this. The chance to hear what popped in your head whenever you thought of him.

"Yeah." you say firmly, and he tries not to look too eager. "You're so smart." you tell him, and he knows this, but it still feels nice hearing it from you. "And you're always nice to me." you add with a quiet laugh. "And you'd never lie to me would you?" you ask, and in truth, it's not a fair question. Spencer wasn't in the position the others were in.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and he fears it may be the wrong response. You don't even react, at least not that he can tell.

"Nothing." you settle on, head shaking from side to side. "Forget I mentioned it." and he doesn't really want to remind you that his memory quite literally makes that impossible. "I heard that you weren't fighting the suspension." you say conversationally, and he's surprised, mostly because the only person he'd told about that was Derek. Which meant you had been talking about him when he wasn't around.

"I guess I just stand by everything we did." he tells you, and your hand still hurts a bit, but it's definitely a problem for a later version of you.

"Me too. I'm glad we got Doyle, and Declan's safe." you exhale, and despite your anguish towards the team, you meant every word.

"And the team's back together." Spencer himself doesn't sound so convinced. You look over at him at this, your own unconvinced expression slowly cracking through his attempt at a cool facade.

"Is it?" you ask, and Spencer's face softens, a small little frown taking over his otherwise usually content face. He couldn't admit it now, mostly because it didn't feel like the right time, but he paid attention to you. He knew all about your complicated feelings for Hotch "I don't want to be on a team with people who purposely keep me in the dark about things." you ask, and Spencer pauses.

"I'm sure they wouldn't if they had another choice." he offers, and it's not how he feels at all, but it's what you need to hear.

"You don't believe that." you deny, and Spencer can't fight his chuckle. "Or maybe you do, you've always been good at seeing the best in people."

"Oh, do you think so?" it's a bit of a surprise. With your job description it would've made more sense for you to tell him that he saw the worst in people. He felt it was a fair thing to say that he was exceptionally good at his job, but it's then he recognizes what it is you're truly saying, or at least alluding to. It makes his face heat up immediately, cheeks blossoming a rosy red that makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Of course." you promise, and then you're looking at him again. Your face is one of the prettiest he's ever seen, and it's not even subtle. You seem a bit uncertain of your own allure though, which to him is a major shock. "You're like the best person ever." you add, and he expects you to snicker or show some sign that you were joking, but you don't. Bad for him, because his deluded mind full of fantasies starring you would take words like those the wrong way.

"I think you're the best person ever..." he's whispered this, but you hear it all the same, and he's lucky enough to witness the way your entire face morphs. Despite the bleariness in your eyes, you beam brightly. He hates though, that you start to cry. It starts with one tear slipping down your cheek and dripping into your lap. The onslaught comes right after, and before you know it, you're choking on sobs.

"God..." he hears the bitter tang of self-loathing that attaches and weaves itself into your otherwise honey-filled tone. "You're making this so hard, Spencer." you huff, and you scrub at your face harshly. He doesn't understand, but he's too frozen in place to ask you what you mean. Lucky him, you seem to know that you've got explain a bit, so you do. "I'm gonna resign." you say this quietly, sniffling as more tears fall. Spencer feels like he's misheard you.

He wants to have misheard you. He flounders a bit, and he's mentally scolding himself, because he has to hurry the fuck up and say something. "You can't!" and he's scolding himself again for sounding too eager. You jump a bit at the outburst, and he winces right along with you. "We just got everyone back." he reminds you, and you exhale, head nodding in understanding.

"I know." you promise him. "Why do you think this is so hard. You think I want to be the asshole that turns the unit on its head?" you ask. "But I can't stay here and pretend that everything's fine... or act like I don't feel thrown about all of this." you proceed, and of course, Spencer understands, he's upset he was lied too as well.

"I understand." he admits with a sigh, and you let out a quiet noise of relief, almost like you were worried he'd be upset with you. He assumes this is just him being delusional again. You look like you have something sitting on the tip of your tongue, so he stays silent to give you the room to say all that you need to.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone?" you ask. You chuckle at the look he shoots you, "Not just for a second, Spence." you proceed. "I mean like... take your breath away, kind of almost-in-love feelings." you indulge, and Spencer's keen to shut his mouth. Yes, is the loud and resounding answer that rings in his head, because foolishly he'd allows you to captivate him like the siren you were almost three years prior. He'd be a dummy to tell you such now though.

"I-" he blinks harshly, eyes feeling too dry. "I can't say I have." he lies, and he remembers your words from earlier, how you'd praised him for being someone who would never lie to you. You don't seem to notice his deception though, and if you do, you're too in your own head to comment on it.

"Good." you say with a shuddered breath. "They're nothing but a headache, especially when the person doesn't want you back." you exhale the words, and it's like a dagger is being lunged into his chest. How dense could you possibly be with all your super smarts?

"Did something happen with Hotch?" he asks, and now it's your turn to be embarrassed, face pinching up as you choke on a breath. "I don't mean to pry, if it's personal... it's just that-" he trails off, seemingly waiting for you to berate him or tell him to back off. You don't, instead your nose twitches, and you begin to look at your shoes. "Y/N?" he nudges you with his elbow, and it's light.

"No." you finally say, head shaking. "I thought maybe..." you trail off, more embarrassment slicing at you as you cringe. "But it was all a ruse, just a way to keep me from getting too close, and figuring out everything about Emily before they wanted us to know." you say and Spencer's eyebrows furrow.

"They?" he pries, and you look at him like he's silly.

"Hotch and JJ." you answer plainly, and it takes Spencer a second. JJ who he'd went to for comfort for ten weeks? He blinks at you, and you shrug. "So you see... anyone that could take my feelings and use them to manipulate me... are they really worth sticking around for?" you ask, and Spencer doesn't want to validate you in this way. He wants to be selfish, he wants you to stay on the team.

He thinks about how devasted everyone would be. How devasted he would be to walk into the bullpen and find that your desk was empty.

"I don't want you to go..." he admits, and it's quite pitiful, the sadness that soaks the words like gasoline. You find yourself chomping on your lip again, nails pressing into the cuts of your palms, and Spencer's catching your bad habits in real time.

It's a bit invasive, the way his hand surges out, and stops you in your tracks. "Please don't do this." and you're not sure if he's talking about leaving the unit, or if he's referring to the gashes littering your hands. When he holds your palm out flat, and rubs his thumb across the bleeding indentations, you find that you understand quickly.

Every few seconds it's ebbing with more droplets of blood, and he's quick to wipe them away like they offend him. Just as he's moving to say something else, the doors to the courtroom are opening, and Dave Rossi is exiting, his eyes immediately on you and Spencer. You must look foolish, hands intertwined as you stare wide-eyed at the team's senior agent. It's probably why Spencer is dropping your hand as you're snatching it away from his grasp.

You still find that your eyes are quick to appraise one another. He's looking at you, and you're staring back, mouths parted as if you'd been caught. Had you been caught? Had there really been anything to catch? You don't have time to answer, because you're being called next. You frown at Spencer, standing to your feet as he feels his pulse threaten to leap to disrespectful speeds.

"Y/N..." he calls after you, and you stop for a second. Eager eyes fall back on him, and he's trailing off, because the look in your eyes says it all. If you got out of this without being fired, you could imagine a world where quitting the FBI no longer made you sick to your stomach. Silence befalls the space, and he shakes his head after a beat. You look disappointed but not surprised, inhaling deep and audibly as you march towards the court room.

Spencer doesn't know what you're going to say, but he hopes recalling all you'd been through in the last few weeks will be enough to make you stay. At least until he has the courage to ensure that you leaving the team doesn't equate to losing you entirely and completely.

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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months

Text

Together

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> The team knows something is up between yourself and Hotch, except Rossi seems to be the only one to put the pieces together.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of sick. Fluff. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The whole team knew something was up. They just didn’t know what.

Usually, you were normal with everyone. Chatty. Smiley. Professional. Maybe a little blunt every now and again.

But not this time.

For the last week you had been…cold. Well, not with them, at least.

But with Hotch? You had been as cold as ice.

But no-one could pin why.

Even if it had just been small things, like the feeling in the meeting room in the morning when it just seemed to be the two of you, or the small looks you both gave each other – which had started out as awkward, but then quickly turned to shame and clear annoyance, the latter being much more clear on your end. It was definitely clear now.

From the beginning of the case, you had been quick to change subjects. Always staying on the case, which was normal. But not your abruptness to do so. And when Hotch tried to pull you aside as the others made their way to the main doors, you brushed him off.

Hotch was someone you never brushed off. Not until recently.

And when you all landed in Seattle, Hotch was assigning teams for who was driving. But before he could place you with himself, JJ and Morgan, you pushed past him.

“I’m going with Rossi.”

And Hotch didn’t say a word.

Instead, he watched you walk away with your go bag, throwing it into the trunk with Dave. He gave his orders to Prentiss on what would happen and she updated you in the car.

However, forty five minutes into a ninety minute drive, Emily’s voice started to make you feel dizzy. Then the heat in the car felt like it was blasting. So you rolled down the window. But that didn’t help.

“Garcia said she’s already sent over some case files- Hey, you okay?”

From the backseat, Emily leaned forward to get a better look at you.

“I’m fine.”

But five minutes later, you changed your mind.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Okay, okay. Just hold on.”

The car had barely been put into park by the time you threw the door open, tore your seatbelt away and ran out.

Less than ten feet from the open car door, the last three drinks and meal you ate came straight back up and soaked into the dry grass.

You heard a second car pull up behind and then heard Morgan and Hotch’s voice. Dave had already reached you, placing a hand on your back before pulling your hair back.

“Okay, take it easy. Are you okay?”

You could only hum before throwing up once more. He rubbed circles on your back for a moment before you finally finished throwing up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Is she okay? Y/n, are you-”

“I’m fine!” You called out, a little harsher than you had intended.

Holding out a hand, Rossi signalled for Hotch to stop and stay where he was with the others.

“She’s okay, she just needs a minute. Emily, do we have water in the car?”

“Yep, here.”

Making her way over, Emily poured some water onto a tissue before handing it to you. You wiped down your mouth and your hand before being handed the bottle by Dave.

“Small sips, okay? Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, your back still to the rest of the team. “I just need a minute.”

“Aaron, we’ll meet you there.”

It took him a minute before he moved back to the car, but Hotch eventually nodded, calling out they’d see them at the precinct.

“Do you know what it could be?” Emily asked.

“Probably just some bad sushi.”

Emily nodded before getting back into the car.

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Rossi asked once she was out of earshot.

And for a moment, you paused.

“Let’s just get going.”

Things only seemed to get worse from there.

You managed to hide it as best as you could from the rest of the team, but every hour you had spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom throwing your guts up.

A couple of officers did question where you had been when they couldn’t find you but hadn’t seen you leave the building. One mention of Aunt Flow and they didn’t ask again.

Your coldness with Hotch didn’t ease, either. It just seemed to become more frigid. And everyone saw it.

By the third day in Seattle, Prentiss and Morgan had questioned you on it in the break room.

“Yeah, what do you have against Hotch all of a sudden? What, one week away from us and you’ve suddenly made an agenda against him?”

“Because I love you, I’m going to ask this only once. Please don’t ask about Hotch.”

Morgan and Prentiss looked between each other, slightly worriedly, but both silently agreed to drop it.

“But you will sort it out?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know.”

A few hours later, you were coming back out of the bathroom when Rossi seemed to jump out at you.

“Jeez. Rossi. Give a girl some warning next time.”

Dave smiled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Have we caught a break?”

“No, but I need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“About the fact you’re running to the bathroom every hour to throw up.”

“Like I said, it was probably just some bad food. I’ll be okay.”

Only, as you started walking away, Rossi asked you a question.

“What happened between you and Hotch?”

“Nothing.” You answered, your back still to him.

“Really? Because I wouldn’t call it nothing. I’d call it strange.”

“Rossi, I’ve asked Morgan and Prentiss-”

“I know, and I heard. But, to be frank, I think you’re lying and you’re too scared to tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?”

But rather than voice it, Rossi just gave you a look. It took you a moment before you cracked a little.

“Rossi…”

“You don’t have to tell me how or what happened, but I’m asking, just find out the truth. You don’t have to tell anyone. But I think the sooner you do it, the better it will be.”

“We’re in the middle of a case.”

Rossi shrugged, “Morgan and JJ are on their way back. Reid’s got it handled here. We’ll pick up some coffee on the way back as a cover. Let’s just go now.”

You seemed to hesitate, and Rossi could see it.

“Please, for my sanity's sake?”

“Okay.”

Twenty minutes later, you found a pharmacy and picked up a box.

“Can you wait outside the door for me?”

“Of course.”

And he did.

Once you paid for the box, the cashier directed you to a bathroom in the back. Except, long after the two minutes were up, you still hadn’t come out. So, Rossi knocked on the door.

You swung it open and he jumped back a little.

“I can’t look at it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to at some point.”

“I’ve wiped it down and it’s got a cap but…can you look? I’m too scared.”

Rossi could see the fear in your eyes. Oh, how two little lines could instil so much fear into people who dealt with crime every day.

Handing the package to Rossi, he turned it around and pulled it out of the packet.

“I believe congratulations are in order.”

Turning it around so you could see, you took it back into your grasp as you pushed one hand through your hair.

“Oh, my god.”

“I think you and Hotch need to have a conversation.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

Rossi smiled, holding your hand which he could feel shaking. “You have my word.”

Somehow, back in the precinct, you managed to keep your cool. You’d brought back coffee for the team and, despite the fact you caught Hotch watching you from his seat, noticing your shaking hand, you pulled it back and found a spare pen from JJ’s notepad and spun it over and over in your fingers.

Thankfully, due to the “food poisoning”, you had been kept out of the field when it came to finding the unsub. However, this just gave you a very large sense of dread. You watched them all run out of the door, Rossi placing a hand on your arm talking directly to you.

“I’ll look out for him.” He told you before the others could hear him.

“Thank you.”

Possibly carrying Hotch’s child made watching him and the team run out of the door, without you, made that sense of dread practically triple. Especially considering no-one other than Rossi knew the truth, or at least a part of it, about yourself and Aaron.

Thankfully, no-one got hurt and the unsub was apprehended in time before he could hurt anyone else. They all came back with looks of relief and tiredness when you saw them, but there was a barely visible look of confusion and perhaps, hopefulness, on Hotch’s face when your scowl at him didn’t seem so cold.

On the plane ride back, you were quiet. Everyone was, but there was just an air about you that told those paying attention to you that you were in your own world.

Of course, Rossi knew why.

But it was tearing at Hotch why he didn’t.

Pulling back into the office, Penelope greeted you all by the elevator, hugging you all. And handing you some dry crackers and a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Garcia.”

As everyone said their goodnights, you watched as Hotch walked directly through the bullpen and towards his office.

“I think there are a couple of things you and he need to talk about.”

You nodded, with a light smile. “You’re right.”

Rossi kissed you cheek before saying goodnight and saluting you before the elevator doors closed. You did a small one back before turning your gaze back to the dim lights coming from Hotch’s office.

However, first, you ran to the bathroom.

Sitting at his desk, Hotch was halfway finished with the last of his reports when a knock came to his door.

Looking up from his desk, there was a slight look on his face that told you he wasn’t expecting you. And you couldn’t be surprised. You’d barely been able to look him in the eye for the last month and a half, and you’d been nothing but cold and if a little harsh with him for the last couple of weeks.

“Is everything okay?”

“Can we talk?”

Hotch nodded. “Come on in.”

You nodded back, entering, but closing the door behind you. Which made Hotch stand.

“Is everything-”

“I’m pregnant.”

A silence settled over the room that you were expecting, but still shocked you. And every possible emotion, some you couldn’t even name, passed over his face before he was forced to sit down.

“Oh.”

“Can I sit?”

He nodded, quickly signalling for you to do so. And so you did.

“What did…How- When did you find out?”

“Sometime in the last twenty four hours.” You answered which confused Hotch, which you could understand. It was a vague explanation. “It’s all been kind of a blur.”

He nodded, understanding what you meant.

“Does anyone…know?”

You nodded. “Rossi.”

“Dave knows?”

“He seemed to know before I did…kinda.”

“What does that mean?”

“I guess I had a feeling when I got carsick, but denial carried me through.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “No. Oh, and, um, I-I took another test to be sure. H-here.”

With a lot of nerves and a lot of awkward courage, you passed the second test across the desk to Hotch who took it in his hands and looked at it.

Two bright pink lines.

Positive test.

“Just so I’m…clear. You are telling me because I’m…”

“The father?” you questioned. “Yes. There wasn’t anyone before or after you for it to be someone else.”

Hotch nodded. “Okay.”

You both sat in silence for a while, taking in what had just happened.

“I, well, I haven’t been to see a doctor yet so I can’t know for certain but these tests are usually pretty accurate.”

Hotch could only nod.

“You’re free to make any decision you wish,” Hotch assured you. “I’ll support you either way.”

You nodded in a small thank you. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do. With our line of work, it gives you the handbook over why you shouldn’t have children. But, if I do decide to do this…I’m prepared to do this on my own. If I am going to do it, I’d prefer to have you in their life.”

Your hand absentmindedly touched your stomach and you looked down to it for a moment.

“But, I’m prepared to do it on my own.”

Hotch took in everything you said and nodded. “Like I said, I’ll support any decision you make but if you do decide to have our child…”

Those two words settled over the both of you.

Our Child.

“One thing you don’t have to worry about is doing it alone. I want to be a part of their life. And whatever support you need, I’ll try and help with.”

You nodded before looking back down to your stomach.

Once again, a silence settled over the both of you and it was like he could hear your brain going into overload with information and feelings. But just as he was about to call your name, you looked up.

Tears were being held tight behind your eyes, but a few words and they were ready to fall free.

“I’m…I’m scared, Aaron.”

It didn’t take him a second thought before he stood up and met you where you were sitting. As he got around his desk, you stood and he embraced you tightly.

He swallowed thickly, nodding and placing a quick kiss to your hair. “It’ll be okay.”

A week later, the team had taken notice of the change between yourself and Hotch. It was no longer cold, but it wasn’t what it was. It was something…uneasy. You had both clearly had a tough talk and were on rocky shores, but you were both finding a way to make it work.

It was also a week later that you had made your decision.

You were going to have a baby.

A lot of different scenarios passed through your mind when you thought about what you were going to do. It would be hard, of course. It would be difficult to work the cases you do and not feel a little more emotionally involved. But you also couldn’t help but think that maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

A part of you had wanted children for a long time, but the thought of actually having them was slipping further and further away the more you worked.

And, despite you feeling selfish, you wanted a baby. You wanted to see a child, your child, grow up and have a life of their own. You wanted to make the memories you had as a kid, but with them.

You knew it would be difficult to do so when you joined the Academy, but part of you always wanted a home filled with the sound of laughter and joy.

And maybe this was your only chance.

And in all honesty, Aaron had similar feelings.

It would be hard, sure. But he also wanted this in his life. He wanted a child. He wanted you in his life, however that would be.

Of course, neither of you had seen this coming when you had run into each other at the Inn you had found. A halfway stop to your actual destination. Only, rather than continuing on your separate journeys for your week’s vacation time, you both found yourselves unable to leave the small town and the safe walls of the local Inn.

It was that part of the story the team would forever speculate on once they found out you were pregnant and it was, in fact, Hotch’s baby.

That was a piece of information they clued together themselves when Hotch called them in for an early meeting, but had confirmation on just a few moments later.

“So, what’s happening here?”

“Are you together?”

“We’re…still figuring that out.” Hotch answered, looking at you.

Neither of you had exactly had the conversation over what you were. Were you a couple? Were you friends? Were you co-workers? Were you just co-workers having a baby together?

HR weren’t exactly happy about the get-together but so long as the relationship wasn’t going to break any codes of conduct within the field, you were both still free to keep working. And more importantly, working together.

However, over the next nine months, certain things seemed to blur.

Aaron came with you to every doctor’s appointment, never missing one. When you had both first heard your baby’s heartbeat, you had clutched onto his hand and not let go. And when the sound got clearer, he pulled you a little closer, rubbing your arm and kissing your hand.

It was a little odd, feeling the baby kick for the first time whilst being stood outside of a crime scene.

Morgan had been with you at the time, quickly calling for Hotch when your posture and face changed from quizzical to concerned. Only, by the time Aaron had reached you both, you laughed and told them what was happening.

Morgan then called JJ over as you guided Aaron’s hand to your stomach. And you both shared an intimate moment, just looking at one another, feeling your unborn baby kick at your stomach for the first time.

JJ was able to confirm what was going on and both herself and Morgan congratulated you before you all remembered where you were and got back to work.

The cold glares you had given Hotch in the weeks leading up to you finding out had disappeared completely after the hug you shared in his office when you told him. And by the time you were entering your second trimester, they had turned into something similar to what they were before everything had changed.

You had both become friends.

He had also relaxed a little more around you, which allowed him space to take in what was actually happening. So, when your cravings started kicking in, he would hand you snacks throughout the days. You wouldn’t even know what you wanted at the time and he just…seemed to know.

And at some point between him attending doctors appointments, helping you with your pregnancy cravings and reading to your belly, you had both begun to live together.

It made sense, at least for the first couple of weeks after the birth and partly during the pregnancy. If you went into labour, it would be safer if someone was with you. And, it meant he was there when, in the middle of the night, you woke up with braxton hicks and panicked a little before getting checked out at the hospital, just in case.

Also, small touches began.

From you holding his hand against your stomach when your baby kicked, to his fingers tracing yours whilst they held that position. Then, in break rooms. They were quick, but light kisses would be pressed to your head or cheek whenever he handed you something. He was always close to you, barely leaving your side when in the field. His hand, always at the small of your back when leading you somewhere. And in the early hours of the morning, his arms would be across you as you both lay in bed, holding you close against his chest.

Until, finally, one night whilst lay in bed, you asked a question.

Both facing each other, despite your eyes being closed, Aaron traced repeated patterns from pushing your hair back to trailing his fingers down your arm to find your hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

Both of you should be fast asleep, yet you weren’t.

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“What are we doing?”

“Sleeping.”

You laughed a little. “No we’re not.”

“I’m sleep talking.”

“Aaron, I’m being serious.”

With a small laugh, Aaron sighed. “Okay, what is it?”

He finally opened his eyes and so did you.

“What are we doing? About us, I mean. We’re having a baby together, but we’re not together together. We work together, but we also live together. What happens after the first couple of months? Do we…what do we do?”

“I suppose we just have to take each day as it comes and see what happens.”

“I can live with that.”

“Or…”

“Oh, no.”

Aaron laughed a little and shook his head, bringing his hand back to your face and brushing the hair from it.

“Or,” he repeated, “we treat this for what it really is.”

“I don’t…” you shook your head.

“I know I don’t regret what happened that week away. Even more so now, but before…before we both found out. I still didn’t regret it. I don’t. We say we live together out of convenience, but I know, at least for me, it’s something more. Now, if for you it’s still out of convenience and bonding for our child, then we can have this conversation when the time comes. But, you should know my feelings for you run deeper than just you being my co-worker and the mother of our child. Do you…could you see yourself…feeling the same?”

The silence that came over both of you for a moment made Aaron worry. Maybe he had gotten it wrong in his head. Maybe you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you were just caught up in the emotions of carrying his child and, since you were in it together, some form of feelings, similar to that of his, were getting blurry.

But then you blinked.

And a light smile graced across your face.

“I do.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. But still, your words echoed louder and louder around his head.

“You…you do?”

You nodded. “I do.”

Aaron took a moment, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was like your first, all over again. Except, this time, rather than a little fear being behind it, considering at the time you were both still co-workers just on vacation, there was nothing but…

Relief.

More specifically, relief for love.

For months you’d both been avoiding the biggest barrier between both of you. Too scared and too fearful that the answer to each question would be some variant of “No.”

And now…

Finally the answer was yes.

Yes to love.

Together.

Yes to a life.

Together.

Yes to a family.

Together.

780 notes · View notes

jareaulover · 5 months

Text

Rejection (Hotchreid)

A/N: I really liked this prompt, I've been wanting to write something with unrequited feelings for a while and I thought this was a good chance. Thank you to @nico5580 for the prompt!! <3 It's pretty short, but that's alright.

Full story below cut, or read on AO3

Word count: 865

“Reid, when you finish your case report Hotch wants to see you in his office.” JJ said as she passed his desk on the way back to her office. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed. What could Hotch want to talk to him about? His performance had been perfect as of late, and he’d completely kicked his dilaudid habit, and he’d been regularly attending AA meetings. So what else was there?

Spencer finished writing his case report fairly quickly and made his way to his supervisor’s office. He felt his heartbeat speed up as he approached the door, his palms started sweating and he had to remind himself to breathe normally. This wasn’t too atypical, though. He’d developed feelings for the older man quite some time ago. And he liked to think that he hid it pretty well. Growing up in an emotionally unstable environment with no one to really confide in had made it easy for him to keep things in.

But, of course, that was to the untrained eye. And Spencer spent most of his time around extremely well trained eyes…

He knocked on the wooden door twice, and then waited. It only took a moment for Hotch’s voice to come through the door, “Come in.” He said, and Spencer obeyed. He opened the door and entered the man’s office. He quickly took a seat in one of the chairs across from Aaron’s desk. He rested one hand on each knee and looked at Hotch expectantly.

Aaron looked at him for a few seconds, almost like he was studying him. His eyes were narrowed, as they usually were, and trained on Spencer. The younger man felt himself begin to sweat under the gaze of his boss.

“What, um,” Spencer’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, “What did you want to talk about?” He asked, carefully. He inwardly celebrated the fact that he had kept his voice so even. This was Hotch, there was no need for Spencer to be so nervous.

“Recently it has come to my attention that you may be harboring certain feelings for a member of this team.” Hotch started, speaking in that overly professional voice of his. Spencer took in a sharp breath, averting his eyes from the man in front of him. His heartbeat was speeding up again, and he was starting to feel like he couldn’t breathe.

“Oh…” He said, lamely. He wasn’t sure how to respond. What had Hotch said again? ‘A certain member of this team’ so maybe… Maybe he didn’t know that it was him. Hotchner continued talking.

“I’ve known for a while, though, Spencer. Even before Derek mentioned it…” His boss admitted, “I’d had my suspicions, but he confirmed it.” Spencer was mentally cursing his coworker/friend. It wasn’t like he had told Derek, but the man was a great profiler and had known Spencer for a long time.

“I-I don’t know what to say…” Spencer said, quietly. He kept his eyes trained down on the carpet, studying the dark material like it would give him all of the answers that he would need.

Things were quiet for a minute, neither man was sure what to say. Aaron broke the silence with a sigh.

“Reid, listen…” He started. Spencer’s heart stung from the rejection that he knew was coming, “I think that its relatively normal to develop certain feelings for someone in a place of authority over you. But it’s just… It’s not something that can work out. Do you understand?” He asked. Spencer bit his lip.

“Um, yes. I-I understand.” Spencer said, barely above a whisper. He didn’t trust his voice, if he spoke any louder he was afraid that he would cry.

“I’m really sorry, Spencer. Is there anything I can do…?” He started to offer, but Spencer shot up from his seat and headed for the door, “Reid-”

“It’s alright, Hotch. Good talk. Um, I’m fine, I’m-” He pursed his lips and pushed through the door, walking out into the bullpen. He quickly gathered his things and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. It was late, anyway, and he needed to be getting home.

“Reid!” He heard Aaron call from the doorway of his office, but he was already halfway to the elevator by then. He pressed the down button, 5 times in quick succession before the doors finally opened and he stepped in. He could hear Aaron’s footsteps approaching the elevator, but the doors close before he go there. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief as the machine began moving down.

The commute home was normal, and once he was in his apartment, he finally let the tears fall. He had known it was stupid as soon as he realized that the feelings he held for Hotch were more than what he held for the other members of his team. Spencer only wished he had been better at hiding the feelings…

He finally got to sleep around 3 am, but at 3:45 his phone went off.

Spencer lifted the device and stared at the text on his screen.

Hotchner: We’ve got a case.

Spencer sighed and got out of bed. This was going to be a long one…

#hotchreid #hotchreid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds ficlet #ficlet #fanfic #Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid #unrequited feelings #hotchreid fanfic #hotchreid ficlet

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years

Text

Unrequited Part 2 (Derek Morgan & male reader)

Warnings: minor violence, angst (everything gets sorted out in the end)

Word count: 1598

Tags: @its-ares @unsolvetheheckoutofit @sebastiansstanswhore

You went over to your current workspace, sitting down and checking over one of the files, hoping to see something you had missed and to fill in some areas you had left blank.

After the ‘briefing’, you all went your separate ways, desperately trying to find a lead. Things got… awkward after the briefing though. You were all still trying to solve the case whilst trying your best to keep professional throughout. Derek and you hadn’t really been talking, it had just been a little awkward a lot of the time. Turns out the case was a difficult one at the best of times. You had sort of… avoided him after the intervention in the conference room. You didn’t see the point in going round after round after round of arguments with the man simply because of something as stupid as a petty crush.

“I’d like to see the file you were working on later, if that’s alright?” Hotch asked as he walked up to you, you looked up and nodded.

“Of course, as soon as it’s finished, I’ll hand it over,”

“Thank you,” You gave him a nod before you walked back over to where you had set your belongings and case file.

A few hours passed before you finally finished the file, you gathered the papers in your hand before slipping it into the file. Standing, you stepped to the side, sliding the chair under the desk before making your way to Hotch.

“Hotch,” You said, approaching him, “Here’s the file I started for you that you wanted,”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” Hotch said curtly, you gave a small nod in response, dropping the file in front of your boss.

Hotch flicked through the file, seeing what you had written throughout the investigation so far, perhaps you had seen something that no one else had but hadn't had the confidence to voice. A small piece of paper that had been carefully folded slipped out. Curious, Hotch unfolded the paper. He sighed as he read over the piece of paper, your handwriting scrawled over it. He didn’t want you to transfer or resign. You belonged in the FBI, you belonged with this team. He knew he probably shouldn’t have read it but he couldn’t help himself (he was worried about you).

Without a word (and a second thought), he strode over to Morgan, placing it in front of him - Hotch knew that you were currently on a coffee run with Reid. He ignored the questioning look he was given and walked off. He knew you would be pissed if you found out.

“We brought doughnuts!” Reid cheered, carrying the box of doughnuts, with you trailing behind him carrying eight hot drinks in two separate carriers.

“And coffee,” You added.

“And coffee!” Spencer nodded with a laugh. You both placed down the goods, grabbing one of each for yourself before you headed over to the area you had been working at for this case. Hotch grabbed one of each for himself before following you, waiting to catch you alone before bringing up what he had planned.

Right. Hotch thought, time to be subtle.

“I won’t let you transfer or resign because of this,”

“What?”

“I won’t let you-”

“I know what you said,” You replied, “I want to know how you know that,”

“I found the note and-”

“You read it?!” You find yourself exclaiming.

“(Y/N)-”

“No,” You cut Hotch off, “I can’t believe you read it, that was personal - or whatever - that wasn’t meant for people to read!”

“It just fell out of the case file,”

You scoffed, “So what? You were like, ‘hey this seems personal, let’s read it anyway’?!”

“No, I-” Hotch paused, “I admit I got curious,”

You held your hand out, “Give me the letter back,”

“I can’t,”

“Can’t? What, why not?”

“Morgan has it,” Hotch stated, feeling the guilt creep in when your eyes widened and a mortified look painted your face.

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief. You watched as guilt flooded through Hotch’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch said, "I wanted him to understand how you were feeling,"

"He's a profiler! If he wanted to know so bad, he could figure it out!"

“I just-”

“I don’t give a shit, Aaron,” You snapped, “I- I can’t believe you did that,”

“(Y/N)-”

“Don’t, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” You cut him off, turning around and walking out of the room. Hotch sighed, letting his head drop to his chest for a moment before straightening up and walking out of the room.

When you exit the room, you head over to Spencer, who’s sipping a cup of coffee that mostly sugar whilst he rereads the casefile for what must be the fifth time in the last hour. “I thought you had an eidetic memory,” You tease.

“I do, it’s just therapeutic,” Spencer answers, looking up at you. You can’t help but smile slightly, he was like the little brother you never had.

“That’s fair enough,” You replied with a shrug, “We all have things that calm us down, I suppose.”

It had been a few hours since the ‘intervention’ per say and you were over it. You manage to catch Derek on his own (which, as it turns out, was a ridiculously hard task to do when everyone was trying to stop that from happening). “I just wanted to apologise for everything that’s happened, it got way out of control and I was out of line for admitting how I felt.” If this was the only way to get rid of the tension, fuck it, you were going to do it.

“Look, I get it, you were desperate-” You weren’t sure what came over you, but the next thing you know you’re punching him, hard. Derek stumbled back with a grunt.

“Don’t you fucking say that again. You hear me? As it turns out, you don’t know me. You don’t get to make assumptions,” You snapped.

“(Y/N), that’s enough,” Aaron’s voice is stern but it fuels your anger, to turn to him.

“Don’t even get me started on you, Aaron.” You watch his face fall slightly and can’t help but feel bad.

“Start packing up, Rossi and Emily have gone to arrest Jacobs,” Hotch says before he turns and leaves.

With the case now wrapped up, you and the team clambered onto the jet. It was awkward to say the least. Hotch sat furthest away from you, clearly wanting to give you the space you wanted, Derek wasn’t too far behind, unsure whether or not you’d deck him again if he sat close to you. It was silent, except from the hushed whispers of JJ and Emily. You sighed, standing up and making your way over to Derek. You falter before sitting down in front of him, he looks up when you sigh.

“The reason he's so protective is because we grew up together. Well, sort of. He was best friends with my sister, he spent most of his time at our house, he became my brother. He's family. Which means he's ridiculously protective by nature,” You say, “I don't know what he said to you and I'm not going to apologise for what he said. Nor am I going to apologise for what I said. But this can't go on. Like you said, we're adults. Maybe it's time you start acting like one too.”

You watch nervously as he thinks it over before giving in, letting out a sigh. "Fine. I'll start acting like an adult too. I'm sorry about everything."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. I could probably have handled it better too, so I'm sorry for that." You responded before holding a hand out, "Truce?"

Derek nodded, shaking your hand, "Truce."

With that sorted, you stand back up, heading over to Aaron. “I’m sorry,” You say with a sigh, “I know you were just trying to help. I was just kind of mortified and didn’t control my actions.”

“That’s okay,” He replied, “I’m sorry I showed him the note, I thought if he read it that he would realise that what he said had hurt you and affected you,” There was a small pause, “And I really didn’t want you to resign,”

“How about this,” You begin, “Next time, I won’t think about resigning and you don’t show anyone any weird notes you find that I’ve written myself?”

“That works,” Aaron says, finding himself chuckling slightly at your proposal.

You nodded, “Good.” You said, “So, we’re okay?”

“Everything’s fine on my side,”

You smiled, “Same here,” You replied, “You didn’t tell Allison about this, did you?”

Hotch gave a small, nervous smile, “Okay, maybe…”

You groaned, “Great, now I’m going to have to deal with an interrogation when I get back!”

Hotch laughed, “She’s not that bad,”

“Easy for you to say.”

The jet had landed about two hours ago and most of the team had now gone home. You stared at your phone before groaning and reaching for it, dialling the number on the card.

"Hey, Drew?" You begin, "It's me, (Y/N). You told me to phone when I had gotten over the guy from the other night, soo, call Mr back when you get this, I guess." With that, you end the call, placing your phone on your desk in front of you.

Within minutes, it lights up, vibrating loudly. You grab it, answering it immediately. "Well, that was fast," Drew's voice seeping through the speaker makes you smile.

"I had someone to take my mind off the heartbreak,"

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #derek morgan #mean derek morgan #aaron hotchner #older brother aaron hotchner #david rossi #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #derek morgan x male reader #derek morgan x reader #x reader #x male reader #unrequited love

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chvoswxtch · 10 months

Note

A fic where reader likes Aaron but is like 20 years younger than him (I checked the math, even at the start of the show, he was 43 so that wouldn't have been weird. Unless u find that weird? Pretend i said 10 years if that weirds u out) and she thinks she doesn't have a chance with him and that he wouldn't even consider her. And so she just pines over him with the unrequited crush blues. Maybe hotch seems to "baby" her and be extra protective of her so she chalks it up to being the baby of the team. Meanwhile he does not view her as a baby. At all. And maybe he doesn't even realize he treats her any different. Angst welcome! Definitely romance

She/her pronouns for the fic if u want to do it please 🙏 and thank u 😁

– Zee

MY DARLING ZEE

I have been SO excited to post this one, so thank you for requesting it. as usual, I got carried away, but it's daddy hotch so I apologize for nothing

enjoy ;)

warnings: swearing, lots and lots of angst word count: 4.5k

baby.

Furious didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt currently. The entire cabin of the jet was thick with tension radiating from your barely concealed rage, and for a split second you felt guilty, because the team’s discomfort was more than palpable. But as your gaze wandered to the opposite end of the jet and you caught sight of the culprit of your vexation, brooding heavily in your direction, any sliver of remorse evaporated from your pores and your eyes instantly hardened in response.

Fucking Aaron Hotchner.

Hotch’s thick dark brows were pinched together, creating a crease of annoyance right between them, and his lips were pressed in a line that was harsher than usual, causing his frown lines to settle even deeper into the skin around his mouth. His deep umber eyes were void of any warmth, and there was no evidence of faint mirth creasing around them. Instead his lethal gaze was cold as steel, and as rigorous as stone.

You had seen a more intense version of that look several times before whenever he interviewed unsubs that made monsters look like fairytales, and normally it sent a chill down your spine. Not because you were scared of your boss; quite the opposite actually. Every time you watched him stare down the worst of humanity with an aura of disinterest and a hard glare that showed he was completely unimpressed, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. Especially on the rare occasions when he lost his temper and ended up slamming his hands on the table while yelling in their face. You found that incredibly hot.

From the day you met Hotch for your interview, you had found him attractive. Intimidating as hell, but attractive. The fact that he was your boss didn’t deter you from developing a little crush on him, or the fact that he was a widower with a six year old son. None of that stopped the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time he gave you a tiny bit of praise in the form of a “good job”, or a simple nod of approval. In fact, the more Hotch warmed up to you, the worse your little crush got.

You found yourself grinning whenever someone made him crack the tiniest of smiles, and nothing fueled your ego more than his quiet snort whenever you said something he seemed to find funny. Hotch surprisingly had a great sense of humor when the stress of being the unit chief of the B.A.U. wasn’t looming over his head. He could be stubborn and closed off sometimes, and he wasn’t always the best with words, but you could tell by his actions that he truly cared about his team. Unfortunately for you, his treatment revealed exactly how he saw you.

The baby of the team.

It was no secret that’s how the rest of the team saw you too. Derek had been teasingly, but affectionately, referring to you as “Baby Spice” since your first day because you were by far the youngest member of the team and beyond feisty. Spencer even joined in with the nicknames, jokingly calling you “kid” with a proud grin now that he was no longer the youngest, even though there was less than a five year gap between the two of you, which Rossi constantly reminded him of with a smack to the back of his head. At a certain point you realized that Rossi just enjoyed messing with Spencer, but you still grinned at him in appreciation every time he came to your defense.

Even though you were far from being a child, Hotch still treated you differently than the others, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. He was far more protective of you, not allowing you to go anywhere alone when the team was working a case, and he hardly ever wanted you in the interrogation room with unsubs. Only after Emily backed you up, insisting it was important to your training, did he finally allow you to interrogate. But it was under the strict condition that he was always the one in the room with you. He never allowed you to enter a crime scene or a suspected location of an unsub first, and the first time you got injured while on a case, resulting in the tiniest of a cut above your eyebrow, Hotch forced you to take a leave of absence for two weeks.

You made it three days before you burst into his office and demanded that he end your leave.

He didn’t.

Because of the way Hotch seemed to “baby” you, it resulted in the rest of the team doing it too. Emily and JJ weren’t as bad about it, but they definitely put themselves in front of you anytime a situation got dangerous. Derek and Hotch were by far the worst and the most obvious about being overprotective, but Spencer and Rossi weren’t far behind. The only one that ever treated you as an equal was Garcia, and that’s why she was your favorite.

And the only one you confided in about your little crush on your boss. Although, you were sure Emily and JJ had caught on by now. They always flashed you a teasing smirk and a little wink anytime they caught you silently pining.

But that was what seemed to solidify that you would never have a chance with Hotch. Not that he was your boss, or that he had traumatically lost his wife, or that he had a young son, or even the fact that he was a good twenty years older than you. It was that he seemed to view you more as a helpless child than a capable woman.

As soon as the jet landed, you were the first one off. You could hear Hotch’s shoes stomping along the floor of Headquarters right on your heels. While you stopped at your desk to drop off your go bag, fully prepared to get your shit and leave, his angry march continued up the stairs towards his office, but he never once took his irritated glare away from your figure.

“Y/L/N, my office. Now.”

Gritting your teeth hard, you turned your head to shoot daggers in his direction, but he had already disappeared into his office. Disregarding the sympathetic concern from your coworkers, you furiously made your way up the stairs and made a dramatic show of slamming the door to Hotch’s office forcefully behind yourself, which in turn made his eyes narrow into vehement slits as he looked at you. He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders while he stepped around his desk to stand a few feet away from you. He looked absolutely pissed, but you were too lost in your own rage to care.

“You were completely out of line-”

“Oh, bullshit! I was doing my job-”

“I gave you a direct order and you ignored it, putting yourself and the entire team at risk.”

Hotch’s voice rose in volume when you combated his critique, and even though you had spoken over him first, the fact that he was now doing it to you only fueled your anger further. You took a bold step forward and glared up at Hotch as you grit your rebuttal out through your teeth.

“I saved that kid’s life-”

“By being reckless! You could’ve gotten him killed. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”

“But I didn’t! No one got hurt, so what the fuck is the issue-”

“The issue is you.”

Hotch’s comment quickly halted the verbal punch you were about to throw, and as you glared up at him, you noticed that his nostrils were flaring with fury and that his darkened eyes were wild and blown open with pure unbridled rage. The sting of his words caused the wildfire flaring inside of you to shrink to the dull roar of a fireplace blaze. Crossing your arms over your chest in a sign of defiance, you lowered the volume of your voice and layered it with acidity.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Hotch narrowed his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with resentment, as he took another step towards you, faintly cocking his head to the side.

“Excuse me?”

He was giving you an opportunity to correct yourself. But one thing Hotch hadn’t seemed to learn about you was that you could be just as stubborn as he was, and once you reached a certain stage in your wrath, you didn’t back down. You went straight for the jugular.

“If it had been you, you wouldn’t have called it ‘reckless’. But because it’s me, you flip out and blow the whole fucking thing out of proportion because you treat me like I’m a goddamn child-”

“I wouldn’t treat you like a child if you didn’t fucking act like one.”

At this point, there was barely an inch of space between you and Hotch, and you had to tilt your head back slightly just to return his scowl. He might as well have thrown gasoline on the fire with that comment, and you were suddenly completely fed up with no one in this goddamn building viewing you as a grown fucking woman.

“If it had been Derek, or Emily, you wouldn’t be giving them shit like this. You would’ve given them a slap on the wrist, but still acknowledged that they got the job done. So why do I get treated differently-”

“Because you’re not as good as you think you are, and you’re certainly not as good as them.”

That simple statement hurt worse than if Hotch had physically struck you across the face with the back of his hand. All the fury within you suddenly fizzled out, and you stood there dumbstruck while Hotch let out an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned away from you to walk around the corner of his desk and plop down angrily in his chair. He opened the file currently sitting in front of him and directed his irritated attention solely to the pages, reaching for a pen from the holder to his right to wrap his fingers around. He didn’t even look up as he barked out his next order.

“You’re suspended for three weeks. When you return, we’ll discuss your behavior and your future here at the B.A.U.”

Everything felt like it had suddenly come crashing down around you, and you found yourself wondering if it was all worth it. The stress of the job, the never ending hours, the horrors you saw day in and day out, but especially the treatment you received from Hotch and the others. You started to wonder if you had tricked yourself into believing it wasn’t harmful and had all come from a good place, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. For the first time since joining the B.A.U., you found yourself wanting out.

Swallowing the pieces of the lump that threatened to form in your throat, you lifted your chin slightly and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.

“No.”

Hotch quickly lifted his gaze to glower up at you, the thickness of his brows making him appear angrier from where you stood above him. However the second he caught the look on your face, his eyes softened considerably and he sat up straight, the semi permanent frown on his lips vanishing into a subtle line. His eyes followed the movement of your hand while you pulled the gun from the holster at your hip and sat it down in front of him on the desk, along with your badge. There was a brief flash of panic in Hotch’s eyes when he looked at you again, and his lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I quit.”

Turning around to solemnly leave his office, you ignored the gentle pleas of your name leaving his lips. As you descended the stairs, the team’s heads perked up in curiosity, their gazes darting between your melancholic movements while you gathered your things, and the sight of a frantic Hotch rushing down the stairs like a man on a mission.

“Agent Y/L/N, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

Realizing that he was getting nowhere by being authoritative, Hotch let out an exasperated deep exhale through his nose and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking in a far gentler tone.

“Y/N we have to talk about this, you can’t just leave.”

You didn’t bother looking at any of them as you began your walk towards the elevators. You could still hear Hotch following closely behind you, and all of a sudden Derek’s large figure appeared in front of you. He dipped his head slightly to capture your eyes, the confusion on his features melting into pure concern as he glanced over your shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you. He held his right hand out towards you as if he were extending an olive branch and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Whoa, what’s goin’ on Baby Spice? C’mon, talk to me.”

Derek was speaking to you in that gentle manner that he used when he wanted to show a victim that he wasn’t a threat. There was no doubt he could see the sadness and defeat glistening in your eyes, but you didn’t have the energy to rip open the wound any further.

“I’m going home. Please move.”

That was all you could manage to weakly get out as you attempted to step around him. But Derek, being Derek, wasn’t having it. He reached out to gently place his hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll drive you.”

“I can drive myself.”

“Baby-”

“I’m not a child, Derek. I don’t need your help, can you back off?”

Derek’s warm gaze widened considerably, and his neat onyx brows rose up his forehead in complete shock. You had never exploded on him like that, or any of the others for that matter. But right now all you wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

“Let her go.”

Derek glanced over your shoulder to look at JJ in pure confusion, but she gave a slight shake of her head while holding his gaze with a firm look in her ocean blue eyes, giving him a nonverbal cue to sit this one out. After a moment of hesitation, Derek removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step to the left to unblock your path.

The entire team was silent while watching you disappear behind the elevator doors.

»»———　　———««

A subtle but firm series of knocks at your door roused you from your sleep. Squinting at the clock on your bedside table, the lime green numbers read ten twenty-three pm. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. As soon as you had walked through the door of your apartment hours ago, you kicked off your shoes and crawled in bed, your mind spiraling about what you had just done and what it meant for the future.

When the knocks grew more impatient, you threw your comforter off with an irritated huff and got out of bed, exiting your bedroom to make your way to the living room to figure out who the hell was knocking on your door this late. However when you swung the front door open, your unexpected visitor was the last person you expected it to be.

Aaron Hotchner.

The darkness under his eyes was more prominent than usual, and his neatly cropped hair looked messy, as if he had been stressfully running his fingers through it. The permanent scowl he normally wore was missing from his lips, and there was a faint flicker of concern highlighted in his eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his merlot colored tie hung loosely around his neck.

He looked exhausted.

Instead of speaking, you arched one of your dark brows, silently asking for the reason for his impromptu visit. As he shifted awkwardly to his other foot and cleared his throat, you realized you had never seen him look so unsure of himself.

“May I come in?”

Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, but a bigger part of you was curious to know why your former boss had shown up at your door unannounced at ten thirty at night. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you stepped aside to allow Hotch to pass by you. The second the door shut with a soft click and you turned around to face him, there was already a blanket of irritation tugging his features down. He didn’t even give you a chance to question his presence before speaking.

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

A dry laugh instantly escaped your lips, and a soft furrow settled between your brows while you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Wow, you’re really good at this whole apology thing, huh?”

“I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to be honest with you, and the honest truth is you’re a huge pain in my ass. You’re stubborn, emotionally reactive, not to mention combative-”

“Then why the hell did you hire me-”

“I’m not finished.”

Hotch was speaking in that firm authoritative voice he used whenever he wanted to make it crystal clear he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or push back. Despite your burning desire to lash out again, you bit your tongue and settled for glaring at him instead.

“You are constantly acting like you have something to prove-”

“Because you make me feel like I have to, Aaron. You, and the rest of the team, make me feel like I have to prove my worth every fucking day. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Or how much that makes me doubt myself?”

“Do you ever stop talking long enough to listen to someone else speak?”

Tension hung in the small space of your living room like a heavy and dense fog. Hotch observed you silently for a moment as your frustrations lingered in the air while you refused to meet his eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face, and he seemed to wait until he could tell your emotions had leveled out slightly before speaking again.

“I admired your compassion.”

Perplexity twisted up your features as you stared across your living room at Hotch.

“What?”

“You asked why I hired you. That’s why.”

He made it sound like it was the most simple statement in the world, but it only added another layer to the cryptic labyrinth you were trying to navigate.

“I don’t understand-”

“When I reviewed your case work with you in your interview, I was impressed by your attention to detail. But I was even more impressed that when I asked you questions about the victims you had worked with, you gave me personal details about them, not just black and white facts that were in their file. You remembered things about them. You humanized them instead of speaking about them like a statistic.”

All you could do was blink at him in surprise. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. Sensing that a calmness had settled over you, Hotch took a cautious step forward and continued.

“You know just as much about the victims of notorious serial killers as you do about the serial killers themselves. Every solution you have to a problem is led with people in mind, trying to minimize casualties. You speak about victims like people, not numbers or objects. You put everyone’s feelings, and safety, before your own, and that is both the best thing about you and the worst.”

The sincerity in Hotch’s voice caught you off guard, and for a moment you weren’t sure what to say. He spoke to you in the soft voice you had once overheard him speaking to Jack in on the phone, and that caused a fluttering feeling inside your stomach. But it also added to your confusion. If he thought so highly of you, then why did he treat you the way he did?

“Why are you so different with me?”

Hotch let out a deep exhale through his nose, dragging his palm down his face slowly before loosely gesturing to you with his hand.

“Because it’s my job to protect you.”

“No it isn’t.”

It was Hotch’s turn to stare at you in puzzlement, his thick brows knit together in the center of his forehead. Running a hand through your hair in slight irritation, you shook your head slowly.

“I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I applied for this job. I knew it was dangerous-”

“My job as the unit chief is to keep my team safe-”

“No, Aaron. It’s to lead us. We all knew the risks when we joined. There is only so much you can control, you of all people should know that. I know you try to look out for us, but you don’t treat the rest of the team like you treat me. And I get it, okay? I am the youngest on the team, but I’m not a child-”

“I don’t think you’re a child.”

Hotch looked even more perplexed by your words, his head tilted to the side slightly while looking over at you.

“Y/N, your age has nothing to do with the way I treat you-”

“Then what is it?”

That uncertainty was once again shining in his eyes. It looked like Hotch was struggling internally with which version of his truth he wanted to give you. The revelation about your age not being a factor in his treatment filled you with a sense of relief, but also left you with more questions than answers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hotch’s face softened considerably as he took a few steps closer towards you.

“I…I care about all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”

The intensity of his eye contact caused a slight shiver to nip at your spine, and it seemed like there was a hidden meaning to his sentence; something deeper.

“You…care about me?”

The tiniest of smirks tugged at the edge of Hotch’s lips, and his eyes had lightened in color with pure amusement.

“You know, for one of my most brilliant profilers, you’re pretty bad at this. Should I be concerned?”

Warmth bloomed in your cheeks hearing the faint tease lingering at the edge of his question. Hotch had never been this laid back and playful with you before. It almost sounded like he was…flirting?

Your eyes widened slightly while staring up at him, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.

“Was that…a joke? Did you just make a joke? Are you feeling alright? Should I call a doctor?”

Deciding to test the waters, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against his forehead before moving it downwards to place against his cheek, as if you were checking his temperature. All of a sudden, a huge tooth bearing grin stretched across his lips, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was smiling.

Aaron Hotchner was smiling.

He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, his grin fading to a miniscule smirk while his gaze became a little more intense.

“Actually, smartass, I’m having a bit of a rough night. One of my best profilers quit on me earlier. Although in her defense, I was kind of being a dick.”

“Kind of?”

“Don’t push it. I’m already doing something I normally don’t.”

“Which is?”

“Begging for forgiveness.”

Hotch hadn’t let go of your wrist, and either your mind was playing tricks on you, or he had somehow gotten closer. There was barely a centimeter separating your chests. Him telling you not to push it only made you want to do it that much more, and since you had already technically quit, you decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I don’t hear any begging.”

The mirth in Hotch’s eyes darkened into something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment you were nervous that you had crossed a line. It felt like he was staring directly into your soul, searching for some answer that would determine his next move.

“You are by far the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”

Woman.

Hotch thought of you as a woman, and that caused a bright grin to stretch across your lips.

“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either, but I still like you.”

Hotch’s grasp on your wrist tightened slightly at the end of your sentence, and a look of surprise flashed across his face before his eyes returned to that darkened look you couldn’t decipher.

“Is that so?”

His voice was low, but firm, and the sultriness of it nestled comfortably between your inner thighs. All you could do was subtly nod while staring up at him, watching as he leaned in meticulously and painfully slow.

“If I’m reading this wrong-”

“If you’re reading this wrong, you’re a terrible profiler.”

You weren’t one to wait for action, so before he could respond, you reached up to grab onto the back of Hotch’s neck and pulled him down to press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. At first he tensed up, but then you felt his body physically relax, and a soft hum sounded in your throat when he snaked his arm around your waist. Reluctantly pulling away, he gently brushed his nose against yours and whispered.

“So, I’ll see you in the office Monday?”

“Mm, no.”

Hotch pulled back so he could stare down at you in pure perplexity, and you grinned at his facial expression.

“No?”

“I’m suspended, remember? Three weeks, I think it was?”

Hotch’s lips formed into a thin line as he stared down at you, the amusement previously lingering in his eyes completely gone. You couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shoving him away from you with your palms against his chest.

“Hey, you decided my sentence.”

“You were being a brat-”

“And now this brat has a three week vacation. I’ve been meaning to take a trip anyway-”

“Actually, I haven’t filed any paperwork, so you’re not officially suspended, and you’re still a current employee. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent Y/L/N.”

The demanding tone of his voice made you bite down on your bottom lip, and you leaned back against your kitchen island while arching one of your brows in challenge and crossing your arms across your chest with a playful smirk on your lips.

“You don’t wanna see me before that, sir?”

The way you used his title clearly had an affect on him, and you suddenly realized that the emotion eclipsing his eyes was pure lust. He slowly reached his hand up to tug at the loose knot on his tie until it came undone around his neck completely, and he slowly approached you with a wolfish grin.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x f!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner request #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds request

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forzalando · 3 months

Text

what if?

unrequited love, best friend!lando blurb request from @foreveralbon! liyah gave me the choice of which side the unrequited love came from and unfortunately, i chose to break lando’s heart. please forgive me. i tried to find a pic where he looked a little sad but i don't want him sad so i strayed completely from the vibe of this blurb. also yes, if anyone was wondering, i named the male oc aaron because of aaron hotchner. can't tell if i love or hate this so go easy on me lol pairing: fem!reader x best friend!lando (platonic), fem!reader x oc male word count: 2.1k summary: it’s finally time for your friends to meet someone special. you’re in love with him, and lando has to come to terms with that. tw: unrequited love, heartbroken lando

Your phone buzzed from across the room, a familiar ringtone echoing through the air letting you know that Lando was finally returning your call.

“I sincerely hope you haven’t been avoiding me because you’re planning on ditching my dinner party tonight,” you scolded as soon as you picked up the phone.

“I would never,” Lando gasped. “I was on the sim and had my phone on silent – do you need me to bring anything? How many people will be there?”'

“Oh, not too many at all, I’ve got everything I need. I asked Max, Pietra, Carlos, Rebecca, Charles, and Alex. Oh, and Maxie is coming and bringing someone, can you believe it? I’m so glad he’s finally moving on from Kelly. Oscar and Lily can’t make it – he’s got a family thing, but he promised a double lunch ‘date’ when they’re back in Monaco next week.”

“Geez, why are all of our friends in loving relationships or dating except us, huh? Look at us, the old spinsters!”

You didn’t miss the sadness in his voice even though he tried to mask it with a joke, which made your next admission even harder than you thought it would be.

“Actually, I have someone I want you to meet,” you said quietly. “His name is Aaron and he’ll be here tonight.”

“Really?” Lando coughed, hoping to mask the sound of himself choking on air. “It must be pretty serious for you if he’s meeting all of us – how, um, how long? Have you been seeing him?”

You knew he’d ask and you didn’t want to answer, afraid that he would be upset you’ve kept this from him for so long. You’ve always shared everything with him for the past five years, but for a few subjectively good reasons, you’d kept this a secret until now.

“Please don’t be mad,” you mumbled. “I’ve been seeing him for about seven months but I wasn’t hiding it on purpose or anything, I swear, I just didn’t want to ask you to prioritize meeting my boyfriend during the season. It was too soon to introduce you over summer break, now was just the best time.”

You heard Lando exhale on the other end of the line – whether it was a sigh of annoyance, relief, or anger, you couldn’t tell.

“I get it, don’t worry,” he forced out. “I know I’m never around. I’m excited to meet him, I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

Before you could say anything else, Lando ended the call.

Lando hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire evening – introductions had gone perfectly, all of your friends seemed to love Aaron, conversation was flowing smoothly, but it was painfully obvious, at least to you, that something was up with Lando.

You’d barely gotten through dessert when the onslaught of relationship questions started coming your way – mainly from Charles, if you can believe it. Aaron had started on cleaning up the kitchen and Charles didn’t hesitate to bombard you as soon as Aaron had left the room.

“So, how did you guys meet? How did he ask you out? Tell me everything.”

“Charles!” Alex scolded. “Don’t interrogate her, she’ll tell us if she’s ready!”

You smiled in thanks at Alex, although you knew she was just as eager to hear you tell the tale.

“Actually, I have Lando to thank,” you smiled at Lando, turning your attention towards him for a brief moment. “The day we met, I was supposed to be having lunch with him but he got caught up in a meeting and was running way late. Aaron saw me sitting alone and thought I’d been stood up, introduced himself, and then gave me this cheesy line about how someone was missing out on a date with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Rebecca sighed and fixed her gaze on Carlos – “why aren’t you that romantic?”

“I’m perfectly romantic,” Carlos countered. “Remember when I – ”

Pietra interrupted and shushed him abruptly, “Y/N isn’t done talking, you can defend yourself later.”

“Anyway,” you laughed, “I told him that I was waiting for my best friend and he offered to buy me a drink while I waited, but Lando had texted about five minutes before that he was on his way. So, I turned him down, but he left a note with the hostess and asked her to give it to me when I was on my way out. It was just the next day’s date, a time, and the name of a wine bar nearby signed with his name. I showed up and the rest is history, he charmed me.”

“I didn’t know it was Lando you were waiting on,” Aaron chimed in, walking into the dining room. He stopped next to Lando’s chair, holding his hand out for a handshake. “As a lifelong McLaren fan, I never thought I’d be thanking Lando Norris for arriving late, but thank you. You changed my life that day.”

Lando slowly shook his hand and with gritted teeth responded, “Yeah, man, no problem. Glad I could help, seriously.”

From the looks on everyone’s faces, it was now clear to you that you weren’t the only one who noticed something was wrong with Lando.

He’d barely said a word all evening, and from the tone of his voice, it definitely was a problem and he was not glad he could help.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, I’m going to get some air,” you announced, rising quickly from your chair. “Lando, come with me? Aaron, I’ll finish up in the kitchen later, why don’t the rest of you get comfortable in the living room?”

Begrudgingly, Lando followed you out to your patio. It was surprisingly chilly for mid-December and the sudden gust of wind that pulled a shiver from you wasn’t helping at all. You had barely stopped shivering when you felt Lando’s jacket drape across you, his hands smoothing the shoulders down before he took his place next to you against the balcony.

“There he is,” you crooned. “My kind and considerate best friend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You turned your head to face him rather than look at the view, your eyebrows furrowing together and a sick feeling creeping into your stomach.

“Do you not like Aaron?” You asked quietly, the frown on your face deepening. “Everyone else seems to love him, did he say something to you? You were a little…off just now, are you mad he’s a McLaren fan? I promise you, he is not dating me to get to you or any other crazy idea you may have concocted. He didn’t even know we were friends for the first three months.”

Lando didn’t answer you, his eyes still trained on the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. He was picking at his fingernails – something he only did when he was anxious or upset.

“Please say something,” you pleaded. “I, gosh I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I'm in love with him, Lando. If you have reservations or concerns, please be honest with me. Your opinion means a lot to me, more than I thought it would.”

The silence was deafening – still no response for what felt like ages, the sick feeling in your stomach growing more prominent with every passing second.

“You love him?” Lando finally spoke, looking down, out, away – anywhere but at your face.

“Yes, I do. Like, a scary amount. I’m terrified, actually, but in the best way. I never thought I’d find love like this, Lan.”

“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it?” Lando laughed, a humorless laugh, and backed away from the railing to sit on one of your deck chairs – his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Before you could voice your confusion, he looked up at you, a sadness in his eyes you’d never seen before.

“He’s annoyingly wonderful and perfect for you, Y/N,” he began. “As soon as I walked in tonight, I knew. He barely let you lift a finger, remembered facts about everyone in there and was sincerely happy to get to know everyone. He gravitates towards you, smiles whenever you speak, always wants to be near you, and holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him. He treats you how I would treat you if I were lucky enough to be in his shoes. And the way he looks at you? I know that look,” he paused, closing his eyes tightly. “It’s the way I look at you.”

The sick feeling in your stomach turned to dread and you felt your heart squeezing in your chest, a mix of a gasp and a sob climbing out of your throat.

“Lando, I – ”

“It’s ok,” he smiled, staring directly at you with watery eyes. “I love you. I know it’s one-sided, and that’s ok. I promise you, it’s okay. I just needed you to know, and not because I thought it would change your feelings for him or to confuse you, you just deserve to know. I’ve kept it from you for far too long and I wish this wasn't how or why I finally told you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, your hand shaking as you reached for Lando’s, gripping it so tight you thought you might leave a bruise.

“I’m sorry, Lando,” you cried. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I – I never would have made you come or said those things if I had known.”

Guilt crawled its way into the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Some of your friends and family members had alluded to his feelings for you over the years, but you always ignored them, insisting that you were just friends, best friends, but you secretly sometimes felt that there may be some truth in it. You wished more than anything in that moment that you had taken that feeling more seriously.

“I didn’t want you to know, it’s my fault you didn’t know,” Lando insisted. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“If you need some time, some distance, I can respect that,” you offered, though the thought of Lando agreeing to that was unbearably painful.

“No, no, I’ll be ok. It’ll take some time for me to move on but I’d rather deal with the pain of being close to you while I get over you than not have you in my life for however long it takes. All that matters to me is that you’re happy, and if Aaron makes you happy, I can live with that.”

Selfishly, you sighed in relief, squeezing the hand you were holding before pulling away from him. Your friendship would feel different for a while, but you could manage different; you could manage anything as long as Lando remained a fixture in your life.

“I think I’m going to go,” he whispered, rising from the chair and sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ve made things awkward enough for one evening, don’t you think?”

You started to assure him he did no such thing, but when you saw the smirk on his face you knew he’d said it to try to relieve the heaviness that had settled over you. You handed him back his jacket, smoothing the shoulders down once he’d put it on just as he did for you earlier. Small, tentative smiles graced both of your faces before you pulled him into a gentle hug, hesitating just enough to allow him to back away if it was too much for him.

He squeezed you once tightly and then let go – the quickness of it expected, but the fact he accepted it at all gave you hope that everything would be ok.

You watched him as he reached for the door handle to go inside, but he paused and turned around just before he grabbed hold.

“Would it have made a difference? If I had told you before you met him?”

You weren’t sure which answer would hurt him more, but you were always honest with him and that wasn’t going to change now.

“No, Lando, it wouldn't have. I do love you, I always have and always will, but I'm not in love with you. I've never thought of you in that way, I'm sorry.”

He nodded once, accepting your answer, and then he was gone. You were being truthful, and Lando knew without a doubt that you were, but he also knew in his heart and soul that you would always and forever be his biggest “what if?”.

-----------

taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @anaviieiraaa @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun

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#lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 #forzalando 3k

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natashasfilms · 1 year

Text

You’re Losing Me

Summary: Dating a colleague has always been an exhilarating experience. However, as you reach a point where you’re ready to take the relationship further after spending years together, doubts start to creep in. You begin questioning whether you’re the only one putting effort into saving something that seems to be slowly fading away.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings: taylor swift’s song “you’re losing me”, angst, fluff, coworker relationship, language, drowning, stabs, injuries, usual criminal minds stuff, use of y/n, lovers to exes to lovers again, not really unrequited love, insecurity, making out, happy ending

Word Count: 7,938 (the longest one shot i’ve written so far…)

Note: It’s been so so so long since I’ve posted anything on here, so enjoy a little Aaron Hotchner one shot! I’m think of writing an Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds series, similar to my Steve Harrington/Stranger Things series, but it may take me a while to finish writing the entire thing. Maybe I’ll write a few chapters and then upload those and write along as I go but I don’t want to do that in case I lose motivation throughout the midst of it. We’ll see what happens! It’s just that I’m super busy but I have such great ideas for this series!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

As the sunlight slowly filtered through the windows, you began to awake from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you gazed at the ceiling and felt the comforting embrace of a pair of arms around your waist. Turning your head, you smiled at the man sleeping beside you and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. After disentangling yourself from his arms, you got out of bed.

Quickly, you took a shower, brushed your teeth, and dressed for the day. Upon leaving the bathroom, you found your boyfriend, Aaron, sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, Aaron.” You greeted him.

He looked up with a grin, standing up to meet you. “Morning.” He responded, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom himself.

You then entered Jack’s room to wake him up and get him ready for school. Seeing him still asleep, you approached with a gentle touch, waking him with a soft rub on his head. “Jack, sweetie, it’s time to wake up.”

Jack groaned, still half-asleep. “Five more minutes.”

You chuckled, playfully poking his cheek. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be late for school.” Eventually, Jack sat up in bed, and you left his room with a cheeky smile.

Preparing breakfast for your two boys, you heard footsteps down the hall. Setting the plates on the table, you watched as Jack settled into his seat. “Thank you, Y/N! This looks good!”

Nodding, you gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before you and Aaron sat down at the table. He reached out to hold your hand as a gesture of thanks, which made your heart flutter with affection.

After bidding Jack farewell and dropping him off at school, you and Aaron began your drive to work. Upon arriving, you entered the office first, as your relationship with Aaron was not public knowledge except to Strauss. You both agreed to keep it quiet to avoid potential workplace issues, though you wouldn’t mind being open about it if the opportunity arose. You weren’t entirely sure how Aaron felt about that.

Sitting at your desk, you watched Aaron make his way upstairs to his office, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention. Your colleagues, Emily, Derek, Elle, Spencer, and JJ, were already at their desks, engaged in friendly chatter while working on their paperwork. You joined in, laughing at Emily and Derek’s playful banter.

At times, you felt the urge to spend more time with Aaron in his office, but you respected his decision to keep your relationship private. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the only one who truly cared about the relationship. Four years together, and you were eagerly awaiting for him to pop the question. But that seemed to be indefinitely postponed. It sometimes felt like you were the only one putting effort into the relationship.

Fortunately, the entire day turned out to be pleasantly light. With no new cases, the office was buzzing with paperwork and fueled by several cups of coffee. Every so often, Penelope would come over to chat with all of you, as she often felt lonely in her own office. Her presence brought joy, and you always welcomed her with a warm smile, her infectious happiness lifting your spirits.

As the day drew to a close, the office was nearly empty, with only you, Aaron, and Elle remaining on the current floor. Elle grabbed her bag, ready to head out.

“See you tomorrow, Elle.” You called out, waving.

Elle smiled back at you. “You’re leaving right now, right?”

You nodded, turning to your desk to organize your files. “Yep, just need to gather these files and hand them over to Hotch.”

Her eyes shifted to the man in question, who was still seated at his desk in his office. “Does he ever sleep?” Elle asked, furrowing her brows.

Chuckling, you stood up. “I’d like to say yes, but he’s practically a robot.”

Elle hummed, and her gaze returned to you. “Do you want me to wait for you?” She offered.

You widened your eyes slightly, quickly clearing your throat. “Oh, no, you go ahead. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“It’s not a problem, honestly.” Elle reassured you, but you waved your hand dismissively.

“No, really. You can go on ahead. I have to ask Hotch a few questions about the paperwork, anyway.”

You noticed a subtle shift in Elle’s eyes, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. “Right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” She said, bidding you goodbye before making her way to the glass doors and stepping into the elevator.

Feeling a sense of relief, you let out a sigh, almost convinced that Elle had caught on to your and Aaron’s relationship. Shaking your head to dismiss such thoughts, you collected all the files and made your way up to his office, lightly knocking on the door. Aaron’s voice invited you in, prompting you to enter.

As he looked up from his work, his stern expression softened into one of happiness at the sight of you. You couldn’t help but grin, placing the files on his desk. “It’s late, we should get going.”

Furrowing his brows, Aaron checked the time, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t even realize how late it got.” He admitted, quickly gathering the files and organizing everything for the next day.

Both of you exited the building and walked to your car. Settling inside, you watched Aaron start the engine and drive off, your mind preoccupied with thoughts. You were contemplating whether to broach the topic of taking your relationship to the next level or even considering making it public. Although you should have felt at ease discussing it with Aaron, anxiety gripped your heart, causing it to beat rapidly.

Despite knowing Aaron to be the most kind-hearted man you’ve known for years, you couldn’t help but fear his response. You didn’t want this conversation to become a make-or-break moment for your relationship, yet you also couldn’t bear to keep hiding in the shadows any longer.

Arriving at your shared apartment, you both entered, setting your bags down by the door and turning on the lights. With Jack spending the night at Jessica’s, you and Aaron found yourselves alone, creating an opportunity for you to bring up a potentially important conversation.

Deciding to allow yourselves a moment to freshen up and have dinner before broaching the important topic, you wanted to ensure neither of you went to bed hungry in case the conversation didn't go smoothly.

After showering, having dinner, and relaxing, you finally felt ready to initiate the conversation. Throughout the evening, you sensed Aaron’s eyes on you, and it was time for him to ask what was bothering you.

“You’ve been tense all night.” Aaron observed, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the couch. “Is something wrong?”

Your mind raced through different approaches to the problem, but you still didn’t feel fully prepared as you began to respond to his question. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

He arched an eyebrow, pulling you closer by wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Care to share?”

With a tight-lipped smile, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. “Have you ever considered...making our relationship public?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Aaron’s arms dropped from your shoulder. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, dreading his response.

“Aaron?” You anxiously waited for his answer, but he fell silent, trying to find the right words to respond to you. “Can you please say something?”

Aaron’s face tightened with hesitation as he tried to find the right words to respond to your question. He glanced away, unable to meet your eyes directly, and sighed heavily. “I...I haven’t really thought about going public.” He finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Our relationship has always been private, and it’s been working for us. I’m afraid of how things might change if we make it public.”

Your heart sank, sensing the reluctance in his response. “But Aaron, we’ve been together for so long, and I’m tired of just hiding our relationship. I want to be with you openly, without constantly worrying about keeping it a secret.” You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I know that.” Aaron said, his voice softening. “But we both know how the nature of our work is. If our relationship becomes public, it could jeopardize everything we’ve built here. I can’t risk that, especially for Jack’s sake.”

Frustration and sadness engulfed you, and you felt a surge of emotions welling up inside. “So, you’re choosing your job and keeping up appearances over us? Over me?” You exclaimed, your voice quivering with hurt.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just not that simple.” Aaron replied, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away.

“Then enlighten me, Aaron. What do you mean? Because maybe it’s not simple for you, but it is for me.” You said firmly, your heart breaking. “I can’t keep living like this. I deserve better than this, Aaron.”

He looked torn, his eyes reflecting his own pain. “I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But you’re not willing to fight for us.” You responded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Tell me, Aaron. Did you even plan on marrying me?”

His silence spoke louder than words, and it was all you needed to get your answer. The truth hung heavily in the air, and your heart shattered in less than two minutes, your fears coming true. The pain of realization washed over you, leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable.

You desperately wanted things to go back to how they were, to find comfort in the familiarity of your relationship. But deep down, you knew that settling for someone who didn’t put effort into the relationship wasn’t right for you. You deserved someone who cherished and valued you, someone who saw a future with you and was willing to fight for it.

“Looks like you’ve already lost me.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion. You hastily wiped away your tears, determined not to break down completely. Standing up from your spot on the couch, you avoided Aaron’s gaze as you walked away, trying to maintain some composure. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”

The realization that the love of your life might not have felt the same way about you as you thought shattered your heart into pieces. You couldn’t bear to stay in a relationship that made you feel worthless.

What made it even more painful was that Aaron had always been the kindest man you had ever known. He had made you feel loved, supported, and cared for, especially during your lowest moments. However, now, you couldn’t help but question everything.

“Dad?” Jack spoke, catching his father’s attention as he helped put his backpack on. “When is Y/N coming back?”

It had been a week since you and Aaron broke up, and the impact of the decision weighed heavily on both of you. In the aftermath, you moved out of Aaron’s apartment, leaving behind the memories of a once loving relationship. Aaron struggled with the reality that you weren’t living with him anymore. He had tried to apologize and convince you to reconsider, but you remained firm in your decision. You believed that taking some time and space apart was essential for both of you to figure out what you truly wanted.

“I’m not sure, buddy.” Aaron replied to Jack with a gentle smile, masking the turmoil within his heart. “Y/N needed some time to think about things, and we both agreed it was best to take some space for now.”

Jack frowned, sensing that something significant had changed. He missed having you around, and it was hard for him to understand the complexities of adult relationships. But he trusted his father and hoped that things would work out for the best.

Despite your desire for space, maintaining it was extremely challenging when you had to work together. Nevertheless, you were grateful that the rest of the team didn’t seem to notice any change in your demeanor towards each other. You made a concerted effort to act as you always did while on the job, which wasn’t too difficult, considering you had always portrayed your relationship as strictly professional, pretending to know each other only as coworkers.

Aaron despised himself for not being open and honest with you that night, for jeopardizing the relationship you had built over the years. He loved you deeply, and the thought of marrying you had crossed his mind countless times. However, fear had gripped his heart. The pain of losing Haley had left him hesitant about committing to another relationship, and he believed he could never truly move on. Yet, you had always supported him throughout that challenging time. Your constant presence by his side, understanding, and care had gradually allowed him to let go of his fears. Before he knew it, he had become deeply attached to you, and his love for you had grown immeasurably.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you that he didn’t want anyone to know about your relationship. Instead, Aaron feared that making it public might endanger you, given the high-stakes nature of their work and the potential risks involved. He wanted to protect you from any repercussions that might arise if their personal relationship were exposed in the often dangerous and unpredictable world they worked in. Although it pained him to keep your love hidden, he believed it was a necessary precaution to keep you safe. After Haley, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

Now, he felt utterly foolish. Regret washed over him as he realized he should have communicated with you more openly, explaining why he felt the way he did instead of leaving you to question his love. The pain of knowing that you thought he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, that you believed he was ashamed of you, weighed heavily on his heart.

He wished he could turn back time and find the courage to share his fears and concerns with you, to let you know just how much he loves and values you. The thought of causing you any hurt had never been his intention, but he had failed in expressing himself clearly.

The team sat aboard the private jet, en route to your destination for a new case that demanded your immediate attention. Three homicides, spread across different cities, all linked by a hauntingly similar MO. The victims shared connections that hinted at a calculated pattern, but local law enforcement had hit a dead end, prompting the call for FBI assistance.

Aaron and you purposefully chose seats away from each other, not wanting to add any awkwardness to the already tense situation. As the team delved further into the case, everyone meticulously examined the evidence within the case files.

You scanned through the disturbing details, striving not to let any grimace betray your inner emotions. Over the years, you had grown accustomed to such gruesome cases that it took an emotional toll on even the most seasoned profilers. Yet, you knew that suppressing your emotions was essential to focus on the task at hand.

“Morgan, Prentiss, and Elle, I want you three to check the latest victim’s crime scene and look for anything new. Reid, JJ, and L/N, I need you to head to the coroner’s office and examine the autopsy reports.” Aaron said, making brief eye contact with you for a second before turning his attention back to the team. “Rossi and I will head to the precinct to talk to the local PD and settle in.”

As soon as the jet landed, you, JJ, and Spencer swiftly made your way to one of the BAU SUVs and drove to the coroner’s office to examine the bodies. You were driving the car, while JJ was in the passenger seat, and Spencer was sitting in the back. You conversed with the other two throughout the entire drive, Spencer spitting his genius facts every now and then.

Once you made it inside, the three of you were greeted by the coroner, who led you to the room where the bodies were laid out. Carefully examining the wounds on the victims, you couldn’t help but notice something intriguing. “They’ve all been stabbed exactly twenty times, each stab in a different part of the body.” You stated, glancing at JJ and Spencer for their input. “This was rage.”

Spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing with concentration. “The repetitive nature of the stab wounds indicates an intense emotional release, possibly stemming from deep-seated anger or frustration.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her empathy guiding her understanding of the crime scene. “Maybe the unsub had a personal vendetta against the victims, and he was trying to send a message with the way he’s stabbed them.”

Spencer couldn’t help but share one of his characteristic and oddly fascinating facts. “Did you know that throughout history, the number twenty has often been associated with completeness and cycles? It’s interesting that the unsub chose this specific number.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, contemplating the possibility. “Or maybe the number twenty was important to him? It could hold some significance to the unsub, and he chose it to exert control or leave a twisted signature on the victims.”

JJ nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the shared curiosity. “It’s definitely not uncommon for unsubs to attach meaning to their actions or rituals. The number twenty might be a representation of something personal or symbolic to him.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, adding on to you and JJ. “Numerology has been linked to criminal behavior in certain cases. The choice of numbers might reflect the unsub’s belief in its power or its alignment with his twisted motives.”

As you carefully examined the stab wounds on the victims’ lifeless bodies, a particular detail caught your attention. There was an absence of significant bleeding around the wound sites. The wounds appeared uniform in depth and angle, lacking the telltale signs of hemorrhage typically associated with antemortem stabbings.

You turned to the coroner with a furrowed brow. “These stab wounds...they seem different from typical antemortem injuries. Is there any indication that the victims might have been submerged in water before the stabbing?”

The coroner paused, considering your observation. “Well, we did find traces of water in the airways and lungs of all the victims during the autopsies.” The coroner replied. “It’s possible they were drowned before the stabbings occurred.”

“He’s drowning them and then stabbing them?” JJ questioned, her arms crossed against her chest. “What about signs of sexual assault?”

The coroner shook her head. “There were no signs of sexual assault in the report.”

Spencer chimed in, his gaze intense. “It’s possible that this unsub’s violent ritual provides him with a sense of release. The act of drowning the victims may serve as a form of control or domination, followed by the symbolic significance of twenty stabs, and perhaps linked to a personal obsession or fixation.”

You added to Spencer’s insight. “The number twenty might hold significant meaning to him, reinforcing the notion that these killings are deeply personal and methodically planned.”

JJ looked troubled, contemplating the unsettling pattern before you. “If he’s targeting the victims like this, he might have a connection to them. Something in their past could be triggering this cycle of violence.”

You nodded your head, your gaze remaining fixated on the lifeless forms. “Let’s head back and meet with the others.”

The three of you met up with the rest of the team at the precinct, where you all gathered around the crime board, sharing your findings and insights from the investigations. As each detail was added to the board, the case started to take shape, revealing disturbing connections and patterns.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but sense Aaron’s occasional glances in your direction. Part of you hoped he would approach you and start a conversation, maybe even attempt to mend what was broken between you both. Yet, another part of you felt a tinge of relief that he hadn’t approached you, as facing him would only reopen the wounds that were still raw.

It had only been a week since the painful breakup, and you found yourself torn between wanting to be understood and yearning for his apologies, and the need to protect yourself from further heartache. The longing for him to realize his mistakes, coupled with the desire to put the pieces of your life back together, weighed heavily on your emotions.

You also couldn’t help but miss Jack dearly. Saying goodbye to him before you left had been one of the hardest moments, knowing that he couldn’t fully comprehend the reasons behind your departure. The memories of the mornings you spent with him, preparing breakfast and engaging in playful moments, tugged at your heartstrings. You had cherished those moments, but you knew that staying in an emotionally draining situation wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

At the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on the entire team, the toll of the stressful investigation demanding a much-needed rest. However, they were confident in the amount of evidence gathered, giving them a solid foundation to construct a profile when they regrouped.

Reaching the hotel, the team bid each other farewell, knowing they’d reconvene in the morning to continue the investigation. You let out a weary sigh as you entered your room, eager to collapse onto your bed. Shutting the door behind you, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace. Without delay, you made your way to the bathroom, seeking to refresh yourself after the intense day.

Emerging from the shower, you felt more relaxed. After brushing your teeth, you slipped into comfortable sleepwear, embracing the coziness that enveloped you.

As you were about to settle into your bed, there was a knock on your door. Confusion washed over you, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. Walking cautiously to the door, you peered through the peephole and let out a soft sigh upon recognizing Aaron’s familiar face.

You opened the door, raising an eyebrow, giving him the signal to speak. His nervous demeanor was uncharacteristic of the stoic Aaron Hotchner, who rarely showed any signs of anxiety.

“Can I come in?” He asked, and a part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his request, but you held back your emotions. Suppressing a disgruntled noise, you opened the door wider, allowing him to enter your room.

Aaron wasted no time, quickly stepping inside as if he feared you might change your mind and shut the door on him. His uneasiness was palpable, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had driven him to seek you out in this vulnerable state.

With the door closed, you faced him, waiting for an explanation as to why he had come to your room at this late hour. “How are you?” He questioned, and you almost scoffed.

“What do you need?” You asked instead, completely ignoring his question.

His heart twinged with pain when he heard your voice, sensing the coldness in your tone, a reflection of the hurt he had caused. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, determined to make things right. “I wanted to apologize for everything. I hated how things ended between us, and if I could turn back time, I would do so in a heartbeat just so I wouldn’t be the one who broke your heart.”

Your arms were crossed protectively over your chest, and he could see the struggle behind your eyes as you fought back tears. The mere week of separation had been agonizing, making him yearn for your presence more than ever. He longed to hold you in his arms again, to kiss you like they had for the past four years. But he understood that he couldn’t expect you to forgive him so easily.

“Jack misses you.” He continued, his voice laced with regret. “He asks for you every day, wondering if you’ll come back. It breaks my heart each time he does.” Your heart ached for the little boy, whom you had grown to cherish as your own. “And I miss you too, more than I can put into words. I’m willing to do anything and everything to fix things.”

Your gaze locked with his, and he saw the emotions swirling within you. “Aaron, I don’t know.” You began, and he felt his heart drop, fearing your answer. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again? You’re only saying this because you realized what you had after you lost me.”

He shook his head, almost reaching for your hands but stopping himself, respecting the space you needed. “No, that’s not true. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. Yes, I was an absolute idiot, but I’m not just saying this because I realized what I had after I lost you. You mean the world to me, and I love you. If you just let me show you that I won’t make the same mistake ever again. I want everyone to know you’re mine, and it was never my intention to hide you away. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.” His voice was filled with sincerity, pleading for another chance to prove his love and commitment to you.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. “Aaron, I think I need some time.” You said, truthfully. “I just need some space to figure out what I truly want. Throughout all these years, I’ve longed for you to prioritize us, but it never happened. Maybe I was too naive to believe it ever would.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, avoiding the pained look on his face. “I love you, too, but I can’t ignore the fact that I wanted you to put me first, instead of this job, and to consider a future together. I wanted to get married, but I don’t think you felt the same.”

He was about to say something, but you held up a finger, needing to continue.

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t marry myself either.” You confessed softly. “I’ve spent so much time trying to please everyone, especially you. It’s been exhausting, trying to be the perfect girlfriend or even a future wife, when it felt like I was the only one making an effort. I sent you countless signals, hoping you’d notice, but it seemed like you didn’t want to acknowledge the cracks in our relationship.”

You let out a deep breath, relieved to have finally expressed your thoughts that had been brewing for months. Opening your eyes, you looked at Aaron, and his broken appearance tugged at your heartstrings. You longed to turn his frown into a smile, to fix everything, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.

“You’re wrong.” He finally spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, listening intently. “Of course I wanted to marry you.” He continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I was just too scared.”

“Scared of what?” You asked softly, urging him to open up.

“Of losing you, though it seems like I already did.” He said, a sad chuckle escaping his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “After Haley, I never thought I would be capable of falling in love again. I had built walls around my heart, convinced it was safer that way. But then you were always there for me and I let myself fall for you, and it scared me.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and continued. “I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger because of this job, just like I did with Haley and Jack. I blamed myself for her death, and I didn’t want history to repeat itself. That’s why I kept our relationship hidden. I was afraid it would expose you to unnecessary risks.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession. “Aaron.” You said, your voice filled with empathy. “You didn’t have to carry all that burden alone. We could have faced it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I know, and I should have trusted us more. But my fear consumed me, and I made a terrible mistake by pushing you away.”

You walked closer and reached out to gently touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “I understand why you did what you did, but it hurt to be kept in the dark. We could have faced those fears together as a team, just like we always do in these cases.”

“I know, and I wish I had the strength to open up to you sooner.” He whispered, leaning into your touch. “I’m so sorry.”

You leaned your forehead against his, savoring the closeness between you. Bringing your free hand to touch his other cheek, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. “This could have gone so differently if you had opened up to me, Aaron.” You whispered, looking into his eyes with sincerity. “But I still think we need some time apart. Just for a little bit.”

He closed his eyes, absorbing your words, and then nodded his head. “I know, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t oppose it.”

“Okay.” You whispered back, feeling a mix of sadness and hope in your heart. He stepped back, giving you a soft smile, before he turned to walk towards the door. “Wait.” You called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around, and without hesitation, you gently cupped his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It was a tender, lingering kiss, full of unspoken emotions. He held onto your hands, cherishing the brief moments of the kiss, until you finally let go. “Goodnight.” You murmured, your voice tinged with both affection and uncertainty.

He looked dazed, as if he were in some sort of dream, processing the intensity of the moment. He tried his best to speak, finally managing a quiet “Goodnight” before he turned and left your room.

The next day, the team gathered at the precinct, ready to delve into the evidence with fresh eyes after sleeping. However, it was a restless night for both you and Aaron. Sleep seemed elusive as you tossed and turned, your mind consumed with thoughts of everything Aaron had said. Meanwhile, Aaron found himself replaying the kiss you shared before he left, and he couldn’t shake the weight of your words and emotions regarding your relationship and his actions.

After a few hours of relentless effort, Penelope’s expertise paid off, and she managed to uncover a name and address for the unsub. Putting on your bulletproof vests, the team raced to the SUVs, determined to catch the dangerous individual before he could harm anyone else.

Arriving at the address, you were met with an empty house. The unsub was nowhere to be seen, so you scanned the surroundings for any possible clues. Aaron spoke up, his voice firm. “We need to find any leads, any hints on where he might keep his victims.”

The team split up, meticulously combing through the scene, searching for any shred of evidence that could provide a much-needed breakthrough. The tension was palpable, knowing that every moment counted in preventing further tragedy.

As you examined the area, some of the photos on the wall caught your eye. The pictures consisted of different landscapes, however, when you looked more closely, the pictures seemed to be connected despite it being in separate frames. You called the team over and examined the photos, sending them over to Penelope to help find the location.

Penelope’s voice came through on the comms, her excitement evident. “Guys, I think I’ve found something. The pictures seem to be at a park near the house! I’m sending you the address now!”

As soon as you got the address, you raced out of the house and back into the waiting SUVs, speeding towards the destination. Upon arriving at the location, you split into groups. You, Elle, and Emily formed a team, eyes fixed on the abandoned warehouse nearby. Silently, you pointed towards the building, an unspoken agreement passing between you. You slowly and quietly walked, guns at the ready as you approached the structure.

You skillfully maneuvered around the back, while Elle and Emily advanced with their guns and flashlight inside, searching the shadows for any traces of the unsub. As you searched the back and began to think it was clear, you suddenly felt a forceful grip clamp over your mouth, muffling any sound you might have made. Before you could react, a sharp impact hit your head, sending you reeling into temporary darkness.

As you gradually regained consciousness, your surroundings came into focus, and panic washed over you at the sight of the unsub standing before you. Fear pulsed through your veins as you realized you were weaponless and vulnerable. His sinister laughter sent shivers down your spine, and you knew you had to act fast.

His sadistic grin filled you with dread as he taunted you, relishing the power he held over you. Every instinct urged you to escape, but he had already restrained you with a cruel grip, leaving you little room to maneuver. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you desperately scanned your surroundings for any possible means of escape.

As terror surged through your veins, you realized you were next to a lake. The sight of its dark waters filled you with dread, as you knew the unsub intended to use it against you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you drew upon every ounce of strength you possessed, mustering a deafening scream in hopes that your team would hear you.

But the unsub was swift as well. Before you could make a move, he forcefully plunged you into the icy water. The coldness was shocking, stealing your breath away as he held you submerged. Panic surged through you as you fought against his unyielding grasp, struggling to resurface for air.

Despite your efforts, he held you down, with no chance of escape. Each time you managed to rise, gasping for breath, he mercilessly forced you back into the depths, determined to drown you just like all the other victims.

As darkness threatened to consume you, your mind raced with thoughts of your team. You wondered if they were close, if they could hear your cries for help, and if they would find you in time. You didn’t even know if they were nearby or if the unsub took you to a different location while you were knocked out. The uncertainty only deepened your desperation, as you clung to the hope that rescue was on its way.

As you struggled to hold on, your strength waned, and you found yourself slipping away, succumbing to the relentless pressure of the unsub’s grip. Helplessly, you surrendered to the suffocating darkness that surrounded you. That’s when a sudden, deafening gunshot pierced the air, tearing through the silence.

In the blink of an eye, the unsub’s hold on you loosened, and you were released from his grasp. He tumbled into the water, gone with a well-aimed bullet through his head. Aaron dropped his gun and leaped into the water without hesitation, desperately reaching for your lifeless form before it could go any deeper.

Emerging from the water’s grasp, Aaron clutched you tightly in his arms as the rest of the team rushed to assist. His heart raced with panic, his mind consumed by the fear of losing you. You were unresponsive, your eyes closed, and the once rhythmic rise and fall of your chest had ceased. Time seemed to stand still as he began chest compressions and performed CPR, his every action fueled by a desperation to revive you.

He had tears streaming down his face and his voice trembled with emotion as he begged you to fight, to come back to him. He refused to accept that this could be the end, that he might lose the person he loved with his entire heart once again. The rest of the team looked on, their hearts heavy with concern, but also filled with hope as they witnessed Aaron’s efforts to bring you back.

Derek kneeled beside Aaron, gripping his shoulders with urgency as he tried to intervene. “Hotch! Stop! Let someone else take over!” He yelled, attempting to divert his attention.

But Aaron was relentless, his focus solely on you. He brushed Derek’s hands aside, determination etched across his face. “I won’t stop until she’s awake.” He declared, resuming his life-saving efforts without a second thought. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he continued to administer CPR.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you coughed and sputtered, water escaping from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to find your breath. Aaron’s arms enveloped you in a tight embrace, holding you close as you fought to regain your composure.

“Oh, thank God.” Emily breathed, her hand pressed against her chest, relief washing over her after the initial fear.

Aaron released his hold on you, and Derek immediately enveloped you in a tight embrace. “Babygirl, you scared all of us.” He murmured, still feeling shaken by the close call. Elle, not one to be left out, quickly shoved Derek away and hugged you with genuine concern.

“We should’ve never let you go out there by yourself.” Elle expressed, feeling guilty that they had split up. “I’m so sorry.”

Emily, kneeling beside you, placed a reassuring hand on your back. “We should’ve gone together.”

You shook your head, offering a small smile to your caring teammates. “Stop blaming yourselves. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen. At least I’m okay now.”

“Yeah, but you were dead for a few minutes.” Emily retorted with a scoff, still grappling with the shock of the situation.

You understood their concern, but you also knew that in their line of work, these moments were unfortunately part of the job. You reassured them. “I’m alright now, thanks to all of you.” And Aaron. You thought. You locked eyes with him, offering a reassuring smile. Though he didn’t return the smile, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes, telling you how grateful he was that you were still alive.

The EMT’s thoroughly checked you over, ensuring there were no other injuries, and concluded that you were fine. You sat at the back of the ambulance, swinging your legs back and forth, absently touching the bandage on your forehead where the unsub had hit you.

As you looked around, you saw the scene filled with law enforcement personnel. The unsub’s lifeless body was being carried away on a gurney, wrapped in a white sheet. A mix of relief and anger washed over you. Relief that he could no longer harm anyone else, and anger that he had taken the easy way out, escaping true justice.

Turning to your right, you noticed Aaron glancing back at you from time to time. Summoning some courage, you raised a hand and waved at him. This time, he smiled. A small yet genuine gesture that warmed your heart. Derek, ever the observant one, caught the interaction and couldn’t help but smirk. Playfully, he nudged Aaron on the shoulder, urging him to talk to you. Aaron, true to his stoic self, gave Derek a brief glare, which only made Derek raise his hands in surrender, laughing as he watched his boss walk away.

Aaron’s voice softened as he spoke, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

You smiled, appreciating his caring nature. “I’m fine, Aaron.” Patting the spot next to you, you invited him to sit, and he obliged. Turning to face him, you brought your legs up to your chest. “Thank you for saving me.”

He shook his head, gazing up at the sky. “Don’t thank me. I’m just grateful that you’re alive.” His eyes met yours, and you could see the tears welling up. “I should’ve been there to protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

You reached out to touch his cheek, trying to console him. “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I made the choice to check the back alone while Elle and Emily went inside. The blame lies solely on the unsub. Please, don’t carry that burden on yourself.” As he attempted to hold your hand, you pulled away slightly, causing his heart to ache. You were aware of your team’s eyes on you and didn’t want to fuel any rumors.

“Sorry, they might see us.” You explained.

He scoffed, refusing to let go of your hands. “I don’t care if they see us. It would be a miracle if they didn’t suspect anything. I was going insane while trying to save your life.”

“Aaron–”

“I want everyone to know about us. I don’t care anymore. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I will not let you go. You mean everything to me, and I’m sorry for everything.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Seeing you out there, not breathing, holding your lifeless body in my arms...I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do if you were gone. I love you, Y/N. And I will love you until the day I die.”

At his heartfelt words, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You pressed your lips firmly against his, cupping his face with your hands. He held onto your hands, responding with passion and intensity. The week had been long and stressful, but with Aaron finally admitting he didn’t care who saw you together, you embraced the moment, cherishing the love you shared with the man you couldn’t imagine living without.

You pulled away slightly, looking deeply into his eyes. “I love you too.”

“Marry me.” Aaron said, his voice filled with sincerity.

The shock registered on your face, mouth agape. “What?” You asked, your heart pounding.

“Okay, this wasn’t the way I planned on proposing to you, but I couldn’t wait anymore.” He chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Will you marry me?”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “I don’t see a ring anywhere.”

He rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “The ring’s hidden in my desk drawer at the office. I was waiting for the right time to propose, but I can’t wait any longer.”

Your eyes softened, and your heart warmed at his sweet gesture. “You bought a ring?”

Aaron nodded, gently kissing your hands. “I told you, I wanted to marry you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, trying to contain your emotions. “Yes, Aaron Hotchner. I will marry you.” You said, a mixture of excitement and love in your voice.

He grinned, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You will?” He whispered.

“Yes, a million times yes.” You replied, your heart soaring at the prospect of spending your life with the man you loved.

With that, Aaron pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and loving kiss. The world around you faded away, and all that mattered was the promise of a future together, as partners in both love and life.

“Did you guys really think we didn’t know you two were together all this time?” Rossi questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as the team sat together on the jet, heading home after a successful case. “We aren’t profilers for nothing.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork spread out on the table. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the lighthearted teasing. Finally feeling content in your life, you leaned back in your seat, feeling the warmth of Aaron’s presence beside you.

“It’s true.” Spencer chimed in with a smile. “We always knew you two were dating, but we didn’t say anything because you thought we didn’t know. It’s pretty funny, considering all the looks you give each other when–”

“Reid.” Aaron interrupted, cutting off the young genius before he could go further. The team stifled a laugh as Spencer mumbled out a quick “Sorry,” a sheepish smile on his face, and returned to his book.

JJ grinned mischievously. “Oh, come on, Hotch. We’ve seen the way you look at Y/N, and the way Y/N looks back.”

Elle nodded, adding her own insight. “Yeah, it was kind of adorable watching you two try to keep it a secret.”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, feeling a mix of amusement and affection. “Well, I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.” You admitted, a smile tugging at your lips.

His lips threatened to curl up into a smile, and you noticed it, playfully bumping your shoulders against his. He tried to maintain his composure, looking away and focusing his attention back on the paperwork, but his mind seemed to betray him as a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at seeing that smile, knowing that you were the one who could bring it out in him. He was the tough and stoic leader to everyone else, but with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and open.

The rest of the team had amused grins on their faces, watching the two of you with knowing looks. Their usual boss, who rarely showed any emotion, appeared so content and happy whenever you were around. It was a sight they cherished, seeing the man they respected and admired, smile genuinely because of you.

As the night grew on, everyone on the jet was asleep, but you and Aaron were still awake. You laid your head on Aaron’s shoulder, your hand clasped with one of his, as he continued looking through the paperwork. It was a habit for him to bury himself in work, even during quiet moments like this.

You gently nudged the papers away, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Stop, you need to sleep.”

“You need to sleep, too.” He whispered, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender gesture.

You sighed softly, giving him a determined look. “Okay, but you have to stop this. You can look at these when we get back, but for now, you need rest.”

A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Anything for you.”

You gladly kissed him back, feeling a rush of warmth and love for this man. His dedication to his job and his team was commendable, but you also wanted him to take care of himself. He deserved rest and peace, especially after the intense case and the events of the day.

You settled into a comfortable position, still holding each other’s hands, and let the gentle hum of the jet lull you both to sleep. In each other’s arms, you felt a sense of comfort that reassured you, everything had a way of falling into place as it was meant to be.

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unlosts · 3 days

Text

two slow dancers, last ones out

Summary: Unrequited love and a wedding are not a good match, but a luckily you have someone there to keep you company.

2k words

The wedding fell into place like a house of cards tumbling down, in a rush and without much fanfare. JJs dress was lovely, because of course it was, a sea of ivory white twinkling almost as bright as her smile against the placid night air. Everyone was able to make it and despite it being planned with just a few hours to spare the night was as beautiful as one would hope. Beginning of spring ushering a new chapter and all that nonsense.

Not that you were bitter about it.

At all.

Or at the very least you were trying really hard not to be, because they were a lovely couple. Will loved JJ, and JJ loved Will.

The issue was that Spencer also seemed to love JJ.

Again, not that you were bitter about it.

After months of quiet pinning and frustrated yet unreciprocated glances you had called it quits, because it seemed like no matter how many 18th century poetry readings you attended with him, no matter how many early morning car rides or late nights spent talking in hushed tones side by side on the plane, you were simply never going to be the one he wanted.

And you had come to terms with it.

Really.

The fresh heartbreak had been ushered out and been replaced by humiliation a long time ago, looking back you were sure everyone could tell how stupidly in love you had been and how utterly un-reciprocated it was. Every time you remembered how optimistic and doe eyed you had been about the whole thing, something bright and hot burned in the back of your eyes. It was all just so painfully juvenile and you swore you had left the doe eyes behind alongside your cheer uniform and locker combination.

The night had an air of finality to it, you knew that in one way or another nothing would be the same again, and you didn’t want to miss it. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and staying with the wallflowers until closing time.

It would have been easier to do an irish goodbye to the italian planned wedding and slip quietly out the front door but you saw Emily sharing a last dance with Derek and even spied Rossi watching over his hard word with suspiciously misty eyes and you knew you had to stay.

With one hand wrapped over your midriff and the other held aloft, nursing a now lukewarm aperol spritz by the side of the dance floor, looking at everyone swaying to some old jazz ballad, the singer's soft crooning voice setting your teeth on edge. The feel of a drop of condensation traveling from your hand through your forearm sending a chill down your spine.

The gentle weight of a black jacket being draped over your shoulders snaps you out of your pathetic melancholy, the wedding suddenly snapping into sharp focus as the heady scent of a woody cologne blankets you. Two big hands softly squeeze your shoulders in a silent apology before Aaron Hotchner appears next to you, leaning against one of the white columns with his hands in his pockets.

He scrutinizes you with clever brown eyes, his gaze softly traveling from your pursed lips to your down-turned brows and you know he’s got your number when he gives you a soft sympathetic smile. Just a quick turn of his lips that few people would catch, but you did, and the knowledge that he knows exactly what’s going on through your head makes you feel exposed all of the sudden, you slip your arms into the jack and clutch it to you like it could keep you hidden.

But Hotch is … Hotch simply put and you know above all he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So he remains quiet next to you, only moving to press his side against you in silent comradery, the comforting heat radiating off of him seeping into you.

“Want me to get you another one?” He asks, gesturing to your long forgotten drink. “It’s not often we get to free reign of Dave’s stash” You know he’s trying to cheer you up and you both know it’s failing miserably but you still appreciate the effort nonetheless.

An awkward sort of silence falls between you both until you decide to ruin it, apparently.

“So, where’s Beth?” Your question catches him off guard, he clears his throat and looks down for a second before catching your eyes.

“We broke up, last week actually” He states matter of fact. You nod understandingly and don’t ask but he clarifies anyhow.

“It was mutual, she had a lot going on at work-”

“Huh, go figure”

“and I was” he hesitates “preoccupied” He doesn’t seem to be distraught, telling you like he would the details of a case, objective and to the point.

“Ahh, so you decided to join the singles corner, welcome we meet every Thursday” You raise your glass in a mock toast before finally putting it down on a nearby table.

Hotch raises his eyebrows and it’s all it takes for you to deflate.

“Sorry, you were being nice and I was just bitchy” You sigh, frustrated and maybe a little bit tipsier than you’d like.

“That’s okay, you’re sad, it happens to the best of us”

“Even you?”

He just lets out a self deprecating laugh before handing you a glass of scotch from a passing waiter.

“You saw me after the divorce, I distinctly remember going into a burning house so I would say a couple of drinks more than you’re used to at a wedding of all places isn’t the worst way to go about it”

“That’s different, you were married this is just…pathetic” There was no point dancing around it anyway, you both knew he was fully aware of what you were talking about.

“Well someone once told me that as much as we’d like to, sometimes we have to sit in those feelings before they can go away”

“What a load of new age shit, whoever told you that was a quack” You smile at him anyway, pleased that even after all this time he remembered that.

“Hmm, I happen to think it was useful,” Hotch replies, taking the scotch from your hand and finishing it off.

“Any more pearls of wisdom this oh so sage one imparted upon you?”

“Yes, other times the only thing you can do is pretend that everything is alright for a couple of minutes” He says, extending his hand towards you and gesturing towards the dance floor “what do you say?”

“You should stop listening to her” You reply but still accept, his hand engulfing yours as he expertly leads you through a sea of couples until you’re far enough that you can’t really see anyone else from your team.

He takes you into his arms, one goes to your back and the other takes you hand into his ,you're still wearing his jacket so you just rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.

“...so” You say softly, your words muffled against his shirt. With your eyes closed and your head resting against his chest, you’ve given up dancing and are just content to be cocooned in his arms while he gently sways you both to the tune of the music. Whatever is playing now has long faded to the edge of your conscience, sounding far away.

“Have you ever considered doing all of this again?”

“Getting married?” This close together his voice reverberates pleasantly through your whole body, it feels as if you’ve both stepped into someone else’s wedding and you know each other here.

“Yeah”

“What, you had your turn in the hot seat and now it’s my turn?”

“Yeah”

After a beat he says admits it so softly that you have to strain to hear him properly

“I would have wanted to”

He had long ago decided to settle for the life he had, being a father had to come first, the rest was something he no longer got to want. Or something he wouldn’t admit he still wanted anyway.

You raise your head briefly to look up at him, his tone sobering you up, because you know him, know what he meant. If you had looked just behind Hotch towards the other edge of the dance floor you would have caught Spencer's inquisitive gaze or Penelopes’ delighted one. But you don’t, you’re laser focused on Hotch searching in his eyes for something you can’t quite grasp, a way to convey that he needs to stop atoning for something he shouldn’t fault himself for in the first place.

You fist your hands on the front of his shirt briefly before smoothing out the wrinkles with your palms.

“I didn’t ask about before, I’m asking about you now”

“It’s not that easy”

“It’s a yes or no question, so yes it actually is”

He tilts his head back in frustration, looking up at the night sky like he’ll find the exact words he wants to use spelled for him.

“That’s not something I get to want anymore” “You can’t punish yourself forever”

He begins to say something but you cut him off before he can, his hands tightening around your waist

“Nor should you try” He gulps and looks away giving in “think whatever you want to think but I know you and I think you deserve to be happy again”

“I thought you said I shouldn’t listen to you”

“Momentary lapse in judgment” You reply with a teasing smile, not wanting to fully fuck up his night “so?”

“...Yes” Somehow the admission of desire feels like a betrayal and a confession at the same time. Both freeing and terrifying.

You go back to swaying together, in sync with one another and standing out against the livelier rhythm of the couples around you.

From this vantage point you study his profile, from his strong nose to his thick lashes and back to his jaw. You never really paid attention to him but right now under the tea lights it dawns on you how handsome he is.

“What about you?”

“Oh I’m joining a convent” He chuckles and you feel it move through you. It’s a rare sound nowadays.

“You’ll find someone” Hotch says with a certainty you wished you could have

“That’s just what you say to make people feel better, it’s up there with yes those bangs look great on you or like when you tell little kids that they can be astronauts or whatever”

“I know you’ll find someone because I don’t think anyone could meet you and not realize how extraordinary you are” He says in an almost whisper.

“There is someone who, categorically, doesn’t realize it, in this very same room”

“Could be he didn’t know you as well as you’d think”

“Could be” You concede.

Some time has passed now, although you can’t pinpoint exactly how long, it feels like the rest of the world went quiet and this is all that’s left. The sweet honeyed lilies, fresh jasmines and heady sweet daffodils of the garden are in full bloom. The night sweetly perfumed as the petals gently swayed to and fro.

From across the garden you can see JJ slow dance with Will, he’s saying something to her and she’s all smiles. You let your humiliation melt into fondness, the warmth you felt for her pulling you out of your melancholy. New beginnings and all that.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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tonight-i-may-see · 6 months

Text

He loves me not (Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader)

(Note: Here's a little explanation of hanahaki disease for those who haven't heard of it: x)

cw: hanahaki disease, slightly gorey and gross descriptions, unrequited love, gender neutral reader, ANGST, death.

word count: 1.5k

dividers: x

tag list: @ralvezfanatic @softhairedhotch @samsgoddess @pisceslovrr

Guilt.

That's the last thing you should have felt staring down at the palm of your hand after the agony and panic you'd just experienced, but as the air made it back to your lungs, you were overwhelmed by it.

All he'd done was smile at you. That's it, just a quick, reassuring smile as he went past you to his office. Yet here you are in an empty hallway coming back from hacking up a lung. It had been going on for a while now, only recently it seemed to have worsened from once a month to almost every day. Even now it felt like every time he looked at you there was a rattle in your throat that needed clearing.

The outcome itself had worsened too with time, they started off no bigger than baby's breath, but now they had grown to roses, thick and blood soaked that make you gag as you pull them from the back of your mouth. ‘Well, at least it's only the petals…’ you think to yourself as you go to the bathroom to wash your hands and dispose of what had been expelled from you. You shudder to think what it would be like if stems got involved…especially roses…

“Y/n?” Shit. Emily.

You scrub your hands quickly after tossing the petal in the trash, glancing over at her and smiling as she looks up from her phone.

“You okay? You just walked off in the middle of your paperwork…”

“I'm fine,” You assure her, hoping there's no blood on your teeth.

It’s convincing enough that she leaves you be, giving you time to wash the taste of copper and soil from your tongue. This couldn’t keep happening, it was only a matter of time before someone found out and tried to take you to a treatment centre, and then they’d all know. Aaron is married, you could never do that to him or Haley, so you’d resigned yourself to at home solutions and managing your symptoms by…well…hiding them.

Eventually you make it back out and are immediately called to the table, keeping your eyes fixed on JJ as she gives you the case information. Hotch sat in the same seat every time, so it was easy to ignore him and avoid another disaster. Most paperwork days went like this, 50% done and then you’re off again, giving you even more paperwork for when you get back. It was one of those things that made you whisper how you loved your job as you resisted the urge to actually bite a chunk out of your desk. You feel someone reach towards you as you stand, but you move out of the way before they can stop you in case it’s him. Fortunately it’s Emily, and she follows you down the hall, hand on your arm and a look of concern guiding her brows together. “Hey, what’s going on with you? You stood up like you got electrocuted.”

A shaky sigh slips from your mouth, and you shrug, faking a tight-lipped smile. “Just a little tired, I guess I’m jumpy.”

You weren’t. Not like this, anyway. You knew that, and so did Emily, but she also knew you were stubborn as all hell and if you didn’t want people to know something- you’d take it to your metaphorical grave.

Two and a half hours later, everyone stood in a small but relatively functional sheriff’s office. The case was pretty cut and dry, a local killer targeting public areas by a town she felt wronged her as a child. Most of the case was spent on different errands with JJ and Rossi, anything to avoid being left in a room with Aaron, you knew with this small of a workstation you’d have to speak to him and an episode would be close to unavoidable.

It doesn’t take long to track the unsub down, finding her at the scene of her first childhood crime. You approach her carefully with everyone else’s guns trained on her as you try to convince her to turn herself in, she’s hesitant at first, but with a few minutes of talking between you it finally seems like she’s calming down-

Then she lunges at you.

Everything happens in slow motion, Morgan runs to pull her back while someone else pulls you too, turning you to bury your face in their chest. Everything is a blur of panic and adrenaline, any noise muffled by your pounding heartbeat while you catch your breath…which is when you smell it.

His cologne.

You are wrapped in Aaron’s arms, one of his hands on your back and the other stroking your hair as he tries to get you back from your startled state. Little does he know, he’s making everything else worse.

The burn is slow at first, like a scraping on your throat that you might be able to wash away with some water, but as you walk to the car with his arm around your shoulders it grows into a firm pressure- then a blockage. You can only clear your throat so many times before it moves enough that you have to cough it out, and you do at first. Until there’s another, and another, and soon enough you’ve fallen to your knees, trying desperately to catch your breath as petals clog your trachea. It’s too much- you can’t even tell what the others are doing through your dizzy head and frantic attempts to inhale through the blood and flowers.

Aaron, as anyone would, panics. He tries his best to smack your back to help your coughing, but when your breathing goes from strained to nearly non-existent, he knows he has to act. “What’s wrong with them?” He shouts, looking at the others for answers he wouldn’t be getting, but Emily still tries.

“Are those petals?” Horror laces her tone as she’s struck by a realisation. The avoidance, the way you’d been so jumpy earlier and had gone to her with questions the past few weeks instead of Aaron…

“Hanahaki…” Spencer says it as the word springs to mind for her. “Hotch…you’re the only one that touched them.” They’re outside, but the temperature drops when they all realise what you’d been hiding. You were in love with him, with your boss- a married man. It didn’t take a genius to realise why it had gotten so bad, the stigma the disease held in the first place was enough to make those that caught it wary of getting help.

It occurred to Aaron at that same time that you had been acting strangely, he had been so caught up with Jack and Haley that he hadn’t had time to notice you. You had been one of his closest friends, once upon a time, but when Haley got pregnant…that’s when it started. Frequent dinners with the two of them became monthly, then special occasions with others, then…nothing. Hell- you’d even declined his invitation to the dumb superbowl party the two of you crashed at Sean’s every year…and he hadn’t noticed. Maybe if you’d said something, or if he’d seen the signs earlier he could’ve let you move past it- he could’ve let you down easy and had his best friend back just as fast. He frantically thinks that maybe there’s still time, and cradles you in his arms, his breathing shallow as he sees your eyes start to roll back.

“No. No, no no-” Hotch jams his fingers in your mouth, almost down your throat, frantic to save you as the petals and blood cling to his fingers. “Please-” He whispers, trying to keep your mouth angled down so anything in it will drop out. You stopped breathing over a minute ago, but he still holds your body close to his chest, desperately crying over it.

“I love you, I love you so much, please don't die- I love you- why isn't it working!?-”

It wouldn't. Of course it wouldn't. Aaron Hotchner loved you…but he wasn't in love with you. Yes, you were his best friend, but you were just that…his friend. His friend who brought wine to every dinner, his friend who was the first to meet his baby boy after Jack's grandparents and at the same time as Haley's sister, His friend who sat through every late night phone call where he stressed over Sean’s future…And now you’re gone.

Blood had been dripping from your mouth…Aaron didn't notice till Rossi took you from his arms and helped the paramedics bag you up- who had called them? He didn't know, he was too distraught just seeing you lifeless. Even after you were gone, your blood and those petals coated his hands and shirt.

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and scream at you, how could you just sit back and let yourself suffer? How could you be that selfish?- No. No, it wasn’t selfish. You were anything but. You had chosen to let yourself die to something entirely curable so that Aaron could’ve lived his life none the wiser to how you felt…so that he could be happy with his wife and their new baby. His life was supposed to be perfect…but instead he was left with a disease you’d passed onto him…one entirely incurable.

Guilt.

#leowrites #aaron hotchner #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #criminal minds #hanahaki #criminal minds x gn reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader

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ssareids-coffee · 1 year

Text

unrequited

hotch x reader series [part 4]

the one where he meets the kids

you settled down onto your sofa with aaron, baby monitor placed on the table beside you incase the twins woke up. shaky hands opening the box, you placed the lid next to you before pulling out a collection of photos. the first one was you, holding your non-existent bump with a positive pregnancy test in your hands.

“this was when i found out, i was about 8 weeks here” you say softly, a small smile on your face as you reminisce.

“it must have been scary, knowing you would be doing it alone” aaron replied, voice thick with emotion “i hope you know, you won’t have too anymore”

you pull out another picture, a grainy ultrasound photo with baby a and baby b written on it with little hearts.

“this was my first ultrasound, about 10 weeks, i had the absolute fright of my life when they said there was two” laughing softly, you hand the picture to him. you watch as he slowly traces the small blobs that were your babies when they were nothing more than tiny peanuts inside you.

“twins run in my family, not yours, so i can imagine why you were so freaked out” he hands the photo back to you, fingers brushing over yours softly.

you hand him some old pregnancy tests to look at, which were so positive they had stolen the dye from the control line.

“i did wonder why they were so positive, but it was because there was two of them” you watch as he looks at the tests, taking in every moment of this as he found out all about his children.

“i’ve never seen such a positive test, not even when haley was pregnant with jack” he laughed softly, gently placing them back in the box.

“this was at my baby shower” picking up a picture of you in a pretty dress with a huge bump to show him “i was absolutely exhausted, swollen and an emotional wreck but mer still insisted that i should have one”

“you look beautiful, pregnant with my babies” he whispered, looking up at you to be met with flushed cheeks and parted lips. you couldn’t deny that aaron being so territorial over you, pregnant, made you want to give him enough kids that you could form your own football team.

“and here they are, when they were first born- i managed to hold them in till 34 weeks which everyone was surprised about as twins tend to be premature, but they were stubborn like their daddy and came in their own time” smiling as you pick out a picture of you and the twins, you look exhausted, sweaty but aaron swears he has never seen you look more beautiful.

“they were so tiny” he whispers, looking at the photo as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

“you haven’t even missed a year, we have plenty of time for you to watch them grow- if you want to that is” you say shyly.

“yes, i am gonna buy a house with enough bedrooms for all our kids, i want to marry you, raise three children and maybe another one or two if you would be okay with that” grabbing your hand and squeezing gently.

“aaron, are you proposing right now?” you giggle, taking your other hand and stroking his face.

“yes, god yes, i’ll buy you any ring you want, any house you want, i just want you to be mine forever”

“yes! of course i’ll marry you!” you cry, pulling him in for a kiss. you hear some movement on the baby monitor, your excitement clearly waking up the twins. you turn to aaron smiling softly “well they are awake now, do you want to meet them?”

“please” he says, voice barley a whisper as he tries to hold in tears. he watches as you disappear into their room, he hears you talking to them softly and it makes his heart melt at how much you love them. he’s pulled out of his thoughts as you enter the living room again with the two most precious babies he has ever seen (not including jack of course). arlo is dressed in a little green onesie with woodland print, and maeve is dressed in a little beige onesie with mushrooms and fairies covering it.

“babies, this is your daddy” you say, tears falling from your eyes as you realise that this moment, you never thought would happen is unfolding in front of your eyes “he is so excited to meet you”

“hi arlo, maeve, you are so perfect” he whispers, letting himself cry freely as he is so overwhelmed with love. you hand him them both, watching as he takes them both in his arms as though he had held them thousands of times before. you had been worried they would cry or scream but it was like they reconsided him, not just from all the pictures you had shown him of you all but it was like they could tell it was their dad. you close the distance between you and aaron, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch him talk to your kids about everything he has planned for you all, promising to love them forever. this was all you ever wanted, and finally, you had it.

tag list-

@the-mouse27

@realdirectionx

@angelmather1

@ana-kat-evergreen

@elhotchner

@ah-blossom

#aaron hotchner unrequited #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch series #criminal minds

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marvelslut16 · 2 years

Text

New Mom

prompt number: 14 "Yes. No. I don't know."

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Rating: E(veryone)

Word count: 3.1k+

Warnings: Some Beth hate. Pining. Sad Jack. Angst. Some unrequited love, but overall fluff.

A/N: This is technically a day late, but I had a funeral yesterday so please cut me some slack. I've had this idea for a while now, and fictober finally made me sit down and write. Also, It's my first time writing for CM so I have no doubt that Hotch is OOC. One last thing, this is a lot more Jack centric than I originally planned, whoops.

Jack is sitting atop Derek’s shoulders, a large sign you helped him make for his dad clutched in one hand, and the other holding your hand. Your arm is starting to hurt at the awkward position and you’re more than a little worried Jack will drop the sign and it’ll blow away in the wind before Hotch gets to the finish line. Luckily he keeps his hold of the poster board and waves it at Hotch when he crosses the finish line.

Hotch is all sweaty and it’s next to impossible to take your eyes off of him. A part of you wants to walk up to him and just lick the sweat off of his face, but you can’t do that for a multitude of reasons, obviously. Derek puts Jack on the ground when Hotch walks to the water table, and he grabs your hand before pulling you with him to his dad. You smile as Hotch places his medal around Jack's neck, the soft gesture proof that he’s an amazing dad, even though he doesn’t see it.

“Did you see the sign (Y/N) and I made you?�� Jack hops around in excitement, still holding your hand. You smile at the memory of laying on the grass this morning with Jack drawing stars and placing stickers sporadically while Jack did all the hard work writing out ‘go daddy go!’

“Yeah I did, Buddy,” Hotch flashes a smile at you before gazing down at Jack again. “The sign is fantastic!”

“Look at you,” you smile widely at him, heat starting to creep up your neck when Hotch turns his attention back to you. “I knew you could do it!”

“Yeah, you were right,” he concedes, having denied you for months now when you had confidently told him he would be able to finish the race with ease.

“Can you say that again?” you gasp playfully, leaning towards Hotch. “I just love being told that I’m right, especially when it comes from you.”

“Oh shut up,” he barks out a real laugh, pulling you into a sweaty side hug. In that moment Jack wraps his arms around both of your waists, and for a split second you can imagine what being a family with your Hotchner boys would feel like.

The team is coming up with places to go grab some food, but you aren’t paying attention, still reveling in the feeling of the arms around you, when a feminine voice breaks through your clouded brain. “Hotchner!” a pretty darked haired woman waves from the crowd and Hotch’s arm immediately falls from your side.

“Beth,” he practically sighs, a genuine carefree smile over taking his face at just the mere sight of her. It’s like a cold bucket of water has been dumped on you, the cold water seeping into your clothes and into your bones, making you feel absolutely miserable as Jack’s hand is being pulled from yours. “Jack, there’s someone I want you to meet!”

Like the sadist that you are, you watch Hotch immediately pull the woman into a tight hug, jealousy pushes down on you like a ton of bricks, and your heart starts to crack under the pressure. Sure, you knew your infatuation with Hotch, your superior, could never work out, seeing him like this with someone that isn’t you still makes you want to rip your heart out to stop the pain. While the team looks on at the spectacle in confusion, Derek turns to look at you- you can feel his eyes boring holes into the side of his head as he tries to inside of your brain.

Hotch, Jack, and this Beth woman walk over to the group, his arm is wrapped around her back and the childish urge to cry arises. Jack immediately runs back to you, burying his face into your back, trying to hide from the awkwardness of meeting a new person. Your heart starts to crumble as Hotch informs you guys that he’s invited Beth to join the team for lunch, and Jack’s little arms squeeze your middle tighter.

“Pretty girl and I actually have plans,” Derek announces, further confusing the team since he was so adamant about trying this new burger joint not five minutes ago. “I’ve been promising to take her to go see the new Urban Streets photography installation at the Smitsonian. So we’ll have to take a rain check on the team lunch.”

You sigh in relief at his saving you from a very awkward lunch, a lunch you’re not sure you have made it through the whole thing without crying. However, you tense up again when you feel Jack bury his face further into the fabric of your tee shirt, making no effort to move from you and towards his dad, even with the new information.

“Can I come with you and Uncle Derek?” Jack asks loud enough that Hotch, who’s standing next to you, hears his son despite the fact that Jack’s face is pressed tightly to your back.

You pry Jack's arms from your waist, turn around and squat done so you’re eye level with him. “Jack attack, you have to go with your dad today, but we can do something together next weeked if your dad and I aren’t on a case.”

“But I don’t wan’ ta go,” Jack whines dramatically, and you can’t hold back the smile at his cute little pout. “I don’t like her.”

“Sweetie, you just met her,” you whisper, you know Aaron is listening, but you lower your voice so Beth doesn’t start listening in too. Grabbing Jack’s hands you stare into his eyes, “you can’t judge someone that you’ve only talked to once. Your dad obviously really likes her, please give her a chance.”

“Not Judging, profiling,” Derek covers a laugh by clearing his throat, informing you that he’s listening in as well. “She’s not you, don’ wan’ like her.”

“Can you at least try? For me,” he glares at you and you know you’ve won. It’s obviously a low blow to use his love for you against him, but if Hotch is happy again you don’t want to be the reason Jack doesn’t get along with Beth.

In the weeks since the incident at the triathlon, Hotch has pulled away from you. He’s no longer talking to you about anything besides the cases, nor is he inviting you over to spend time with Jack. Instead you're spending all of your free time with Derek drinking beers, whining to him, and taking your frustration out by demoing the house he’s currently working on.

Little fragments of your heart start to break off when Beth is everywhere you look. She’s in a frame on Hotch’s desk, her and Jack are his lock screen, she picks Hotch up for lunch when you guys have paperwork days, and she’s at every gathering the team has. It’s starting to become too much, losing both of your boys, and having it rubbed in your face. Maybe it’s time for you to move on?

“Are you really thinking about transferring back home?” Derek asks, finally getting you alone during a dinner at Rossi’s. You had purposefully made yourself late so he couldn’t get you alone before dinner, knowing you’d get questioned and lectured since he saw the transfer request on your desktop as you two were leaving for the day.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” you sigh, taking a large sip of the expensive wine Rossi cracked open, using the time to mull over your options. “I’m really considering it right now.”

“So there’s nothing any of us can do or say to make you stay here in DC?” his watchful eyes on you, profiling you to see how serious you’re being. His brows furrow and it’s obvious that he can tell that you aren’t lying, you really want to leave.

“You’re leaving?” a little voice shouts from the doorway, his voice cracking. “You can’t leave! You can’t leave me!”

“Shit,” you mutter, whipping around from where you're leaning on the island to see the blonde take off out of the kitchen and towards the bedrooms. You follow after him without a second thought, “Jack! Jack, wait!”

“What’s going on?” Hotch steps in front of you, face worried as he looks from you to his son, who’s slipping into the bedroom he uses anytime he crashes while the team is having dinner.

“He overheard a conversation I was having with Derek, and he didn’t like what he heard,” you sigh as you watch the door click shut, there’s no doubt in your mind that the lock is falling into place and all you can do is watch from afar. “Please just let me handle this, let me talk to him.”

“Fine,” he lets out a long sigh, glancing at the shut door one last time before stepping out of your way. “I’ll give you twenty, if he’s not out of the room by then I’m going in.”

Ignoring his comment, you walk around him and go to the room, immediately trying the handle and finding it locked like you expected. You thump your forehead against the door in defeat, you’re heart breaking at the quiet sobs coming from inside the room. “Jack attack, please let me in,” your voice cracks at the thought of making him cry, you can feel the eyes from the team and their partners on the back of your head, all of them coming to see what your shouting had been about.

“Fine,” Jack’s broken little voice answers, he opens the door a crack before flopping back onto the king bed. You take a deep breath walking into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

You flop down next to Jack, both of you staring quietly at the ceiling for a minute- you counted- before you finally say something. “Please talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he grumbles, turning onto his side and away from you. Your heart shatters, he’s icing you out, for the first time ever he’s not seeking comfort in your arms.

“Jack please-” your cut off when he jumps out of the bed and away from you the moment you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“No! You want to leave me,” his brows furrow and he looks just like his dad. But your cute observation is quickly swept to the back of your mind when you notice a fresh set of tears shining in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, no. I don’t want to leave you,” you whisper, hands reaching out to grab his little ones, and you’re beyond thankful that he doesn’t pull away this time.

“Why would you transfer?” Jack looks so confused, you can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out the answer for himself.

“Stupid grown up reasons,” you sigh, a tear slipping down your face.

“‘M so sick of hearing that,” he sighs, his voice and posture changing to mimic his father. “I’ll tell you when you’re older, you’re too young to understand, you’re just a kid. Just tell me the truth!”

“You really want to know the truth?” you know his last statement wasn’t directed specifically at you, but adults in general. Jack nods, you sigh before continuing, “I fell in love, and that person doesn’t love me back, not like I love ‘im at least. And I see him every day, it hurts so much. My heart breaks whenever I see him so happy with someone else, and I just don’t think I can do it anymore. The last thing that I want is to leave you Jack attack, but I can’t just sit there and see him everyday.”

“He works for the FBI?” Jack deduces, not really the reaction you expected.

“Well aren’t you a little profiler?” you sniffle, wiping away tears you hadn’t realized you spilled.

“Daddy!” Jack rips the door open and takes off down the hall. Confused, you follow him, is he smarter than you think and he’s figured out who you were talking about? “Daddy, you need to fire him!”

“Fire who?” your eyes widen in shock and you freeze up, you already know what Jack is about to out your feelings, and in front of everyone.

“The guy who broke her heart,” you miss Jack pointing at you, too busy making a face at Derek who is starting to cackle. “Please fire him, don’t let her transfer!”

“You’re going to transfer?” Aaron looks up at you and you don’t know where to look, both him and Jack are giving you matching puppy dog eyes. The rest of the team is staring at you in confusion, minus Derek who is watching on in amusement, and Beth is watching your movements closely.

“I started the paperwork this morning,” you awkwardly clear your throat, Jack throws his arms around your legs squeezing tightly.

“When were you going to tell me?” vulnerability slips through for a split second, before his face and eyes harden.

“When I gave you the paperwork?” it comes out as more of a question than a statement.

“I can’t lose another mom!” Jack cries into your thigh and your heart stops, does he really see you that way?

Everyone starts to fade away as Jack climbs up your legs, realizing what he’s trying to do, so you scoop him up. Jack immediately buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel tears falling from his eyes onto your collarbone, as well as his body shaking from the force of his sobs. You try to soothe him but all that accomplishes is causing your own tears to spill onto the top of Jack’s head. You can’t leave now, you can never leave Jack. You walk back to the bedroom without another word, assuming that Hotch will be hot on your heels since the three of you obviously have some things to discuss.

But Hotch isn’t behind you, he’s walking to the backyard with Beth. So you shut the door behind you and try to set Jack down. But all he does is cling tighter and cry harder, so you plop yourself on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jack quickly resituates so he’s curled up on your lap, and you just let him sit there and cry. Hotch enters the room- without knocking- around twenty minutes later, Jack’s tears have dried, but he’s still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

“Jack,” Hotch sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out and placing his hand on his son’s back. “What did you mean out there when you said you couldn’t lose another mom?”

“I already lost mommy,” the boy sniffles, removing his head from the crook of your neck to turn and look at his father. “And I can’t lose my new mom too.”

“Why do you see me as your new mom?” you ask lightly, and know instantly that you’ve phrased the question wrong because he tenses. “I’m not saying your feelings are wrong, sweetheart, I just want to know how you started thinking of me that way.”

“We were doing stuff in class for mothers day this week,” you watch Hotch tense up now, you know how much he tries to avoid mothers day for Jack’s sake. “The class was saying everything their mom’s do for them, and you do that stuff for me. You read to me over the phone when I can’t sleep, even if you and daddy are in a different state. You take me shopping for clothes and toys, and you always get me a pretzel when we go to the mall. You make me and Daddy breakfast and dinner when you guys aren’t working a case, and you help me with my homework when daddy doesn’t know what to do. You come to all of my soccer games and buy me ice cream after to celebrate if we won or to cheer me up if we lost. You do everything a mom does, and I love you.”

“I love you too,” you give him a big smooch on his forehead as you start to sob now, you had no idea those little things you did for him meant so much.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jack panics when he realizes you’re crying.

“No, Jackers, I think those are happy tears,” Hotch soothes him, and you nod vigorously in agreement.

Jack reaches out to grab his dad’s hand, pulling him up to sit next to you against the headboard. Once Hotch is situated, Jack burrows himself between the two of you, your hand in one of his and Hotch’s in the other. “I wish you loved Daddy, then we could be a family.” Before either of you can respond, Jack is out like a light, his crying must have really tired him out.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, you still haven’t looked at Hotch once since he walked in the room, despite the fact that he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“For what?” he asks genuinely, his free hand reaching to grab yours. “You’re like a mother to him, it’s not that surprising, you’ve clung to each other from the first moment you met. I still remember calling you one night when Haley was out of town with Jess, and Jack wouldn’t stop crying. I knew he would stop crying when he heard your voice, and he did, he always does.”

“I don’t want to get in the way of you and Beth,” you can’t control the way your voice cracks at the mention of their relationship. “Not when you’re finally happy.”

“There is no me and Beth, not anymore,” he squeezes your hand tighter, and you can't help but look at him. “We broke up, actually she broke up with me. She realized that I’m in love with you and that I was dating her so I could ignore my feelings for my subordinate, my best friend. But (Y/N), I do love you, Jack loves you, we are a weird unconventional family.”

“I love you too Aaron,” one last tear trickles down your cheek. “I couldn’t stand seeing you with Beth anymore, that’s why I wanted to transfer. But I couldn’t actually go through it, I couldn't bring myself to leave you, and I could never leave Jack.”

“You are a great mother to him, even without realizing it,” you both glance down at Jack.

“What’s next?” you ask bashfully. Hotch leans forward, his lips landing perfectly on yours, mindful not to squish the sleeping child between you.

“A long and painful conversation with Strauss,” you giggle at his joke, leaning in to kiss him again.

#fictober #day 2 #fictober22 #hotch x bau!reader #aaron hotcher x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch fanfiction #hotch x y/n #hotch imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine

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boldlyvoid · 1 year

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I Know Places: Mayhem

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: After Aaron is hurt during a terrorism case in New York City, reader is faced with the undeniable truth that she is falling in love with her boss. While ensuring that he doesn't lose his hearing, she nurses him back to health despite her coworkers' knowing looks and comments. Navigating through her crush, knowing he's still in love with his ex-wife is going to be rough.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (mentions of rape and murder), hurt/comfort, Drug use tw as well as drug addiction mentions, unrequited love (so she thinks), There's only one bed

Word count: 15,088

From the moment Aaron was served divorce papers in the office, something about him changed. He was angry, which was to be expected. He was unpredictable as if he was ever predictable before… He was hot-headed, willing to jump down someone's throat at the drop of a hat, but he was also quiet. Withdrawn. He looked lonely.

She watched on from the sidelines, she brought him coffee on days where it seemed worse and sometimes even a baked good just to get him to smile. She offered to partner with him at the precincts, share hotel rooms, and drive with him just for the chance to get him to talk.

Keeping it inside wasn’t helping.

And at first, he didn’t say anything. Little by little, as he realized she wasn’t going to share his feelings with everyone on the team, he began to tell her things.

She stayed back to help him with paperwork, he picked her up in the mornings so they could get coffee and treats together, and he even called her on days off just because he wanted to. They’d stay up for hours, in their own beds, sharing little stories about growing up and failed relationships and sometimes they would say absolutely nothing… it was nice just to know the other was there. Her favourite moments, however, were when he’d put on the same show she had on in the background just so they could talk about it.

She went from wishing he had someone to talk to, to being his friend and keeping all his secrets. It was nice…

And then they went to New York.

Kate Joyner, the lead agent on this case, was a spitting image of his ex-wife, Haley. It was almost scary how much they looked alike, and of course, Aaron has known her for years. He met her at Scotland Yard and they “Liaised” whatever the fuck that meant. Everyone was skeptical of her at first, even the beat cops on the task force… for them, it was the way she acted more important than she was, her posh accent and the overall misogyny of hating successful women.

For Y/N, it was the way Aaron looked at her. The way he doted on her and agreed with her every move. The way he’s sticking to her side like a lost puppy and how he doesn’t see anything wrong with his new behaviour.

It was at this moment that she realized her boss wasn’t just her friend. Not even her best friend. She had a crush on him and the mere idea of him liking someone else was sending her into a tizzy.

She found herself agreeing with Derek Morgan more than ever before on this case, not because she knew he was right (he was) but because it meant she could go against Agent Joyner. She was argumentative for a very petty reason, but at the end of the day, Derek was right. Kate was on her high horse, she wanted to stay in the good graces of the FBI and keep her job. And that cost her another life.

This case is unlike anything she’s seen yet. Unlike the others, she hasn’t been on the team long enough to have seen one of everything. Morgan, however, has been. From being a Chicago cop, on the bomb squad and 3rd in command at the BAU, he’s seen almost everything.

When they touched down in NYC, there had been 5 victims already, the local FBI was on the scene as it was protocol, but the BAU was a last-ditch effort to crack this case. Each victim had been shot, point blank in the head and the unsub was able to flee each time without being seen. Those who did get a glimpse only saw a black hoodie. Nothing more. There was nothing to tie the victims together, each killed in a different neighbourhood, no common victimology, no sexual component, no robbery and no geographical connection. It was as if they were random. Like the unsub didn’t care who he killed, he just wanted the thrill of killing.

He’s killing roughly every two days which doesn’t give the investigation team much time to come up with theories or ways to catch him in the act, between kills. The press is having a field day, the civilians of New York are terrified and the police are stumped. It hasn’t been this bad since the Son of Sam in ’76.

When they arrived, Agent Reid was quick to get a geographical profile up and running to asses the unsub's comfort zone. Hells Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown and East Harlem were all marked on the board. Using anti-geographical profiling, they note that the unsub is organized, he strikes at the same time of day he knows where the cameras are placed and that all means he’s doing his own surveillance. These spots aren’t random. They mean something to him. And because of how calculated he is, they know he’s a need-based killer. He’s killing outside of his comfort zone… meaning every other neighbourhood in the city has a reason to be terrified.

The 6th victim is killed while holding a pretzel, hailing a cab. By the time the public registers that there has been a gunshot and taken cover for themselves, the unsub has faded into the crowd once again. Not before leaving a tarot card, this time.

Death.

It’s the same card the D.C sniper left at the scene of one of his scenes. Either this unsub has no idea its spiritual meaning of rebirth and transformation… or he has a deep understanding of Behavioural Profiling and he’s toying with them. They’re going with the latter theory.

They also brought along their technical analyst this time. Penelope Garcia. She’s been looking over all of the surveillance footage from each crime scene, including the most recent. With her physically there with them, she’s able to run her own software and programming through the old-ass NYPD tech and she’s figured out something huge. There isn’t just 1 unsub. There are two.

They’re not killing together, which is weird. From previous killing teams, they know it’s highly unusual for them to do things apart from one another, which leads them to suspect they might be dealing with a gang. There could be more than 2 unsubs and until they know more, Derek wants them out on the streets so they can be even more hyper-vigilant.

Kate, however, didn’t like that suggestion.

“These guys hit at midday,” he reminded her and ranted until Hotch cut him off. “We could target ingress and egress to particular neighbourhoods, position us near express stops. 14th, 42nd, 59th—

“Morgan, Morgan stop. It’s not your call.”

Instead of taking Morgan's great advice. They went back to their hotels for the night.

Aaron had noticed that Y/N was being strange. He could sense her distaste for Kate and thus, he distanced himself from her for the case. He had his own hotel room, so did their other leader, David Rossi, and almost everyone else shared. Reid went with Morgan and she was supposed to room with JJ, only JJ’s boyfriend showed up… she’s pregnant and he couldn’t stand the thought of not being with her during a case like this.

It just drove home to her even more just how alone she was.

In the morning, Aaron stayed with Kate at the precinct and Y/N huffed about it. Instead, she stuck herself to Spencer’s side as they gave their profile that morning, to the news, the police and the rest of the FBI agents at 26 Federal Plaza.

Just as they finish their talks, the unsub hits their 7th target. At 59th and Lex. Right where Morgan predicted they’d hit next. Thus causing the two men to shout at each other in front of everyone in the building.

“I said to put us at express stops, 14th, 42nd, 59th,” his voice gets louder with each number. “And that’s exactly where they hit!”

“It’s not your place to have this discussion!” Hotch shouts back.

“My place?”

“You need to back off,” Hotch warns.

“We’ve got seven bodies, man!”

“Which is exactly why we need to stay focused.”

“Focused?” Derek all but laughs in his face. He drops his voice, steps in closer to Aaron and looks past him to Kate before continuing. “‘Cause from where I’m standing, all you seem to be focused on is her.”

“Take a walk. Now,” Aaron matches his tone and then turns away from him.

The whole office is quiet. Not a single sound is heard. It was true. Aaron’s been uncharacteristically following this woman’s lead since the moment they got there… even before when he talked her up on the jet over.

Y/N catches his eye, silently relaying that she agrees with Derek… he’s not wrong. Even Hotch knows it.

This 7th kill brings forth the knowledge that there is a 3rd shooter. You see, one of the programs Penelope has takes the height of the unsubs on the camera, across the 7 videos there are 3 different heights. They’re definitely working with a team but not a gang. They haven’t reached out to the police, the media or given any clue as to what their mission is yet, either.

—

The next morning, Y/N is sent out onto the streets, partnered up with one of NYPD’s finest. Detective Cooper. He’s respectful, loyal and kind. They get along like a house on fire. He’s one hell of a flirt, but he doesn’t mean anything he says because he’s happily married. He’s funny, too, making her laugh as they walk through the streets, patrolling 14th Street, downtown and Brooklyn, baby.

There’s a gunshot which makes their heads turn in the direction from which they heard it. It takes seconds for them to start moving towards it, and even quicker for Y/N to press the button inside her jacket sleeve to talk with Penelope in the surveillance booth. “Garcia?”

“I’m on it, I’m on it,” she rushes through the speaker in Y/N’s ear. Searching hundreds of cameras for the unsub. “16th and Broadway! He’s running east on 16th!”

“He’s headed our way,” she says, tapping Cooper's arm and taking off with him down the block.

The unsub sees them and starts running the other way, they both draw their weapons and sprint even faster after him. Cooper is quick on his feet, he must’ve been a runner in his high school days as he’s leaps and bounds in front of her.

The unsub darts down an ally, runs halfway and waits for Cooper to turn the corner and bang. He shoots Cooper in the chest. Having seen it happen, Y/N rounds the corner with her finger on the trigger and pulls it, twice, as soon as her sights are on the unsub. He goes down before he can even get a second shot out.

She takes his weapon from him, makes sure he’s going to stay down and rushes back to Cooper. “Cooper!! Garcia, we’ve got an officer down on 16th west of union square!” She shouts into her mic.

“let me see,” she instructs Cooper to lay back and let her look at the wound. It’s on his left shoulder, bleeding like a son of a bitch. “Okay. You’re okay it’s going to be okay.”

“Garcia, can you see us?” She shouts into the mic again. “We have an officer down!”

She presses down on his wound, “Cooper stays with me, It’s going to be okay.” She assures him. Keeping her eyes on his until they hear sirens approaching. “See, it’s all good, you’re going to be fine.”

The ambulance arrives first, one paramedic attends Cooper, and the other attends the unsub. Not long after, Morgan, Rossi, Reid and JJ are arriving on the scene together. Cooper lost a lot of blood but they think he’ll make it. He’s loaded up and taken to the hospital as a second ambulance arrives purely for the unsub. He’s not going to make it. All the answers to the questions they had, died with him.

“I should’ve had to shoot him,” she says to herself mostly. Trying to rationalize what just happened.

“he shot a cop, Y/N you did what you had to do,” Derek reminds her.

“I know… I just mean, he was ahead of us. He could’ve gotten away but he stopped. He waited for Cooper to round that corner. He shot him on purpose.”

“Tell me about his behaviour, was he panicked? Was he winded?”

“His hands were steady,” she recounts. “His eyes were dead calm. I mean, these guys have been hyper-vigilant. Organized! They do pre-surveillance. I mean, what are the odds they would shoot someone only two blocks from where me and Cooper are standing?”

“You mean he deliberately caught someone where he could be caught?” JJ asks.

“What if he did? What if he chose this spot because we were here?”

“What are you thinking?” Derek asks, wanting to know where she could possibly take this.

“He had no ID on him. He waited until we caught up to him, he was strangely calm, I-I-I, it, it was like suicide by cop!” She sums it all up with a stutter.

“Why? Why would he do that?” Derek asks.

“I don’t know? Maybe to make us think everything was finished?” She hypothesizes. “What if they don’t know we know there are 3 of them and this was their way of getting us to think we did it. We got the bad guy. We can go home now. What if they want us to back down so they can do something worse?”

“We need to go back through the profile and figure out what we missed,” Derek announces, agreeing with her that something is off.

Hotch and Kate show up mere seconds later, dipping under the crime scene tape and rushing over to their little group. Rossi and Reid, who were standing over the body of the unsub, make their way over too. It's a team huddle.

“We think we might have a serious problem,” Rossi announces.

“What is it?” Hotch asks.

“We have multiple unsubs, they’re disciplined, they’re using counter-surveillance. They know the FBI movements, there’s a hierarchy. What does that usually equal?” He poses it back to Hotch.

“Terrorism,” he answers.

They get off the streets then, regrouping back at Federal Plaza to go over the newest findings and re-profile the unsubs. Reid explains that these murders simulate a bombing. They station someone to watch the scene and gauge police response time, at which point they know when to bring in a second bomb. Their ideal situation is to take out a first round of civilians and a second round of first responders. they’ve seen this before, just never like this.

Something bigger is coming. How soon? They don’t know.

“I think they’re targeting points of entry,” reid points out, referring to his map. “Each murder has taken place at a bridge or tunnel.”

Y/N steps up closer to the board. “Holland tunnel, midtown tunnel, Manhattan bridge.”

“If a bomb went off, the emergency response would shut down any ability in or out of the city,” JJ reminds them. “It’s like people would be trapped on the island.”

“Keep in mind it’s still a theory, like any profile,” Aaron says, calming their nerves before they all panic.

Just then, Garcia calls Morgan's phone. “We’ve got a problem. I went ahead and checked all 4,468 cameras and they’ve hacked into the surveillance system. They’ve got footage of every crime scene. They’ve been watching since the beginning.”

“How could we not have caught this?” Hotch asks.

“They were smart. They hacked in one camera at a time, it wasn’t system-wide, I had to check each camera one at a time.”

“And this is from every crime scene?” Y/N asks, making sure she has it right in her mind.

“I’m afraid so… they hacked into 1 camera at every scene. The one with the best angle, we only caught it because Lisa here, my number 2, was checking the days after each murder and noticed the shots were different. The angles changed so minutely that you wouldn’t notice a difference unless you were zoned in on that camera 24/7.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Derek says. “Call us if you find anything else.”

“So much for theory,” Dave retorts.

“We need to hit the ground running,” Kate stands, visibly anxious about what this means to her job.

She’s so close to being fired and replaced, she’s been warned they want to replace her with Derek Morgan. It’s why the two of them have been butting heads. She wants to get ahead of his before all of New York City is up in flames and her head is on the chopping block.

“Reid,” Hotch calls his attention as they enter the room. “Take Y/N go brief Port Authority police.”

“Yes sir,” they both agree at the same time.

“JJ I want you on the phone running point with the Governor, Dave will you go talk to the commissioner? And Morgan, I want you to brief Homeland Security. Kate and I will meet with the Mayor.”

Everyone starts to get up and get going, “We’ll meet back here as soon as possible. Stay alert, stay vigilant. With them knowing were here, we could become a target.”

She lets Reid drive, throwing him the keys as they walk to the elevators. They’re the first to leave. They make it 6 blocks from the plaza when they hear the news over the radio. 10-80. That’s cop talk for an explosion. They slow down, reid pulls them to the side of the road and they listen closely. “Please note that 10-80 was a car bomb.”

Reid flips on the sirens, all the traffic on the road comes to a halt and he u-turns out of there faster than she’s ever seen him move a vehicle. With their lights and sirens going, they run every red light, they make it back to Federal Plaza and rush up to see the rest of the team. The whole time, she’s on the phone, trying to get at least 1 member of the team but there’s no service. “New York of all places should have service!” She shouts, slamming her flip phone shut again.

“we’re here,” Reid announces, throwing the car in park.

They rush back upstairs, it’s just Rossi that’s left in the building. “A car bomb?” Y/N says as she makes it to Rossi’s side. “Did they say where?”

He shakes his head. “No, and the cell towers are down. This is what we’ve been waiting for. We’re looking at 8 suicide bombers that are about to hit each and every location of the murders. Reid, I need you to make a list and get it to homeland security and quick. Tell them to pour troops into all those sites. This isn’t a false alarm. This is terrorism.”

“Actually, if we’re correct, it’ll be 16 suicide bombers,” he reminds Rossi. “One for the civilians. One for the first responders.”

“Fuck,” Rossi mumbles under his breath. Referring to the TV for a moment as the first news reporters have arrived on the scene.

The woman on screen holds her hand to her ear, listening to what information she has. “I’m hearing that the explosion was a car bomb. The car in question was a black SUV just outside 26 Federal Plaza.”

They all know what that means. Hotch was right.

Rossi presses the quick dial button for the CCTV command post, getting in touch with Penelope as she returns to the computers. “Can you see anything?”

“I literally just sat down sir, give me one moment,” she says as they hear furious typing. “Where am I looking?”

“they said the explosion was a Black SUV just outside Federal Plaza—

“Oh no, you don’t think—

“I need you to look, Penelope,” he pushes her back to the main focus. “Can you see anything yet?”

“Hold on I have 300 camera angles and— have you heard from anyone?”

“I’m here with Reid and Y/L/N, but we haven’t heard from anyone else.”

“Oh no, oh no no no,” she chants to herself as she keeps looking. “Sir, I’ll call you when I know more I cannot multi task like this.”

“Thank you, Garcia.”

Until then they just have to sit and wait… just not in this building.

A Critical incident command centre is set up at 700 Hudson, they’re rushed out of 26 fed, down the back stairwell and out the door. A shuttle bus comes to pick them all up in waves, and a bomb sniffer dog is there too, checking the shuttle busses before they leave, they even check Reid and Y/N’s SUV before they head out themselves. They stare out the windows, trying to get any look they can at the scene but they don’t pass it. They’re completely in the dark as to what is going on.

When they make it to the command centre, JJ is pulling up right behind them.

“oh my god, JJ,” Y/N wraps her up in a hug. “Have you heard from the others?”

“My phone isn’t working,” she complains. “Come on, let's head inside. I’m sure there’s a news helicopter out by now and live footage from the scene.”

Upstairs, the phone is ringing like crazy, Dave rushes to it and hits the speaker. “Hello?”

“Rossi, open the computer I have live footage from the blast!”

At the same moment, Y/N turns on the TV then to see helicopter live footage of the scene. It shows Aaron and Kates SUV in flames, Kate on the ground and Aaron covered in blood hovering over him.

She almost loses her mind thinking he’s hurt. She starts to leave, grabbing her things and searching for the keys in Reid's bag but it’s not there. “What are you doing?” He stops her.

“Aar—Hotch, he—he needs us? Shouldn’t we go to him?”

“We profiled that the first attack was to garner a response from the police, if the police and ambulance show up there will be a second bomb taking out all the first responders, we can’t go,” he reminds her.

“But he’s hurt and bleeding? Shouldn’t someone go to him? Let me go to him!”

“Y/N… we can’t,” Spencer looks her dead in the eyes, all the compassion in his soul seeping out through his own, he knows why she wants to run to him. But he can’t let her.

“Hey, hey look,” JJ calls their attention back to the TV to show Derek running up to him. “Look, Dereks there, he’s going to help him until we know it’s safe to bring in the emergency services.”

She quickly makes her way back to the TV, watching with a hand over her mouth, she’s beyond worried. Anxious doesn’t even begin to cover the sinking feeling in her chest. Kate’s dying. He has to watch a second woman who looks like his wife leave him in just a few short months. This is going to kill him if another bomb doesn’t.

Penelope has eyes on the crime scene, she calls both JJ and Derek, allowing the team to have some form of communication altogether. She goes back on the security footage, and she notices the bomber place the bomb and sit around and watch it go off… and then he returns to the scene.

He was the same kid currently “helping” Hotch.

He even called 911 for him… the next thing they see on the TV is Derek take off after the unsub and a single ambulance pulls onto the scene.

“Can I go now?” Y/N asks the rest of them.

“Yeah, you can” Rossi agrees. “Penelope you find out what hospital they’re going to through the dispatch system and Y/L/N’ll meet them there.”

“Got it, sir… but I’m not seeing anyone dispatched to Hotch’s location?” She explains. “There’s a strict order not to go… they must’ve gone of their own volition.”

“Okay… can you follow the ambulance on the cameras?” JJ suggests, “Find out what way they’re going and cross that with the nearest hospital.”

“I can do that,” she says, furiously typing away. “Yeah, I can do that…. Okay, they’re headed uptown…”

She wants to run. She feels like she could chase down the ambulance and meet Aaron there in a matter of seconds, that’s how much adrenaline is rushing through her veins.

“Saint Barclays!” Penelope shouts once she has it. “Go, go now!”

“Spence, keys!” Y/N shouts to him and he throws the keys her way. She catches them and then she’s off. She doesn’t even take the elevator, she runs down 6 flights of stairs, pushes open the fire exit doors and books it for their SUV.

Once inside she has the car on, her seatbelt fastened and her lights and sirens on. She speeds down the street, whipping the SUV around corners, she haphazardly comes to a halt in the emergency parking lot and throws the car in park. She leaves her door open and runs inside the emergency room.

She stops the first nurse she sees, “Hi, hi, I’m looking for agent Hotchner? He just came in he— oh my god,” she notices him. “Is he okay?”

“So far we’ve diagnosed him with acute acoustic trauma in his right ear and the doctor is working on pulling shrapnel from his left leg. But he’s going to be okay. He passed out shortly after arriving, my guess is that the adrenaline didn’t allow him to realize how hurt he was and so the blood loss and the equilibrium challenges from his ear injury all caught up to him all at once.”

“Okay,” she calms down a bit. “And the agent he brought in?”

“She’s in surgery,” the nurse explains. A solum look on her face. This won’t end well.

“Can I sit in there with him?” She asks, pointing to Aaron’s little corner of the ER.

She shakes her head, “Not until the doctor is done. When he wakes up he might be a little scared and confused, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt as well.”

“Okay…” she understands, so she waits there, resting against the nurses station and watching over him from afar.

Morgan comes rushing in not long after. She’s too busy listening to him talk to the nurses to notice that Aaron is up, he’s confused and yelling from his ear injury. He rips off his vital cords, and there’s an elongated beep ringing through the ER as the nurses try to get him to sit down.

“Agent Hotchner—

“Aaron,” she cuts the doctor off and rushes in front of him. Places her hands on his chest and looks up into his eyes, “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Calm down… you’re at the hospital. Kate is in surgery, Derek is here too.”

“I need my clothes,” he says in a softer tone. “Where are my clothes?”

“We’ll get you your go bag, just calm down a second,” she ushers him back to his bed and makes him sit down.

“Has anything happened since the bomb went off?” He asks, looking past her to Derek.

He shakes his head. “No.”

“And Sam?” He asks.

“He’s dead.”

That must be the kid who detonated the bomb and stayed back to pretend to help… he just wanted to see the results of his destruction.

“The team needs to be here, we need to discuss this together… I don’t understand why they’d just set off one bomb and in a place none of the other attacks happened?” He says, trying his best to rationalize it but he can’t figure it out.

“I’ll call the others… Y/N?”

“I’ve got him,” she smiles over to Derek. “Go.”

She turns back to Aaron with a small smile, she looks to his ear which is packed with cotton and the dried blood that dripped down his neck. “Excuse me?” She grabs the attention of one of the nurses. “Can I have some antibacterial wipes, I just want to clean the blood off him?”

“Sure,” the nurse says before disappearing for a moment. “Here,” she hands her a few things to get him all cleaned up.

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Thanks,” Aaron adds. Feeling sorry for reacting the way he did moments ago. “You don’t have—

“Well, I’m going to,” she cuts him off. She peels open one of the little packets and unfolds the wet wipe inside of it. “I’m sorry if this stings at all.”

She wipes the blood off his ear and neck, she tilts his head back a bit and she starts on the marks on his forehead and cheeks, her heart aches for him. He reaches out and holds her around her hips, letting his shoulders drop as he relaxes a bit… and then he rests his head against her chest and hugs her.

She rubs his back, “You’re okay…” She rests her cheek on the top of his head for a moment. Resisting the urge to kiss his head, instead, she waits for him to pull back and then she smiles at him. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know who I’d talk to anymore if I lose you.”

“You’d need something a lot stronger than a bomb to get rid of me,” he teases, finding his humour again.

She manages to laugh. “Okay, big guy, I’m glad to see your humour is still intact… how’s your leg?”

He looks down at it, his hospital gown rests at his thigh, and he can see the bandages on his calf. “Okay, I didn’t realize I hurt it?”

“Shrapnel,” she explains. “They got it all.”

“That’s good.”

Derek comes back around the corner then. “The teams on the… way? You two wanna tell me something?” He teases.

“Oh hush,” Y/N waves him off. “I’d worry if it was you or Reid or JJ too.”

“Not Rossi?”

“He barely ever steps into the way of danger,” she reminds them. “He’s too old for this shit.”

She takes a step back from Aaron, his hands fall back to rest on his own legs, and he sighs. “Any news?”

Derek shakes his head. “None. Homeland security is about to call everyone off, they think this was all a false alarm.”

“They’d be stupid to do that,” Aaron remarks.

“I know… it doesn’t make any sense?”

“Who did that Sam kid keep calling? Garcia said that there weren’t any ambulances dispatched to his area, how’d they know to get there?” Y/N asks.

“I don’t know… let me call Garcia,” Derek suggested, stepping out of the room again.

“The hospital's on a bypass,” Aaron looks up at her with horrified eyes. “The secret service is here, they didn’t want to let us in but… oh, god, I drove the bomb right in here.”

“We don’t know that,” she tries to push his worries away.

“We do. We do know that. They knew we’d catch on to them, they knew we’d stop all first responders from actually responding or run the risk of having the first wave taken out as well. This was their way to get to a presidential target.”

The team comes rushing in then, JJ has his go bag in her hands, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’ll change, Y/N tell them what I told you,” he orders, ushering her out of the room and closing the curtain on himself so he can change.

She repeats Aaron's thoughts, and Derek supports his theory by explaining that Sam never called 911. He called the same number 9 times, a disposable phone, that was destroyed around the same time Sam died. They planned this. This is their end game. They had to get moving.

Derek, JJ and Rossi head down to the garage while Y/N Hotch and Reid head up to the operating floor to warn the secret service. The hospital begins evacuations, Derek finds a bomb in the ambulance and Penelope puts a jammer on the cell phone signal so it can’t go off while they think of the next steps… then Derek gets the brave idea to drive the ambulance out of there, towards a clearing, all by himself.

It’s stupid, it’s reckless… but it works.

They find the unsub, the paramedic that Hotch drove in with, sitting down in the ambulance bay, knife to his throat and phone detonator in his hand. He’s waiting for a reconnection. One that will come in 10 seconds. But they’re already onto him… he has no choice but to end his life or go to prison. So he picks up a blade and slits his own throat.

The case ends with 8 dead civilians, an injured cop, 3 dead suspects and the death of Kate Joyner.

Aaron leaves with a broken heart and ringing in his ear that doesn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

The majority of the team heads home. JJ leaves as soon as she can, newly pregnant and with the love of her life. Derek, Reid and Rossi all head back in the bureaus jet… Y/N offers to drive Aaron home. The pressure in the air would hurt him in her flight and taking the train home alone would be sad, so she drives him.

They drive in silence most of the way. He has a few naps, waking up only to drink some water and take more medicine. She expected to be bored, but keeping him safe, making sure he gets home okay, that’s more than worth it.

—

Back at Quantico, Aaron’s placed on a medical leave of absence while he recovers from his ear injury. He’s not happy about it. Not at all. He isn’t allowed to join them on cases, and he’s not even supposed to come into the office until he has a doctor sign off that he’s good to go back into the field… but that doesn’t stop him.

He needs something to do. He’s so bored in his bland little apartment that he comes into the office just to hang out with Anderson and help with paperwork.

He has a couple MRI’s lined up in a week to check the damage to his ear, it still hasn’t stopped ringing which he doesn’t quite mind… it’s the pain that bothers him. He’s been given a prescription for T3s, which worry Y/N just a little. They worry Reid a lot.

Everyone in the office stays up to date with Hotch’s condition, they all talk about it like he’s their father in a nursing home, prescribed something new. It’s sweet how much they care, but Aaron hates being doted on. He hates that people see him as weak even if it’s just for a little while. It sucks not being the leader they’ve come to know and love. But the thing about love is that it doesn’t stop once you get hurt, it just gets bigger.

They’re talking on the phone again too, he holds the receiver to his good ear and he turns on subtitles for their shows so he can still follow along. Every now and then he has her repeat something, and he scolds himself, saying he feels like he’s 85 and senile but she loves it.

“Hey, it just means you actually care about what I have to say.”

“I do care,” he reminds her. “And I appreciate how much you care about me too… I almost forgot what it’s like to have someone care about me so much.”

“Has she reached out at all since the accident?” She pries.

“She brought Jack over the other day for a few hours, he just wanted to cuddle and show me his toys which was nice… Haley sat in the corner and read a magazine the whole time. She didn’t even ask about it.”

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” her heart breaks for him. She knew that the divorce wasn’t his idea, not even the slightest… he still loved her. He probably always would.

He brushes it off, asking her about their latest case instead. She told him everything, from the time they gathered in the briefing room until the flight back home, she recounted it all. He just hummed along, letting her know he was following, he didn’t ask many questions, seemingly because he knew if he just listened longer they’d be answered.

It becomes a habit after that. He calls at the end of a case just to ask her how it went. He knew he could read about it in the paperwork later, but it was more rewarding this way.

He has 1 week left until his ear is healed completely, he’s convinced the doctor to let him go back to work if he takes it easy, which means once they get back from their current case, he’ll be back out there.

He calls her at 11pm Virginia time, knowing she’s just an hour behind him in Illinois. They’re done with the case but staying 1 more night just to sleep it off. He expects her to be in her own hotel room, away from the others, able to take his call… she isn’t. She’s sharing with JJ.

She sees his name on her caller ID and takes her phone with her to the door, “I’m just going to take this I’ll be right back,” she assures JJ.

“Do you have your room key cause I don’t want to get up and let you back in, I’m exhausted,” JJ asks.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” she rushes out as she leaves the room. “Hello?”

“Hey, sorry were you asleep?”

“No, I’m sharing with JJ tonight, we were talking,” she shares.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, how are you? How’s the ear?”

“Good… I can go back to work tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She repeats, concerned as all hell. “Aaron, you still have a tear in your ear, if you’re not careful you’ll lose hearing forever. It’s not a joke. Don’t you want to be able to hear? We can catch a few more bad guys without you. It’s okay?”

“I need to come back to work before I lose my mind,” he responds with a bit of an attitude. “If I have to sit in my tiny ass apartment and stare at these white walls any longer, I will go crazy.”

“I rather you mad than deaf,” she explains, trying to keep herself together. “If you come back to work you’re taking it easy. I’m going to stick to your side like glue, you hear me? I’m not letting this get worse.”

“Fine, mom,” he teases her. “Whatever you wish.”

“I thought you liked that I cared?” She teases back. “You’re my best friend, who else am I going to talk to if you can’t hear me?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” he assures her. “It’ll be fine.”

—

The Angel Maker case is one she studied at the academy. Victims were beaten with the assailants' bare hands until they were dead. Post-mortem stab wounds were found in each victim's torso, made by a screwdriver, each victim's wounds in a different pattern. Some with more holes than the others, as if he was experiencing different amounts of rage with each woman. There were also signs of sexual assault. He completely abused these poor women after death. It was a good thing they caught him.

He died a year ago yesterday, by lethal injection at the prison in Lower Cannon, Ohio. They thought they were done with him as soon as he was lowered into the ground…

Their newest victim, Delilah Grennan, was bludgeoned to death with what is assumed to be a hammer. She too, was stabbed in the chest with a screwdriver. She was also raped. Only the weird part was the semen left at the crime belonged to Cortland Bryce Ryan. The Angel Maker himself.

“So this unsub is a weaker guy?” Derek proposes. “Or at least someone who perceives themself as weak?”

“He brought along the hammer to make sure the job was done,” Y/N adds, staring across the table at Aaron, watching him blink slowly. He’s in pain as if someone smacked him upside the head with a hammer and he’s keeping it to himself.

She almost misses Rossi’s hilarious joke about the elephant in the room… the dead man's seamen at the crime scene, that elephant, all because she’s staring at Hotch. “It’s obvious someone planted the DNA at the scene,” Aaron adds, his voice small yet powerful at the same time.

“In the victim…” Derek reminds him.

“That’s one theory,” Spencer mumbles.

“There's another theory?” JJ asks, leaning over the back of his seat, wondering what’s going on inside that genius head of his.

“Think about who shares the exact DNA profile as another person,” he hypothesizes.

“Reid, you’re not seriously floating around the idea of an evil twin?” Morgan groans, knowing Reid all too well.

“No, I’m not. I’m floating around the idea of an Eviler Twin,” he raises his brows, proud of himself for that one. No one else finds it funny. “Traditionally the concept is a good twin and an evil twin. But in this case, it’s evil twin, Eviler twin.” He says it with more suspense this time.

No one says anything. Y/N just shakes her head, trying not to smile cause it was funny… and then Aaron grips his forehead and hunches forward, something is making his head hurt.

“JJ get him some water,” Y/N suggests right away, keeping her voice down. “Hey, where are your pills?”

He points to his bag over on the other side of the aisle and she’s quick to pull his bag over and start looking for them. She takes two from the little orange medication bottle and slides them across the table just as JJ brings him a glass of water.

“Were you actually cleared to fly?” Morgan asks in a similarly low tone.

Aaron swallows down his medicine and nods, he doesn’t say anything, he just rests his head back against the headrest and keeps his eyes closed. Everyone turns to Y/N instead, asking questions with their eyes. She shrugs, she doesn’t know what to say. Other than she knew this would happen.

—

It happens again when they’re digging up the original unsubs grave. The sound of the metal grinding as the front-end loader hauls the coffin out of the dirt, it’s way too loud for Aaron. He covers both of his ears and starts walking away, cowering from it all. She pats Reid's shoulder so he stays there and watches everything go down with the Sheriff and then she follows Hotch through the cemetery towards a tree that he’s leaned himself against.

She carefully runs her hand over his side, inside his suit jacket, “hey,” she whispers, getting him to look at her. He’s almost crying with how bad it hurts.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers back.

“How am I supposed to look at you?” She argues, raising her voice a little. “You said you were cleared for duty. This isn’t what being cleared looks like. You’re going to go deaf if you don’t take it easy.”

“I’m going to go deaf if you keep yelling at me like I’m 4,” he spits back. Reaching into his pocket for more pills, she takes the bottle from him.

“Uh-uh, no. You had two 3 hours ago. It’s not time for more. Stop putting yourself in harm's way and relying on these,” she scolds him. She steps in even closer to him so it’s just them to hear. “I care about you. I’m not letting you ruin your life because you can’t find the patience to actually heal properly.”

She has her finger pressed into his chest as she stares him down, asserting her own dominance over him. “I’ll be administering these to you from here on out, got it?”

He nods. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good, now the noise has stopped over there, go look in the casket and then I’m driving us back to the precinct,” she says as she steps away from him and marches away.

Reid and the sheriff were the first to see that the casket was empty. Someone stole his body and god knows how long ago. Aaron takes once glance at the empty box and heads back towards the SUV, getting in the passenger side with a huff.

“What’s going on with him?”

“He’s not better. He wasn’t cleared because he’s healed. He was cleared because he’s a sweet talker and the doctor believed his bullshit,” she rants. “He’s taking his meds like candy, he’s not taking care of himself… so I let him have it. I’m going to drive us back, I’m administering his meds from now on. He’s going to actually heal whether he likes it or not.”

Reid follows her to the car, and as soon as they’re out of earshot of the local cops, he asks it. The question she’s been dreading hearing.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” She turns to him with a faux look of confusion. “I mean, yeah? We all do. He’s our boss?”

“No. If this was just you protecting a co-worker, you would’ve done the same thing for me after Tobias Hankel…”

“Spencer,” her heart breaks for him. “I wanted to help you, we all did, but we didn’t know how.”

“You just did to him what you should’ve done for me,” he almost cries. “You should’ve reached into my bag and taken the drugs away from me… but you didn’t. Because I’m just a co-worker to you. Admit it. You love him.”

“I can’t,” she gives in. “He still loves Haley. I’ll never be her.”

“No, you can’t… but maybe he doesn’t want you to be,” Reid simplifies it. “maybe he needs you to be everything she wasn’t.”

“I don’t know,” she sighs, “but we’ve gotta go… I’m sorry, by the way.”

“It’s okay,” he places his hand on her arm and they keep walking. “I’m not jealous or anything, I just sometimes get mad that it happened to me at all.”

“You can talk to me about it whenever,” she makes sure he knows that. “I’m always here for you.”

“Thanks,” he smiles at her, knowing she means it.

—

Turns out, they had difficulties putting Ryan to death. The whole town had a conspiracy that he never actually died… so finding his empty casket rocked the whole police station. Even in his last words, he said he’d come back to life to finish what he started. Putting the town at ease was their number one priority, aside from catching the new killer. Because a town in panic causes more crime, and more death than a single killer could even imagine.

Hotch proposes that the person who took Ryan's body is the same person doing these copycat killings. They had to’ve had help from inside the prison… probably the same person who was getting all his memorabilia and… fluids, out of the prison.

Yesterday, before they found the empty grave, Derek interviewed a guard at the prison, Guard Rutledge. Weird guy. Sketchy, Derek called him.

So, what are the odds that when Garcia— the ever-incredible computer genius who leaves no stone unturned— searches the web for Angel Maker memorabilia, the most common seller is a man by the name of Sid Rutledge? Slim pickings, but of course, our girl Garcia figured him out.

Morgan is tasked with repaying Rutledge another visit, this time, at his house. He takes Y/N along with him for backup and the two of them make it to his house just after nightfall.

They knock on his door, making their presence known, “Sid!! FBI Open up… come on, man, I just want to talk.”

She peers through his windows, there’s no movement in the main room and all his lights are still on. “I’m not seeing anything?”

Derek twists the doorknob, testing if he can get in before he breaks a door down (he’s good at that) and the door pushes wide open.

“That’s weird,” Y/N remarks. “Guys got two deadbolts and doesn’t bother to lock either?”

“Sid?” Derek calls out once more, unholstering his weapon and raising it. “Sid, we’re coming in.”

Y/N follows his lead, holding her weapon, her finger on the safety, she doubts she’ll have to use it but just in case… they search around his main living room, clear the kitchen and then head off towards the bedroom, down the hall. From the doorway Derek can see the man’s feet, he’s laying in bed.

“Wakey-wakey, my man,” he shouts as he pops into the room and finds something they didn’t expect.

Rutledge, laying in his bed with his pants off, in just his shirt and boxers, dead. Shot in the head and in the groin.

“That’s personal,” Derek says under his breath.

They put their guns away, Y/N pulls rubber gloves out of her back pocket and starts to put them on. In her other back pocket, a wad of evidence bags.

“Well yeah, he was selling the unsub memorabilia… Rutledge knew his face.”

“Now the unsub’s covering his tracks,” Derek says with a sigh. Putting his own gloves on before taking out his cell phone. “Hey, Hotch… we’re gonna need crime scene and the coroner at Rutledge's place… yeah. Shot twice, I’d say he’s been dead for at least an hour, maybe two. Yeah. See you back at the precinct soon. Bye.”

“You think he contacted the unsub after you visited him at the prison? Maybe he wanted them to get their stories straight?”

“That or he threatened him… he might’ve wanted the glory of catching a killer?” Derek proposes.

She looks around his room for a moment, nothing sticks out, so she heads to the bathroom. “God, it stinks in here… muggy and thick, too much old spice.”

“Really? He strikes me as an aqua velva kinda guy,” Derek teases.

In the bathroom, what does she find on the first shelf? That exact cologne. “you're good!”

“I’ve been at this longer than you, kid,” he teases. “Anything good in there?”

On the counter, there’s a bottle of pills. She suspects antidepressants or even allergy meds, nope. She reads the bottle and laughs, “No shit… Viagra.”

She makes her way back out into the room and holds the bottle up, “I think we’ve got this unsub all wrong.”

“Why?”

“He was taking Viagra. You only leave the door open and take this when you’re expecting someone. There doesn’t look to be a struggle in here either, his pants came off willingly… either Sid’s gay or our unsub is a woman.”

They bring their findings back to the police station, most of the crew has gone home for the night and the minimal, small-town, night shift has clocked on. Y/N and Derek walk in on JJ and Reid sitting together at the table, Hotch pouring himself more coffee and Dave on the phone in the back room.

“we’ve got news,” Derek announces.

“He was taking Viagra,” Y/N places the evidence bag on the table. “I sent the crime scene photos we took to the computer, you’ll see on there that there wasn’t a struggle. He was shot in the head and in the junk… he was expecting the unsub for sex.”

“I knew it!” Reid lets out a cheer, almost too loud for their little bubble. “When you were gone I was suggesting that. There’s an abnormally high amount of female fans of serial killers, the way they love these killers is fascinating, there are endless lengths that these women will go to, to feel closer to the killers. Buying his sperm, continuing his killings… to a psychopath, in her mind, doing those things would bring her closer to him. A woman in love, no matter how her brain works, would do anything for the man she loves.”

Y/N just looks at reid with wide eyes, feeling called out in a sense. Of course, he’d come to that conclusion after their talk and what he’s seen. She just hopes Aaron doesn’t realize it too. She’s not ready to lose a friend because of her stupid crush on him.

—

On their 3rd day in Ohio, they finally give the profile. They fill the cops in on their theory and in doing so, they calm the nerves of the town thinking a ghost is on the loose, killing these women. It takes up an hour of their morning, they answer every question available and then start narrowing down suspects.

JJ gets a list of women who visited Ryan in prison before he was put to death and Reid goes back through his fan mail to ascertain a pattern that would lead them to the unsub. Alongside that list of women who visited Ryan, they also found out that Sid Rutledge worked at a woman’s prison. He had a history of smuggling things in and out for sexual favours. Ie. they found the reason why he was shot in the dick.

They have two main suspect pools, insane fans and wronged women. Finding the cross over… that would be where the unsub is.

Y/N and Rossi are sent out on the road, their job is to interview the woman who visited Rutledge and wrote him. Most of them were crazy, basically harmless and not worth the time. Their last interview of the day, however, she— she was different.

Shara Carlino, she visited the angel maker 70 times and even bought herself a home overlooking the prison. She’s quite beautiful, you’d never know she’s fucked in the head… within those 70 visits, she was subject to their rigorous strip searches and 3-hour wait times just to see him for 10 minutes.

“That’s Two hundred and 10 hours of waiting and just 11 hours of face-to-face time with the love of her life?” Y/N does the quick math in her head and then shakes it.

“Would you endure that for a man?” Rossi teases.

“No… I’m more into catching the killers than fucking them.”

“Amen, sister,” Rossi jokes, knocking on Shara’s door.

“Hello?” She answers, just as pretty as her photo. Red hair, pleasant smile. She’s dressed up like she’s ready to go out… “can I help you?”

They hold their badges up, “Hi, yes, we’re with the FBI we’re looking into the recent copycat murders and we’d like to speak to you about Cortland Ryan.”

She invites them in, and offers them tea or coffee but neither of them takes a cup. They sit down at her kitchen table and Y/N opens a file. “According to the logs, you were the angel maker's number one fan?”

“His name was Cortland and I wasn’t a fan,” she spits back. Sensitive as ever.

“How would you categorize your relationship?” Y/N asks.

“We were lovers.”

“Last time I checked, they didn’t allow conjugal visits on death row?” Rossi makes a joke out of her comment.

“It wasn’t about physical interaction. When you take away the flesh, all that’s left is the soul,” she says with a mystical expression. Truly believing the words that leave her mouth. “Everything was understood between us. We had no secrets. Cortland made me feel alive in a way no free man ever could.”

Gross, she thinks… but pushes it away to ask her most pressing question: “Where were you on the 16th of this month?”

“Why?”

“We have reason to believe that this copycat killing was done by one of his female fans,” Rossi explains. “Someone who knew Cortland very well.”

“I was out of town with the company I work for, ask anyone there,” she states her alibi and stands by it, visibly hurt by the fact anyone else could be close to Ryan.

“Do you know another woman—

“there were no others,” she cuts Rossi off. Sure of herself.

“I can show you logs and fan mail,” Y/N starts sifting through her evidence folder. “I have photocopies of the letters, women who sent Cortland their photos and even their panties…”

“They didn’t mean anything to him.”

“But… whatever connection you had with Cortland died with him,” Y/N looks at her through her lashes, faking sympathy and driving the wedge in deeper. “Not the copycats. She believes that every time she kills for him, every time she repeats his ritual, their connection gets stronger and will keep getting stronger until she completes his mission.”

“That is of course, unless you help us stop her,” Rossi adds.

That breaks her. she’s visibly distraught by the thought that someone is closer to him than she was. They see it in her eyes that the psychopathic logic makes sense to her… “there was something… he sent me a letter a few months before his— his passing. I knew it wasn’t meant for me. It was addressed to “my dove.” He never called me that.”

“Do you have the letter?” Y/N asks, so close to the finish line she could taste it.

“No. I burned it.”

“Did the text reveal anything about the woman?” Rossi asks.

“The text was a joke,” she spits back. “Usually his prose was beautiful, seamless.. as if he didn’t even have to try. But this— this letter was pedestrian. Crude.”

“You never asked him who this Dove was?” Y/N pries further.

She shakes her head, staying quiet in her hurt.

“I thought there were no secrets between you?”

She laughs, looking Y/N up and down, “You’ve never been in love, have you.”

Y/N smirks, wanting to laugh at the assumption because oh, if she only knew…

Back in the car, she scribbles down some thoughts as Rossi drives. It’s quiet, the radio is on volume 4 and they barely hear it over the sound of their tires bumping down the old, crumbling paved road of this small town. She shakes her head, thinking to herself, how was it that Reid, someone who’s never had a deeply romantic love in his life could guess her feelings so fast and this woman, this deeply troubled yet deeply in love woman couldn’t see it.

She would go to the ends of the earth for Aaron. She’d kill for him if she had to. She wanted to cradle his head and kiss his hair, she wanted to make him lunches for work and dinner when they got home. She would have his babies for crying out—

“oh my god,” she speaks into the silence of their car. “Why else would she buy the sperm if not to just plant it at the scenes?”

“Cause she’s insane?” Rossi laughs.

“She wants his babies!” She makes herself more clear. “She wanted to make a mini Cortland… holy shit.”

She picks up her phone and calls Garcia, “Hey, weird question but are you able to access all obstetrics and gynecology records in this country, by any chance?”

“I can, why?” She asks.

“I think the unsub might’ve tried to get pregnant with the unsubs sperm… she might’ve had checkups, gone to the hospital because of a loss or even had the baby and it died, can you run all the records and cross it with women who visited Cortland and or went to the prison that Rutledge worked at?”

“I sure can try,” Penelope assures. “I’ll call you when I know more.”

—

On the morning of their 4th day, they have another victim. Same bludgeoned skull, same rape, same torso wounds. The house is just like the others too. No sign of forced entry and every single window in the joint was opened too.

Y/N, Hotch and Derek head to the crime scene, Reid, Rossi and JJ stay behind to look through the fan mail a 3rd time with their eyes open for “dove.”

Once the coroner is done with the body, they head back to see her for themselves. With her gloves on, Y/N moves the woman's shirt up to see her torso marks. She was the only one to see the first victim when they arrived, she knew of the findings and how there was paper in the wounds… she takes out her notepad and starts to draw out the marks, ripping off the page to then hold it over her.

“Aaron,” she calls him back over. “Look, Ryan knew what he was doing, he had it all memorized when he made his marks, this unsub needs a stencil, that’s why they found paper in the wounds of the first vic… and I think I know what they’re trying to make out.”

She takes out her phone again, calls Reid and puts him on speaker, “hey, whatcha got?” He answers.

“I think the unsubs were marking out constellations on the victim's stomach… but I don’t think it’s the zodiac?”

“I just found a secret code inside all the letters to Dove that I’m trying to crack… you know, there is a dove constellation, it’s part of the heavenly waters?”

“Reid,” Hotch makes his presence known. “Can you have JJ pull the images of every single victim, this case and the original, and match them to the constellations in that family?”

“I sure can… you know, it also makes sense why all the windows are open at the crime scenes now, he wanted their souls to escape back to heaven, he was quite literally making angels,” Reid explains.

“Sick… well, we’ll be back at the precinct in 30, nice work,” Y/N smiles as she hangs up.

—

When they arrive, JJ has all the torso pictures on the board with printed-off photos of the constellations. “There are 9 main constellations,” she explains once they’re close enough. “Ryan did 6 and our unsub has done two more, the only one she hasn’t done is the dove… either we’ll have a new body tonight or she’s going to do it to herself.”

“So she knew about the real meaning of the stomach marks but we didn’t?” Derek can’t believe it.

“They were a lot closer than we realized,” Rossi adds.

“More than that,” Reid pipes up, scribbling on his own whiteboard. “They were in love.”

“You cracked it already?” Y/N can’t believe it. It’s been not even an hour since their phone call.

He nods, “I profiled the author, Cortland Ryan. He was on death row with several high-ranking members of the Aryan brotherhood… either they taught it to him or he read a lot of 16th-century literature. The Aryans like to use a cypher based on a 400-year-old code written by Sir Francis Bacon…”

“So it’s a binary code,” Derek says with a sigh, always amazed at how Spencer’s mind works.

“Bacon used a 21-letter alphabet, this one is 24. Each letter is assigned a string of 5 binary digits. This combination yields 32 possible encodings. Normally, you’d use a computer to run all these combinations but it was quicker just to do it long-hand until I found the right one.”

Y/N wraps her arms around him and holds him close, “Oh, I love your brain, you beautiful genius, you!”

He blushes, and wiggles out of her grip, making his way to the table with all the letters. “Thanks… now, we don’t have a complete record of their correspondence, but I was able to make a chronology. The woman he calls “Dove” established contact right after the trial.

They all read through the letters, disgusted by what these two people called love. “Ew, okay here she said ‘Take heart, my love. I will bring a part of you back into this world… you will watch over us from the stars.’ Us. she was definitely pregnant when she wrote that.”

“Agent Hotchner!” The sheriff comes running to the room. “We just got reports of a woman attacked in her home by a female assailant.”

“Y/N, we’ll head to the scene, you 4, call Penelope, and tell her to make it her priority to cross-reference birth records with the women on our lists!” He calls as they all head towards the door. “I don’t care if you have to physically head to the local hospital and read through records and interview staff, I want a name!”

She follows Aaron out of the station and he searches his pockets for his keys, “you can drive, right?” She asks.

He nods, “I haven’t had any medicine at all today. I’m feeling better…”

“Okay, good,” she gets into the passenger seat beside him.

They buckle up their seatbelts and Aaron places his hand on her headrest, looking behind them, “Hold on.” He backs up and spins the SUV around, following the sheriff to the scene in his police cruiser.

Reckless driving shouldn’t be so hot… but she swoons anyway.

When they get to the scene of the crime, it’s so totally different from what they’ve seen 2 times before. The assailant pretended to break down and walked up to the victim in her driveway, asked to call a towing service and they tried to attack the victim. She screamed for help so loud the rest of the neighbourhood heard it, left their homes and beat the assailant into submission, subduing her until police could come make an arrest.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N can’t believe who she sees in the back seat of the police cruiser… “That’s Shara. Shara Carlino. Rossi and I interviewed her the other day. Her alibi is solid.” She walks over to the cruiser and opens the door, Hotch in tow behind her. “What the hell, Shara?”

“It worked for her, why couldn’t it work for me!” She cries, bloody and bruised.

Y/N just shakes her head, “Because he’s dead. He’s a psychopath who never fucking loved you, he never could. You ruined your life for him, and for what? You don’t even look that good in orange.” She slams the door closed and scoffs. “And she accused me of never having been in love before.”

“Have you?” Aaron asks.

She wasn’t expecting that, she stands a little taller and shrugs, “I mean… yeah? Once or twice.”

“Third times the charm,” he teases, patting her shoulder and then walking back towards the SUV. They weren’t needed here.

—

They’re all sitting at the table when Penelope calls again.

“So there were 463 children born in Lower Cannon between 2006 and 2008,” Garcia recounts over the phone. “If you want me to find baby angel maker, I’m gonna have to narrow this down.”

“I have a letter here, there’s a quote from Cortland that says, ‘I knew even before you told me that the future had taken root,’” Y/N reads. “That must mean she did get pregnant… that letter was written January 7th, 2007.”

“Cool so fast forward 9 months—

“Ten, actually,” JJ corrects her. “There are 40 weeks of pregnancy, so it’s actually closer to 10 months.”

“Seriously?” Penelope had no idea.

“it was news to me too,” JJ rolls her eyes. “I’m going to be pregnant almost all year.”

“Damn, well, with that new math… I’m looking at August to September 2007… single mothers only, cause you know, you don’t want to brag— oh your baby daddies a 3rd-grade teacher? Mine likes to poke people in the tummy with tools… I have 9 names.”

They all laugh at Penelope's strange sense of humour. “Cross-reference them with women from the female Prison Rutledge was at,” Derek suggests.

“Chloe Kelcher,” Penelope announces.

“Wait,” Reid stands up and starts looking through his papers. He pulls a file from a box and places a piece of paper on the table. “She was on the jury…”

“She was exposed to the case evidence,” Derek adds. “That’s how she knew about the stomach wounds.”

“She fell in love with him sitting across from him in the courtroom,” Hotch says with a shake of his head. “She heard everything, she saw what he was capable of, and she wanted him anyway.”

“What happened to the baby, Garcia?” Y/N asks.

“He died at the hospital—

“Microvesicular Steatosis,” Reid finishes. “Microvesicular steatosis is characterized by small intracytoplasmic fat vacuoles— liposomes— which accumulate within hepatocytes. Most common causes are tetracyclines- or acute fatty liver of pregnancy, Reye's syndrome, and hepatitis C.”

“Okay… so the only way to stay close to him after the death of both him and her baby, was to keep killing. Two questions, how did she pick her victims and how do we figure out the last one before it’s too late?” Hotch asks.

“Look at the type of women she was killing, as opposed to Ryan going after women who sexually excited him, she needed a way to get close to them. Delilah made jewelry and sold it from her home, Maxine ran a daycare out of her house. This would give Chloe an opportunity to make an appointment with them and gain access to their homes… and then she could go to the bathroom, crack a window and hope it was still open when she returned in the middle of the night,” Y/N proposes.

“Okay, let’s get suited up, Garcia, send us her address and search her internet history, see if she’s booked a time to meet with anyone today,” Hotch orders and then hangs up the phone.

At her house, she’s nowhere to be found. What they do find, however, is a kid's bedroom covered in glow-in-the-dark stars and the decomposing body of Cortland Ryan in a treasure box near what would’ve been her baby crib. It’s disgusting… they call the coroner to pick him up and keep searching the house.

The Sheriff finds her Filofax filled with dates off appointments and people she knows… she had visits with both Delilah and Maxine the day before their murders, but no tools. No Rape kit, either.

“She had an appointment this morning,” Dave announces, reading the book back. “Faye Landreaux, 126 North Red—

“Red River Drive,” The Sheriff finishes the address off. “She’s a CPA, she does my taxes.”

“Does she work out of her house?” Aaron asks.

“Yep.”

“Let’s go.”

—

At the scene, they find Chloe’s car parked on the road. The windows are closed, that’s a good sign that nothing has happened yet… but they need a plan. They need a way to make sure this ends without another death.

It was Y/N’s job to draw the suspect's attention away from her next victim, speaking to her through a bullhorn while Derek snuck into the house and got the victim to safety. She makes Aaron stand away from the bullhorn, his good ear closest to her so that she doesn’t ruin his hearing further as she talks the suspect away from the bedroom.

She taunts her, reading letters Cortland wrote to other women, making her question the love they had for one another. “He wasn’t capable of loving you. He was a narcissist, Chloe. He was lying to you. He wrote countless women the same words.”

Reid quickly recalls the letters from memory, rushing the words down on paper and holding them up to her.

“Possessions matter not to a condemned man but I cannot leave this world without seeing your face one last time,” Y/N reads over the bullhorn. “It isn’t your fault that he made you feel these things, trust me. It isn’t your fault your baby died.

Just then, Derek returns with the victim. While what Y/N was saying made her upset, losing a victim just made her furious.

It was her last chance to complete the love of her life mission and be joined together forever in the afterlife… another crazy conclusion made in the mind of a psychopath.

“It’s over Chloe, we have Faye,” she says through the bullhorn. They hear her destroying things inside, so she adds. “You have nowhere to go.”

“I think we have some teargas ready to go,” the sheriff adds.

“We’re not going to need it, she doesn’t have any place to go,” Aaron assures him.

“Maybe she’ll do us all a favour and put herself down?” He suggests.

“No, she won’t do that either. She’s not done,” Aaron knows her too well.

After a few moments of silence, Chloe starts to come out of the house. Everyone draws their weapons and points them at her as she wields a small revolver. Rossi asks her to put it down but she doesn’t back away.

“Go stand back there,” Y/N suggests to Aaron, motioning behind the car with her head while she keeps her gun locked on Chloe. “If we shoot you’re going to be in pain again, go. Now, Aaron.”

Surprisingly, he listens. He makes his way away from them just in time for Chloe to raise her weapon and the sheriff pulls the trigger, knocking her to the ground. He and Y/N rush to Chloe, taking her weapon from her before they check on her… she’s gone. This is what she wanted. It’s then that Y/N notices what she’s done. Made herself the last victim, completing what the angel maker set out to do a decade ago.

She really was his dove.

When she looks back, Aaron is holding his head and leaning forward, even at a distance it still made his ear ring. She walks over to him and holsters her gun, “you okay?”

“I’m good, I’m good… thank you for making me move,” he says in a hushed tone.

“You’re welcome,” she says but she doesn’t feel good about it. He’s still hurting. He was going to keep hurting until he was fully healed.

—

They spend the night in a hotel, partnered off to save money when they know the price of keeping the jet in a hangar for another night is already ridiculous.

Rossi pays for his own room on nights like this, leaving 1 person lucky enough to also have their own room… so they give it to JJ. Now that she’s pregnant she deserves something nice.

Derek is with Reid, leaving Y/N with Hotch. The way she wanted it.

They change separately in the bathroom, he goes first and then they switch. By the time she’s done and coming back out, Aaron is sitting in his bed, reading through a case file.

She puts her bag down by her bed and takes a chance. She sits on the edge of Aaron's bed and he looks at her softly, smiles even, “Thank you for being hard on me this week.”

“I was just about to apologize,” she admits. “I don’t like raising my voice at you, but someone has to take care of you.”

“You were right, though… I wasn’t fully cleared, I lied and said I’d stick to light duty but I threw myself into this case thinking it would be fine.”

“I know,” she sympathizes with him. “You’re going through a lot. Your job is really all you have left and when you can’t go to work, what else are you going to do?”

“Go crazy,” he laughs. “I’m not going to fly home tomorrow. I’m going to drive back.”

“That’s a long drive, like 7 hours back to Quantico?” She worries. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no… not unless you want to?” He looks at her with puppy dog eyes. He’d never ask, but he’d let her if it was her idea.

“We can make it a whole thing, I mean tomorrow is Friday, we have the weekend off, we don’t need to be back in Virginia till Monday,” she suggests. “We could have some fun?”

“That sounds nice,” he agrees. “Would it… would it be weird to hug you?”

“Not at all,” she doesn’t mind in the slightest, she simply moves in closer and opens her arms.

She holds him there, resting her chin on his shoulder, she closes her eyes and makes it last. He’s so warm, his strong arms feel so comforting and he smells good, too. It’s perfect. She didn’t realize how badly she craved his touch until he was pulling away and it felt like it was over too soon.

“Any time you need a hug, let me know,” she offers. Leaving it at that.

—

They take the long way home.

It only takes an hour for them to get out of Ohio, they make it to West Virginia around lunchtime and pick a random small town to go get some food. The diner they pick is so cute, old-time-y and pink, the waitresses are on rollerblades, it feels like they’ve been sent back in time.

They go further back in time, however, when they decide to stop at the little antique shop just down the road.

Most of the stuff is junk… that’s to be expected. But there’s a box near the counter, “photos ¢25 each” and they’re almost all in black and white, some sepia and faded, but all old. That’s for sure.

She digs through the pile while Aaron looks around at a few things and she finds a few that just break her heart. A 30’s bride, smiling wide with the biggest bouquet of flowers she’s ever seen, just excited to marry the love of her life… and a couple sitting on the porch of their first house, he has his arm around her and she’s got her hands on her pregnant belly. they’re starting a life together. There are school photos and family pictures, all worn with time and left to collect dust in someone else’s shop.

The saying is “A picture is worth a thousand words” but each photo here is worth a thousand years. Most of the people in these photos are dead now, their love only exists here, in this shop, in her hands. These people who fell in love and lived to the best of their abilities and died surrounded by family, they had no idea where these photos would end up… so she buys a bunch of them, to keep their memories alive longer.

One of them she buys not just for that reason… but because the couple in the photo looks a little bit like her and Aaron. Part of her thinks that she was always meant to find these, Aaron was meant to get hurt, they were meant to go on this drive and her photos were supposed to come back to her. Her whole heart is so sure that she’s loved Aaron before, that she’ll love him again too, she’ll love him in every lifetime until the world dies too.

She keeps the photos that she wants to buy in her hands as she makes her way around the store. Aaron’s in the back, looking through stacks of old newspapers and letters. He looks up at her and smiles, “look at this,” he hands her a handful of letters. “These are from 1944, a couple sent them back and forth to each other during the war… look how in love they were.”

She reads through the letter with tears in her eyes. Stories of this couple's missed anniversary, their oldest child was starting to learn how to play baseball, their youngest had just started to walk… she ends every letter the same. “I pray to god every night you make it home to me, I know he’s working on it for us.”

She holds her hand over her heart and tries so hard not to let out the sob, “Oh my god?”

“I know,” he smiles, glossy-eyed and blushing. “What did you find?”

“Photos,” she hands them to him. “Doesn’t this guy look like you?”

“Oh, wow…” he honestly can’t believe it. He runs his pointer finger over the woman who looks like her and his shoulders drop. “I guess we’ve been here before.”

“I think we have,” she agrees. “How weird is it that out of all the places we could’ve gone, out of everything that could’ve ever happened, you got hurt just in time for us to have to drive through West Virginia?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know… you know my mother's family used to live here in 1745, they were coal miners.”

“So you might actually be related to this guy?” She holds the picture up again.

He nods, “that or I’m a vampire,” he jokes. “I’ve been living here for hundreds of years.”

She shoves him, “You’re so funny.”

They wander around some more, Aaron finds a painting he likes and she picks up a cute set of dishware and when they go up to pay, the owner smiles at them. “Together or separate?”

“Together,” Aaron answers over Y/N saying “separate.”

“You don’t have to,” she worries but he takes the plates and her photos from her hands and puts them on the counter.

“I want to,” he assures her with a smug smile.

“First date?” The lady asks, so sure she’s got it right.

They shake their heads, “Co-workers, we had some business to attend in Ohio and thought we’d take the long way home…”

“Oh,” she smiles to herself, knowing there’s something else there… she can feel it. “Well, I’m glad you stopped here, these things were in need of a nice home to go back to.”

“Aaron here has a new apartment that is very boring,” Y/N teases. “This painting will be perfect for the wall in his kitchen.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Aaron muses.

She gives them a total, Aaron pays in cash and she wishes them well on their journey home. “I hope to see you back here one day.”

“Us too,” Y/N answers, giving her a smile and a wave.

—

They keep driving east, thinking they could probably make it back to D.C. around 3 in the morning if they didn’t stop. Instead, they pick out a cute little bed & breakfast with the hopes of staying there for the night.

The little bell on the door rings as Aaron holds it open for her, there’s a little old lady sitting behind the counter crocheting, she looks up when she hears the noise. “Oh, hold on, my daughter just ran to the back to get more receipt paper, she’ll check you in in a moment.” She has a posh English accent and a sweet smile.

“Thank you,” Aaron gives her a smile back.

They don’t have to wait long, a middle-aged woman comes out from the back room and stops dead in her tracks when she sees there are people. “Oh, I’m sorry to keep you waiting, did you have a reservation?”

“No, we’re just driving though and wondered if you have a couple rooms we could book?” Aaron asks.

She clicks her tongue off the roof of her mouth, “Uh… oh, no, we only have 1 room left—

“Does it happen to have two beds?” Y/N cuts her off, scared to have to share.

“No, I’m sorry, we have just the one queen left,” she explains. “I can call the inn 30 miles down the way and see if they have two rooms left?”

“No, no it’s okay,” Y/N brushes it off, “I don’t mind sharing…”

“As long as you’re okay with it,” Aaron agrees.

“We’ll take it,” Y/N decides, giving the lady a soft smile.

As the woman starts to write up their receipt and mark her books that the room is taken, Y/N asks about breakfast. “What time is breakfast tomorrow?”

“We can bring it to your room between 7 and 11,” the elderly lady explains, going into detail about the meal options they have.

“You’re in room 6,” she explains, “it’s going to be $173 for the one night and the breakfast in the morning…”

Y/N beats him to the punch this time, taking her credit card out and setting it on the table, “you bought everything earlier, it’s my turn.”

“Fine,” Aaron lets her do it. “But I’m getting lunch or dinner tomorrow.”

“You can try,” she teases, punching in her information and running her card through the machine.

“And I just need you to both sign the guest book,” the keeper explains, pushing the book toward them. “You know, in case you go missing and the police need to recount your steps,” she says with a laugh. Thinking it could never happen.

“We are the police,” Y/N teases.

“FBI actually,” Aaron adds. “It’s a good thing you keep these, I can’t tell you how many times we’ve reached a dead end because people don’t update their books.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” the woman stands a bit taller, feeling proud of her little business.

They get their key after that, they head back to the car to get their bags and head to their room… they’re quiet at first. She heads into the bathroom to change and hype herself up for what’s about to happen. She has to share a bed with the love of her life knowing he doesn’t feel the same about her. She doesn’t know if he’s going to make a pillow wall between them or sleep with his own blanket so they don’t have to touch. She’s so nervous she doesn’t know what to do.

She slips into her work pyjamas, just a simple pair of shorts and an old college t-shirt, she brushes her teeth and adds a bit more deodorant because the last thing she wants is for him to not like her AND think she smells.

She’s honestly just a ball of anxiety.

When she comes out, he’s already changed. In his boxers and a white shirt, sitting on top of the covers with his phone pressed to his good ear. It’s barely 8pm, she can tell by the smile on his face that he called Jack.

“I love you too, buddy, have a good sleep,” he says with a whispered tone. “Bye.”

She puts her bag down by the night table on what will be her side of the bed tonight. “How is he?”

“He’s good… He’s starting school next week. I can’t believe how big he’s getting,” he explains, shaking his head. He hates that he’s missing it too.

She takes a seat on the bed, facing him, her one leg curled under the other, “are you going to drop him off?”

He nods, “I’m going to try my best to be there that first morning, I want to get some pictures of him walking in and wearing his big backpack.”

“That’s going to be so cute,” she swoons. “Oh, I wish I could see it.”

“Come with me?” He asks, “I can pick you up on the way to work, you’re close to his new school anyway.”

“That wouldn’t be weird?”

He shakes his head, “No… I mean, Haley might even have her new boyfriend there.”

“You’re kidding?”

He shrugs, “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Her heart breaks for him. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I mean, it happens. Not many kids who meet in high school stay married for life,” he rationalizes it. “And the ones who do aren’t happy about it.”

“Still, I hate knowing she hurt you,” Y/N sympathizes. “You’re a good man. You shouldn’t have to choose between your job and your family. She knew this was your job when she got pregnant. I don’t know what she was expecting.”

“Me either,” he sighs, he puts his phone on the night table and leans back against the pillows. “Can I have some more medicine now?”

She laughs, he sounds like a kid when he asks. “Yeah, let me get it.”

She grabs a complimentary bottle of water off the dresser and gets his pills from her purse, she hands him two and watches him take them. “You know why I stepped in, right?”

He nods, taking both his pills before he speaks again. “I appreciate it, too. I wasn’t using them as instructed, it could’ve gotten bad.”

“We almost lost Spencer and no one stepped in,” she whispers, ashamed that they all knew and did nothing. “I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

He puts the bottle of water back down on his night table he takes her hand and pulls her closer and wraps her up in a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I appreciate you more than you know.”

She hugs him back, her second hug in 2 days. She closes her eyes and bathes in his strength, “you’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine,” he assures her. “Come get in bed?” He asks as she pulls back.

“Okay,” she nods, walking around to her side, he scoots under the covers and she pulls the covers down to get in herself. The lights are still on, but they lay on their sides and face each other, “this isn’t weird?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think so… do you?”

“If I cuddle you in the middle of the night I’m sorry,” she says, feeling a bashful wave fills her cheeks with heat.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to cuddle into… If anything, I just do it due to muscle memory,” he admits. “I’ll move away if—

“No, no you don’t have to,” she cuts him off. “Honestly, I might be nice?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling softly.

He’s smiled so much today that it makes her heart so happy.

She nervously moves in closer to him, he lays back against the pillow and she cuddles into his side. He rests his arm on her back, she keeps her hand on his stomach and he holds it with his free hand. “I’ve had a lot of fun today.”

“Me too,” she swoons. She settles against him, she expected him to be hard… he looks so big and strong she didn’t expect him to be so soft and cuddly.

She could get used to this. However, this is not her life. Playing pretend is fun for a while but sooner or later she’s going to have to wake up and face the consequences. He doesn’t love her back, he simply misses having a wife.

She can play that role. She’s just not ready for the director to yell cut.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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beelmons · 1 year

Text

But who is he to you? (Aaron Hotchner)

Aaron, the hot neighbor that seemed to rarely be home whenever you arrived from work. Quiet, cordial, and kind, the guy nextdoor that everyone wanted, because he would never make a fuss or a mess, just a perfect example of a man.

Aaron, whom you officially met on his only day off the entire month during a city-wide black out, on your almost adjoining balconies trying to freshen yourselves on a warm summer night. Whom you spent the entire night talking to until the power came back up, which you later learned happened just before dawn.

Aaron, the man you learned was recently divorced, battling the sorrows that came with such event. Whom you did your best to cheer up and care for, whose smile you craved to see on your darkest days. Whom you had accidentally fallen in love with and knew such feeling was bound to be unrequited.

Aaron, who after losing his wife carried nothing but grief and anguish on his shoulders. Whose light had turned so dim it was barely visible, whose willigness to cling to life was more a duty than a desire.

Aaron, who reached for your hand in times of torment, who you took into your arms as you suffered your own sort of heartbreak, whose heart, unbenknown to you, you dilligently nursed back to health.

Aaron, who couldn't help but fall in love with your caring soul.

Aaron, who was mortified with the idea of losing someone else. Who knew his job and happiness were an incompatible match. Who judged the best idea was to break your heart, to push you away from the menace that being by his side was.

Aaron, who on a warm summer night broke your heart, with a lie, once he told you nothing could ever happen between the two of you because your feelings were not reciprocated beyond a loving friendhsip.

Aaron, who realized his mistake maybe too late in life, as he watched you walk down the aisle in the direction of a man that should have been him. Who fell victim of the fallacy of protection and safety. Who, as you said 'I do' to Derek Morgan, could only think about how the last time he felt safe was on that warm summer night, on a lousy balcony with stars shining thanks to the lack of light, while he talked to the neighbor he was always intrigued by.

Aaron, who for a second time lost the woman he loved the most.

#aaron hotchner #blurb: hotchner #blurb: angst #blurb: mine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds blurb #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #wrote this on a whim cause im ignoring work :D

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hotchs-bitch · 1 year

Text

4 AM

Credits: prompt idea from @foxy-eva Criminal Minds Writing Challenge! Hurt/Comfort prompt: Nowhere else to go: Person A didn't know where else to go in a time of need, so they ring B's doorbell. Betaing credits to @doctorstethoscope and @greg-montgomery- I would never post anything if you guys didn't tell me to <3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner (post-slash?), Aaron Hotchner & blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n) (platonic-ish)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Unrequited love, discussions of divorce and parenting, Hotch's take on Haley leaving him, big sexy man cries a little, mentions of cases, angsty

A/N: I'm back with a song fic about Hotch's marriage crumbling, because apparently that's the only thing that can drag me out of my burnout era. Inspo song is 4 AM by Cate, and I highly recommend giving it a listen!!

Yes, this is angstier than I meant for it to be. Yes, I'm already working on a part 2 :)

Find it on ao3 here, or under the cut. Happy reading <3

Next part | Series masterlist | My masterlist

Why don’t you come over?

It’s only friendship we’ll risk

You can cry on my shoulder

If it’s her that you miss

Are you thinking of me

In a new light?

‘Cause if not wе could pretend for the night, for thе night

“Why don’t you come over for a little bit tonight?”

“It… it doesn’t even matter–”

“How long is your drive?”

Aaron’s sigh into the phone receiver is audible. You can almost picture him right now, his face screwed up in frustration and two fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’m… not far. I’m at a motel twenty minutes from Quantico. She offered to stay at Jessica’s house, but… I don’t want Jack to know what’s going on.”

This certainly wasn’t the conversation you were expecting to have when you phoned your boss in the evening, intending to apologize for the late hour and let him know that you would be sending a file to him that would need to be reviewed first thing in the morning. You were expecting a brief, rushed call. You weren’t expecting him to pocket-answer the phone so that you had an accidental front-row seat to the sound of your boss checking into a motel room for one guest.

When he finally heard your voice calling out, “Aaron!” from his pocket and realized what was going on, he had bashfully explained; another fight with Haley, a bad one. You know that they’re all bad these days, but his admittance meant that it was worse than usual. It had ended with both of them packing bags, insisting that the other stay at their house, and Hotch driving off before she could.

You can’t pretend that you aren’t a little surprised that he shared all of this without much prompting. But now, you just want to see him and know that he’s okay. You just want to make this better… but how can you do that?

Maybe it’s not your place to get involved at all. You would be the first to admit that, sure, you have a minor crush on your very married colleague, and maybe that means that you should be staying away from his marital problems with a twenty-foot pole. But if he needs help, you’re certainly going to offer it.

“I don’t want to say it, but… do you really think Jack doesn’t know? You two have been having a lot of problems, and he’s a smart kid.”

“I know. I know. But it’s not… we can work it out. We can figure something out. There’s no need to stress him out or make him think that we’re going to get a divorce. I don’t want him put through all of that, for something that won’t happen.” The pain in Aaron’s voice is as audible as his words, and the sheer emotion behind it… it just breaks your heart.

It’s your turn to sigh now, letting your head tip back and rest on the back of your couch. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over? It’s really no trouble, I promise. I’ve got a guest room; you can stay as long as you need.”

Now, there’s a familiar firmness in his tone. It’s that decisive I-know-best voice he uses when he really believes in what he’s saying. “I’m sure. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be home by tomorrow. We’ll work this out. I… appreciate you speaking to me about this. I’m sure it’s not why you called.”

If he could see you, you would wave a hand in the air as if to say, ‘Don’t worry about it’. “Anytime, Aaron. And that offer stands, you hear me?”

This standing offer of yours might be a bad idea. What if he takes you up on it? What if he comes over, seeking your company? Your conflicting feelings for him are easy enough to set aside at work, but if he’s coming over because of his rocky marriage that’s a whole other battlefield you don’t have a clue how to navigate.

Aaron loves his wife. You know that he does. He adores her and their son, right down to his nightly phone calls with them on cases and the picture of the two that he keeps in his go bag. But sometimes, on the occasional event that he relaxes around you, you can’t help wondering if he could ever think of you the same way he thinks of Haley.

He could, you’re sure of that. He’s a red-blooded man, and even though that’s a little cliche of you, you can’t help but wish he would think of you as more than a colleague. You’re a woman who sees him more often than his own wife does, and that’s got to count for something. Does he really just view you as a colleague and friend, or… does he ever view you as something more?

Sometimes, you think maybe he does. During your last case – an abduction in South Dakota – the two of you had been canvassing together down a busy street when a biker rode past. Aaron had noticed in the nick of time, pulling you in towards him and out of the way of harm. He loves his wife more than anything, and you know that he was just keeping you from getting hurt. But for a moment, for just a split second, you had let yourself imagine that it was a gesture of more-than-friends, that he was pulling you in because he wanted to be closer to you.

So maybe this offer is a terrible, awful idea. You can admit that it probably is, but at least he doesn’t seem to be taking you up on it.

“I hear you.” There’s a bit of a smile in his voice now, as though he knows how serious you’re being and he finds it amusing. “Thank you, again. Have a nice night.”

Before you can respond, he hangs up. With a sigh, you set down the phone. It’s starting to get late now; you might as well go to sleep if he’s not coming over.

–

When you wake up, your bedroom is completely dark. Your alarm isn’t ringing on the nightstand, and when you roll over in bed you read the time on the digital clock. 3:46 AM.

So what the hell woke you up?

Your answer comes in the form of a knocking sound, loud enough to get your attention without being an obnoxious pounding sound. The noise is coming from… somewhere, so you get out of bed and slip on a robe over your pajamas to find the source of the noise.

The hunt leads you to your front door, where that steady knocking is coming from the other side. Someone is knocking on your door, at the late hour, and in a haze of grogginess and confusion, you wrench the door open.

“What is- Aaron?”

He’s standing on your step, his hand raised like he’s ready to knock again. His face… god. His face is full of pain, unimaginably pure pain, and he nods at you. “Hi. I’m sorry, I… you were sleeping. I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

His voice breaks a little, and that’s when you reach out. With one hand on his shoulder, you steer him into the house and close the door. “Are you okay? You didn’t… what?”

When you guide Aaron to the couch, he sits down without hesitation. His voice is drenched with despair when he says, “I didn’t… know where else to go. You said that the, er, offer was standing, right?”

“What? Yes, of course, it is. Aaron, what’s going on?” You sink down onto the couch next to him, watching him inhale deeply like he’s trying to ground himself. The tiny part of you that preens when he says that he didn’t know where else to go… well, you try to fight that part back. Right now, the priority is Aaron. The priority is not your ridiculous, unrealistic crush on him. “I thought you were staying at the motel tonight and going home tomorrow.”

“I did, too. Haley texted me a little while ago. She… she told me that she wants to figure out a… custody agreement that recognizes her as Jack’s primary parent. She wants to… work that out before she gets her lawyer involved.” He gives you a sardonic little smile, one that fills you to the brim with empathy as he continues to speak. “Apparently, when she said she would stay at her sister’s house, she meant indefinitely. I can expect to be served the… papers in the next week.”

He says ‘papers’ in a bitter tone, like the very sound of the word puts a bad taste in his mouth. It’s not hard to piece two and two together, and you slowly reach for his hand. He lets you take it, and you give him a moment before you ask the question.

“You and Haley are divorcing?” Compartmentalizing this has to be one of the most strong-willed things you’ve ever done. This isn’t the time for your feelings and emotions to be anywhere near the surface; not when Aaron needs you like this.

At the d-word, he flinches a little like he’s been wounded. He obviously hasn’t come to terms with the idea of it yet, and you wonder how long it’s been since she texted him. “We aren’t divorcing. She’s divorcing me.” His correction is swift, and his voice is brittle; it feels like he’s close to shattering. Seeing him like this – so vulnerable, so broken – is completely alien to you.

“Aaron…” You don’t know what to say, so you squeeze his hand. In lieu of any other words, you ask the stupidest possible question. “How do you feel?”

He laughs a little, at that. It isn’t genuine, but it’s not a cruel laugh either. It’s a little bit cynical, a little disbelieving. “I just found out that my wife is leaving me. It’s 4 AM, and I’m tired, and I can’t go home. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, right now.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. It was dumb of me to ask.” You move a little closer to him, the couch cushions shifting under you until you’re almost pressed against him. “You can talk about it, if you want to. You can tell me everything that’s going through your head.”

Aaron takes another deep breath at that, and his hold on your hand tightens a little. “She isn’t happy. She hasn’t been happy, and we both knew it. I just… I didn’t think this would happen. I know she wants me around more- wanted me around, I suppose. Lately, most of our fights have been about work. Haley wanted me to leave the BAU, the Bureau if it came down to it, and I refused. And I can’t blame her for wanting a normal life, or wanting me to work at a 9 to 5, but… I can’t do that.”

His monologue has shaken every remaining ounce of grogginess out of your system. Aaron so rarely opens up, especially about personal matters. Listening to him talk like this, you could go all night long without a cup of coffee.

Come to think of it, coffee is a really good idea. Standing up, you give him a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m just going to make us some coffee. You look like you need it.”

The open-concept design means that you only move a few feet away to get to the coffeemaker in the kitchen, and you look over at Aaron as you scoop grounds into the basket. “Why can’t you leave the BAU?” Your question is soft, not accusatory.

He hears your tone, the general curiosity, and sighs. “When I was a lawyer, I prosecuted dozens of murder cases. By the time they reached my desk, it always felt like it was too late. And I wanted to, uh… stop them, before they got to my desk. We see a lot of things, you know? Jack… I don’t want him growing up in a world like this, with serial killers around every corner. I want to make the world a safer place for him. I suppose I thought that… I thought that because I’m doing it for my family, that would make it… easier for her to deal with.”

By the time Aaron finishes speaking, you’re handing him a cup of coffee. It’s sweetened with a bit of sugar and some cream; he usually drinks it black, but you know he considers any other kind of coffee to be a treat. If there’s ever been a time for him to deserve a treat, it’s now.

“You’re a good dad,” you tell him as you sink back down onto the couch with a mug of your own. “I know that you and Haley might have different ideas about what parenting should look like, but… you’re doing this because you love him. You want to protect him, and keep him safe and innocent. That doesn’t make you a monster for missing bedtime.”

It’s silent for a long moment; the only sound is both of you sipping your coffees, and then Aaron hums quietly. “I just… I never want him to know what kind of people are out there. He’s a little kid. I’m supposed to be there to tell him that there isn’t a monster under his bed. Instead, I spent his birthday in Mississippi looking for a guy who hunts his victims by actually hiding under their beds. I can’t blame Haley for being upset with me.”

You’re still trying to think of a response to that when he speaks again. His voice softens now, and when you glance over he looks away quickly. It’s not quick enough, and you still make note of the tears in his eyes that he’s obviously trying to hide. “We’ve been together since high school, you know. Graduation, college, law school… all of it.”

“I had no idea,” you murmur. You knew that Aaron and his wife were together for a long time, obviously. But to be together since high school? That’s a hefty chunk of time; it’s more than half as long as he’s been alive. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I… I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“If it helps, neither can I. I don’t… I have no clue how I feel,” he admits, setting down the coffee cup. His gaze is still averted, but you can see the tears shining in his eyes. “Things haven’t been great for a while, and I know that. I’m not an idiot. But she’s always been there by my side, always. And now… she won’t be there, anymore.” His voice breaks a little on the last word, and it just… breaks your heart, all over again.

When you speak, it’s a little more tentative. Between his strict professionalism in the office and the reason for this impromptu 4 AM visit, you’re worried that you might be crossing some sort of line here. He’s got a wife at home; technically, he’s still married. That, and the reason for your offer is more selfish than you care to admit. But you don’t mind that as much as you probably should. After a pause, you say it.

“You can say no, but… do you want a hug?” Even as you ask the question, you start to get to your feet. Maybe to give him easy access, or maybe just so you can busy yourself with the coffee mugs if he says no.

A soft ‘oof’ escapes you when Aaron gets to his feet and hugs you tightly, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask. His arms wrap around your waist while your own come up to reach around him, rubbing his back gently in as reassuring of a manner as you can. Yes, your reason for this hug is selfish… It's selfish to take pride in the fact that you’re the one comforting him, reassuring him, and hopefully making him feel better.

You’re just about to let go – the guilt-ridden confliction of your emotions is almost too much to handle – when you feel and hear a sharp intake of breath against your shoulder, under your hand. It’s paired with the softest, most broken-sounding sob you can imagine. Aaron is trying to hold back that flood of emotion, that heartbreak that seems to surround him like it’s stuck alongside him inside an impenetrable bubble, and you tighten your grip on him a little.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, and you hope that you sound soothing. You hope that you can calm him, help him in some way. “You can let go, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Aaron doesn’t respond. He’s silent against you as his face presses into your shoulder, but his back moves under your hand when he takes in another deep, shuddering breath. It isn’t until he pulls away and lowers his head that you realize that the shoulder of your robe is soaked with tears that you couldn’t feel through the layers of fabric.

His head is still down, and he wipes at his face like he can’t stand to have tears running down it. “I’m sorry,” he says after a long moment, and he turns away altogether while he presumably collects himself.

You allow him this privacy, this pseudo-solitude to wipe his face and straighten his posture and do whatever else he can to recover from his moment of sheer, sheer vulnerability. He’s starting to turn back by the time you say, “Don’t be. You’re hurting, Aaron. I want to be here for you, however I can be. If you want to talk about how much you miss her, and cry on my shoulder…” you shrug one of the aforementioned shoulders, a gesture meant to play off the tension of the moment, “Well, I’ve got two of them, so feel free. Whatever you need, okay? That’s a promise.”

With a little nod, Aaron wipes a hand under both eyes again. “I understand. I really appreciate it… I appreciate you. Just having you here, with me… it’s helped more than you know.”

A tight smile graces your face, and you pat his forearm as you step back. The coffee is starting to wear off, and you can feel the exhaustion down to your bones. It’s on his face too, in his eyes and the way they’re growing heavy with the need to sleep. “Of course. We can talk more in the morning, but I think for now you should try to get some sleep. Okay?”

Aaron straightens up, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes as he tries to suppress a yawn. “I think you’re right. Thank you, again.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” you promise, leading him down the hall towards the guest bedroom right next door to yours. “Just get some rest, and… tomorrow can wait. Everything else can wait, for now.”

“It can wait,” Aaron agrees with a solemn nod, his voice quiet. He thanks you once again before you step away from the door, listening to it shut before you turn off all the lights and return to your own bedroom.

By the time you slip under your blankets, you can hear soft snores floating through the shared wall. It’s still hard to tell if you’ve overstepped, or if you’ve crossed some sort of line tonight. But for now… Aaron might have Haley in his head, but he’s fast asleep in your guest bedroom. You’re going to support him through this next stage of his life. Whatever the next few weeks or months may bring, you’ll be there.

You aren’t going to change his mind on anything. If he wants to contest the divorce, you’ll be there for him. If he wants to do it amicably, you’ll ask how you can help. If he realizes somewhere along the way that you could be the one for him, you certainly won’t argue.

You’ve already waited without hope for years. If he winds up single then maybe, just maybe, he’ll think of you in a new light one day. And if not… maybe you can just pretend he will, for tonight.

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