#Jennifer jareau x female!reader

[spexialvixtimxunit]

A to Z SFW || Jennifer Jareau

HAPPY 450 SPECIAL

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Black!Afab!Female!Reader

Warnings: Will and Jen aren’t together.

Length: Medium ish

Masterlist

Note: It’s been a while, I’ve been busy with my studies and not being able to write because of writers block so I’m so glad I was about to finish this for the special! Hopefully I can get the nsfw version finished soon! Thank you for understand for the late fic!

*there are writing mistakes in my works, I don’t proofread!

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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Jennifer loves to give you small hugs and nudges close to your shoulder. She's not too fond of showing too much PDA when she is around the team but she is more than clingy when it comes to you being at home alone and it's just the both of you when the kids are down for a nap.

One way she would show affection is that she would also make some food for you early in the morning and plan small kisses on your forehead before you both go your separate ways in the office.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

JJ would give you secret fist bumps and high fives under the table every other time you get a bit closer to a case. You both had a little agreement that she would order or take you out to dinner once and a while in exchange for you to babysit the boys when she and she would take some time to herself if she needed it.

The friendship started with you bringing everyone some takeout and she helped you one time with it all food you both instantly clicked.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She loves to cuddle with you but only in private. She would mostly give you back hugs in the kitchen while you are cooking and you would lovingly give her kisses on the cheek while getting back to cooking.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

She is literally parenting two young boys but she would like to admit that will had done most of that before she started dating you so she did most of the domestic work.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Jennifer would be the most rational about the whole situation, taking the time to talk to you, being sympathetic about the whole situation in all when it comes to taking the time to hear each other out.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

She took some time to make the choice to marry Will but it was different with you. You both were in the same line of work so you instantly had some chemistry with that department; constantly being close and feeling comfortable with each other's ideas.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically she is like a teddy bear, but she would go full mama bear aggressive on anyone she dare to question her authority. Emotionally she has had some ups and downs but surely she would take the time to focus on herself.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She loves hugs, she would hug you as much as she could but she would give you quick hugs in the office she would also give you back hugs that trap you in all her love

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

There was one time she made you dinner and you blurted out the l bomb and she kind of froze, you silently cursed at yourself because you talked to each other about taking your time within your relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

One day when you were out at dinner with Jennifer, the waitress was flirting with you. You laughed it off she was one of your friends that you forgot to introduce to JJ.

She would stay quiet and hint at any gestures of trying to one-up the person that is making her jealous.

You would eventually catch on to her shenanigans and pull her aside to tell her what was it in the change in her behavior. she later confessed that she got jealous about the person that was flirting with you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Her kisses are soft and quick when she kisses you at work. She loves to kiss you on your cheek, neck, forehead, and shoulders when she openly does PDA. You kiss her it’s mostly on her lips, neck, and chest

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

She adores children and believes that they are the only good in the world. She was glad to have Henry and Michael when she did.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Often times you would wake up before her, or she would wake up before you just to make you and the kids breakfast. Then you would send her good wishes before she heads off to work. On the weekends she sleeps in with you and spoons you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

If she was working a big case she would come home quietly and take a shower before coming to bed so she wouldn’t wake you or the kids up. Most times you would be up working on some work when she would walk in late at night.

- You let out a soft yawn as you continued to type on your computer. The soft hum of the fridge radiated around the room, it was still in the kitchen minus the fact that you were typing and going through some files for your job.

The dim light in the kitchen made the warm and cozy atmosphere comfortable, making you tired and releasing another yawn.

In the distance, you could hear a car roll into your driveway. You peered your head at the living room window and through the curtains you could see the headlights of a car turn off, which you presumed to be Jennifer’s.

The door was quick to unlock and Jennifer entered through the threshold. You gleamed as she looked up and noticed you were still up. “Hi.” She whispered as she came your way.

You smiled and got up from your chair as she placed her stuff on the nearest seat. Jennifer smiled back she held you tightly, hugging you softly. “How was your day?” You asked as she clung her arms around your waist with her head buried in your neck.

“Good.” She mumbled as she pulled away and gave you a soft kiss.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You will try your best to notice the stuttle things like how she likes her coffee, if she’s left-handed or right-handed, etc. But after she asked you to move in with her, you noticed how she would always go to the kitchen and grab a cup of water before heading up to your shared bedroom and getting ready for bed. She would reveal things about herself slowly but sometimes she would be upfront and just tell you things about herself.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It’s already rare enough to see that sweet mama bear angry. Her temper is relatively tame but there are things that get to her and make her really upset. Usually, if she is upset you would like to stay clear of her path just in case she explodes on you but in most cases, she is open about what made her initially angered.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Jennifer tries her best to remember everything about you when you first met and afterward told herself to pay attention to the little details about you because she felt like she would need as much information about you as possible because she really liked you. She does have her moments where she forgets something about you but she always is good at fixing her mistakes and learning more from them.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You both made it clear that you liked each other when you both became SSAs since you’d both been working as liaisons for a while. You became an SSA before her but it wasn’t too long before she joined too. She was like a best friend to you and your first love. Jennifer loves to take about the time when you asked her out and the date was a disaster that left you both laughing at the end of the night instead of embarrassed.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

JJ does not joke about security when it comes to you. Communication is key and she is very adamant about that. She would be protective over you when you became pregnant for the first time. She was a nervous wreck and the boys were more than excited. You took the chance to step down and permanently work from home.

She would always text you any time she got a break or was at lunch. She had made an agreement with you when you both started dating that when she texted you had to text or call her back within 30 minutes, no later than an hour. Her job is rough and she knows the chances that an unsub could target her and put her family at risk.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She tries her best to be on time with everything but her job always gets in the way and you don't mind that because she always finds a way to make up for it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Jennifer sometimes picks at her nails when she is nervous or she would bounce her leg up and down. Sometimes she would also tap her pen or pencil on any surface if she was trying to focus

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

She did have some problems with her insecurity after she got kidnapped. She hated the scar on her abdomen and thought that you wouldn't love her anymore because she was beautiful, which was not the case.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Partially. In Jennifer's mind, she would like to think that you are part of her happiness, one and the same. You fill in for the happiness that she lost in some situations and you are the reason for her happiness. She doesn't want to be selfish to think that she would be better off without you or you're better off with someone who will take the time to love and care for you. But she is glad that you came into her life the way that you did because she couldn't ask for anything or anyone else but you

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

She twisted the handle to the door, creeping to the house, trying not to create any noises that would wake you or the kids up.

Tonight Jennifer was tired than usual and wanted to go straight to sleep on the couch. Most nights she would drop everything and shower up before getting into bed. She discarded her unnecessary clothes and looked to see you sleeping in the couch with the soft side lamp on.

You shuffled a bit at the sims what bright light as you opened your eyes to see her. You smiled sleepishly as she come over to you on the couch. You sat up “Hi baby, how was work?” You asked with a yawn, once she was finished she gave you a kiss.

“Busy as usual, I’m very tired.” She said as you laid down next to you. “I would cuddle with you but you have to shower and put in your pajamas.” You nudged at her. Jennifer let out a low groan as she got up off the couch, heading to get ready for bed so that she could come back to you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Miscommunication is the common thing that makes her angry if she has something she wanted to say but can’t say because it was interpreted incorrectly. Unfortunately, most of her relationships ended like this and she hated it. Luckily she wanted to do better with any other relationship in the future and she did, with you.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

She would sleep with a diffuser in the room so that she could maybe relax a bit. She would also lay on her back so that she could feel you lay on her chest, which usually calms her so that she could go to sleep.

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[forhappysake]

We're Okay

A/N - Guys idk where this came from. I guess I'm just feeling emotional and inspired.

Content - After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.

Warnings: spencer reid x fem!reader, season 14 spoilers, anxiety, mentions of typical BAU-level crime stuff, fluff at the end

You walked in the door slowly, cautionary even; afraid the smallest noise would bring reality crashing down on you. The car ride home had been completely silent, as neither of you bothered to turn on the radio. Spencer shuffled in behind you, the click of the lock making you wince as you did your best to avoid his gaze. You stripped off your coat, throwing it over the couch before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind you. 

As you started the shower and stripped off your clothes, the evening’s events rushed back into your mind. Being involved in a hostage situation with an unstable unsub was one thing. JJ being held at gunpoint was worse. However, as if all that wasn’t enough, JJ admitting her decade-long hidden love for Spencer was the final nail in the coffin. As you climbed into the shower, you did your best to let the water wash away the thoughts running through your head. 

Unfortunately, your attempt was unsuccessful. As you dried off and wrapped yourself in a towel, your mind raced. You’d been dating Spencer for nearly a year and a half. The two of you had just recently moved in together. Having known him and JJ for at least half a decade, you knew they were close, but you never would have guessed this was coming. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way she did. If so, what did this mean for your relationship?

After stalling in the bathroom for so long that goosebumps dotted your freshly dried body, you mustered up the courage to slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that you shared with Spencer. As you walked across the hallway, you could see his silhouette sitting on the living room couch, head bent forward. You couldn’t tell if he was reading or in deep thought, but you decided that either option was better than the alternative: trying to have a conversation. 

You snuck into the bedroom, gently turning on the bedroom light and letting your eyes adjust to the warm glow of your room. You meandered to the closet, pulling out a simple t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Slipping into your pajamas and stealing a glance at yourself in the vanity mirror, you noticed one of the many images covering the tabletop. 

A framed photograph from less than a year ago of JJ, Will, Spencer, and yourself with the boys on a weekend hiking trip. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest and wondered if Will had any idea what was going on in JJ’s head. You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that you had bigger problems of your own to deal with. You turned back to the bed, sliding under the covers and turning off the light. Despite your distress, you were exhausted and you found yourself losing track of time and drifting off to sleep in mere minutes. 

*  *  *

You awoke to the sound of the bedroom door latching shut. You rolled over, blinking your eyes open in an attempt to sneak a peak at your bedside alarm clock. You’d already been asleep for three hours and Spencer was just now coming to bed. It was well after midnight, and you knew that meant he had been up thinking about something. You figured it would be best not to push the subject after everything that had happened. 

With your eyes shut, you waited to feel the familiar sensation of Spencer climbing into bed. Instead, you felt his weight at the foot of the bed, as if he had perched himself on the end. You tried not to think much of this and did your best to fake sleep. However, it soon became apparent that Spencer was on to you. 

“I know you’re awake,” he said gently. His voice was gruff from the hours he’d spent in silence. Spencer waited before speaking again, “I think we should talk about what happened.” 

There it is, you thought. Your stomach sank as your eyes fluttered open. You rolled over to face him, leaning up on your arms. It was then you noticed that he was still in his suit. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the disheveled man in front of you. “Alright,” you relented, still refusing to meet his eyes, “what do you want to talk about?”

Spencer rolled his neck, tension evident in his movements. “I want to know how you feel about what was said earlier,” he said. For the first time in hours, you met his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. You found no signs of dishonesty, so you fell back on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“I don’t know, Spencer,” you groaned. “I definitely was surprised. I definitely wasn’t thrilled.” Spencer nodded, moving some hair away from his eyes as you spoke. “But,” you started again, “it’s not like we can go back and change it now.” 

He reached an arm out, putting a hand over the covers on top of your knee. “I know,” he whispered, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

You scoffed a bit at his sincerity and his innocence, meeting his eyes once more. “And how do you feel about it?” you asked. 

Spencer bit his lip in thought. You could tell you had caught him off guard with the question, and he seemed to be calculating his response. “Can I be honest with you?” he said. 

You raised your eyebrows, the nervous feeling in your stomach intensifying. Is this where he tells you he feels the same way and leaves for good? You pushed your thoughts to the side. “Always,” you whispered.

He sighed, laying back on the bed so he was next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his warmth. You knew this wasn’t the time, so you held yourself back and held your breath, awaiting his response. 

“First, I was confused,” Spencer explained, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I haven’t thought about JJ like that in over ten years. Frankly, I never knew she thought of me that way, so I was caught off-guard.” 

So he did have a crush on her at one time, you thought. You were ready to close your eyes in defeat, to slip off the bed and out of the apartment and never come back when he cleared his throat. 

“But then,” he started once more, “I had a quick epiphany of all the moments she’d gone out of her way for me, and I could understand where she was coming from.” You turned to look at him, watching his eyes scan the ceiling as he tried to come up with his next statements. 

“And?” you asked, prompting him to continue. 

“And then,” he continued your previous statement, “I was terribly appalled.” 

Your head, which had turned to the ceiling, snapped back in his direction. You felt your eyebrows raise and your jaw drop open a bit in surprise. “Appalled?” you asked, confusion evident in your expression. 

“Appalled,” Spencer echoed, sitting up on the edge of the bed once more and looking back at you. 

“Why?” you asked. 

Spencer shook his head, looking around the room. “I’ve been thinking about that for the last couple hours, and I’ve come up with a lot of reasons,” he mused. “I know she was in a tight place, but Will deserves better than that. The boys deserve better than that. But aside from them,” he leaned over on the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you must have thought. I was so afraid of your reaction and of losing you.”

Despite your evident emotional state as tears pooled in your eyes, you tried to play it off. “Spencer, this isn’t about me,” you reminded him. 

“Yes,” he said, lying next to you, “it is.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling some curls out of his eyes. “Everyone knows how much I love you. I know how scary something like this can be. But you have to know that I have no idea where this came from and that anything JJ and I had died, on my end, long before I ever met you.” 

You glanced over at him, the sincerity in his voice had moved you to believe him. For a moment, you forgot about JJ and Will, the boys, and the implications of her words. You offered his fingers a small squeeze. “So we’re okay?” you asked in a tiny voice. 

“More than,” Spencer whispered. 

He rolled on his side to face you and you mirrored his actions. He wrapped his arms tight around your body, the textured material of his suit jacket pressed against your cheek. A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead and you found yourself falling back into sleep. After several minutes passed, you felt Spencer’s voice rumble through his chest for a final time before he succumbed to sleep: “Ever since I met you,” he mumbled, smoothing some stray hairs away from your face, “it’s always been you.”

[rynbutt]

safe. | spencer reid.

You were pregnant but JJ had just left the team and they needed you. You hadn't told anyone; you hadn't even told Spencer.

my masterlist!

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, guns, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs (antidepressants and opioids), mentions of car accident, gunshot wounds, death of pregnant woman, general criminal minds themes.

wc: 6.2k

a/n: bruh this was a looooong one! dw some banging smut coming in the next one with post-prison reid >:3

now playing... Fare Well by Hozier

This was really starting to piss you off.

You fell to your knees as bile pushed up your throat, your skin paling as you vomited for the third time today. You tried to keep something, anything, down but you would just wind up curled in on yourself and sweating in the corner of the bathroom stall. You ate a couple of crackers and sipped on water to keep your empty stomach satiated– But you always ended up right back here on the bathroom floor with your head between your knees trying to will the pain away.

Emily noticed your pale complexion and how exhausted you looked, offering to get you some medicine or ask Hotch about sitting out of the next few cases. You told her you were fine, that it was just stress. That answer seemed to satisfy her enough, though she wasn’t fully convinced. To be fair, your workload had increased tenfold since JJ was forced to accept the job at the Pentagon, and you missed her terribly but you were proud of her. But you really could have used her advice right about now.

Because you swore this baby had it out for you.

You found out you were pregnant just over a week ago and you still hadn’t told Spencer. You were still wrapping your head around the whole thing because initially, you didn’t think you were pregnant, you just thought your body was dealing with the stress and workload in, frankly, a bizarre way. Hotch had wanted you to take over doing JJ’s job as communication liaison, which were rather important shoes to fill. He had total faith in your ability to do JJ’s job as well as do your own as a profiler, but you weren’t so sure anymore. 

You would tell Spencer when you were ready and right now was not a good time. Everyone was surviving on four hours of sleep a night, far too many cups of coffee and sheer willpower. The absolute last thing they needed was to lose another team member. So you soldiered on like a champion– a champion who still held her head over the bureau’s less than impressive toilet while she threw her guts up.

“Y/N?” You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open, the ringing rattling around your skull distracting you from your surroundings. Penelope’s heels clicked against the tiles as she cautiously peered around the wall of the last stall where you kneeled on the ground. “Oh my god, sweet thing! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Pen,” your voice was hoarse when you finally replied. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to smooth your hair down, attempting to look at least semi-presentable before you left the bathroom to pretend everything was okay.

“No, no, my girl, you are not fine!” Penelope stood in behind you, pulling your hair out of your face as you vomited the last remnant of your soul into the toilet. “You need to talk to Hotch, you’ve got a bug or something, my dear. You shouldn’t even be at work when you’re this sick, let me talk to him for you and you just go home–”

“I’m not sick, Penelope!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, you really didn’t, you just felt awful and felt like a shell of yourself with how poorly you’d been sleeping and eating paired with all the stress of doing JJ’s job as well as your own. It was just a lot.

Penelope went quiet but stayed close to you, still holding your hair as you sat back on your heels, running your hands down your face. She let out a soft sigh, knowing you didn’t mean to shout at her. Penelope was stressed too– everyone was.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you mumbled, your throat hurting from all the vomiting and coughing you’d managed to do today– it had to be a record honestly. 

Penelope just shook her head at you, reaching her hand out toward you, “you don’t have to apologise, sweet girl, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” You shook your head, you still felt bad and shouting at sweet Penelope was not the way to deal with all the emotions swirling around in your head.

“It’s not fair,” you replied as she helped you to your feet, gently guiding you over to the basin to help you clean yourself up. “You’re stressed too, I didn’t mean to yell.”

Penelope brushed some of your hair out of your face, her gaze narrowing as she watched you, waiting for you to tell her what was going on. It never came and she knew she would have to push you a little. Penelope thought it was necessary though because seeing you like this was awful and she couldn’t even imagine how Spencer would react if he knew how sick you were.

“What’s going on?” Penelope’s voice was soft; gentle, just trying to get you to talk so she could help. You were stubborn when it came to asking for help and by the time you did, you had hurt yourself more than necessary trying to solve it yourself. Not this time though– Penelope refused.

“I’m okay–” you looked at Penelope and she raised her brows at you, not accepting that answer in the slightest. You sighed, knowing this is a fight you wouldn’t win. “I’m pregnant.”

Penelope’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She knew something was up with you but pregnant? That was not on this year's bingo card. “What?? Y/N that’s–” she gauged your expression and she really couldn’t tell if you were upset or happy about being pregnant. She cut herself off before she finished her sentence, pulling her lips into a line. “Are we happy about this news or are we…?”

“We’re…” you were happy. Honestly, you were. You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day, ideally after you were married but that didn’t seem to be going to plan. You’d been with Spencer for three years, in the BAU for four, it’s not like your relationship was new or in the honeymoon phase, it just wasn’t the original plan and that scared the hell out of you. But you were happy to be carrying his child– the timing was just piss poor. “We’re happy… just scared.”

“Oh, baby,” Penelope cooed. “Of course you’re scared, it’s a huge adjustment. But I know you and I know Spencer, you guys will nail this parenting business.” Penelope managed to prove time and time again why she was your best friend. You often wondered if she knew you better than you knew yourself, which wouldn’t really surprise you given her job.

“I hope so.” You smiled softly, feeling somewhat human again after splashing water on your face and washing your hands. You knew Spencer would be a good dad, he was so good with kids and he was so gentle and patient with you. He was meant to be a dad. You just weren’t sure if you were meant to be a mother. You wanted to be a family with Spencer, it made you feel warm just thinking about it, but you were a person who worried about almost everything, even the things out of your control. What scared you was how in control you were. 

“I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t told everyone, that boy is obsessed with you and you’re making him a dad? God, it must be killing him sitting on this–” Penelope suddenly looked at you wide-eyed, connecting the dots all on her own. You winced as you watched her figure it out, gritting your teeth as she let out a soft gasp. “You haven’t told him?!”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a muffled squeal of frustration into your palms. You would tell him eventually, just not right now, he was far too busy and was already stressing about his own workload, you couldn’t imagine how much more stressed he would be if he found out you were still in the field while pregnant.

“Pen, please,” you turned to her, “please keep this to yourself. I– We can’t deal with this right now. JJ’s gone and everyone is worked to the bone, I can’t do this to everyone right now, especially Spencer.” Penelope looked at you sympathetically, you knew you were asking a lot of her to keep it to herself, especially when Penelope wasn’t great at keeping secrets.

“Y/N, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell them eventually– You’re an FBI Agent. Being in the field is so dangerous and you don’t just have yourself to think about anymore.” You knew Penelope was right. You carried a gun around for Christ’s sake, you literally hunted down serial killers, active shooters, total psychopaths and everything in between. The field was no place for a pregnant woman. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed, resting both of your hands on the basin in front of you.

“...How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said softly, resting your hand against your belly. You didn’t have much of a bump yet but you were sure it would sneak up on you before you even realised. Lucky for you, you wore a lot of baggy sweaters around the office so you had some wriggle room when it came to hiding it.

“...My money’s on a girl,” Penelope was trying to make you feel better. She really was helping because the idea of Spencer hosting tea parties, getting covered in kitten stickers and his hair being covered in tiny butterfly clips made your heart swell.

You let out a soft laugh, “I think so too.”

“Alright, my love, I think we should leave this bathroom before they send out a search party,” Penelope laughed, linking her arm with yours to guide you out of the bathroom. 

You honestly did feel better after talking to Penelope and throwing the rest of your guts up. She made sure to remind you about ten times to call her if you needed anything, you promised you would because it did make you feel better knowing that someone knew about your pregnancy and you didn’t have to bear the weight of the news alone.

You sat down at your desk with a sigh, sipping on your water bottle to soothe your raw throat. You popped a piece of gum in your mouth, willing the taste of bile away. You let out a huff of air as you stared down at all the paperwork you had to do. Doing JJ’s job proved to be intense, especially when you were doing your own work on top of her’s. You picked up your pen when you felt Spencer press a kiss to the crown of your head as he placed a mug of hot coffee on your desk in front of you.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. Spencer took the opportunity to kiss you softly, one of his hands resting on the side of your desk while the other rested on the back of your chair. You smiled against his lips, “shouldn’t you be working?” You teased.

“Are you trying to get me to go away?” Spencer looked at you curiously. You rolled your eyes playfully because of course you didn’t want him to go away. If anything, you wanted him to pick you up and take you home right this second.

“Yes, Spencer,” you replied sarcastically, “I’m trying to get you to go away.” Spencer wasn’t great with sarcasm but he had come to understand your humour over the years. He just grinned and pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Sarcasm is rooted in truth, angel,” Spencer retorted with a gentle smile. 

“I am joking, but we both have a lot of work to do, Spence. I don’t know how I’m going to manage doing JJ’s job as well as my own,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“There’s a reason Hotch wanted you to do it. I don’t think he could have picked anyone more capable,” Spencer replied. Maybe it was the hormones and the fact you were carrying a baby, but the comment made you want to cry. Spencer frowned as he watched your face fall, “what’s wrong, angel?”

“No, nothing,” You replied, sniffling quietly. You gave him a genuine smile, “I’m fine, Spence. I promise–”

“New case just came in,” Morgan called to the two of you, gesturing toward the meeting room at the back of the office with a manila folder in his hand. 

You looked at Morgan with a confused expression because now it was your job to decide what cases the team took after JJ’s departure. Morgan told you the case went straight to Hotch this time; an old friend had called in a favour. 

Spencer pulled a chair out for you, taking the seat right beside you in the meeting room. You opened the case file the moment Penelope dropped it in front of you.

“The victims are 20-year-old Evan Miller and 21-year-old Daniel Clark, both engineering students at Caltech. They were shot three days apart outside their family homes in the local area of Pasadena, California.” You followed along with Penelope as she gave a run down of the victims and the circumstances of their deaths.

The killings were straightforward, the UnSub didn’t try to dispose of the bodies and the men were simply shot in the head execution style. It didn’t seem like the doings of a serial killer who would usually seek some kind of sexual release from torturing and killing their victims. If anything, it seemed like revenge killings.

“They were just shot?” Emily questioned, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the crime scene photos. 

“Once in the head,” Hotch replied, “there were no witnesses around which suggests the UnSub knew the routine of the victims and the neighbourhood.”

“Could be a stalker?” Penelope suggested.

“Stalker victims are usually the object of a stalker’s affection, they rarely act in violence let alone such a blunt killing,” You replied, confused by the nature of such a straightforward murder.

Spencer flicked through the victim’s files, “the single shot to the head suggests the UnSub just wanted them dead. No physical evidence of sexual release or torture… This could be some kind of revenge killing.”

“Did these victims know each other?” You asked.

“According to their parents, they came from the same friend group,” Penelope replied. 

“Wheels up in thirty. Garcia, you're coming with us. Get your go bag,” Hotch said, quickly standing up from his chair. Penelope made a small noise of surprise before quickly ushering out of the meeting room. Hotch didn’t usually have Penelope come along but given you were short a very valuable member of your team, Penelope had started coming along more often. Not that you would ever complain having Penelope around. 

You pinned up the last of the crime scene photos on the board, standing back with your hands on your hips. Spencer was writing on the whiteboard next to you, jotting down all the things you knew about the victims and possible motives of the UnSub. Hotch and Morgan were engaging in formalities with the local detectives on the case while Penelope got herself settled in the makeshift office they had set up for the team. 

“The parents of the victims are here,” Emily poked her head into the office. “Y/N, Hotch wants you to talk to Ben and Sarah Miller, I’ve got the Clarks.”

“Alright, I got it,” you replied, letting out a dejected sigh. 

“You okay?” Spencer gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear, turning his full attention to you. You let out another sigh, nodding your head tiredly. “You can do this,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting between yours.

“Yeah, I know,” you smiled softly. Spencer planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the office, leaving Spencer and Penelope alone. 

“...I think she needs a break,” Penelope said after a beat. 

Spencer looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “what makes you say that?”

Penelope tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, “she’s doing JJ’s job and her own. I mean, I think she’s the right girl for the job but… you know what she’s like.”

Spencer sighed, he knew exactly what you were like. You always held yourself and your work to such a high standard and you often overworked yourself to make everyone happy. “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to her when we get back to the hotel.”

“I think that’s a great idea, lover boy,” Penelope grinned.

You opened the office door, files in hand. Mr and Mrs Miller immediately stood up as you entered and you gave them a sympathetic smile. Mrs Miller had clearly been crying, still clutching a tissue in her hand while her husband paced around the office.

“Please, have a seat, Mr Miller,” you said gently.

“I’ll stand,” he replied firmly. You decided not to argue and sat down on the chair opposite the couch where Mrs Miller sat.

“Mrs Miller, I’m Agent L/N, I’m with the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the FBI–”

“FBI?” She questioned. “Was Evan in trouble?”

“We suspect he and his friend Daniel were killed by the same person,” you explained. Mrs Miller let out a soft gasp, her hand coming to rest over her mouth. 

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about Evan?” You asked. Sarah didn’t say anything but she nodded her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “Daniel and Evan knew each other, right?”

“They went to high school together,” Sarah replied, her voice shaking. “They were so excited when they both got into Caltech,” she smiled sadly, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Do you have any idea who killed our son?” Ben asked, his voice sounding angry.

“That’s what we’re here for,” you said, “we’re here to find who killed your son and why–”

“‘Why”?” Ben repeated, “he was just a kid.”

You sighed softly, “I understand that, sir. We’re just trying to figure out a possible connection.”

“Evan and Daniel were good kids. They would never hurt a fly,” Sarah frowned, sniffling softly as she began crying again. 

“Did Daniel and Evan hang around the same social groups?” You asked, turning your attention to Mr Miller, who was still pacing around the office with his arms crossed. “Maybe in some kind of extracurricular activities?”

“They were both on the college basketball team,” Ben said after a beat. “Why? You think this asshole is going to kill more of these kids?”

“I am just trying to get an idea of the social groups Evan and Daniel were a part of,” you didn’t want to get into the gory details of why you were asking such questions and decided they were both far too emotional for you to keep asking them questions; you would let Hotch handle it. “I need to speak with my team but I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You rested a hand on Mrs Miller’s shoulder and you couldn’t shake how much you missed JJ doing this part.

You let out a sigh as you left the office, rubbing the tension in the back of your neck. You slowly walked over to Hotch, “Evan was on the Caltech Basketball team, he and Daniel went to high school together and Evan’s parents were adamant he was a good kid. I think he was a good kid, just got involved with the wrong people.”

Hotch let out a breath, “I want you and Prentiss to go to the school, talk to the faculty, basketball team coach, anything you can get.”

You nodded, gesturing to Emily on the other side of the bullpen. She firmly nodded at you and the two of you left for the school.

The team worked the case for two days before another body showed up. Everyone was starting early and finishing late to find the person who was doing this and you worked closely with the detectives and other officers on the case. Hotch gave the profile as soon as the team was certain but given the demographic of the suburban areas he was targeting these boys, it was rather unremarkable. The third body belonged to 21-year-old Oliver Marsh, another Caltech student studying Physics. He was shot once in the head while walking his dog no further than a block from his house. 

You stood in the middle of Oliver’s bedroom staring at the posters and certificates that littered his walls. Spencer rifled through papers on his desk, mostly finding papers related to physics journals and essays for school. Emily and David were downstairs talking to the parents while Hotch and Morgan went to see the crime scene.

You walked over to his bedside table pulling it open. There were a lot of birthday cards and a game boy but what caught your attention was the little clear yellow bottles with white caps. You lifted the first bottle out, reading the label–

“Oliver was taking Oxycodone,” you said softly, catching Spencer’s attention. “...And Escitalopram,” you spun on your heel, showing Spencer the two bottles. Spencer took the bottles from your hands, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully read the labels. “Chronic pain?” you suggested.

“Could be,” Spencer replied. “He could have been taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories too, they’re typically over the counter.”

You rifled through the drawer again, pulling out a blue box, “Yeah, he was taking Ibuprofen too.”

“We should talk to the parents,” Spencer said. You nodded and the two of you ushered down the stairs to where his parents sat in the living room with David and Emily. “Was Oliver suffering from chronic pain?” Spencer quickly questioned before he even fully made it into the living room.

Oliver’s mother held a tissue to her nose, glancing at Emily with a confused expression. You put your hand on Spencer’s bicep, “Has Oliver injured himself recently? Maybe a fall or injury while playing sports?”

Oliver’s father shook his head, “No, not recently. He’s been on those antidepressants for a few years and takes the codeine when he has– had flare-ups.”

“Flare-ups?” David asked pointedly.

“He was in a car accident four years ago,” Mrs Marsh said, “He was in the passenger seat and was in a coma for two weeks… he hadn’t really been the same after that, got really sad and antisocial… he was in a lot of pain too.”

“He had to stop playing Football and running track, his body just couldn’t keep up,” Mr Marsh added, his eyes glazing over. “He lost a lot of friends, I don’t think I ever saw him hang out with anyone, Physics became everything to him.”

“Do you have evidence of his medical records anywhere?” Spencer asked. “Just so I can look them over.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Mrs Marsh stood up, Spencer following her to their home office on the other side of the house.

You sat down across from Mr Marsh, “The accident he was in,” you started, “what happened?”

He looked at you with a pain in his eyes, “He was in the car with some of his friends and they were driving home from a party and it was late. I think they were all…” he hesitated for a moment, “they were all drunk.”

“Who was in the car?” Emily asked, not liking where this was going.

“...Evan Miller and Daniel Clark,” his father began to cry, holding his hand over his mouth. You felt your eyes widen, this was a revenge killing.

“Who was driving, Mr Marsh?” David asked quickly.

“Um, god–” He sniffled softly, “Peter… Peter something, he was older than them, I really don’t remember.”

“Thank you, Mr Marsh,” You stood up, quickly moving to the front door to call Penelope. You pulled out your phone, dialling her number. She picked up after the first ring.

“How may I be of service, oh queen of my country?” she sang, her fingers typing furiously against her keyboard. 

“I need you to look into an accident for me, four years ago,” you said with your hand on your hip. “Oliver Marsh, Daniel Clark and Evan Miller were all in the accident too. See if you can find newspaper articles, news segments, anything– I think we know who the last target is.”

“Right, give me a moment,” Penelope replied. You heard her typing before she stopped, “Oh no…” she mumbled softly.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” You furrowed your brows.

“Peter Harvey,” Penelope sighed, “he’s the last boy… He was driving with three other high school boys; Oliver, Daniel and Evan when they struck an oncoming car and killed a pregnant woman on impact; her husband walked away without a scratch.”

“Shit.” You cursed, “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Hughes, his wife was Katherine… she was 8 months pregnant, Y/N.” Penelope sounded so pained and you knew she was thinking of you and the small baby you were carrying. “Y/N…”

“I know, Pen… After this case wraps up… I’ll tell everyone,” you replied with a gentle sigh.

“And you’ll take time off?” Penelope sounded like she was lecturing you.

You smiled to yourself, “Yeah, Penelope. I’ll take some time off.”

“Okay… I’ll send Hotch and Morgan Jonathan’s last known address, I’m sending you Peter Harvey’s address–”

Your phone beeped as Penelope sent the address through. “Where would I be without you, Pen?”

“Nowhere good, my love,” you could hear the smile in her voice. You quickly hung up before walking back into the Marsh’s house. 

Emily and David turned to look at you, “We’ve got him.”

“Alright, you guys go, I’ll grab Reid and we’ll be right behind you,” David waved you off and Emily quickly ushered the two of you to the car. 

Emily was speeding toward the address Penelope had given you while you called Hotch and Morgan, filling them in on all the information Penelope had given you. They agreed to go to Jonathan’s address to hopefully intersect him before he left for Peter Harvey. You were always nervous when it came to these parts of the case because you couldn’t control the outcome no matter how hard you tried. A grieving man was going around killing these young men and while it was awful what he was doing; you could sympathise with him and the pain he was feeling over losing his wife and unborn child. 

You instinctively rested a hand over your belly, your thumb stroking the small curve. You couldn’t even imagine how much pain Spencer would be in if he lost you, let alone your child too. You would tell him and you would ask Hotch about taking some time off later in your pregnancy and sitting out of cases like this. 

“Shit he’s already here,” Emily cursed when she noticed Jonathan’s SUV parked a couple of blocks from Peter’s address. “Call Hotch.”

You dialled Hotch’s number and he picked up almost instantly, “What is it, L/N?”

“He’s already here, his SUV is parked a couple blocks down from Peter’s address. He’s already out looking for him,” You quickly said.

“We’re on our way, units are already on route,” he hung up after that. 

Emily pulled the car up on the gutter, the car skidding to a stop. You immediately pushed the door open, holding your gun by your thigh as you ran across the lawn to Peter Harvey’s house. You knocked on the door and a woman answered after a beat.

“Mrs Harvey?” You asked, panting softly.

“Yes?”

“Is your son Peter here?”

“No, he went to the store down the street an hour ago, he should be back soon… What is this about?” She asked, her hand gripping the door in concern.

“We believe someone dangerous may be looking for your son,” Emily said. Mrs Harvey rested her hand over her mouth, a soft gasp leaving her lips.

“Mom?” You spun around and Peter stood with a plastic bag of groceries in his hand in the middle of the lawn.

It all happened almost in slow motion. You saw a figure wearing dark clothes stalking across the lawn and without even thinking, you darted toward Peter as the UnSub pulled the gun out of his coat, aiming it straight at Peter’s head. You could hear Emily yelling at Mrs Harvey to go back inside before she pulled out her gun and aimed it at the UnSub; but it was too late.

You shoved Peter to the ground as he fired, feeling the shot burn through your shoulder as both you and Peter fell to the ground. You instinctively pressed a hand to your burning shoulder, warm blood oozing from the wound and through your fingers. 

“Jonathan Hughes?” You said, your breathing heavy as you tried to fight through the pain. He held his gun right in front of your face.

“Move,” he grunted, his eyes glassy.

“I know what happened to your wife,” you breathed trying to stall him as more police cars with blaring sirens pulled into the street.

“They killed her,” tears streamed down his face and you honestly felt bad for him. 

“It was an accident,” you replied softly.

“They were drunk,” he almost yelled, his hand shaking as his gun was still trained on you.

“I know,” you said, “It was a stupid mistake that haunted them, Jonathan. I know it doesn’t change what happened but these boys–”

“They’re monsters!” he shouted, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

You saw David and Spencer get out of the car. Spencer’s heart was in his throat when he saw you kneeled on the ground, shielding Peter with your body while your hand and shirt were covered in your own blood. He didn’t even pick up his gun as he began stalking toward you.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft when he called you at first, then it turned to outright concern and anger, “Y/N? No, no!”

David grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back as Spencer fought against him, trying to get to you. It was irrational and it was dangerous. David quickly picked up his walkie, “An agent has been shot, we need an ambulance.”

“Who was shot?!” Penelope’s voice rang out in the car as she spoke to Morgan and Hotch.

“I repeat, agent L/N is shot, we need an ambulance,” David spoke before putting his walkie away to hold Spencer back, pulling him to the ground.

“Morgan! Oh my god!” Penelope felt tears form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babygirl, she’s going to be alright,” Morgan said, trying to reassure her as Hotch stepped on the accelerator. 

“No, Morgan, you don’t understand–”

“We’re going to get an ambulance–”

“She’s pregnant!” Penelope blurted out, not knowing what else to say for them to understand the gravity of why Penelope was so upset and concerned. 

Hotch hesitated for a moment, “She’s what?”

Penelope let out a shaky breath, “she’s twelve weeks pregnant, Hotch. She wasn’t going to tell anyone until after the case– and now she’s been shot.” Penelope began to cry, holding her hand over her mouth as tears slipped from her eyes.

Hotch hadn’t sped that fast since he found out Foyet was in his house. He cared about his team a lot and he had a soft spot for you even though he wouldn’t admit it. The tires skidded along the road as Hotch pulled on the handbrake, both him and Morgan training their guns on the UnSub as they approached.

Morgan’s heart hurt at the sight of you, your skin slightly paled as blood bloomed from your shoulder, drenching your arm and your hands. You looked so scared as the UnSub trained his gun on you, unmoving. Emily had her gun aimed at the UnSub, yelling for him to put it down.

“Jonathan Hughes!” Morgan’s voice caught your attention. “Put down the gun!”

“Don’t move!” Jonathan shouted, “I’ll shoot her!”

“No you won’t, man,” Morgan shook his head.

“How do you know that!? She’s in my way!” He shouted back.

“She’s pregnant,” Morgan sighed. Your eyes widened as you looked at Morgan, who looked back at you with a sad expression. 

Spencer stopped fighting against David, his breathing evening out as the words fell on his ears. You were pregnant. You were carrying his baby and you got shot and now you had a gun held up in front of your face. Spencer didn’t even realise he was crying, his tears cold against his warm skin. All he could do was watch, there was nothing he could do.

Jonathan glanced at you as you held your hand over your belly. “W-What?”

Morgan reached a hand out as he got closer. “Just like your wife, Jonathan… You wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman like those boys did.” 

Jonathan seemed to dissociate, staring at you with such a hurt expression as Morgan leapt forward, grabbing the gun from Jonathan’s hands and tossing it across the grass. He pushed Jonathan to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back. You let out a breath as you felt yourself grow tired. Emily caught you before you fell the rest of the way to the ground, holding you close to her body as she screamed for a medic. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Emily gently rocked you, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears running down your cheeks.

Your eyes were heavy as you attempted to pry them open.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally pulled your eyes open, the smell of disinfectant hit you first, followed by the sounds of beeping. You were in the hospital. You glanced down at your arm, an IV stuck in your arm while a pulse oximeter was clipped to your finger. Despite the fact the doctor had prescribed pain medication, you still felt like shit and your shoulder was killing you.

A soft noise caught your attention and you glanced at the chair next to your bed, Spencer sound asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket draped over him. You smiled softly as you saw the flowers, balloons and plushies littered around your room, most likely a courtesy of Penelope.

“She’s awake,” Morgan smiled, standing in the doorway. 

You grinned at him, “Hi, Derek.”

Morgan slowly walked over to your bed. “Feeling okay, pretty girl?” Morgan gently grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m okay,” you replied. You almost didn’t want to ask but you knew you had to, “...is the baby okay?”

“Your baby is fine,” Morgan replied with a soft smile. You let out a breath of relief as you placed a hand over your tummy protectively. “...You scared the life out of everyone though.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Especially your lover boy,” Morgan said, “he hasn’t left your side.”

“Sounds like my Spencer,” you laughed softly. 

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was laced with sleep as he opened his eyes. He quickly got up, ditching the blanket on the floor to tend to you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Morgan quickly said before leaving the room.

Spencer’s warm hands cupped your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought I lost you, Y/N.” He let out a breath, pulling away to stare at your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. You reached a hand up to grip his forearm.

“I’m sorry–”

“You don’t need to–”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears formed in your eyes as you stared up at him, searching for any kind of anger or resentment. There wasn’t any, he could never be mad at you.

“I wouldn’t have let you come on the case,” he replied after a beat. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you… I knew you would be protective– more protective,” you corrected with a soft smile. 

“I’m aware,” Spencer pulled his lips into a tight smile. “You know the odds of… complications are higher in the first trimester, angel. You should have told me,” he frowned.

“I know, Spence,” you sighed. “I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear before I told you… I understand being shot isn’t necessarily helping with that but–”

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You stared at him for a moment, “are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“That I’m pregnant? I know we’re not married and our jobs are crazy but–”

Spencer cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips, he pulled away slightly, “I’ve never been more happy,” he whispered.

You beamed with happiness, a bright smile tugging on your lips. Spencer hesitantly pressed a hand to your belly, his thumb stroking your tiny bump.

“Penelope thinks it’s a girl,” you muttered.

“...What do you think?” He asked curiously.

“I think she might be right,” you giggled softly.

“You know you can’t actually tell yet,” Spencer said and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You asked what I thought!” you retorted.

He laughed softly, “Yes, you’re right, you’re right.”

“Mmm, did that taste like poison to admit?”

“Are gunshot victims supposed to be this mouthy?”

a/n: phew! i hope you guys liked it <3 i know i disappeared for a hot minute but here she is!!!

[0anonnymouslyours0]

imagine; spencer with a famous gf, and the team finding out.

picture this:

your penelopes favourite celebrity, and she religiously stalks your page, even has notification for when you post. you've just posted, and shes inspecting the newest photos, when her eyes catch on a very familiar coffee shop. namely, spencers favourite coffee shop, which he regularly drags the team to after cases. scrolling to the next post, she nearly drops her phone when a recognizable silhouette of a man is in the corner of the photo. its in what penelope presumes is your living room, a photo of your fireplace, and a man hunched over in a chair next to it reading a book.

"derek!" penelope squeals running out of her office.

"woah-woah. whats happening?"

"spencer! reid!"

"yes, i know him?" derek gives her a funny look.

"he's on her instagram post! the famous y/n! spencer!" penelope shoves the phone in his face, and dereks eyes widen at it.

"that is defiantly spencers living room." jj says, who has appeared behind derek starring at the photo.

"it is? it is!" penelope claps, earning a few funny looks.

"no, no guys this is the y/n. like really hot, famous y/n." morgan says.

"spencer could never-"

he gets cut off by spencer walking into the room, cup of coffee ( mostly sugar ) in hand.

"i could never what?" he says, raising a brow at the trio.

"you- you are dating y/n y/l/n!" penelope says, pointing at him.

spencers cheeks flush pink, a sheepish smile on his face.

"uhh, yes.." he states, confusion crossing his features.

"nah, no way? pretty boy isnt that pretty." derek states, and spencer glares at him.

"no way he could pull her."

"i could." spencer says defensively.

"and he did." jj adds.

morgan frowns shaking his head.

"where did you even meet her?"

"at a coffee shop, then we had coffee, exchanged numbers.. i really didn't know who she was until i head penelope talking about her."

"thats why you asked me so many questions about her!"

spencer nods, giving them a straight-mouthed smile.

"i don't believe this. no offense-" morgan says, shrugging.

"why don't you just- meet her?" spencer says, shrugging.

"yes, yes! please!" penelope shouts.

sure enough, you do exist, and when you show up to the teams dinner, spencers arm wrapped around your waist, morgan has no choice but to believe it, and penelope no choice but to faint in your presence.

[confused-pyramid]

Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, slow slow slow burn, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 1x01, 1x06, 1x07, 1x08, 1x15, 1x16, and 1x22

a/n: I started rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is what came out of it heh. This is the first part in a little series I'm starting that follows Hotch and his childhood best friend in the BAU, beginning with the pilot. If all goes well, this will continue through the rest of the show, with ~1 part per season :) Title is from Coming up for air by Signals in Smoke

series masterlist

You haven't used your oven in over a year. It's not that you don't like cooking - because you do - you just haven't had the time. If you could, you would blame it on the extra hours you have had to put in after starting at the BAU, but that wouldn't be fair. Your transfer to the unit was the only thing that got you through his death at all.

After your husband was shot and killed in action while tailing a kingpin of one of the New York mobs, you couldn't bear to be in this house at all. You had gone back home to stay with your father for a couple of months, but eventually you had to get back to your real life. With a month remaining on your bureau-mandated leave, you returned to the home you had shared, before one of the lower-level mob soldiers misfired -

You didn't let yourself think about it for almost a year, but time heals all wounds. The poets were right. At least you hope they are.

Even back at home, you still couldn't bear to be there alone, other than when you were sleeping. That's why your peloton was gathering dust and your kitchen went untouched, until just now.

So, of course, the call from the office comes when you're making dinner. It takes five minutes to change into slacks and a button-up, and two more to toss your half-cooked vegetables in the trash, before driving down to headquarters.

A fourth girl has been taken in Seattle, and the local PD only now decided to invite your team. You know the BAU isn't well-liked by the other departments, but that doesn't mean you aren't effective.

When you enter the building, you rush through the I.D. check and jog over to the lecture hall, where Morgan and Reid are standing outside of a neighboring office like children waiting for their father to come and get them.

Shooting them both a thin-lipped smile, you step inside just as they finish discussing the unsub's pattern.

"They want you back in the saddle," Hotch says to the man beside him after greeting you with a nod.

Your eyes are so immediately drawn to Hotch that it takes you a moment to realize that you recognize the man standing next to him. You haven't seen him since the day you were assigned to the BAU, mostly because you were technically transferred to this unit because of his extended leave.

What was supposed to be one month became six, before Hotch informed you that your temporary placement would be permanent, if you were willing to stay in Virginia.

It was a no-brainer.

You turn your gaze to Jason Gideon as everyone in the room stares at him expectantly. He looks self-assured, but you're sure the confidence is a front. "They sure they want me?"

"The order came from the director," Hotch says simply.

"Well," Gideon states, "we'd better get started, then."

Hotch glances over at you as everyone files out of the room and you raise your eyebrows momentarily, a quick check-in between the two of you. He nods imperceptibly and it's enough for now. He didn't tell you Gideon was coming back today, but now isn't the time to give him hell for that.

***

Hotch is the last to board the plane, and he takes his usual seat beside you, this time in the aisle, a few rows away from the rest of the team.

"I was going to tell you," he says as soon as you close the case file in your hands. "The section chief wants me to evaluate him to see if he's ready to return to the team."

"That's a lot of pressure." They have to know that Gideon will be able to smell him out within the day. "You sure it won't get in the way?"

Hotch makes that face you hate, the one that says he knows you're deflecting. "I was going to tell you."

It doesn't take much for you to forgive him. It helps that you trust him completely, especially after everything he has done for you.

"Still," you smile, bumping his shoulder with yours, "it would have been nice to know about the sudden change to my job security."

You're mostly joking, but his frown is genuine. "Don't be silly. You'll always have a place on this team."

He takes everything so seriously these days. You suppose it's only fair, given the files he has to sort through on a daily basis. Picking which case deserves the team's attention the most.

But he wasn't always like this. You're the newest member of the team, but you've known Hotch longer than any of them.

You still remember the first time you met him, at eight years old. He was your first real friend at school, and you became inseparable easily. Your shared love for The Beatles and Law and Order made you fast friends, and as you grew older, your interests shifted in tandem.

Sometimes when you look at him, you still see that little boy who knew too much, but still managed to always make you laugh.

***

The team disperses soon after you land in Seattle. You've never had to come up with a profile in one afternoon, but it's also been a long time since your ticking clock to find the victim was just over a day.

When Gideon and Morgan head to the latest crime scene, you join Hotch and Reid to interview the victim's brother. The moment the three of you step into his house, his dog, Sandy, starts barking up a storm.

"It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch smiles, walking over to pet her. "Happens with children, too."

You can't help but smile as well, peering over at Spencer, who looks about as uncomfortable as he usually does.

It doesn't escape your notice that the brother looks looser now. Hotch has a way with people that traces back to his childhood self. He was always wiser than his years, something you chalk up to his need to grow up faster than he should have, but his paternal instinct comes from practically raising his brother, Sean, after his dad's untimely death.

The casual interview reveals enough about the victimology that when you head back to the station, Gideon calls the officers in to explain the profile.

You can feel Morgan's agitation wafting off of him as he watches Gideon state his assumptions with startling clarity and confidence. Hotch, on the other hand, looks contemplative, which reminds you that he's been tasked with the returning agent's evaluation.

He can see your furtive glances in his direction, even as you try to remain secretive about your interest in his demeanor. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling as he thinks about how lucky you are that you went into profiling and not covert operations.

You have never been especially good at keeping your own thoughts or intentions to yourself around him. While some would call that a weakness in this field, he sees it as your greatest strength, because it clearly shows how much he can trust you.

As a kid, you were outspoken about every idea you had, and you used your strength and willpower to look out for him when he needed it. It took him a long time to admit how much he used to need you (maybe too long), but you always knew.

***

Gideon's profile leads to the arrest of Richard Slessman and Tim Vogel, and Elle manages to save the last girl while she's still alive. You catch your breath for the first time in 36 hours as you stand with Hotch in the shipyard, watching the paramedics and local police clear the scene.

"What are you going to tell them?" you ask under your breath as his gaze turns to Gideon, who is getting patched up in the back of an ambulance.

He had goaded the unsub into shooting him instead of the girl, but your mind can't seem to focus on the silver lining.

Hotch sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, as though to hold his coat closed against the breeze. "They want to know if he's fit to be a field agent again."

Normally, you would give him shit for using that tactic. Avoiding a question by providing more information. This time, you know he's just thinking out loud.

"What would you say?" Hotch asks as Morgan walks over and sits on a barrel next to you.

"Gideon saved her life," Derek shrugs, his eyes flashing to you for a moment. "That's good enough for me."

Hotch seems to ponder this for a second. "Do you know what Gideon means in Hebrew?"

"Mighty warrior," Reid interjects, popping in to the conversation with the subtlety of a tiger.

You're confused at first, but then you remember the baby names book that was sitting in Hotch's living room the last time you visited him. "You cannot let Haley name your child Gideon."

Hotch laughs suddenly, and you can tell you surprised it out of him. Your chest warms comfortably as he smiles, his cheeks flushing softly in the chill air.

He looks over at Gideon again, deciding in real time that he's going to recommend him to come back to the team. He would never admit it to you or anyone, but he knows that if your position on the team was in jeopardy from Gideon's return, he wouldn't have been able to complete his evaluation fairly.

It was Hotch who recommended you for the open position after he was promoted into Gideon's role as unit chief. You deserved the spot, of course, but Jeff's death had still been fresh and he knew better than most how much the job can take one's mind off of the other aspects of their life.

While Hotch watches Gideon, you watch him. You can tell from the look on his face that it's a done deal. Jason's coming back to the team. It will be a change of pace for everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't be good.

Having joined the team right after the bombing, you saw exactly how Gideon changed after getting the profile wrong, but so did everyone else. What people didn't talk about was how Aaron changed too. Rising into the rank. Growing to fill the hole that Gideon left in the unit, but somehow also shrinking into himself at the same time, because that's what this job does to you...it takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left to give.

But sometimes that's what you need: to give something up so you know you aren't losing everything.

***

Gideon settles into the team faster than you anticipated, and soon it's almost like he never left. Even though you can see the vein on Morgan's neck pulsate every time he hijacks a profile, you can't help but appreciate the support he gives to Spencer and Elle, both of whom are becoming incredible profilers before your very eyes.

That's also why you find yourself a little worried when Hotch tells you that Reid failed his weapons recertification.

"I thought you said you were helping him practice," you say as the two of you walk past security and toward the bullpen.

"I was," he emphasizes, before correcting himself, "I did. I'm sure he was just nervous."

You nod, pushing open the doors and spotting Reid sitting quietly at his desk. "He can test again in two weeks. He'll be fine."

When Morgan hands him a whistle with a quippy joke, you sigh into your coffee tumbler, but don't bother stepping in. He's being childish, but if you try to intervene, it'll just embarrass Spencer more.

"Okay," JJ starts, "Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon."

She dives into the case, but you have already read the file (and you know Reid has too) so you scoot your chair over to his desk and lean forward so only he can hear you. "I failed my first weapons certification at the bureau too."

Spencer looks up immediately, his face colored with surprise. "Really? You're one of the best shots I know."

You smile with a shrug. "The tests aren't real life. When it comes down to it, I get the job done. Just like you will."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a small smile. You both turn your attention back to the front just as JJ finishes explaining the case details.

"Wheels up in 30."

The flight to Illinois is filled with heated discussions about the bureau's fruitless history of trying to profile long distance serial killers.

"L. D. S. K.s are so rare, we haven't been able to build a standard profile," Hotch explains as the jet reaches cruising altitude.

Gideon chimes in immediately. "Here's what we do know: they're always male, and they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."

Elle looks confused and you echo her sentiment as you lean your hip against her armrest. "To take credit or relive the experience?"

"Both," he says simply. "All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim, contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have."

"Our unsub hasn't contacted anybody," you point out. "What do we do until then?"

"Sometimes it's not what the unsub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do."

Reid glances up from the file in his lap, and you notice that he looks at Gideon first. "He doesn't kill his victims."

"Underkill's a unique signature," Hotch ponders, standing up and walking along the cabin. He only paces when he's deep in thought. "The question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"

The team is silent as you take in this new analysis. You're not surprised when Gideon is the first to speak up. "Specifically, does the unsub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?"

When the plane lands, you check out the last crime scene before spending the day talking to the local police and the victims' surgeons at the nearby hospital.

That night, when you check into your hotel room, the click of the door lock closing behind you is a welcome relief from the tension of the day. Many of the Des Plaines police officers were unhappy with the team's initial assessment, because it heavily implied that the unsub may have been a law enforcement official himself.

You wash your face and change into a tee shirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, before climbing into bed and opening the case file back up again. The rest of the team has also gone to their own rooms, but you can't help but wish you had another set of eyes looking at this with you.

As though reading your mind, a knock thuds on your door and you stand up quickly, in case it's an emergency. When you check the peephole, you see Hotch standing way too close to the door.

Unlocking it slowly so you don't startle him, you open the door to find him in still in a full suit.

"Is there a problem?" you ask immediately. "Do I need to get dressed?"

He shakes his head, glancing around the hallway so quickly that you almost miss it. "I was just looking over the profile and I wanted your opinion on some thoughts I had."

The corner of your mouth twitches and you open the door further to let him in. He doesn't miss a beat as he takes a seat on the armchair in front of your bed and flips open his notepad.

"I was thinking about the bullet we recovered on the scene," he says slowly, like he's thinking through every word he's saying.

You nod, sitting on top of the bed covers and crossing your legs under you. "Garcia called after you left the station. The bullet was a .223 fired from the M-4 variant of the M-16."

"That means he's military," Hotch says, reaching his hand out without taking his eyes off his notepad. You close the case file you had laid out and hand it to him. "M-4 is a shorter barrel than the M-16, so it's less accurate and a lot harder to fire, especially at these distances."

"This level of skill indicates specialized training. That means..."

"It means the underkill was on purpose," Hotch says, finishing your thought. "What is he trying to prove?"

You purse your lips as he sits up in the chair to give himself room to remove his jacket. His pinstriped button-down is slightly crinkled under his arms, but you can tell it was freshly ironed this morning.

"Maybe he's in a fast-paced occupation," you suggest, "which would fit with the profile that he has a big ego."

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

You lean forward, your eyes following his hands as they fidget with his cuffs and undo the buttons, one at a time. You've always been attune to every one of his movements, but maybe it's just because you've spent so much time around him.

"Hotch," you whisper-yell, snagging his attention from your case file, which he tosses back to you.

He hums and you take that as an invitation to continue speaking. "Be careful tomorrow, when you're giving the profile."

One of his eyebrows lifts and you can tell he's holding back a smile. "It's just in front of the Des Planes PD. You'll be there too."

"It's not that," you sigh, shaking your head. "Everything about this profile points to the shooter being either current or former law enforcement. I'd be surprised if they didn't take it personally."

His eyes flit up to yours, his brow furrowing. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Hotch," you say with a breathy laugh. "Doesn't mean I don't still look out for you."

He pauses and it's like his whole body takes a beat. "I know."

***

You're talking to Dr. Landman with Derek, Elle, and Jason the next day when a gunshot rings out through the hospital. Last you checked, Hotch and Reid were in the E.R., but you haven't heard from them since you arrived.

"It's Phillip Dowd," a nurse informs you when you meet with local police outside the closed E.R. door.

After a quick call to Penelope, the profile becomes clear.

"He joined the army at 18," Gideon recites, pacing around the room in a vaguely reminiscent manner, "went to ranger school, did 6 years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it, joined the Arlington P. D."

"You were right," the police captain sighs. "He was a cop."

His hopeless tone is disheartening, and you find yourself upset for not the first time that your team was correct in their assessment.

After the initial commotion, the E.R. is silent except for a few muffled voices. You can't hear what's being said, but the lack of gunshots or loud noises is all that's keeping you from falling apart.

"It'll be okay," you hear whispered from next to you. You turn to see Derek, who presses his shoulder to yours briefly. "Hotch will know what to do."

You know there's nothing you can do from out here, especially with how precarious the situation inside is, but doing nothing has never been your strong suit.

"I know," you tell him, echoing your thoughts. "I just wish we could help."

Derek cocks his head at the S.W.A.T. team readying themselves to break the door down. "We can help. We need to give Hotch and the kid time to wear Dowd down."

His tone is light and you feel yourself laugh, ignoring the thickness that swells in your throat. "That shouldn't take long."

Derek bumps your arm again in a silent extension of comfort, and you mouth a silent thank you.

You can feel Gideon losing patience as he reasons with the captain, but he eventually buys them three minutes to do what they can. When the final five second countdown starts, you unconsciously hold your breath, only to be released when Hotch's voice calls through the door.

"Hold your fire!"

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you squeeze Derek's arm before rushing forward. Hotch stumbles past you with a murmur that sounds obscurely like "help Reid", so you push your way through the throng of civilians moving to escape until you see him.

"Spencer," you gasp, crouching down to help him into a standing position. You would never admit it to him, but ever since he joined the team, he's been something of a little brother to you. "What happened in here? Are you okay?"

"You were right," he says with a surprising steadiness to his voice. "I got the job done."

You don't ask what he means, knowing that Hotch will fill you in when the time is right. Instead, you decide not to fight the vaguely maternal urge rising within you and you pull him into a tight hug. It's more of a quick squeeze, because you don't want to push past his physical boundaries, but he doesn't complain, instead looking over at you with a small smile that's more than enough for now.

***

You find Hotch where the departed ambulance that patched Reid up was parked. All of the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and local police officers and bureau agents comes to a standstill as you walk over to where he's sitting on the edge of the curb.

"I heard what happened," you say as a way to announce your presence. "Can I sit?"

He nods without looking up, and you crouch down next to him, settling on the curb with your shoulder pressed to his. You can feel the tension in his muscles as he grips the sidewalk, his palms digging into the concrete like he could break through if he pressed hard enough. "Reid.."

"..is fine," you whisper, nudging him so he looks up to where Spencer and Jason are chattering excitedly. "He's more proud than anything."

He doesn't say anything, so you bump your knee against his. "I guess all of the physical training classes you made him take at the academy paid off."

He knows you know exactly what is running through his mind, so he doesn't bother trying to articulate it. Instead, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and looks over at you. "Do you remember that self-defense class we took before law school?"

You're not expecting this question, and you almost laugh. "You mean the singular self-defense class you dragged me to before dawn in the summer before we started at Georgetown?"

He levels you with a look that you would think is serious if you didn't know him so well. "You don't regret it, though."

"No," you smile, your eyes blurring with emotion. That's where you met Jeff. "I don't."

He was your instructor that day. He only taught that class twice a week, between lectures at Georgetown Law, and it doesn't escape your mind that you so easily could've missed him. One day earlier or later and you never would've met him, never would've been his girlfriend, or his wife, or his widow.

Hotch remembers meeting him that day too. He had to literally come to your apartment and drag you out of bed to make the seven AM class that he had signed you both up for, and you had been grumpy the whole drive over.

There wasn't much, other than coffee, that could get you alert before eight in the morning, but the moment you walked into that gym, it was like you were wide awake. He spent the rest of the class trying not to look as the man he would later come to know as Agent Adler kept coming over to give you extra pointers, and he pretended that the coil of ice slithering up his spine was there just because he was watching out for you.

When he found out the two of you had started dating, he continued to pretend the nausea rising in his stomach was from the day-old sandwich he had had for lunch, because it wasn't fair. Especially since he was with Haley, and he was happier than he had ever been, even if the new law school course load was making it harder to see her as often as he wanted to.

But eventually, your happiness with him overpowered every protective urge he felt, and he realized that even if there was a feeling in his gut that he didn't recognize when he saw you two together, Jeff was perfectly suited for you.

***

"He's so gorgeous!" JJ coos, her hands twitching at her sides like she's trying not to reach forward and take the baby out of Haley's hands.

She brought Jack, their newborn son, in to work today to show the team, and Hotch looks prouder than you've ever seen him. "Thank you."

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

"Reid!" you chastise, swatting at him. He dodges your hands without even looking.

"Look at his widdy biddy nose," Garcia squeals, before turning to Morgan with an inquisitive look. "Don't you want one of these?"

He just laughs as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Mm, I'll stick to practicing."

"Congratulations," Elle chimes in before returning to Gideon's side to continue discussing the new case that came in. She's always on top of things, and it's something you respect greatly about her.

"Thanks," Hotch smiles, his gaze returning to Jack after looking away for only a moment. Jack is like a siren, the way each of his little sounds or movements holds Hotch's attention so steadily. He's the most focused of all of you, but you've still never seen him this enamored. "She's amazing. I'm a little terrified."

"You're glowing," you tell Haley as the rest of the team heads to the briefing room. "How is it that you had a baby just a few weeks ago?"

"You're sweet," she smiles, before tilting her head forward. "Do you want to hold him? You're practically his aunt."

You gasp quietly, so as not to wake little Jack. "That is a title I will carry proudly. And yes, I would love to hold him."

Haley hands him to you slowly, and you make sure to support his head carefully as you cup your arms around him. He looks so much like Haley that you almost make a joke about Hotch's genes not even putting up a fight, but that nose...that nose has Hotch written all over it.

When you glance back to where the team left from, you see him turn back at the same moment and offer you an encouraging smile.

"How are you holding up?" you ask Haley, barely able to focus on your surroundings with a newborn in your arms. Maybe there is something to the siren thing.

"Jack's been incredible. He barely cries, it's kind of a godsend...but I do wish Aaron could take time off with me."

You give her what you hope is your most comforting smile. "We've been super swamped with cases here, but in all my years working with him, I have never seen him so eager to leave every night."

She laughs, a pretty sound you remember from your youth. "I know. I feel so unfair when I complain about these things, but I appreciate you humoring me."

"Not at all," you assure her, glancing back down at Jack, who is mid-yawn. "I understand completely. If I had one of these little guys, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else."

You hear her breath catch and you open your mouth to reassure her that it's fine, but she is already reaching forward to squeeze your arm. "You and Jeff would have made amazing parents."

When you both joined the bureau, you were so busy with work that kids weren't on your mind at all. It wasn't until you got settled at the BAU, and Jeff found his place with organized crime, that you even started talking about it.

You want kids, don't you?

Only a few. Maybe four or five. Yeah, five's a good number.

"I should get back to the team," you say softly, blinking away the memories.

Haley sees your face and she smiles sadly as she takes Jack back from your arms. "I'll see you soon. Tell him I'm heading home, will you?"

You nod and watch the elevator doors close in front of her, before joining the team.

***

"I can't believe you went bar hopping without me," Derek shakes his head, feigning offense as he leans so far back in his chair you're afraid it may tip over.

"I think hopping is kind of a strong word," you say, glancing over at Elle, who is perched on the edge of your desk. "We only had one bar in mind, but it closed earlier than we thought, so we went somewhere else after."

"This was a much needed girl's night," Elle grins, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he continues to pout. "We'll invite you next time."

"How was your weekend, Dr. Reid?" you ask, turning around to face him.

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

You say his name again, recalling the attention of Derek and Elle, who had started talking about some trip they've been planning for what feels like months.

When he still doesn't look up, you pick up one of the BAU-provided pens on your desk and chuck it at him, just hard enough to bridge the gap between your desks, but not so hard that it hurts on impact.

"Ow!" Spencer yelps anyway, glancing up with a look that's somewhere between confusion and indignation. He picks the pen up off the ground and turns it over to see the tiny insignia on the cap. "This is FBI property."

"How was your weekend, Spencer?" you ask again, ignoring him. "Didn't you say you had some fun stuff planned?"

"I did," he lights up, instantly forgetting about the pen incident. "My local movie theater was showing reruns of the first season of the original Star Trek, so I got to experience it on the big screen."

Derek laughs and walks back over to his desk next to yours. "We have very different definitions of fun weekend plans, kid."

You're about to tell Derek that no one wants to hear what his idea of fun is when the office door upstairs flies open and Hotch and Gideon walk out.

Reid hands you back your pen, and Derek sits up in his chair so fast it's almost comical.

"We have another case," Hotch announces before coming to a stop.

Gideon takes it away. "Our unsub is male, intelligent, organized and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who's been killing for a long time."

"Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore indicating some tie to him."

Hotch turns to you. "You, Elle, and Reid stay on Condore's background with Garcia. The rest of us will head to the crime scene."

You nod before standing up. "Let's go, kids."

Penelope's lair is just as eccentric as you remember it.

"Take a seat," she instructs before logging into her computer and opening up her criminal history database. "Just don't get too comfortable."

Your lips quirk up as Elle flashes her eyes at you, and you nod your head at the empty chair on Garcia's opposite side. Reid is already sitting on a desk chair by the back, spinning in aimless circles as he rattles off a list of markers to search for.

After a minute, Penelope stops typing. "Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes, preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in Fells Point."

You pick up a stress toy shaped like a tomato from one of her shelves and bounce it in your palm, just for something to occupy your hands.

"What about his associates?" Elle asks, grabbing a pen with a pom-pom on the end and poking it at Spencer's knee.

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

Penelope frowns, and looks pointedly at the pen in her hand.

"She's holding the tomato!" Elle complains, throwing a finger at you.

You lift up your hands in surrender, dropping the stress toy. "Thanks a lot, Greenaway."

"Anyway," Reid interrupts, to everyone's surprise, "One of these guys is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet."

Penelope turns back to her computer as Spencer reads over her shoulder. "He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder, was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for, and this is in order, armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rapе."

"What's so interesting about that?"

"When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history? It just isn't probable."

Elle nods in agreement. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes?"

"It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder," you sigh. "It just does not make sense."

***

Hotch calls you into his office when he and Morgan return from Baker's address. You can tell something is off before you even step through the door, so you shut it behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.

"What's going on?" you ask, your eyes glancing over his face to see if his micro-expressions can give you a hint. "What's wrong?"

He looks up with a sigh, his hands clasped on his desk. "Baker's place was an artificial dwelling, and the weapon we recovered on the scene was standard law enforcement issue."

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's trying to say - a few seconds longer than usual - and your breath stutters in your throat. "He was undercover?"

"That's what it looks like," Hotch agrees. "I wanted to inform you before telling the rest of the team."

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

We'll call you as soon as we know more.

The memories start to flood back in and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter before opening them. Hotch looks blurry for a moment until your eyes adjust to the light again.

"Does organized crime know where he is?" you ask, desperately needing to fill the silence.

He looks down at the case file. "We assume so, but it's not like they would tell us. They weren't too happy that we were taking on this case at all, and now we know why."

"Maybe they'll talk to me," you suggest, even though the idea of talking to Josh Cramer makes you taste bile. You haven't seen him since a month after the funeral. It's not for his lack of trying, you just couldn't stomach looking at any of them after what happened. One missed call turned to ten and eventually they stopped trying.

There's a piercing pain behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut for a momentary relief. "It was only supposed to be three months."

Hotch's brow furrows and you don't look up at him just yet. You can already picture his expression, the anguish you know he feels for you whenever you bring up Jeff.

"It was a three month operation," you continue, knowing you won't be able to discuss it later if you stop talking now. "That's all we signed up for. Three months away from me and then he was on leave for the rest of the year, so that we could focus on us again. Maybe even start a family."

Your voice cracks on the last word and you tilt your head down to hide your face. He hates it when you cry, but that's not fair. He knows how important it is to get your emotions out, so they don't pile up inside of you, but if he had his way, you would never have had a reason to cry in the first place.

"I hadn't seen him in over a month when he was..."

He can hear the tightness in your voice and he resists the overwhelming urge to reach his hand out and take yours. You're sitting a foot back from the desk, and it's not he could reach you from here anyway, but his fingers still ache.

"I don't want to blame them, Aaron," you sigh. Your words sound watery, and he pulls a handkerchief out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to you. He's almost surprised when you accept the gesture, pressing the cloth square under your eyes to catch the tears leaking out. You were so self-reliant as a kid, never wanting or needing anyone else's help. "I don't want to blame them, but I do. I can't help it, I just do."

Someone else would have consoled you. They would have assured you that feeling this way was natural, and that no one could blame you for feeling what you do, but that isn't who you two are. "Jeff wouldn't."

His name is like a dagger to your heart. You practically wince as Hotch digs further. "That team was his family, just like we are yours. He wouldn't blame them, not for this. Not for something he chose."

Something he chose. This is why you don't let yourself remember that day. This is why you kept that day - the day you got that horrible call - locked up inside your brain, where not even you could reach it. Because if you let yourself think about it and remember, then you will remember that it wasn't really Cramer or his unit or the bureau that you blamed. It was him.

For choosing to miss his pick-up. For choosing to go undercover. For choosing to join organized crime.

You take a deep breath and re-adjust yourself in the uncomfortable chair Hotch refuses to replace, even though it's literally splitting at the seams. Something about your tax dollars hard at work. "What are you going to do about Baker?"

He lets you change the subject. "We have to contact Agent Cramer before-

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Sorry?" Hotch frowns, both of you standing up immediately.

Cramer doesn't take his eyes off Hotch as he seethes with anger. "I told you, this is my case! You ran my agent through IBIS?"

"Because I wanted to know who he worked for and now that I do, I'd like to talk to him."

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

Hotch looks at you then, and finally Cramer notices your presence. "Y/N...it's been a while."

Your lips press into a thin line. "Almost two years." The anger you've been trying to avoid seeps into your voice against your will and you sigh, returning to the investigation. "How long has Baker been missing?"

"About 12 hours."

"You think he ran?" you ask, watching Cramer closely as his jaw ticks.

"No, Jimmy's too experienced to run without contact."

He realizes his misstep immediately and his shoulders fall. To his credit, he doesn't break eye contact, even as his expression softens. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that I think someone's keeping Jimmy from calling in."

You can feel Aaron looking at you, but you avoid his line of sight. If you're going to have to interact with organized crime, you might as well make yourself useful. "We all want the same thing, Cramer: to get Baker back to his family."

You wait outside as he explains the situation in more detail to Hotch and Gideon, and you're surprised when he's the first to leave. "Can we talk?"

Hotch comes out behind him and raises his eyebrow for a fraction of a second, a check-in. Swallowing thickly, you nod your head and follow him down the hall to the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry I haven't reached out recently," he says as soon as you're out of earshot of the others. "You know Jeff was one of our top guys."

Your eyes shut at his name, as though someone clapped their hands too close to your face. It's almost laughable how sure you were that you were past your grief. You passed the bureau's psych evaluation after your six month leave with flying colors (because your team practically wrote the answers yourselves), and as each new day passed and you weren't so debilitated by just the thought of him, you thought it meant you were fine. Because time heals all wounds. At least it's supposed to.

"I know," you whisper scratchily, before clearing your throat. "I know that. And it's okay. We've all been busy." You look down at the bustling bullpen where his agents are interacting with your team. "Clearly."

Then you remember you're job here in the first place. "We really are just trying to help. It wouldn't hurt to keep us involved."

Cramer sighs and you know he won't refuse. "We'll loop you in."

***

James Baker is found and Vincent Perotta gets taken into custody, but you can still hear the end of the interrogation ringing in your ears.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent.

When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.

And some people grow up to catch them."

You can't pinpoint exactly what you're feeling, but if you had to guess, it would be sorrow. Sorrow for that little boy who got dealt the worst hand you can imagine, and still turned into the best version of who he could've been.

Hotch can't get the interrogation out of his mind either. He had grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the elevators as soon as Perotta was taken away, in the hopes of avoiding everybody. He's about to let out his breath when a hand reaches between the doors and sends them flying open again.

Normally your appearance is a welcome sight, but tonight, he's had enough talking. Perotta took everything he had to give, and then some, and he doesn't know if he has the strength to go through the proceedings again with you.

"I just want to get home," he says as you stand next to him without a word and face the doors. To my family.

You don't say anything as the little fluorescent floor number ticks down - has it always been this slow - and he feels his nerves tighten with agitation. You're never silent, especially not about something like this.

Just before the elevator reaches the second floor, you reach forward and pull the emergency stop button. He whispers your name, half irritated half relieved, and you step in front of him, focusing your eyes on his. It's a classic profiler technique, both to mentally establish trust and to physically block him from the keypad.

"You're a great father, Aaron."

His mind flashes back 25 years, but he squeezes the hand in his pocket into a fist to keep himself from succumbing to the memories. "I'm trying."

He knows what you're doing, and he would normally be open to a healthy exchange between two adults, but tonight he just can't. It's too fresh.

You seem to understand at least a fraction of what he's trying to convey. Your next words are gentle. "That already makes you a thousand times better than him."

That almost makes him smile. "You can say his name, you know."

You shrug, looking at him with a glint in your eye. "Honestly, I don't think I can. I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of ash, with the fury your father instills in me."

That's what gets him. He coughs out a laugh that echoes around the elevator, and you return to his side, giving him a moment to breathe on his own.

This time, when his mind spirals back to his childhood, he's not as equipped to block it. The memories come in flashes, a blackening bruise on his abdomen, a split lip explained away through roughhousing in the backyard, the thin scars on his hands and elbows as he finally started to fight back. He would've taken it all forever if he had to, if it meant that he could keep the horrors away from the people he loved. "I really should go."

"Yeah." You push the emergency stop back into place and the elevator hits the ground floor in no time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hotch."

He steps out, half expecting you to follow him. Instead, the doors close and he's by himself again, and he suddenly can't remember why he wanted to be alone in the first place.

***

When the Keystone Killer is finally caught after 18 years of inactivity, he finds himself expecting for there to be some sort of celebration, either in the form of a commendation, or a much-needed break. Instead, what he gets is a mountain of paperwork.

He usually doesn't mind the paperwork that comes after a long case. It's a helpful way for him to sort through his thoughts on what went down, and to learn from mistakes that were made along the way, whether in the profile or in the capture of the unsub.

Lately, paperwork has felt like an added torture to the long hours he already spends at work. It's not that he wasn't excited about going home before, but ever since Jack was born, he hasn't been able to get out of the office fast enough. But being the unit chief of the BAU has its responsibilities, and this is one of them.

He's drowning in consultation files and case reports when you knock on his door, two coffees in hand.

"Thought that was you," he says, finishing the sentence he was writing.

You frown, setting one steaming cup down on his desk. He hasn't even looked up yet. "How'd you know? Or do you just say that to everyone who walks in here?"

His lip twitches and he puts his pen down. "I could smell the coffee. It always smells the same when you make it."

"Oh?" You weren't aware you had a method. "And how's that?"

"Burnt."

You take the lid off your cup and chuck it at him with surprising accuracy. It would have thwacked him in the forehead if he hadn't swatted it aside with his stupid catlike reflexes.

"What are you working on?" you ask after taking a scalding sip of perfectly brewed coffee.

He looks up for a beat before diving back into the file he was skimming. "Paperwork for the Keystone Killer case."

"But we just finished that," you point out before reaching forward and taking the file out from under his nose.

He huffs. "I was...looking at that."

"This is a report on what happened a couple of hours ago," you say, ignoring his remark. "You can easily do this tomorrow, or later this week."

"It's fresh in my mind now. I don't want to forget any details."

You shrug in a motion that says 'fair enough'. "Or, you could actually go home before midnight for once."

You slide another file off the top of his pile and flip it open, reading over the notes Hotch has scribbled in the margins. He's so meticulous about his job that you almost forget he was promoted just a little over a year ago. He became unit chief at the same time that you joined the team, so you didn't get to see him in his early days, but looking at him now, you almost can't imagine it. It's like he's built for this, for taking responsibility and leading people with kindness and respect.

"Elle said something on the plane today," he says suddenly, jerking you from your thoughts.

You close the file and look up as he runs a hand over his head, pushing his thick hair back just for it to bounce forward again. "She said that she's scared she's going to look up and see that her life has passed her by while she was chasing monsters."

Something cold runs through your veins and you sit up straighter in your chair. "And what did you say?"

"I told her the truth."

You smile in an effort to keep your eyes from shining. "What, that we're all doomed?"

He looks at you candidly. "That this job will eat you up if you let it." Your smile falls and he continues. "You just can't let it."

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

That gets a laugh out of you, even if the good humor doesn't last long. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"This job, while also being a husband, and a father." You sigh, and you can almost feel the weight of the air as it leaves your body. "When I go home, I don't have to be anything to anyone. Most of the time it feels awful, but sometimes, after an especially bad case, I'm almost relieved when I can go home and just check out."

You aren't talking about him anymore, and he can tell. He doesn't mind, if this is what it will take for you to work through your emotions.

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

That surprises him. Not that you wanted to be a mother - he knows that - but that he didn't know you were already thinking about it, especially because of how you grew up. You don't talk about it often, but after losing your mother to a drunk driver when you were ten, you almost transformed into her, becoming the emotional support for your family when there was no one else to fill that role.

You press your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath, your coffee cold and forgotten on the desk in front of you. "We had been talking about it for years, but with the paths our careers were taking, there just wasn't enough time before then." Your eyes look far away, and you don't seem to notice that your lips have unconsciously curved up into a reminiscent smile. "Jeff wanted five kids. Five. God, can you imagine?"

He can, but he doesn't say anything, because he knows you aren't looking for a response. Just for someone to listen.

"I'm an only child," you say with a laugh. "I don't even know what it's like to have one sibling, let alone four." But Jeff had come from a huge family, and he had wanted you to experience that. He loved how full his home always felt growing up, never without someone to talk to. Now you won't ever get to experience that. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we had tried earlier."

"You'll have it someday," Hotch says simply, practically reading your mind. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."

"I waited so long," you whisper, closing your eyes for a long moment. "I was just so afraid that I wouldn't do it right, because I didn't have my mother anymore to help me."

"You would've been a great mother," he assures you, his voice confident. "One day, you will be."

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you clear your throat to keep the tears at bay. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

***

When you push through the doors to the bullpen the next morning, you are greeted by a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Sean?"

He turns around slowly, clearly recognizing your voice, and pulls his lips up into a smile that you return. "Hey, Y/N, how's it going?"

You weren't close to him as a kid, mostly because of the age gap between him and Hotch. You had tried to make more of an effort after graduating college, but Sean was fierce in his convictions, and there were a lot of things he didn't understand about his childhood that you certainly weren't going to explain to him now.

"Good, good," you say, leading him away from the throng of staring women. You shoot them a look that makes them disperse. "You here for your brother? He's upstairs."

He nods, glancing up at the closed office door. You start to lead him to the stairwell when he stops in his tracks and turns to you. "What mood's he in?"

"Why?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "You got bad news? Nothing I need to worry about, I hope."

Sean shakes his head, glancing up at the closed door again. "Nothing like that. I'll just go up."

You let him walk up on his own, knowing he doesn't want you getting involved in whatever he's thinking about. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, the three women return to your side.

"That's Hotch's brother?" Penelope asks, standing so close you can feel her breath on your ear.

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

"What do you mean?" you ask, unconsciously glancing up the stairs. "They're honestly pretty similar." You're only half joking. They don't look anything alike, but that Hotchner brand of righteousness runs deep.

JJ frowns. "I don't see it."

"Yeah, he looks...like that," Penelope murmurs, before looking at you. "Did you know him when you were younger? Was he hot then too?"

You choke on your own spit. "He was nine years old when I left for college, so...no."

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

You look up to see Sean storming down the stairs, Hotch hot on his heels.

"Sean, listen to me."

He turns so fast, you're afraid they're going to crash into each other. "Don't profile me, Aaron."

Sean stomps out of the bullpen while Hotch watches him leave, and you can't get the striking feeling of deja vu out of your head. Two boys, 15 years younger than they are now, standing in the same positions, with the same looks on their faces.

You imagine that you and Hotch probably act the same way around each other as when you first met, at eight years old.

The memory comes easily, even with more than two decades of time standing in the way. The little boy with dark hair who had sat next to you on the school bus, just because there were no other empty seats available that day.

You hadn't said anything for the first few stops, just watched him out of the corner of your eye as he nodded his head unconsciously to the music coming out of his large headphones. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you tapped on his shoulder. "What are you listening to?"

He had taken his headphones off quickly, as though caught in the act. "What?"

You repeated your question before leveling him with a pointed stare that meant 'there is a correct answer'. You were a feisty kid, and you weren't always the best at making first impressions, so his steady response impressed you. "Beatles. Revolver album."

"I love that one!" you had gushed, leaning in closer without a warning to press your ear to one of the speakers on his headphones. "Is this Yellow Submarine?"

He had nodded, the confusion in his eyes slowly transforming into delight. "You know their stuff?"

"Of course. My favorite's Eleanor Rigby."

He had frowned then. "That one's too sad."

You weren't surprised by his opinion. You had yet to find a boy your age who could appreciate serious music, but liking The Beatles was a start, at least.

"I'm Y/N," you had said, extending your hand like you were starting a business meeting.

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

The school bus had stopped at your street then, and you had gotten up without another word to this boy, who would one day become your best friend in the world.

Luckily, the next day, Aaron chose to sit next to you again, this time with a second pair of headphones to attach to his compact cassette deck. Two days turned to three, and before long, you had a new friend.

***

"I can't imagine what two weeks away from this place is gonna feel like," you sigh, packing some essentials into your bag and snapping it shut. "I might actually miss you guys."

"Not me," Morgan grins, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as he zips around you. "Two weeks of pure heaven with nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories."

"Your friend's resort better be as nice as you say it is," Elle says sternly as she wiggles her finger at Derek, who is busy inviting Reid to join their vacation.

"Thanks, but I'm going home," he says quickly, without looking at any of you. "Have a good one, guys."

"I'll head out too," you announce, grabbing your things and following him to the elevators. "Wait up, Spence."

He doesn't seem to hear you, but you slip through the doors just before they close. "You okay?"

"Huh?" he says, finally looking up. "Oh, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the Nevada heat."

You can tell he's lying, but you don't want to press him right before the long break. "You can always call me if you need anything. Seriously."

"Yeah," he nods. "I know."

You wave goodbye to him in the parking lot, and you're back in the silence of your home by the end of the hour.

The rest of your day is spent lazing around the house, and you're asleep when you hear a knock at your door. After Jeff's death, you started keeping your gun in your nightstand, more out of a general sense of security than any specific acute fear, but its proximity during late night calls has given you the peace of mind you needed to finally sleep through the night.

Lifting it from the drawer, you hold it behind your back as you tiptoe to your front door and look through the peephole. When you don't see anyone, you carefully pull the door open, only to find a small packet sitting on your welcome mat with your name scrawled on the top.

After bringing it inside the house and locking the door again, you pry open the seal and extract a large piece of paper covered in a series of numbers and dots.

That's when the phone rings.

***

"How's it going?" you ask Reid and Morgan as you enter the conference room where all of the Fisher King's clues have been laid out. Neither of them have taken their eyes off the paper you brought in since you tacked it up on the board.

As expected, Reid doesn't look up. "The answer to what book we need has to be in here."

"Yeah," Derek sighs, glancing over at you, "but we sure as hell can't see it."

"Yet."

You look at the numbers again, hoping that your short walk to the coffee station and back would have been enough to unlock something new in your brain. Nothing. "The answer has to be based on specific details of each person's clue." A small sound turns your attention to the couch, where Elle is lying on her side. "Is Elle asleep?"

"I'm awake!" she starts, sitting up lethargically.

At the outburst, Hotch walks into the room and points at her bags. "I'm sending you home. You need to get some rest."

"No-"

"We won't do anything without you, I promise."

"Elle, seriously, we're not any closer than we were."

She nods, her lack of sleep seeming to dawn on her as she yawns again.

"Anderson," Hotch calls out, before you stop him. "What is it?"

"I can take her home," you suggest, looking over your shoulder as she lugs her bags down the hall with bleary eyes. He looks like he wants to protest, so you speak up before he has the chance. "She barely knows Anderson. I'll make sure she's settled, and then you can send him to watch her house, so I can come back here."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he sighs, his eyes still trained on Elle's silhouette lingering by the elevator. "We may need you here."

You cock your head at Reid and Morgan, who have been sitting in the same positions for so long, you're surprised their necks haven't locked. "It's like they said. We haven't made any progress in over an hour. I'm not helping here."

He still looks unsure, but you know it's just worry. He'll always worry about you. "Okay, go. Call me in an hour to check-in."

You dip your head in a nod and jog through the bullpen to catch Elle as she's heading out.

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

You laugh, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Something like that."

"Good," Elle says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, "you're much more fun than Anderson."

"Prettier, too."

The car ride to her house starts off silent, but eventually you break your internal promise to let her come to you. "How are you feeling after last night?"

She just shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything. I'm just glad I got to enjoy at least some of my vacation."

"I heard there was blood all over your room," you point out lightly, trying to broach the subject in a delicate manner. "That can't have been fun to wake up to."

"It was all on the outside. That's part of why they weren't able to hold me. That, and Hotch's lawyer chops."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her as you pull over to the sidewalk. "His lawyer chops?" You know he used to be a prosecutor before joining the bureau, but you never got to see his skills in action.

"Yeah," Elle gushes, her face brightening considerably, "you should have seen the way he walked in there. Those beat cops had no idea what hit 'em. He was in full prosecutor mode, went all rainmaker on them until they released me."

You can imagine it. If any of you were in trouble, he wouldn't let anything get between him and your safety. "I wish I could've seen that."

When you put the car in park, you help Elle with her bags and walk her up to her door, where she insists that she'll be fine on her own.

"I promised I would wait with you until another agent could come and relieve me," you emphasize, instinctively scanning the vicinity around her home as she walks inside and drops her things on the floor.

"In about thirty seconds, I'll be passed out on this couch right here," she points at the window seat behind her, "so you'll just be watching me sleep for an hour."

You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off. "Y/N, I'll be fine."

If there's one word to describe Elle, it's stubborn, so you let her shut the door behind her and you walk back to your car. Even if she won't let you sit with her inside, you still can't bring yourself to start the ignition, so you lean your seat back halfway and close your eyes, just for a few moments.

You haven't gotten much sleep either, and you're about to doze off when you hear a loud thud from outside the car. Jerking up, you undo the clasp of your holster and push open the car door. The world is silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind, but you start making your way up the drive, just to be sure. There's another thud, quieter this time, and you reach for your sidearm as you ascend her porch steps. Then comes a gunshot.

You start running.

[mxmmyprentiss]

your ivy grows

Summary: It’s unfair, Emily thought. Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ. And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning. Genre: Angst (with happy ending) Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader ; Jennifer Jareau x reader Warnings: none Word count: 6.6K

A/N: 2 fics in 2 days because my brain is trying to avoid other feelings. Also, this does not follow any canon timeline in the show. All likes, shares and comments are very much encouraged and appreciated. Thank you! Enjoy!

AO3

It all starts when you join the BAU.

You walk past the glass doors and immediately feel eyes on you. Of course, you’re a new face. They have never seen you before. You are instantly intimidated by the suits and the files on the desk and the dark brown eyes staring at you.

“Hello,” A tall raven-haired woman approaches you. The one with dark brown eyes. “Do you need help with something?”

You bow your head a little as a sign of respect. “Hi, I’m here for the unit chief? Agent Aaron Hotchner?”

“Oh, sure. Let me show you to his office. You must be the transferee from the Hostage Rescue Team.” Emily offers her hand for a handshake. “I’m SSA Emily Prentiss.”

You shake her hand firmly and smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“You too.”

When Emily leaves you at Hotch’s office, something in her ribcage hurts and her stomach suddenly feels weird. And when you mouthed a thank you and flashed her a smile that reached your eyes, Emily thought her heart might drop to the floor.

After a short talk with the unit chief, Hotch introduces you to the team. You meet all of them - Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia.

“Where’s JJ?” Hotch asks.

“I’m here, I’m here,” A blonde blue-eyed woman approaches the team. She’s carrying tons of files in her arms. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, communications liaison. Everybody calls me JJ.”

And the way your eyes twinkle as you and JJ shake hands doesn’t get past Emily’s scrutinizing eyes.

Emily has yet to know why but her rib cage might explode because of how fast her heart goes.

---

Your adjustment with the team isn’t easy at all. They have known each other for years and you’re the newcomer after all. But all of them have been kind and welcoming to you so far.

You are partnered with Emily and Derek most of the time. You spend a lot of time sitting at the back of the SUV and listening to them talk about their theories regarding the UnSub, which you have been fond of because you learn a lot from their insights.

Emily has always been considerate of you though. She always asks your opinions which you assume she does so you won’t feel left out or unheard.

“You can always speak your mind, Y/N. You’ll never know what might help our case.” Emily says to you, tapping your shoulder.

“I will try. Thank you, Emily.”

Emily has never loved her name until you said it and Emily knew she’s a goner.

---

It is the first time you accepted an invitation for drinks from your colleagues. It’s not the first time they asked though. If you’re not wrong, this would be the third. 

Spencer was the first person who invited you but you politely turned down the invitation due to your throbbing migraine at that time.

The second time, it was Emily. She told you the team is gathering for dinner and drinks at Rossi's and everyone would love it if you would come. But you feel something’s off. You didn’t deserve to dance with their victory just yet. You haven’t earned it yet. So, you told Emily you can’t make it because you’re meeting your parents that night and you haven’t seen them in a while, which is technically true. (Hint: Your parents died when you were sixteen.)

Tonight though, the third time, JJ approaches you. Her smile is so radiant that the sun would be so jealous.

JJ sits on your desk. “So … we’re betting who could make you say yes to drinks with the team.” JJ speaks faintly, but still just loud enough for the people on the next desks to hear. “I need the cash.”

You snort. “What’s in it for me?” You ask boldly.

Derek wolf-whistles. Spencer watches the scene unravel. And Emily tries to hide a glare by playing minesweeper on her computer.

“Pasta, wine and my eternal gratitude and friendship.” JJ folds her arms. “So, what do you say? We’ll split the cash?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Deal.” You shake JJ’s hand.

Groans are heard and JJ does a mini dance while collecting 20s from her friends. You catch Emily’s quick stare. She’s probably pissed at you for losing the bet.

---

Since that night at Rossi’s, you and JJ start spending more time together, both in the field and at the office. It’s not your fault though. It’s just something that happens. After all, Hotch declares who goes with who.

During your work travels, JJ always chooses you to bunk with her at the hotels you stay at while the others mix and match with their own roommates. Nobody else complains and so you don’t either. You like spending time with her and it’s not so bad when you hear her sleeping soundly at nights that leave you awake.

You and the team are in New Orleans for a case. New Orleans PD has requested the FBI’s help about a series of murders involving several - twelve, so far - white redhead women.

There’s something reserved about JJ’s smile when she approaches a certain policeman you don’t recognize. He introduces himself as William LaMontagne Jr. and you catch the way JJ’s shoulder brush against his multiple times when he discusses the case.

“He and JJ had a thing,” Emily tells you as you both proceed to the crime scene. “On and off, I guess.”

“Oh.” You frown. You don’t know why Emily is telling you this. Maybe you should try being more subtle.

Emily wishes she didn’t tell you this instead because the frown on your face has been more frequent as the days of this unsolved case pass.

---

JJ invites you to a pub near the hotel. The BAU and New Orleans PD just caught the serial killer this morning and somehow, everything feels right again in the city. You happily accept her invitation and put on your coat, walking past the rooms of your colleagues who must already be asleep.

JJ links your arms together the whole time of the walk to the pub. The only time she lets go of you was when you saw a familiar face waiting for her at the counter.

Will.

JJ kisses him on the cheek and he holds her wrist when she places a hand on his chest.

You want to vomit. Must be the acid. But you haven’t had drinks yet?

You go back to your hotel alone that night. JJ and Will dropped you off at the lobby, claiming they will just take a walk around and he promises to bring her back early tomorrow for your flight.

So now, you’re in the hotel lobby watching people pass by.

“Y/N?” Emily calls you. She’s still wearing her clothes from this morning and from the looks of it, she hasn’t slept yet either. Emily sits next to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Just … thinking.” Emily glances at the way you’re clicking your thumb and middle finger. “I’m okay. I just can’t sleep yet.”

“Does JJ know you’re here?”

“She’s with Will.” You respond impassively.

Ah.

Now, Emily knows why you’re here.

“Do you play scrabble?” Emily asks.

“Yeah.”

“I have one in my room.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It’s the first time today that Emily saw you smile without restraint.

---

“So, where are you staying now?” Spencer asks JJ one afternoon in the bullpen.

“Well, that I’m still trying to figure out.” JJ sighs. “I might stay here for the meantime.”

“Here at the office? How are you going to sleep?”

“You can stay at my place.” You offer out of nowhere causing your friends to look at you. “I mean, if you’d like. I have a spare room.”

JJ’s eyes light up. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll help you pack. Whatever you need.”

It happens frequently now - Emily’s heart sinking to her stomach when she thinks about you with someone other than her. She might need to puke later.

Her jaw tightens as she rewrites a finished report. To hell with this paragraph and typo and this ugly font. 

---

The plan is for JJ to stay for three months at your place while her apartment is being renovated. You and the team help her move to your spare room.

You prepare dinner for them and your new roommate. Everyone is taking a look around your place and luckily, you cleaned up yesterday so the house isn’t at all a mess.

Emily joins you and JJ in the kitchen. “Can I help?”

“You can set the table.” You suggest.

“Sure.” Emily washes her hands in the sink. “Where are your plates?”

“The plates are on the drawer beside the fridge, spoon and fork on the next drawer to the left, glasses are next to the water dispenser.” JJ replies.

“You already know your way around here.” Emily states the obvious, trying to mask the pang of jealousy.

“I already slept here a couple of times before.” JJ admits and Emily wants to combust.

“I should have already charged her by the hour for rent.” You joke but Emily doesn’t laugh. She proceeds with setting the table instead.

It takes every ounce of self-control Emily has not to break the plates.

---

You and JJ quickly adapt to living with one another (not together, you cautiously remind yourself). JJ wakes up early and makes coffee. She doesn’t make breakfast though. Caffeine is all she needs in the morning. You, on the other hand, like to cook a little something to start your day.

Since JJ stayed in your apartment, the two of you always arrived at the bureau together. It’s no surprise to the team really. But since you and JJ established that routine, Emily hasn’t smiled much at your arrival to the office like she used to do.

You kind of miss it - being welcomed by a warm smile knowing the day you’re all about to have.

---

“Y/N,” You hear JJ’s voice in the dark. “Y/N.”

Your eyes flutter open and see JJ sitting on the edge of your bed. Even in the dim light, the bags under her eyes are noticeable and her cheeks are flushed.

You sit up. “What’s wrong, JJ?”

“Can I … can I stay with you? Just for tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

Of course, this would be crossing the very thin line of boundaries you have left with her. If she sleeps beside you, she will be near you and if she’s near you, your thoughts will be filled with more of her and that’s … well, that’s just wrong - harboring thoughts about your friend.

But you are yet to learn to say no to Jennifer Jareau.

So you let her crawl to your bed and slip under the covers. You turn your back on her and face the lamp on the bedside table, praying to a God you don’t believe in to let you sleep without JJ running through your mind.

You wake up to an empty space beside you the next morning.

---

The wall comes crashing down when the thin fine line becomes a teeny tiny dot.

It has become a habit now - JJ crawling to your mattress when she’s sad and scared. You don’t get much sleep from that point forward because you feel her snuggling towards you while she’s asleep and the tiny noises she makes rewires your brain. Only for you to wake up early in the morning with a fixed set of pillows and JJ’s scent on the empty side of the bed where she used to lie.

This leads to you having additional caffeine intake every day.

“That’s your fourth cup today. Are you okay?” Emily asks you in the break room.

You massage the back of your neck. “I’m okay, Em. Just haven’t been sleeping very much lately.”

“JJ snores loud?” Emily jokes but the sharp pain in the pit of her stomach says otherwise.

“She doesn't snore.” You say.

And the pain in Emily’s stomach surges into something else entirely. Because how do you know? You have separate rooms. Your rooms are on the opposite sides of your apartment. You don’t sleep next to each other.

Unless …

“You two sleep together?” The crack in Emily’s voice is enough to make you stifle a giggle.

“Not in that way.”

Emily is tempted to ask in what way do you want to sleep with JJ. She’s also tempted to chug a hot freshly brewed cup of coffee to stop herself from further talking about this. She doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t want to know.

“She and Will are fighting a lot lately. She sleeps next to me when she’s sad, which is every night now I guess.”

Emily’s head is spinning and her ears are ringing and maybe her eyes are bleeding? She’s not sure. But it feels a little bit like that.

You watch Emily gulp her scalding hot coffee then spray it to the nearest sink. You rub her back gently, worried she might have burned her tongue.

---

Your apartment feels empty.

JJ flies back and forth to New Orleans during the weekends and weekends are the only days you can stay at your apartment for longer than a night’s sleep.

It’s too quiet now that JJ isn’t around. Your Law and Order marathon is left on its last episode that you two watched. You have no energy to continue it now.

You lie down on the couch and scroll through your phone. The online scrabble app that Emily installed catches your eye and you open it. Emily is online and you invite her to play. It lasted for almost a whole day before Emily calls you up and invites you to dinner at her place.

You accept.

You show up to Emily’s door 30 minutes later, bringing your promised take-out foods. Emily welcomes you into her home. A black cat purrs on your leg.

“Hi, buddy!” You excitedly pet the cat’s head. “Who are you?”

“That’s Sergio. He’s the boss around here.” Emily chuckles.

“Emily Prentiss, how come I didn’t know you’re a cat person?”

She smirks. “I’ll tell Hotch you need to be re-evaluated.”

You roll your eyes. You pick Sergio up and he doesn’t fight. He settles on your shoulder and purrs. “He’s so cute!”

“And expensive to have around.”

“I want a cat.” You blurt out. “I realize I want a cat.”

“You sure? You can’t take him though.” You and Emily share a laugh.

“Not this guy.” You squeeze-hug Sergio and he meows. “He will miss you.”

“Your apartment getting lonely?” Emily senses.

You nod. “JJ hasn’t been around much. I know she’s not going to be around forever, too.” You swallow, glancing to the floor where Sergio just jumped. “She and Will are working things out, I think. She’s flying out to New Orleans every other weekend.”

“JJ must like him a lot then.” Emily watches your lips purse.

“JJ loves him.” You correct her. And in a way, remind yourself of the fact.

Emily’s eyes dart towards your fingers involuntarily clicking. She observes you a lot of times and she knows your little tics by now.

“Let’s eat, Y/N.” Emily ushers you to her living room where the food is already prepared and the TV is already being set up. “What do you want to watch?”

“I want some light comedy if you don’t mind.”

“Modern Family?”

“How do you know?”

Emily recalls the Claire Dunphy Defense Squad button pin on your shoulder bag when you first attend the team gathering at Rossi’s. “Lucky guess.”

It’s halfway through the sitcom’s season when you fall asleep. Emily gazes at your head bobbing up and down as you try to keep yourself awake and failing. She gently cups your cheek and rests your head on her shoulder. Emily thinks you’re waking up when your body moves but you just shift in a more comfortable position which ends up lying your head on her lap and hogging the blanket you’re supposed to share.

Emily lovingly gazes at you, fixing your hair that falls out of place as you sleep.

Emily wishes this moment will stay forever.

You. Her.

Emily never felt more at peace.

---

“I have news.” JJ announces one morning in the kitchen. You are cooking breakfast for yourself and she’s brewing coffee for both of you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Good or bad?”

“I’m not really sure.”

You scrunch your nose. “I’m not a fan of news like that.”

JJ beams. “I’m pregnant!”

And your world stops.

Gravity is pulling you to the ground. Your feet feel heavy.

You almost burn the egg.

“Y/N?”

A tear falls on the pan. Additional salt, I guess.

You turn off the stove and approach JJ with open arms. “I’m so happy for you.” You hug her tightly. “This is good, JJ.”

“It is.” She hugs you back. You don’t let her go for a while until you can control your tears from dropping. “Thank you.”

You blink rapidly, pursed your lips then smile widely. “Congratulations, Jennifer.”

“I have to tell the team.”

“Of course.”

JJ looks so happy and she’s in a glow you have never seen before. You wonder if it’s the pregnancy or the fact that she’s in love.

Regardless, you’re happy she’s happy.

Even if the weird tightening in your chest says otherwise.

---

JJ announces her pregnancy to the BAU 3 days after she told you. Everyone is excited and happy for her. Hugs are happening left and right from the team.

But Emily is looking at you.

And from the corner of your eye, you see her too.

Suddenly, air is not enough. You excuse yourself from the celebration for a minute. You’re suffocating and you need to breathe.

“I knew you’d be here.” Emily’s voice startles you.

You’re sitting in a block on the rooftop. You don’t respond to her and instead, you light a cigarette from your pocket.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

You frown. “Just when I feel like it.”

“You can talk to me, Y/N.”

“She told me 3 days ago, if you’re wondering why I wasn’t surprised.”

“How do you feel?”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

“Because …” Emily pauses. Overwhelming number of scenarios running through her head in a second. “Because you’re my friend.”

You blow smoke into the wind. Emily smells it.

“That’s what I seem to be to everyone. Just a friend.” You say bitterly. “I mean, I’m not really surprised. I’m basically disposable.”

Emily wants to storm to JJ’s office and she doesn’t care what the hell she’s doing in there, she wants to slap JJ hard; put all the pain you’re going through - because of her - in one hard strike. Sure, JJ is still one of her closest friends and she loves her to death but God -

It’s unfair.

Emily loves you.

If you were ever caught in a crossfire, Emily would come running to protect you in a heartbeat, no questions asked and all orders and protocols be damned. She will gladly take all the bullets for you until she loses her own heartbeat.

Emily loves you.

If anyone ever spoke of you wrong, Emily will be there to defend you with all her might. She will flip tables and look them in the eye and tell them how you're the kindest, most genuine, charming person she’s ever met and they’re lucky to even breathe the same air that you breathe.

Emily loves you.

If you were crying and out of breath, she would drop everything and give you the air she breathes if it means you will be okay.

It’s unfair, Emily thought.

Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ.

And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning.

Emily loves you.

And not just as a friend. Because friends don’t treat friends this way.

Emily wants to tell you how she desperately wants to hold your hand especially when it’s cold so she could warm them up, to kiss your lips every time you bite them and every time you don’t, to hold you close when you need to be held, to arrange your hair when it’s turned into a mess.

But the anger and dejection bubbling in her chest take over instead when she hears how you describe yourself.

“How dare you.” Emily speaks in a monotone voice.

“What?” Your head turns to her, confused.

“How dare you call yourself disposable when all I ever wanted was you!” You are both caught off guard by her sudden outburst. All caution is gone now and Emily takes a deep breath in before continuing in a calmer but more desperate tone, “I see you, Y/N. I see you.”

“Em …”

“I see your fingers click when you’re uncomfortable. I see you watch sitcoms on your phone during breaks and once while Hotch was giving the team another talk. I see you care for others. You gave Garcia a unicorn mug just because it reminded you of her. You bring Morgan homemade lasagna when he told us he misses his mother’s cooking. You bought Reid the book he couldn’t find at the bookstore. You drink Rossi’s wine even when you hate it so he wouldn’t feel bad for offering. You fix Hotch’s ties when it’s messed up. For fuck’s sake, you always give me the last piece of pizza every damn time even when you’re still hungry! I see you talk to the victims’ families with so much love, care, and regret that you couldn’t prevent the crimes. I see your nose scrunch when you smell Morgan’s overwhelming perfume in the car. I see you grinding your teeth when you’re in deep thought.” Emily sighs, running out of breath. “The point is: I see you, Y/N.”

“Em …”

“It’s not your fault you don’t see me that way.” Emily walks out and closes the door behind her. 

You hear the strain in her voice over and over in your head and it almost makes you want to jump over the ledge.

---

The past few days have been awkward to say the least.

Emily is clearly avoiding you. She gets coffee a little later than she used to just so you won’t meet at the break room. She sits far away from you during the briefings. When you were lying on the couch in the jet, she moved to the other end so you would be out of her sight. She doesn’t look you in the eye when you have to talk about the cases.

And truthfully, it hurts.

---

You walk into the bullpen and slouch in your chair. Spencer greets you and tells you about the book he’s reading and a fun fact about its author. You smile in acknowledgement but don’t say anything else.

Your eyes scan the room to look for the woman who sits on the desk in front of you.

“Emily’s in Boston for a conference.” Morgan says when he notices your eyes wandering the bullpen. “She might be gone for a few days.”

“Okay.” You lean back on your chair and open the reports you've been working on since yesterday.

It’s quiet, you realize, when Emily’s not around.

She’s the only one who frequently talks to you even when you’re both busy. She brings you coffee twice a day - one in the morning and one before going home - and she knows just how you like it with two teaspoons of sugar and three teaspoons of cream, not milk. She sends you online game invitations through your personal email so you can play them on your computers when Hotch isn’t looking. She sends you playlists based on your mood after each case.

You let out a deep sigh you have been holding back.

It’s awfully quiet when Emily is not around.

---

JJ moves out of your apartment. Derek and Spencer help her and Will with moving and driving to their new place. Will has relocated to be with JJ. Even from afar, you can sense that they’re happy about starting their family and being with each other.

You are happy for her. JJ deserves the whole world and Will gave it to her.

When they leave, you don’t waste time sitting around. You change your bedsheets and pillowcases and throw them in the washer. You vacuum the bedroom, then the living room and the room JJ stayed in. You wash all the dishes and rearrange everything in the drawers and cabinets. You throw all the leftover food from the fridge. You deep cleaned your entire home.

And it feels good.

You feel an overwhelming liberty when you finally sink in your bed, hugging your pillow, and it no longer smells like JJ.

---

Emily comes back from Boston a week later. It felt like months for you though.

You spot her sitting on Spencer’s desk beside Derek. She’s giving out souvenirs she got from her trip and they laugh about something Spencer said.

As you come near to your desk, Emily hasn’t glanced at you, not even once.

You settle down on your chair and it’s Derek who spins your chair around to face them.

“Emily’s got something for you.” He passes you a couple of button pins and a dark green mug with BOSTON printed on it.

“Thanks.” You say.

“Tell her, not me.” He stands up and squeezes Spencer’s shoulders. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

“Where?” Although confused, Spencer still follows him.

That leaves you and Emily just a desk away from each other.

“How’s Boston?” You finally ask. You couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Uh, the conference?”

“Boston was humid. The conference was boring.” Emily answers. You see her pick her nails and your hand hovers her hand. She instantly stops. “You’ve been busy?”

You shake your head. “It’s honestly refreshing to not have a case for a while. It’s better than finding dead bodies for breakfast.”

“It is.” Emily agrees.

Then, it gets quiet again. Emily is refusing to look you in the eye while you are hopelessly trying to get her to.

You can’t do this anymore.

You can’t stand having Emily so close and tiptoeing around the thing you need to talk to her about.

“I bought scrabble.” You blurt out. You don’t know why you said that.

Emily raises an eyebrow. “You bought  scrabble?”

“Y - yeah. I did.”

“Okay …”

“Do you want to play?” Emily stares at you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just … I’m inviting you. If you’re not busy and have nothing to do, that is. I - I -”

“Y/N, breathe.” Emily chuckles. “Are you inviting me over?”

You exhale loudly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” You puff out your chest to gain some resolve. “Do you want to come over tonight? Uh, 8pm?”

You finally meet her eye to eye. Dark brown orbs meeting yours. You’re instantly weak at how soft and gentle she’s looking at you.

“I’d love that.” Emily replies.

---

You leave work earlier than you’re supposed to. You tell Hotch about needing it for personal time. He didn’t pry and let you go, only reminding you that you need to be early tomorrow.

“You going home?” Derek asks when he bumps into you at the elevator.

“Yes, I might have a date.”

“Might?”

“I’m really not sure what it is. I’ll find out. Gotta go!” You press the elevator button to the basement, walking back and forth inside the elevator.

You haven’t thought this all the way through. What the hell were you thinking asking Emily Prentiss over to your apartment? Your fridge is literally empty aside from your stash of electrolyte drinks.

Then, it clicks. You can think when you shop for food. You need to buy groceries.

---

You end up buying a lot more than you can carry.

When you got everything sorted out, you open your ipad to search for recipes. You’re not entirely sure what Emily would enjoy and frankly, you’re just winging it, hoping that whatever you might end up cooking would be good enough for her.

You lay out the scrabble board on the center table in the living room. You also prepared nachos and homemade salsa dip and laid it next to the board game.

When the doorbell rings, you make a startled jump. You peek at the peephole and see Emily standing outside, hands in the pockets of her coat.

“Hi,” you say as soon as you open the door. “Come in.”

“You have -” Emily brushes her thumb against your cheek to wipe the sauce off your face. She licks her thumb. “Salsa dip?”

“Guilty. Let me get changed. I just finished cooking.”

“Okay.” Emily’s eyes follow you to your room. She laughs lightly when she hears you curse because your foot caught a shoe and stumbled.

---

You and Emily sit across from each other at the dining table.

“This looks delicious, Y/N.”

“Let’s only hope it tastes as delicious as it looks.”

Emily hums in approval upon tasting the shrimp pasta you made. “Are you sure you’re not a chef?” She teases.

“You have homemaderecipes.com to thank for that.” You giggle.

The dinner went better than you could imagine. Emily complimented the dishes you made, hinting that you’re trying to make her gain weight with how many dishes you made just for  tonight. In your defense, you like being prepared and having options in case she has food allergies.

Emily insists on helping you with the dishes and putting the leftovers on tupperwares. You tell her she’s a guest and she didn’t have to. But you know better than to argue with her.

“Did you rearrange your kitchen?” Emily asks after opening every drawer and cabinet trying to figure out where everything goes.

“I did. When JJ moved out.”

Emily doesn’t say anything. She places the last fork on the drawer.

“I cleaned up everything after she left.” You continue. You’re waiting for Emily’s response but it doesn’t come. “I changed the sheets and vacuumed.”

Emily is leaning against the countertop, holding the glass of soda she has yet to drink.

“There’s no trace of her left here.” You say confidently.

“Y/N,” Emily murmurs. “I don’t want to be your rebound.”

Your head snaps fast and you stare at her with terrified eyes. “No, Emily, no.” You move closer to her, just enough to not invade her personal space. “It’s not what I want.”

“Good because neither do I.”

“When JJ left, I cleaned the entire house. I rearranged everything, I’m not even sure where everything goes exactly right now.” Emily listens to you intently. “And I didn’t feel sad when there were no traces of her left behind.”

Emily looks at you with a much softer, more hopeful expression on her face. She hopes that you won’t crush the tiny little hope that she’s holding on to.

“I just felt … free.” You continue. “And when I saw them walking to their car, Will had his hand on her belly and I felt genuinely happy for them.” You start to pace back and forth at the kitchen aisle. “But then, this past week without you, I realized that it’s quiet.”

“Quiet?”

“It was too quiet that I could hear myself and Spencer next to me thinking. And you know how he thinks a lot.” You continue your pace, hands flailing uncontrollably at times. “Then I kept seeing the empty space in your desk.”

“Y/N, you make it sound like I left you.” Emily lets out a scoff.

“I mean, I can’t blame you if you did but the thing is: I see it now.”

“See what?”

“You.”

You stop.

Emily stares.

There’s a long pause and though it may be silent, it isn’t awkward at all. Something shifted in the air, you could feel it.

You speak again, “I see your smile light up the room when I come in to work. You didn’t do it as much when I started arriving with JJ. I didn’t tell you how much I missed it. You have always been so welcoming of me, making sure I’m comfortable. You always ask for my insights when I wasn’t confident to share them with the rest of the team. You always make sure I have water and candies in the backseat when we’re investigating. You saved me that one time a police officer tried to hit on me. You leave aspirin on my table when you see me rubbing my head when I get migraines. You know the little things that mean so much to me.” You sigh, shoulders falling. “I see it now, Emily.”

Emily wipes the tear that fell to her cheek.

You take Emily’s hands and grip them, making sure she feels the intensity of sincerity radiating in your body. “And, I think, by now, it’s a reflex that I’d go looking for you in a room full of people.” You tell her. “I’m sorry it had to take not seeing you to actually see you.”

Emily pulls you into a hug. She wraps her arms around your neck and you hear her sobs. You tighten your arm around her waist, giving everything you had to that hug.

Because this, right here, is an entire universe you’re holding.

You stay like that for what felt like an eternity.

Emily is the first one to pull away. She places a hand on your cheek, caressing your face. “We’re going to do this right.”

“We’ll take it slow.” You agree. “We’ll go on dates.”

She nods. “That we will do, Y/N.”

---

It took a month for you and Emily to memorize where things are in your kitchen. Not only that but she has made herself comfortable knowing where everything is in your apartment.

You learn about hers as well.

She has invited you to her place more than a few times over. Her air freshener smells like lavender. Her lamp lights are always cool and never warm, she says it hurts her eyes. Her bathroom reeks of luxurious bath bombs especially during the weekend. She likes having dark curtains in her bedroom and light ones in the living room.

Emily adores Sergio. She has a whole list of reminders about him - his feeding time, vaccination dates, neuter date, etc. - stuck on the refrigerator door.

Emily also doesn’t have framed pictures of anyone at her place but as of two days ago, she has one on her bedside table - a photograph of you and her sharing ice cream from one of your dates.

---

It takes another month when you tackle Emily, your hands protecting her head before you both fall to the ground. The UnSub was taking a shot at her but you got her just in time. You watch Derek and Hotch go after the UnSub, leaving you and Emily on the muddy ground.

“Em, are you okay?” You muffle under your breath.

“I’m good, I’m good.” Emily sits up and checks on you. Her face instantly turns pale when she sees blood flowing on your left arm. “Y/N, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not that deep.” Emily takes off her FBI vest then her coat. She uses it to put pressure into your wound to stop the bleeding. Curses of different languages leave your lips.

Emily calls an ambulance. She doesn't leave your side on the whole way to the hospital. She waits as the doctor and nurses finish patching you up.

“How’s Y/N?” Hotch asks Emily when he arrives at the hospital with the rest of the team.

“I’m still waiting for an update. She’s still in the ER. Probably getting some stitches.” Emily says, biting a nail.

Spencer puts a hand on Emily’s shoulder to calm her down.

---

The doctor says recovery will take at least two weeks. You wear an arm sling and are stuck at a desk job for the meantime. You don’t hate it. And even if you weren’t a tech genius like Penelope, she is fun and entertaining to be around during case consultations.

But every time the team leaves, your heart sinks knowing Emily might fall into another danger. You worry about all of them, of course, but Emily …

It’s five months later that you’re in the unit chief’s office talking about your budding relationship with a coworker.

Emily has your heart and you will wreak havoc if something happens to her. You wish the universe won’t test you.

---

Emily is sitting on the opposite chair. Hotch is behind his desk.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Hotch tells the both of you. “I’ll have HR send me the files that you need to sign. It won’t be complicated.”

“Are you sure none of us needs to be transferred?” You ask him again, scared that the answer might change.

“I’ll make sure of it. You’re both an asset to this unit and it would be a damn shame if we lose either one of you.”

You and Emily can finally breathe.

“Thank you, sir.” Emily says.

“Thank you. I promise this won’t affect anything, especially work.” You tell your boss.

Hotch nods. “It hasn’t, so far, and we’ve known for months.”

You choke on air upon seeing Hotch’s smug smile.

“You’d literally take a bullet for her, Y/N.”

“Which I told her was stupid and reckless.” Emily adds.

Maybe you and Emily aren’t so subtle after all.

---

It’s a year later when you and Emily are throwing a housewarming party. The team arrives one by one. Spencer brings you an espresso machine. Derek hands Emily a toolkit in all pink; he gets a jab on the shoulder from Emily. You happily accept Penelope’s cheese board set. Hotch sets up the money tree he bought by the door. Rossi brings white and red wine for dinner. Will, JJ and little Henry arrive last. Will is carrying their son on his arm while JJ brings out their gifts.

“I come bearing gifts,” JJ announces.

She bought a lot of healthy and unhealthy snacks for you and Emily but the personalized cushion for Sergio with I Love My Moms embroidered in it is your favorite. You excitedly show it to your cat and he immediately lies on it.

“It’s Sergio approved!” You squeal.

JJ takes a picture of Sergio enjoying her gift.

“Hi, little buddy!” Emily takes Henry to her arms, cooing the little boy. “God, you’re heavy.”

“You’re a big boy now, aren’t you, Henry?” You slightly pinch his cheeks. “What are you feeding this kid? He grows up so fast.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me I will cry.” JJ chuckles.

Everyone gathers on the table. You and Emily have one rule during the dinner though: No Work Talk.

Rossi compliments your pasta and you thank him. Emily opens the red wine that Rossi brought tonight.

The rest of the night goes better than expected. You have no idea why you and Emily were ever nervous about hosting.

When everybody left and everything was cleaned up, you and Emily found yourselves cuddling in your bed. 

Yours and Emily’s bed. 

“I love you,” you whisper against her chest. Your fingers are fidgeting on the button of her pajama shirt.

Emily’s eyes widened. Everything stops and her heart feels like it’s going a hundred miles per hour.

“I know this is the first time I said it,” you say, hearing how fast her heartbeat is going against your ear. “But I have felt it for a long time now.”

Emily pulls you closer to her, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Whatever the future holds, you’ll be fine as long as she’s in it. Everything finally feels good and right in the world.

Because Emily Prentiss loves you.

And you love her.

[wandasfifthwife]

(18+)

when you crawl away, saying it’s “too much” just for them to grab your hips and pull you back until they’ve completely bottomed out again.

ITS SO ATTRACTIVE

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

A FOOL’S LOVE

req: basically r pulled an Emily and died on everyone, just to add to the trauma she died in Emily’s arms because that’s a great start to a Emily Prentiss x fem!r fic right?? So, she not dead really but people don’t know that. Basically Emily’s just missing her more than usual until the Attorney General reveals that y/n had been on a mission and stayed low. Nobody in the team knew about it, in order to make sure there were no distractions at all. Emily basically just doesn’t know how to feel.

WARNING: angst, sad!emily, r is gone for 8 months, reunion, betrayl?, trauma bc it’s Criminal minds, cursing, implied smut, wife!emily

Today marked the anniversary of y/n’s death. In truth, all of the team died a little that day, it was just a matter of how much. For most it took over a month, at least. For Emily..no, she couldn’t get over it.

She found herself at the Shooting range for hours at a time just trying to get her mind off of the hell she was living.

No matter how hard she tried, she experienced the love of her life die in her arms. It haunted her more than anything in her life had. She once told some, “After being assaulted, drugged, and killed in the line of duty, I figured what’s the worst that could happen.”

This. This is the worst.

She could still vividly remember the smell of blood that overloaded her senses, she could hear her own screaming, she tried so hard to stop the bleed but it just kept coming. ———

“no, no, no, no. Baby, stay with me, please!” Emily sobbed, she tried putting as much pressure as she could as she screamed for a medic, someone, anyone to help her.

“Em, hey, look at me..” she said weakly, holding her wife’s face, “Calm down, it’ll be alright” she whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. Blood covered her vest, sirens glared outside, “Help is here, you’re going to be okay! I love you so much, please don’t die on me, I can’t lose you too” Emily held her close and sobbed, she could feel your breathing become shallow. The paramedic swiftly but quickly took y/n away. Leaving Emily soaked in a pool of her own wife’s blood.

———

“Emily? You get that?” JJ asked, holding her arm, the section chief nodded and skimmed through the file. “Okay so, the Attorney General asked us to take a rest from cases and finish up some reports and paper work. We all have a meeting with her back here at 7:00” Emily announced, Shooting up from her chair and walking to her office locking it behind her. Her blind were already shut so she just plopped down on her chair.

She felt a burning in her eyes as she flipped through files. Her breath seemed to get caught in her throat while her vision blurred. Emily gripped her pen, angrily snapping it and throwing it down on te ground the ink splattering on the ground next to her, it was red, reminding her of the blood…so much blood. Affer y/n’s death, she wasn’t really the same, she was the shell of the person she once was. Her temper was shorter and her work hours seemed to add up.

She was almost never home the smell reminding her of y/n and the love she could never have again. But, she came home most weekends wanting to just sleep in her clothes all day. The house wasn’t a mess because she hadnt touched anything since she died that day. But she did get the strength to clean dishes once in a while. But there was never much considering she lived on coffee and granola bars.

Emily stared at the framed photo of her and y/n reminding herself that they never got the chance to start a family. They were thinking about adoption and hopefully raise the kid as their own.

She let out a sob, her head in her hands as she wailed, her throat closing up as she struggled to compose herself.

She couldn’t do this.

No, not without her

The night that y/n passed on was the hardest, she refused to believe she was gone, telling herself that it was just some sick joke. She cursed everything and cried for months blaming herself for not acting quicker. Some people told her to just move on, Emily had lived without her once, she could do it again.

No. She couldn’t just move on. That was before she knew that y/n was the one person that she needed, the one person that she truly wanted. Her heart ached if she was gone from her for even a moment, she couldn’t last a day without giving her a call. At this point she must’ve called her so many times, each time she held onto the hope she would answer. That her sweet voice would be at the other side.

It wasn’t possible to forget her wife, not when she gave her so much to remember. It pained her that she waited for a love that would never comeback, she was pissed at the world and herself.

It should’ve been her instead of y/n that night, she could vividly remember the sound of y/n’s laughter which quickly melted into horrified and pained screams. She could hear the killer’s voice in her ear, he taunted Emily and blindfolded her, letting her only hear the screams of terror as he stabbed her wife. Her y/n.

She could’ve untied the ropes faster, gotten her to sit up off of the floor faster, she could’ve killed him sooner.

Emily clearly recalled y/n telling her to move on and be happy, it was the only thing she asked of her before her passing. How could she ask such a thing?

Emily practically fell in love the moment she saw her, how could she ever feeling the same way about someone else. No one could replace her. Ever.

Thinking back to the memories, she sniffled but smiled a little knowing not all of her was gone.

————

“Oh, Emily this is our new Agent, Y/n Y/l/n” Hotch introduced, letting y/n shake the other woman’s hand, “Hello, it’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard of your case, you’re brilliant” she complimented, drawing a deep blush from the older woman. She stuttered for a second trying to register the words. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you too, I’m Emily Prentiss”

It wasn’t long before the team began to meddle with their blossoming love, JJ, Garcia, and Rossi being the most active with their witty remarks about the two. It wasn’t long before Hotch left and Emily stepped up that they got together.

It was supposed to be a secret, that was until Emily forgot to lock the door mid make out session and Tara happened to walk in.

———

She wiped at her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling like rain. It was close to the meeting and she couldn’t let anyone see her like this. So, she cleaned herself up and stepped out of her office for the first time that day. Tara was the only one in the bullpen, the others, she assumed were out somewhere getting coffee.

“Hey, you been crying again?” The doctor asked, opening her arms up for the other woman. Emily nodded, fighting back the resurfacing tears. “I know it’s the anniversary of her death, Em. If it helps, I’ll come with you to her grave after the meeting” Tara smiled sadly, the team all came in, JJ handing Emily a warm cup. Deep down, they all felt sorry for Emily. They knew how much they loved each other and how much they’ve sacrificed. As 7:00 approached they all filed into the debriefing room, an extra chair was out for the Attorney General, Deborah, and there was an empty chair next to Emily. Y/n’s old chair..

As much as they hate to admit it, they pretend she’s still sitting their with her giddy smile and optimistic nature. “Hello, Agents, I thank you for coming in,” Deborah said with confidence and authority radiating off of her, “As you know, Agent Y/l/n had sadly passed on the field approximately 8 months ago, it has also come to my attention that you are all aware of Project Morning Glory, correct?” They nodded their heads some flinching at the mention of y/n, who they all had tried to not think about all day.

“The Project has been fulfilled and the target has been neutralized. We needed absolutely no distraction for her whatsoever, so I ordered for her to fake her death” Luke was the first to speak out, “what?” He let out a sigh of relief and astonishment, “she’s alive?”

”Yes, Agent Alvez, y/n is very much alive” Everyone was completely and utterly flabbergasted, Emily blocked everyone out the thoughts in her brain being incoherent as she played it all back to the moment she held her wife close, screaming at the Lord above for any kind of help. “I saw her bleeding out, I smelled the blood, I felt her go limp, she’s dead” Emily had refused to believe it, the tears pooling in her eyes for what seemed like the billionth time that day. She had been close to accepting that that she was gone, now this?

“If you have concerns, please, direct them toward me-“ Deborah began but was sharply cut off by a hurting Emily Prentiss. “Concerns? I have concerns, alright! For 8 months my team has been struggling, I’m struggling!” Emily stood up from her seat, her hands gripping the round table. Everyone lowered their heads a bit, even though her wrath hadn’t reached it’s peak yet. “Case after case, do you know what we’ve gone through? The sacrifices? Yes, I have concerns!”

JJ felt tensions rise, as she picked her head up to see Emily spilling tears, “I begged for her to come back. As a shadow, even in a dream. You took my wife from me, you are sick” Emily said through gritted teeth, the Attorney General looked guilty for a moment before smiling at the door.

“Agent Y/l/n, it’s nice to see your face”

Emily frozed, she wasn’t ready, when everyone turned around and cried during the reunion, Emily didn’t turn, the 8 months she had replaying in her head in a constant loop. Her lack of motivation and depressive episodes got worse, she needed y/n and now it seemed like she was just stabbed the in the back.

Nothing could stop this Internal war she was having with herself, she couldn’t believe her ears, it was like she wanted to move but her body refused to. “Emily? Honey?” Y/n called out, her sweet voice a little more tired sounding. Her hair was still the same, assuming she had to maintain an image while being undercover as a secretary to a high-stakes business man. A small cut was above her forehead, her lips were swollen light she had just taken a beating. She had hoped for a more sweet reunion but deep down she knew Emily needed time.

Emily was angered, she couldn’t take the sight of anyone, so instead of getting a sweet kiss and a long hug she stormed out her head full of thoughts she could hardly process, while people tried calling out or going after her, Y/n stopped thme knowing her wife would need time. ——

In her office, Emily knocked her files off the desk with a loud grunt, she slammed her fist down on the desk and yelled cursed as she tore books from the sheleves, and even threw the framed photograph of her and y/n across the room. She rested her herself on the table behind her desk. She sighed, as she felt a cut on her knuckle she brushed it off and sniffled, straightening her blazer when the door opened.

“Emily? I know you might not be ready to talk, I just wanted to let you know I was sorry, I was going to reject the offer but he was gonna go after you, I just…I couldn’t risk that.” Y/n admitted closing the door softly, noticing the room looking like a tornado had hit it, she smiled softly seeing the framed picture and picked it up.

“I mourned you, I lost the one person I loved most in this world, I finally got what I wanted, what I needed. Then, you just got ripped away from me, I couldn’t handle it” Emily sobbed, hurriedly walking over to her wife and sobbed between words, “I couldn’t move on, just thinking about it made me sick, I blamed myself for it everyday, and every night the same nightmare.” The emotional state the Unit Chief was in was overwhleming to say the least, the woman was shaking as she buckled at the knees. “I’m here to stay, for as long as you’ll have me”

“Stay forever then?” She sniffled, kissing her lips softly, the world disappearing around them, right now, it was just Emily and Y/n, no cases, no missions, no death. Just love.

[hotchsreader]

You’re my Last Call

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Hotch had broken up over a month ago. Once he broke up with you, he disappeared, absolutely no contact with you anymore. You didn’t know why, there were no signs he was unhappy until he just broke off everything. Up until a freak accident happens, you thought you had lost the love of your life. What if that was never the case, and he just thought you’d be better off without his sadness?

trigger warning: car accident

read on ao3 here

Now there's blood on the windshield

And there's credit cards on the floor

And I'm crawling out the window of my passenger side door

Your picture's on the dashboard and that's the only thing I saw

You were always first to catch me when I fall

Yeah, I'm sorry you were my last call

- Lyrics from the song 3/13 by Wyatt Flores

Hotch was trying to remind himself of the good days when things felt less heavy and he could have a clear head. These days? Everything felt so heavy that he didn’t know if it was possible not to be stressed out. He had broken up with you weeks ago. Maybe it has been a month already, he was unsure at this point. He knew that his presence was a downer to everyone around him, and you had been too much of a light in the world to let him dull you. He loved you so much, but he knew that letting you go would be the best option for you to succeed.

Everything felt like it was going so slowly. He had left the office about an hour ago and was headed toward the victim's house to do one last walk-through to see if there was anything that the local police had missed. He knew exactly where he was going as he and the team had been there before, so he did not even tell anyone he was going there or put the location in his GPS. He had been paying attention, he wasn't too tired, he had slept pretty well the night before, and nothing but you were on his mind. He looked down at his dashboard, to see the photo of you he kept there. Even though he left, he kept you with him. He always wanted to keep you with him, other than Jack, you were his biggest source of happiness. He had looked down for a split second, but apparently, that was enough time for a far to cross into Hotch’s lane and slammed him into the wall lining the highway.

-

After the car crashed, Hotch couldn’t remember anything until he felt himself on the concrete ground and saw random faces flashing back and forth over the top of him.

“Sir. Is there anyone we can call for you?” They asked hoping to get an answer from the man lying in front of them. They knew there was a strong chance there was a concussion.

Hotch could hardly muster up many words, all he said was your name. Your name and said check the phone.

-

You were at work. Everyone else had started going home, and the law office was closed for the day. There wasn’t any noise as you sat typing your last report on your laptop, it seemed peaceful almost. That was until, your phone started ringing incredibly loud, piercing through the silence.

“Maam. This is Officer Finch. I have a man here by the name of Aaron Hotchner, he was in a car accident. He gave us you to call.”

“Where is he? He is a Federal Agent.”

Before the officer even finished giving you the details of where Aaron was, you had already grabbed all of your things and ran out of the office. By the time you hung up with him, you were only ten minutes away.

Nothing would stop you from getting to him. Nothing that happened between the two of you would make you not rush to his side. He was, and would always be, your person.

When you got there, the first thing you noticed were the lights and the sirens. It brought back so many memories from when Hotch was hurt by Foyet. your heart was pounding in your chest and you just needed to find him to see that he was okay. an officer waved you over, and you saw him lying on the ground. There was a cut across his forehead, and his eyes were grimacing like he was in pain. It was killing you, even though you hadn’t even fully gotten up to him to see him in that kind of condition. He looked almost pitiful. you weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him because of how badly he had hurt you so you stood and talked to the paramedics who said that it was most likely that he had a concussion, but that he was going to be fine he was very lucky. The person had crossed his lane of traffic and when they did, it caused his car to swerve headfirst into the highway wall.

You heard a soft voice call your name. It was very quiet, almost like it was reserved. They didn’t want to be calling your name. They didn’t want you to know that they needed you at this moment. you didn’t know what to do because doing this was wrong to be an emergency contact on a person who had tried so hard to remove you from their life. One day everything was okay, holding hands laughing together, knowing each other’s favorite orders at the coffee shop, to not even a phone call explaining why everything ended with a snap of a finger.

“Yeah, Aaron I’m here,” you said softly in his ear, as you finally walked over to him, kneeling next to him and running your hands through his hair. That was always a small comfort for him when he really needed somebody he loved you running your fingers through his hair.

“ I am so sorry but you were the only person I wanted to be here, I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from right now.” His voice was still very soft, almost like it hurt to speak and he wanted to tell him to stop talking to focus on getting to the hospital, but you also wanted to hear what he had to say. Selfish as it was, you wanted to know why. Why did he end everything? Why did he act like he didn’t exist after two years of a beautiful relationship, why did he call you now he had his whole team that would break down walls to get to him if they knew something was wrong? Why did he call you a person who genuinely couldn’t do anything but be there for him?

“We will talk when you’re able to form a coherent sentence, Aaron, I'm here now and I’m definitely not leaving until I know you’re okay.” You rubbed his face with your hand, and he pressed his face into your palm.

you sat there as they loaded him into the ambulance and asked if you were allowed to ride along. They said yes, considering it was not life-threatening. You could drop your car at a gas station and they would come by and pick you up to take you with him. you did not want to be where you couldn’t see him, but you trusted the paramedics to take care of him for the five minutes he would be out of your line of sight. once you got into your car, you texted the team. You still had all of their phone numbers in case of emergency to let them know what was going on and your phone started ringing off the hook.

“What is going on?” JJ was on the other side of the phone. her voice made you calm down a little bit. The two of you had become very close friends during your relationship with Aaron and even after he had broken up with you JJ always kept in contact.

“They said that a car came into his lane and knocked him into the highway wall. He was conscious and able to talk, and I went with him to the hospital. I have to drop my car off at a gas station so it wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the highway.” You responded, your voice becoming wobbly during your explanation.

She gulped pretty heavily, you knew this was hard for her to hear. as well. “Do you want me to come up? I’m more than willing to come and just be a helping hand for you. I could be the communication between the team to let them know how he’s doing so you don’t have to constantly be on your phone and keep everyone updated. I can do it for you.” She knew how hard this was for you, and that small gesture would be such a relief, and would take so much off your plate that you didn’t even know how to deal with it.

“JJ you mean the world to me. Could you also contact Jessica and let her know what’s going on? I really don’t wanna have to call her even though I love her. This is just so much and I need to check on him and be with him.”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you soon. I love you.” She said you could feel how genuine she was in the last few words. Meeting Aaron was one of the best things that ever happened to you, but meeting her was a close second. You reciprocated and hung up the phone, got to the gas station, got into the ambulance, and off to the hospital you went. You held on to Hotch’s hand the entire time.

-

The next three hours consisted of people running in and out of the hospital room, checking on Hotch, readjusting him, checking his vitals, and it felt like almost complete chaos. The minute JJ got there you could almost cry out of relief. You needed someone else there, to make this seem like less of a fever-induced dream. To bring you back to reality, almost like a shared experience instead of being alone in a hospital room with the love of your life being poked and prodded by hospital staff.

“Hi sweetie,” JJ says as she walks into the room, tears in her eyes as she looks over at Hotch. You know the two of them are close, he always has talked highly of her.

“Hi.” This was the first time you have heard your own voice in hours and it sounded almost foreign to you. It sounded defeated and hurt.

“Why are you here JJ?” This caused you to jump. Hotch had not spoken the entire three hours until JJ walked into the room. Did he just not want to speak to you? If this was the case, why did he ask everyone to call you? You turned your head over to him, a look of hurt running over your face. He noticed immediately and turned his head away from you to look at JJ.

“You know what, I’m going to go call the team, I’ll be back in a minute. You better prepare yourself for Garcia to run in here with balloons in snacks in a few hours Hotch.” She tried to make the atmosphere less tense before she left, but the hurt and anger in you could physically feel it.

You stood up, walked over to Hotch, and put your hand under his chin, and made him look at you. He stared at you for a minute, tears gathering in his eyes as he did and he tried to open his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him get that far.

“Absolutely not, you do not get to speak right now Aaron Hotchner. You do not get to be the first one to speak after what you have put me through in the last few hours. I get to speak first.”

He nodded at you, tears slipping from his eyes.

“You LEFT me with no explanation. You are the love of my life. I would lay down everything I am and will be to make sure you and Jack are safe and happy. I did nothing wrong to deserve to be deserted. I did nothing, Aaron. I love you so much, I will love you until the day I die. Why would you have them call me? Why would you do what you did?” At this point, you were sobbing, and the last few words that came out of your mouth were gargled.

Hotch raised his hand and wiped the tears from your cheek, you wanted to turn away but your brain and arm betrayed you and you raised your hand up to hold his while it was on your face.

“Honey, it had nothing to do with you. You are the most beautiful, loving, caring person in this world.”

“But then why? What was wrong? What happened to us?”

“It was me. I was bringing you down. I was making everything worse. I didn't want to ruin your life with my hurt.” The last few words were barely a whisper.

You looked up, for the first time since this conversation started, and looked at the man in front of you. He was crying, tears falling down the side of his face onto the pillow. He was gripping your hard really hard, the ring on your fingers digging into your skin. He looked pitiful. He was heartbroken, not just because of what currently happened but because of everything going on in his head. You had wished he would’ve told you this a lot sooner. So much hurt could have been prevented if he had just been honest with you. But you knew this man, you knew he would hide things so deeply inside himself if it meant no one else had to get hurt. You knew he would hide things if it meant you would be protected from the harsh realities.

“Aaron. You are and will always be my world. If something is bothering you, I would like to talk about it. I would like to be able to be there for you if you would let me be. Please, just talk to me. Let me be there for you.” You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into your palm. His face was flush from the accident and from the tears. He felt, defeated.

“I don’t want anyone to have to deal with me. Especially not someone who has so much to offer this world. I am just a mess of a man. You were the last person I wanted to call because I do not want you to have to clean up after me.”

“If loving you means I have to be there for everything, every sad day, every hard day, every difficult day, I will be.” You said, running your hands through his hair, his favorite.

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“Too late, I am already too committed.”

“You know, I was looking at my photo of you on my dashboard before it happened.” He turned his head closer to you.

“You have a photo of me in your work car?” You truly didn’t know this.

“Have the moment we started dating. It's a photo of you smiling at work when I came to visit for the first time. You were so excited to show me around to everyone. Your boyfriend is a Unit Chief in the FBI. You were so smiley the entire time, I wanted to remember that happiness on hard days. So in my work car, it sits, it's comforting.”

“Well, we can take more photos.” You sat on the edge of the bed, he sat up and you leaned into him. You were not going anywhere.

“I love you, you know that. I’m sorry for leaving, I just thought I was hurting you more than I was helping. I thought if you knew how bad I was feeling you would feel responsible or that I would hurt you.”

“I love you more than you know.”

-

After the talk, and JJ called the team to let them know the extent of everything going on, you decided to walk with her to get some coffee. Penelope had shown up five minutes after JJ ended the call with tons of goodies for Hotch, and you let her and Derek sit in there with him while you took a break. Hopefully, he would be okay, Derek could handle Penelope and Hotch needed a friend.

The two of you walked along side each other in silence until you got to the elevator. Once you got to the elevator JJ finally spoke up.

“Want to tell me what happened?” She looked at you sideways as she finished the question.

“Actually, yeah. What he said made me a bit worried and I need some more insight into what’s been going on.”

“I’m all ears.”

“He broke up with me because he’s having a hard time mentally. Has he been weird or more restricted at work at all?” You asked the question as you got into the elevator.

“A bit. I thought maybe it was due to the breakup but honestly it’s been going on a few months. I try not to pry because while he is my boss and my friend, i don’t want him to think i don’t trust him.”

“I understand that completely. I knew something was up, but I didn’t think he’d leave me just because he didn’t want to talk about it. I think we’re on the same page now, but i’m not letting this go. I love him too much.”

“He loves you too, trust me. Your photo is in his car, on his phone, in his office. You and Jack are his world. I honestly think he’s just scared.” As you got out of the elevator together she turned and hugged you. knowing you haven’t had one since this all happened. You loved your best friend, and she always knew what you needed.

-

Hotch was in the hospital for a day. They wanted to keep him overnight just for observation, but it turned out everything was okay. He had a concussion and a few cuts on his head but he was going to be fine. you were by his bedside the entire time you slept there you only left to go to the bathroom or if somebody else came and made you go get a cup of coffee. Usually it was JJ or Derek that convinced you to get up, despite Hotch telling you countless times it was okay to go home. You truly just were so happy to have him back you didn’t want to leave him again.

You both had walked to your car so you could drive him home. Jessica was keeping Jack for one more night that way Hotch could settle down at home and make sure that he was okay and you were going to stay with him tonight, because there was no way you were going to let him be alone.

“You know we have to talk about everything, right?” you said the minute you both got into the car.

“Yeah honey, I know.” He reached over and grabbed your hand and squeezed it hard.

“Why did you do this? I know you’re hurting. I would do anything to make you happy and feel loved and appreciated, that’s my goal when i’m with you. I’d do anything for you.”

“That’s the point, I just don’t want you to have to take care of me. I want to be there for you.” He started looking out of the window, like that was going to make his hurt get up and fly away.

“ Now you know a relationship is 50/50, and sometimes on bad days it’s 20/80. We give what we can, my love, and if you’re having a bad day I am more than willing to pick up the slack.” It was your turn to squeeze his hand, to bring him back to reality and remember that you were here, and that you were not going anywhere.

“I am embarrassed.” You looked over at him to see him, start to cry, genuine tears falling from his eyes, the look of defeat and hurt and embarrassment falling over his face. it was the saddest you had ever seen someone look and it absolutely shattered your heart to see him like that.

“Absolutely not,” You pulled over and stopped the car, “you have NO reason to be embarrassed about having a hard time Aaron Hotchner. You have been through more in the past few years than I could ever imagine. I don’t think I would be up walking around if I had gone through what you had been through. I would not be as good of a man as good of a dad as good of a person if I had been through what you had to go through. you give it your all every single day, whether it be as a father or as the leader of a team that saves peoples lives and every single day. you deserve somebody that not only wants to be with you at your best but somebody that will be there for you at your worst and I will be there for you. Always.” You took his face in your hands and turned him to look at you. He was still crying so you wiped his tears with your thumbs, and looked him in the eyes. You leaned in and gave him a big kiss. A kiss to cement everything you just said. So he knew, you were completely serious.

“Okay. I am sorry for what I've done, but for you, I am willing to try. I am willing to accept my downfalls, and lean on you when I need you. And you will never be my last call again, you will always be my first.”

“I better be.”

That got a smile out of him, and a small chuckle. You kissed him again and started the car back up, put it in drive, and took you both home.

[demonicbaby666]

What a way to care

one shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst and smut

Words: 3.3k+

Warnings: SMUT (r receiving), top!Emily, bottom!reader, swearing, dom Emily, overstimulation, arguing and shouting, spanking.

Summary: Emily and y/n had a complicated work relationship. Emily (her boss) doesn’t hide her distain for the younger woman. Every time she feels a sense of pride it seems her boss rips it away and labels it as not good enough.  

A/N- first Emily fic!

Y/n had been working at the BAU for a year, she’d grown immensely close to everyone, except one person. Emily Prentiss, the unit chief. For some reason the woman always gave her the cold shoulder and time after time dismissed her. The worst part of all was she didn’t try to hide it. 

She’d never outwardly done anything to annoy the older woman, nor had she undermined her authority in any shape or form. Usually y/n could take it on the nose and continue with her head held high. Unfortunately, enough was enough and she’d reached her limit during the current case they were working on. 

The raven-haired woman had taken it upon herself to shout at the young woman in front of the whole team. All she’d done was follow orders and went in behind the SWAT team, but apparently it was her fault she’d been shot at. 

It took JJ and Tara interfering for Emily to finally back off. Though before they came the argument got heated and it was the first-time y/n had raised her voice and sworn at her boss, it was safe to say, she’d lost all her composure. After getting patched up by the EMT’s, JJ drove y/n to the hotel and helped drop her stuff in her room. She reassured the blonde she was fine being alone and didn’t really want company. So, JJ reluctantly left. 

As she fell back onto the bed she admired the small bandage on her arm, thankfully the bullet only grazed her arm, though that didn’t seem to matter to Emily. 

“It doesn’t matter whether it was serious or not! You got shot and you need to be more fucking careful!” were the exact words the unit chief used. Y/n winced thinking about the harsh tone Emily used and the blame she irrefutably placed on her. 

She didn’t have a lot of time to process the conversation as three loud knocks came booming from her hotel door. Letting out a sigh she stood up and approached the peephole to see who had the audacity to annoy her now. Black hair came into view and y/n instinctively rolled her eyes. There was no way she had the energy for round two or suffer the consequences of their previous altercation. 

“Can this fucking wait till the morning Prentiss?” The words sassily slipped from her lips before she knew what she had even said. Her hand came up over her mouth as the realisation of what she’d said dawned on her. 

“I’m going to let that slip, just open the door y/l/n,” there was a small pause, “please.” 

Y/n was too taken back by the sudden pleasantry that she reached out to unlock the door, not bothering to open it herself. Emily opened the door and walked in as y/n made her way to the couch to sit down, zero effort was made to acknowledge the older woman who was now leaning against the wall in front of her. 

She started to play with a loose string on the sofa, finding it very intriguing all of a sudden. The silence was becoming uncomfortable, but she wasn’t about to say shit, not after the way Emily treated her. She was the one who wanted to come in for some reason, whatever that reason was she couldn’t care less. That was Emily’s problem. 

“About today…” Emily started. Y/n glared up at the older woman through her lashes, blank faced. She raised her eyebrows and blinked a couple times waiting for Emily to continue. “You shouldn’t have gone in like you did.” 

Y/n clenched her jaw, if this was going to happen, if Emily was going to repeat the same bullshit she pulled earlier, the young woman would be beyond pissed. The thought alone was causing her blood to boil. She flared her nostrils, and finally raised her head to fully give the woman all her attention. She made sure not to mask any emotions boiling to the surface like she usually did, because this would not be like the other times, she wouldn’t let it. 

Emily seemed a little taken back by the murderous look she was receiving, her body tensed, and she was fighting back the urge to go into defence mode. She knew she had to skip to the point, an apology was in order, whether or not she wanted to apologise was another issue entirely. JJ and Tara had hammered it into her head she was out of order, no matter how frustrated she got, she had no right to take it out on y/n. 

The young woman remained quiet, refusing to open her mouth. It seemed like Emily was baiting her and she wasn’t having any of it. Emily knew this too and it was driving her crazy, the look she was receiving wasn’t enough, she’d tried to deny it, but the fire she saw in y/n earlier had ignited something in her and she wanted to feel it again. Though it seemed she’d have to settle and get the apology out of the way. 

“I’m sorry okay?” she spat out, it wasn’t aggressive but it most certainly was not heartfelt or touching. It was empty and forced and both women knew it. 

Y/n shot up to her feet, the pathetic excuse of an apology enraged her, anger coursed through her veins, and she didn’t have the willpower to hold back any longer. 

“Are you fucking joking?” the younger woman’s face was contorted, her eyebrows furrowed as she seethed through her teeth. “You’re ‘sorry’? For what Emily? Treating me like shit, or embarrassing me in front of the team, or wait maybe making me feel small every opportunity you have? Please elaborate I’m dying to know?” her voice was dripping with sarcasm and pure unfiltered rage. 

At first Emily was shocked, but slowly the feelings from earlier arose once again and a smirk crept onto her face, only further angering the y/n. 

“You think this is fucking funny? If this is your attempt at an apology you can just leave.” Tears were springing to life in her eyes as she began to walk to the door. It was then she felt a hand on her arm, preventing her from moving any further. She turned back around, and their eyes met, y/n looked into Emily���s chocolate brown eyes and watched as they softened. 

The hand relaxed a little but stayed on y/n’s upper arm, near her bandage, Emily’s other hand came to her face, a finger wiped away a stray tear on her cheek. She felt her whole body relax and tingle, a weird sensation came from where Emily’s hand was. Not knowing what the hell was happening to her, she shrugged off the hand on her arm and stepped away from the older woman. 

“I said you can leave.” She stood her ground; it was her way or the highway. If Emily was going to apologise it would be done right or not at all. 

Emily clenched her jaw and took a deep breath in and out of her nose, squaring her shoulders. She locked her eyes firmly onto y/n. 

“You’re right, I’ve treated you differently. Yes, I’ve been harsh but it was for your own go-” she was cut off before she could continue. 

“For my own good?” her voice was a little louder than expected, unfortunately for everyone else in the hotel she could give less of a shit. “Come on let’s stop pretending, you hate me Prentiss. How is you treating me like shit and giving me hell, for my own good?” 

Emily visibly flinched at the statement, of course she knew she was a little harder on y/n but hate? Had she let it get that far that that’s what the young woman thought. 

She stepped forward so there was now a small amount of space between the two of them, “I don’t hate you y/n.” she said sighing. “I push you because I know you can do more, because you hold yourself back. What happened today was too much and I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see anything happen to you and today, today you came close.” Her voice got quieter, and the last sentence could have easily been missed. 

Both women seemed taken back by the honestly displayed. The atmosphere in the room quickly changed, all that could be heard were the light breaths from y/n and Emily. The arguing seemed to have exerted them more than they knew as they both tried to steady their breathing. 

Their eyes frantically searched one another’s, y/n was looking to find any hint of dishonesty, she couldn’t tell whether she was relieved, happy or angry to only discover sincerity held in the brown iris’s. 

“Why-why do you care?” it came out in barely a whisper, Emily heard, nonetheless. Taking a step forward again she closed the space between the two and rested her hands on the younger woman’s waist. Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat, unsure how to feel about the sudden tender contact. Not being able to take the feeling of Emily’s eyes burning into her she looked at the floor, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. 

When a hand was removed from her waist, she couldn’t help but miss the contact, that was until the hand seemingly found its way to her chin. Light pressure was applied as Emily lifted her head to meet her gaze once again. 

“Why do you think y/n?” she breathed out. 

There was nothing to be said, at least nothing y/n could think of. If she was honest with herself, she had no idea why Emily would care. This whole situation was rendering her speechless; a couple hours ago she was convinced her boss hated her and was out to get her. But now, now things were unclear, and it seemed she had read the whole situation wrong. In some weird fucked up way Emily wanted the best for her. To make sure she excelled at her job and made no mistakes, it was a way of keeping her safe on the job. What it was, was confusing as hell. 

She let herself fully relax into the older woman, “You’re confusing as hell Prentiss.” She said helplessly. 

Emily pulled her in closer so y/n could rest her head against hers. “I barely understand myself sometimes. All I know is seeing you today, not knowing what happened after the shots were fired, it scared me. Maybe I haven’t shown it in the best way, but I do care.”

“You, Emily Prentiss, have a really fucked up way of showing you care.” Y/n smirked playfully, that’s when she felt her ass being spanked. Pain coursed through her veins, and she half whimpered half moaned at the contact, pain quickly subsided into waves of pleasure. 

Emily cocked an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t swear. It doesn’t suit you.” She tightly gripped y/n’s waist with both hands and started walking forward, forcing her to back up towards the bed. “Maybe I need to teach you another lesson?”

The older woman smiled victoriously when y/n began to slowly nod, the submission she displayed was turning her on and she needed more, to see her underneath her, to see her begging. Y/n felt the back of her knees hit the bed, but the pushing didn’t halt causing her to fall back onto the bed. Emily subsequently climbed on top of her as the two moved further up the bed. 

Looking into the eyes of her boss, y/n saw the brown of Emily’s eyes were almost eclipsed by the blacks of her pupils, her eyes were filled with pure lust and wanting. Both set of eyes darted between lips and eyes, y/n felt her tongue slip out of her mouth to wet her lips that were suddenly receiving so much attention. The two hands on either side of her head now bent and she felt soft black hair tickle her exposed shoulders. 

Lips came crashing on hers, the kiss was far from soft and was quickly becoming more and more heated as they both started fighting for control. Hands were felt on Emily’s waist pulling her body closer to y/n’s, which she allowed. Y/n’s felt teeth lightly grip her bottom lip and let a soft moan out. 

Emily took this opportunity to slip her tongue through the parted lips, swirling it around and tracing the roof of the young woman’s mouth. Y/n’s hands came up from Emily’s waist to fiddle with her blouse buttons.

Emily pulled her lips away sensing the frustration building up in the woman under her. She pulled the shirt over her head and lowered herself back down, this time her lips connected with the soft skin of y/n’s neck. She ran her tongue along the area, kissing and nibbling, stopping when one area seemed to have more of an effect. 

Y/n’s neck arched, her head pressing into the pillow under her as Emily nibbled and sucked on her sweet spot, not for a second caring if she left a mark. Her soul focus was revelling in the pleasure coursing through her veins and pulsating between her thighs. 

A hand was removed from beside her head and began to play with the hem of her tank top, which she quickly pulled off. When the lips were removed from her neck, she couldn’t help but drink up the view of Emily straddling her in only a bra and jeans. 

Hands ran up and down the raven-haired woman’s torso and y/n slipped a hand under her lacy black bra, cupping one of her breasts in her hands, tenderly fondling it. She locked her lips onto Emily’s exposed neck and kissed down to her chest, moving her other hand to the back of the bra and easily unclasping it and taking a hardened nipple into her mouth. 

She was harshly pushed back onto the bed as her bra was yanked over her head and thrown somewhere on the hotel floor. She felt her trousers being taken off and raised her hips to assist, a breath of warm air was felt by her ear as she heard Emily whisper “Good girl.” 

Y/n laid there exposed in only her underwear, everything was telling her to cover herself, but she did nothing of such, the want for Emily to see all of her was overpowering. She found her hands on the buckle to Emily’s off centred belt and she began fumbling to take it off. The second the belt was taken off, y/n got to work on Emily’s jeans. 

Within seconds of the jeans being flung somewhere in the room, Emily was back on top of y/n pinning her arms down over her head. The feeling of Emily’s soft skin brushing directly against her own sent sparks flying through ever nerve in her body. 

Lips pressed against one of y/n’s nipples taking the bud into her mouth sucking and teething lightly. The heat growing between y/n's legs was becoming unbearable and she was ready to beg for more but didn’t want to give in just yet. 

The moment she felt a knee between her legs, the younger woman began to grind against it needed some release. She felt Emily smirk against her nipple, “patience.” She purred. 

She removed her hands from y/n and slowly kissed down her stomach until she reached her panties, gripping onto them with her teeth, she tugged them down. The young woman looks down to see Emily coming face to face with her dripping cunt, she watched as her boss’s lip wedged itself between her teeth hungrily. 

One finger ran through her folds causing her hips to buck up at the contact, she wanted more. “Please.”

“Say it again.”

“Please.”

The finger moved up to her clit but teasingly moved away causing y/n to become more and more frustrated. 

“Say my name.”

“Please Emily.” 

And with that, two fingers plunged into her and she moaned out Emily’s name without quite realising what she’d said. But hearing her name fall from y/n’s lips only incentivized Emily. She brought her lips to y/n’s clit and began to move her tongue in circular motions, alternating between sucking, nibbling and licking. 

The immense pleasure y/n felt surging through her veins was immeasurable and overwhelming, but she relished every second of it. Just when she thought she could stay quiet the fingers inside her curled and pumped harder and faster continuously hitting her g spot over and over. 

“Oh fuck Emily.” She half moaned half screamed out. 

The fingers stopped pumping as fast and y/n could have cried out for more, that was before a slap came full force to her ass, causing her to yelp out. 

“Don’t swear.” Emily mumbled against her clit. 

“I won’t, I’m sorry, please don’t stop.” y/n begged, and it was music to the raven-haired woman’s ears. She picked her pace back up and the feeling of being at Emily’s will was pushing y/n closer and closer to her orgasm. Her body was convulsing as pleasure pulsated through her veins. 

Continuous moans passed through her lips progressively getting louder the closer she got to her sweet release. The expert tongue on her clit got faster and faster. When Emily trusts got even harder y/n felt herself fall apart, her legs began to shake uncontrollably. Her whole body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over her whole body and she cried out in ecstasy. 

“Emily, Emily, EMILY.” 

But she didn’t stop, Emily kept her unrelenting pace and y/n was fighting against her whole body as she felt a second orgasm coming despite not being finished with her first. She grabbed a fistful of Emily’s dark hair not sure whether she was pulling her away or pushing her to keep going. The only thing she knew was she was putty in Emily’s hands, or in this case fingers and they weren’t going to stop until she was spent. 

At this point volume control was thrown out the window as y/n was screaming out gibberish, her moans could most likely be heard from outside the hotel room but neither women cared.

The tightening grip on her hair only motivated Emily to keep going as her jaw became sore and her fingers were stiff. 

It all paid off when y/n’s back arched off the bed, her walls gripped Emily’s fingers and a throaty groan was heard from all corners of the room. Emily slowed down until she felt y/n dug her away, even the smallest touch would have sent her into a third unprovoked orgasm and y/n felt like she may pass out if that happened.

She picked her head up to see Emily wiping her mouth with the back of her hand smirking as she took in the sight of y/n laid on the bed completely exhausted, trying to catch her breath.

Y/n saw the lust in those darkened eyes, she wanted to give her more and more, but stars appeared in her vision, and she couldn’t stop her legs from shaking. Just the feel of Emily's drenched fingers sliding out of her caused her to whimper.

Emily kissed her way back up to y/n’s lips and laid the softest kiss on the swollen lips, laying herself next to her she moved pieces of stray hairs away from y/n’s sweaty forehead and used her other hand to run fingers up and down the young woman’s stomach. 

Instinctively y/n closed her eyes and hummed into the comfort of Emily’s touch. When she opened her eyes and tried to sit up, Emily pushed her back down and she shot her a confused look. 

“It’s your turn.” She tiredly pleaded. 

Emily wrapped her arm around y/n’s shoulder and pulled her in, her head now lying on her exposed chest. She placed a soft kiss to her forehead and started tracing shapes onto her back whilst y/n did the same on her chest. 

And that’s how they fell asleep, wrapped into each other and somewhere between falling asleep one phrase fell from y/n’s lips. “You, Emily Prentiss, have a really fucked up way of showing you care, but I’m glad you do.” 

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[ssahoodrathotchner]

Comfort

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: on the plane back from Alaska, you and Penelope tease Aaron and Derek

Word Count: 900 words

Warnings: fluff, discussion of the Alaska episode, stealing Aaron’s quarter zip

A/N: this team needs to tell each other they love each other more often smh . I started this fic in November of 2020 !! it’s taken me over two years to get it done !! holy shit !!

Masterlist

---

The case in Alaska had been rough. On the return flight home, Emily and JJ quickly claim the couch, a soft blanket thrown over their laps as they talk no louder than a whisper. Rossi and Reid sit across from each other in the back, a glass of scotch in the hand of one, a book in the other’s, as they unwind in their own ways. You and Aaron sit across from Penelope and Derek at the larger table. Tucked under Aaron’s arm, you mirror the friends opposite from you. One of your hands stretched across the table between you to grasp one of hers and provide silent comfort.

Before getting on the jet, you had commandeered Aaron’s quarter zip for your own use—you were cold, what can you say—although it didn’t hurt that you love the way it fell over your body and smelled like him. Leaning further into his side, you look at the case report he was dutifully filling out.

He never stops, does he?

Stifling a yawn, you settle in for a long flight back home. You had a book in your bag somewhere, but you didn’t want to move; not with Penelope’s hand in yours and Aaron’s arm around you, safe. Shifting a bit more to get comfortable enough for a nap, Aaron sets down his pen to stare down at you, eyebrows raised, amused smirk on his lips.

“Sweetheart,” he says, only a little exasperated with your movement.

“Hmm?” you answer, feigning obliviousness to just how much you’re disturbing him.

He sighs and rolls his eyes before turning you slightly and then locking his arm around your shoulders and then pulling you into him with your head resting more comfortably against his chest.

“Better?” he asks with a small but knowing smile.

“I guess,” you say, scrunching your nose.

Aaron leans down to kiss the top of your head before once again picking up his pen and continuing to do paperwork. Your hand hasn’t left Penelope’s and so you turn your attention there; gently moving your thumb back and forth across her knuckles, tracing random patterns, and just squeezing it as you think.

Sinking further into Aaron—and his incredibly warm quarter zip—you reflect on the case. The fact that it was a teenager killing all the townspeople—even his best friend’s mother—was unsettling, to say the least. Suppressing a shiver, you move to lace Garcia’s fingers with your own, which she reciprocates with a squeeze, continuing to watch a movie on her laptop with Derek.

Penelope. Kind, strong, brilliant Penelope who sat with a man in his last moments, alone in the dark, because she didn’t want him to be alone. Penelope who took time to compose herself before coming back with renewed energy, determined to catch the unsub with mascara tears still on her cheeks. And you wouldn’t have been able to do it without her.

“Hey,” you say softly, tugging on her hand to get her attention. “Pen. Penelope”

She turns to look at you, making a show of looking away from the movie, which makes Derek smirk at her antics.

“Yes, my brilliant beloved agent?” she responds with a smile.

“I love you,” you say earnestly, squeezing her hand. “I love you and we couldn’t function without you.”

Her gaze softens, and you can see the tears that seemingly spring to her eyes.

“Hey,” she starts softly, “I love you too.”

“And you,” you assert, turning to Derek, “I love you.”

He smiles and huffs a laugh, “Right back at you, Princess.”

“You too, Hotch!” Penelope grins, looking to where Aaron is valiantly trying to hide his smile.

“Yeah, Hotch,” you tease, leaning into him more, “We love you too.”

Derek laughs at this point, pulling your attention to him.

“What,” you ask playfully, “Don’t you love Hotch, Morgan?”

This makes him laugh louder, Penelope joining in as you smile so hard your face hurts.

Aaron turns his attention to Morgan, schooling his expression into his usual stoic mask.

“I love you, Derek,” he states seriously, as you and Penelope burst into giggles.

Morgan quickly catches on, making his own faux-serious face, as he reaches across the table to take Aaron’s hand.

“And I love you, Hotch,” he says, matching Aaron’s tone.

You and Penelope are gasping now, the hilarity of the situation at hand mixing with the absolute devastation of the case you finished. You can feel the eyes of the rest of the team on you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’ve found that taking moments of levity where you can is essential to not breaking down 24/7 given that your job routinely shows you to the worst parts of human behavior.

“And I love you!” Penelope sing-songs, looking over at Spencer, “And you, and you, and you, and you!” she continues, looking at each member of the team.

You fall into laughter with the rest of the team, as you all give in to Penelope’s contagious adoration.

Aaron drops a kiss on the top of your head and you reach to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw in return, watching as the stress of the case seems to melt away from everyone.

Leaning further into Aaron’s embrace, you close your eyes, reveling in the pleasant atmosphere that’s permeated the plane.

No matter what, with these people by your side, you know you’ll be okay.

---

Taglist: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @averyhotchner @prentisswrites @mylovelysnowflake @hqtchner @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @emlynblack @clarawatson @andromedasstarship @madamsnape921 @mac99martin @midsummernightdream @itsmytimetoodream @homoose @whosscruffylooking @agentaaronhotass @thenewnormalforensicator  @myloveofcmreid @ssahotchie @romanogersendgame

[spexialvixtimxunit]

How I think Criminal Minds characters would react to you eating too much candy on Halloween

Pairing: All CM Characters x Black!Afab!Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Length: Medium

Masterlist

*there are writing mistakes in my works, I don’t proofread!

A/n : I now write for Chicago Fire! So with that being said, you can dm me if you have a request for SVU, CM, Chicago Fire! 🫶🏾

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|| Emily Prentiss ||

Emily would come back to her office just to see you slumped on the couch because if the candy coma you got into after passing out candy to everyone and then leaving a shit ton to yourself. She laughed at you that all the candy wrappers were mostly left in the bag of candy. She took the bag and locked it up in one of her drawers in her desk who that you couldn’t cause anymore destruction.

-

|| Jennifer Jareau ||

JJ found you in the kitchen at the island with your head down, groaning with all the candy wrappers around you on the table, along with all the open cases files and a bucket of candy almost empty. She laughed as you reached for one more, maybe using the candy for a rush was not the trick. JJ grabbed the bucket of candy and hid it from you and most definitely the boys too.

-

|| Penelope Garcia ||

You both wanted to have a contest to see who can eat the most candy in ten minutes, and for obvious reasons it wasn’t the smartest idea. You ended up needing to go home because you couldn’t sit up from your chair, your stomach hurt that bad. Penelope was laughing at you as you held your stomach, crunched over. She was still eating the candy.

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[forhappysake]

[abbyromanoff]

CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST:

WHO I WILL WRITE FOR: Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau

Chokehold (smut, dark!!) EP

You’re Back, But It’s Too Late (smut, angst) EP

Keep Quiet (smut)

I Know What I Want, And It’s You (angst, fluff) EP

[greencways]

WRONG PERSON WRONG TIME

Jennifer Jareau x reader , Emily Prentiss x reader

wc - 1339

TW // SO MUCH ANGSSTTT!!! slight smut at the start if you squint, curse words, alcohol

A/N - tbh I’m going through all my requests and drafts which is why there are lots of my fics coming out tonight but there probably won’t be as much as this for a small while ! also it’s important to note at the end of this fic jj and reader are broken up with ! when she goes over Emily’s house; reader and JJ are NOT together

"You're such a bitch" JJ scowled.

"Real cute JJ" you scoffed.

"I hate you" JJ seethed.

"Oh my God are we really doing this here" you slung your arm back as you were arguing in the middle of the bullpen.

"Yeah" JJ sighed "Yeah we are cause you sure as hell don't listen to me anywhere else" JJ smirked.

"Oh you're really gonna play the whole 'I'm in the Unit Chief and I think I'm better then everyone else' card" you scoffed.

"Well you didn't get the job did you?" JJ laughed.

"Fuck you" you crossed your arms and snickered.

"You wish" JJ laughed in your face.

"JJ your office I need a word with you" you narrowed your eyes waiting for her to go.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" you shouted as the door to her office shut "Ever since you got this job you're a whole new person and I don't like, I miss the old JJ, the JJ who actually cared about other people's feelings, especially her girlfriend's ones at that" you scoffed running your hands through your hair.

"Baby-" JJ started as she sat on the couch her hand slowly making her way up her thigh as she started leaning back and bucking her hips up.

"No Jay we're not doing this right now I'm so mad at you" you seethed.

"Just come here" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You scanned her up and down and gave in and sat on her lap facing towards her, your knees tucked into the sides of the couch.

"You miss me too much" JJ laughed as she started kissing your neck.

"Stop talking" you said "kiss me" you said.

"I am kissing you" she said her lips attached to your neck.

"No on my lips" you sighed.

"What was that?" JJ mocked.

"Kiss me on my lips please" you sighed

"Because you begged so nicely I will" JJ smiled "you're so pretty like this you know" JJ smirked in the middle of your kiss.

"I know" you smiled tucking her hair behind her ear, your lips still attached to hers.

A couple of minutes later after you finished making out, you were still on her lap facing her with your knees sunk into the couch "can we talk about this?" you sighed sadly.

"About what baby?" JJ smiled tucking your hair behind your ears.

"About us, I mean we argue all the time and we solve nothing by doing this" you gestured to your current position.

"I know" JJ smiled sadly again.

"Jennifer I can't keep doing this, I'm sorry" you shuffled backwards to get off her lap.

"No wait we can fix this, I know we can" JJ begged as you stood up over her.

"We can't Jay and you know it" you bent down to kiss her forehead "I'm sorry, not this time" tears escaping and quickly.

"Y/N wait" JJ begged as she stood up reaching out for you.

"It's best if we aren't together any more JJ" you turned around sadly to face her as you cupped her cheek with your hand.

"Can I do something that'll change it?" JJ breathed out quickly "I can change" her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't want you to ever change Jay" tears streaming down your face.

"Jennifer, I will always love you, always" you hugged her tightly "We're just not good together, I'm sorry" your head becoming dizzy with the fact that you were actually doing this.

"I need you" JJ whispered.

"You don't need me" you chucked slightly through your sobs "you're the most badass person I know" you both chuckled "you'll be fine, I promise" you paused "and I don't make those lightly"

"I love you" JJ said quickly as you turned around to put your hand on the door.

"I love you too, always, it just isn't our time" you smiled once more as you walked out of JJ's office.

You went to the bathroom to freshen up, you came back to the bullpen to see everyone huddled around Spencer's desk "What's going on here?" you whispered gently coming up behind them.

"Physics magic" Emily smiled as she threw her arm back for a side hug which you gladly took "you okay?" she whispered so only you could hear it.

"No but I don't wanna talk about it in front of everyone" you wearily smiled.

"You wanna talk about it at my place tonight?" Emily suggested.

"Yeah I would like that" you looked up at her and she winked.

——

Once you got to Emily's apartment, once she sent you the address you were in shock at how big her apartment was.

"You need to close your mouth or you'll catch flies you know" Emily laughed.

"That's something my mom would say" you cringed, you crinkled your nose and recoiled in disgust as Emily laughed.

"Make yourself at home" Emily smiled as she grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine.

"What's going on in that mind of yours" Emily sighed as she sat down on the couch next to you handing you your glass.

"JJ broke up with me" your fingers played with the rim of Emily's glass, you couldn't even look up at her because of how embarrassed you were.

"Oh honey no" Emily shuffled closer to you after putting your drink down.

"Emily I don't want pity" you chuckled, still playing with the rim.

"Don't think of it like pity, think of it like helping a friend out" she suggested with a shrug.

"Ha ha" you rolled your eyes as you set your glass down

"Y/N" she said as she playfully jabbed your side which made you laugh for real.

"Emily stop" you said through laughs.

"Not until you feel better" she said laughing as well.

"Thank you for this" you sighed.

"For sure" Emily said grabbing the two glasses and walking around the couch to put them in the dishwasher "and obviously if you need somewhere to stay, I have a spare bedroom that it honestly just gathering pure dust" Emily laughed.

"Can I stay here for tonight?" you bit your lip as you suggested it, unsure of how Emily would react.

"Oh honey of course" Emily walked over to you and kissed your forehead.

"We can go apartment hunting on the weekend if you're up for it?" Emily suggested as you nodded your head "It sounds like a plan then" Emily smiled.

"Sure does" you genuinely smiled for the first time that night.

"Come on, you look exhausted" Emily reached a hand out for you to take which you gladly accepted.

"Pajamas are in that drawer" Emily pointed to the middle of the large chest of drawers in front of you "and if you need anything don't hesitate to knock on my door" Emily smiled as she rubbed your arm in consolation.

You got into bed and checked your phone, multiple calls and texts from JJ asking if you could work this out just made the situation seem a lot more messy than what it needed to, you and JJ both knew you weren't right for each other so why was she trying so hard.

"Emily?" you questioned softly as you knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" she replied as you peered your head in through the door.

"Could I-could I um-" you gestured to the bed, Emily nodding as she knew what you meant, she shuffled backwards and opened the blanket for you to crawl under which you gladly took her up on "I'm sorry I'm such a mess" you sighed as you chuckled.

"Don't ever apologize for that, you're grieving a breakup right now" Emily softly shushed you.

"If it isn't asking to much can I hug you?" you looked up almost embarrassed.

"Mmhm" Emily smiled as she opened her arms for you to sink into.

"Thank you" you smiled into her chest.

"Don't mention it" she smiled as she kissed your forehead once more before you fell asleep.

[confused-pyramid]

I’d Like to Think That You Would Stick Around | s6

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 15.5k

warnings: SMUT, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, guns, drinking, angst, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 6x06, 6x08, 6x17, and 6x18.

a/n: Sorry for the long wait guys, school has been kicking my ass, but here's the next part! We're getting a lot of angst this chapter, but we're so so close to the good times ;) Hope you enjoy! Title is from Love Song by Lana Del Rey

series masterlist

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You are talking to Prentiss across the bullpen, laughing about something he can't hear, and he's freaking out. He shouldn't have left that night. He knows that. He just didn't know what else to do.

Never mind the fact that he has no idea how much you remember.

When you bumped into him on the way out of the elevator this morning, he swears you jumped back, but then you smiled at him, and he was able to convince himself that it was all fine. So why does it still feel like you are avoiding him?

He can still picture the dark expanse of your pupils as you leaned in closer after stumbling into him; he can still feel the rush of your breath as your gaze met his and his fingers tightened on your hip.

He walks into his office, before sitting at his desk and dropping his head into his hands. His blinds are just shut enough that no one from down in the bullpen can see into his office, and he welcomes the privacy as he rubs a hand over his face and forces his eyes away from the photograph of the two of you on his desk.

'Aaron...'

Your voice had sounded so soft, so hurt-

He shuts his eyes again and tries to think about anything else (maybe even the paperwork he's supposed to have been doing for an hour now) but every time he blinks, he sees your face again.

He has suspected the shift in your feelings for a little while now, but that night at the bar confirmed something he isn't sure he's ready to handle. He feels it too - of course he does - but he can't think about it. He can't.

He's floundering with Jack, with trying to be there for both him and the team, and he just lost Haley. God, he just lost Haley, and the idea of losing you too because he fucks it up just like he did with her is unimaginable. They were together for decades - they had a child together - and still he couldn't give her what she needed. Your friendship means everything to him, and if he does something to ruin your relationship too, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He glances out his window and sees you still talking to Emily, both of your heads now bent down to look at an open case file. She says something to you, and your face lights up as you grin at her. Something that feels like lava pools in his gut and he swallows thickly as he turns back to his paperwork.

***

You head back to your desk and drop the case file down as you resist the urge to glance up at his office window. He hasn't looked at you once today, and you can't help it as your mind goes to the worst case scenario of losing him forever because of one stupid moment.

You had considered pretending that you don't remember anything from the bar, but he just left you there. That isn't something you can forget so easily, and even as you're trying to ignore it, you don't want to avoid him. But it isn't that simple.

You're simultaneously hurt and embarrassed, but it isn't even your own feelings that are at the forefront of your mind. You haven't been to his place in over a week, and you miss Jack and you miss him. You haven't gone this long without talking to him in years. 

Fuck.

***

Your quest to stay out of trouble results in you staying late at the office to get ahead on all of your work. Most nights you were staying even later than JJ and Aaron, but then JJ got sent to the DoD as a media liaison, and the work started piling up.

You did what you could to intercept some of the paperwork before it landed on his desk, especially since Jack was so close to starting preschool and you know Aaron wants to take any extra moment of face time he can get, but it wasn't a foolproof system.

That's why it's almost midnight after getting back from a case in Ohio, and Aaron's office light is still on. Knowing it's about time you broke the cone of silence you've been under, you walk up the stairs, giving yourself ample time to change your mind.

A minute later, you knock on his door, before pushing it open gently, waiting to see the look on his face.

"Oh, you're still here," he says, his eyes lingering on you for an extra moment before turning back to his work. "Come in."

You shut the door behind you and sit in the chair in front of his desk. It doesn't sink like it usually does, and it takes you a second to realize that he finally replaced it. After all this time...

"Are you heading home soon?" you ask, trying to feign nonchalance. You can't remember the last time you overthought every single thing you said to him.

Yes, you do, your brain mocks you. A film reel of your awkward senior year of high school starts playing in your mind and one lone thought sticks out among the cacophony of memories. You loved him.

"Yeah, I'm almost done," he says with a sigh, his eyes still trained on his paper.

You frown. "Really?"

"No."

That surprises a chuckle out of you and you lean forward in the chair. It's stiffer than you're used to, and it creaks as you slide in closer. "Want any help?"

He shakes his head. "You should head home. It's late."

You don't say anything and when he finally meets your eye, you shoot him a look.

He sighs, begrudgingly handing you a stack of files. "With JJ gone, it's been a little hectic. I have to go through the new cases coming in, as well as completing the post-case paperwork."

"Shit," you whisper, not knowing what else to say. Even as you tried to cut down his workload, it wasn't even scratching the surface. "I didn't realize that was all on you."

"Yeah, for the time being," he shrugs, raking a hand through his hair to push it back, even as it bounces right back into place. "But it'll be easier when they bring us someone new."

That stops you in your tracks. "How new? Because you know I really liked Jordan, but she was too green for the BAU."

"Newer," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "They're considering some Academy cadets who are finishing up their remedial training."

"Cadets?" you echo, your voice rising an octave. "They're babies."

"They're at least 25," he states, the corner of his lip twitching. "Besides, their remedial training would have been with the BAU, so they'll know what they're getting into."

They'll know what they're getting into.

It's not a dig, but the juvenile corner of your brain hangs onto his words, trying to make out some double meaning.

"That's some relief, I guess." You flip open the first file, trying to pay attention as you scan the brief, but it just reminds you of how much you miss JJ.

"She was so much better at this," you groan, flipping the page. "I'm not sure anyone can replace her."

"I'm definitely sure that no one can," Aaron says simply as he glances up at you, "but we'll take any help we can get at this point."

There's a layer of subtext behind his tone, and you don't know if you're equipped to decipher it right now, after being up for almost 24 hours. Nevertheless, you don't give in as he looks at you, refusing to break eye contact. 

Please be okay, your mind begs as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Please say I didn't fuck this all up.

His eyebrows raise slightly, checking in on you for the first time in so so long, and another thought takes over your mind. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Blinking away the thought, you nod, but you can't stop yourself as you clarify, "It's just a temp assignment, right?"

He finishes the sentence he was writing before looking up. "Yes. It's only temporary."

***

"Daddy, don't look at me."

Jack's voice filters out from his bedroom and he looks at Jess with a small laugh as she pretends to lock her lips and toss away the key.

"I'm not looking," he calls out. "Are you almost ready?"

There's a small sound of affirmation from down the hall, so he stands up from the couch and reaches for the little jack-o-lantern bag that Jack wanted to use for trick-or-treating.

When he looks up, his son is emerging from his room, dressed incredibly unlike the comic book character he wanted to be for Halloween.

"Whoa," Aaron says, his voice a low rumble. "That is definitely not Spider-Man."

Jack just shrugs. "He's not a real superhero."

"He's not?" He looks at his son again, trying to discern which superhero wears a suit. "Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?"

The answer is immediate. "I'm you, Daddy."

Jess nudges his shoulder with a laugh before she walks forward and swings Jack into the air. "You look just like him, bud!"

He opens his mouth to add onto that sentiment, but his throat thickens with emotion and he has to clear his throat to get a word out. "You tied my tie so well." It's the best he can do with his eyes burning. All he wanted was for his son to feel safe and loved. Maybe I'm doing something right.

"Alright, buddy," Jess smiles, setting him down. "Grab your coat and shoes and we'll head out."

Jack runs off and she smiles at him again, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're a great dad."

"Thank you," he says simply, his lips curving up into a smile. She says it a lot, but for the first time in a while, he's finally starting to believe it.

Jess opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses for an extra second, piquing his interest. "I haven't seen Y/N around here in a little bit."

There it is. He should've seen it coming. "Yeah, she's just busy."

His words don't sound convincing, even to his own ears, and Jess shoots him a look to match. "I happen to know you quite well, Aaron. So if you're overthinking something you shouldn't be, let me be the first to say, you're being an idiot."

He lets out a surprised snort. "Thanks, Jessica."

"I'm just saying," she shrugs, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "I see things...and I know both of you, so it's not hard to read into things."

He takes a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "It's not like that."

He expects her to push back, but she just presses her lips together and shrugs her coat on. "Either way, Haley saw it too...and she seemed happy about it."

Before he has a chance to fully process her words, Jack rushes out, barreling into him. "I'm ready!"

"Alright, my little G-man," he grins, pushing her words out of his head for the night. "Let's go get some candy."

***

Things have been shifting at the office. Ever since JJ left, the team has felt smaller, and with your unintentional (okay, maybe a little intentional) avoidance of Aaron, the office hasn't felt the same in a long time.

Everyone has been taking on more than they're used to, and when Penelope had to fill in for JJ in a press conference during your last case, you couldn't help but notice how she turned to Aaron for support whenever she felt unprepared.

Your curiosity about their shared secret was eating at you all day, until you received a mass email from him to the whole team. Re: Garcia's play, Tolgate Theater, 8pm

You didn't have any plans tonight anyway, and after long days in a seemingly endless rotation of slacks and blazers, you welcome the chance to dress up a little bit. It's not like you go out often (or at all) unless it's with the team.

Pushing to the back of your closet, you rifle through the longer dresses and gowns you own, before landing on a light green, silk number. It has a halter neckline that drapes loosely around your neck, and you haven't worn it since before Jeff died, because it always felt like too much.

But Emily messaged you after getting home with a photo of her dress too, and even though it may be a lot for a little neighborhood theater, you're excited about something for the first time in a long while.

After putting on the dress and doing your makeup a bit darker than usual, you grab your keys and head out.

~

He got to the theater a bit earlier than the rest of the team, mostly to apologize to Garcia and warn her about the onslaught of support she was going to be getting, but he also wanted to get there before you did, so he could save a seat for you beside him.

From an outsider's perspective, he imagines there wouldn't seem to be anything different or wrong with your relationship, but he has been feeling the frustrating tension between the two of you since that night out.

Speaking with Jess on Halloween felt like a welcome reprieve from his cycle of self-loathing, and he finally feels more free than he has in ages.

Emily, Derek, and Spencer arrive a short while later, and he points them toward the seats he booked out, before heading back to the lobby, where family and friends of the performers are milling around.

When Dave arrives, he's also dressed in a suit. "We certainly clean up nicely."

He coughs out a laugh. "I haven't pulled this suit out in years."

"Well, aside from the cobwebs," Dave jokes, brushing an imaginary piece of dust from his shoulder, "you look classy."

"Thanks," he smiles, patting the older man's arm. "You should head inside. We're sitting about halfway up."

"You coming?" Dave asks as he steps around him.

Aaron shakes his head, glancing back at the door again. "I'm going to wait for...everyone to get here. I'll meet you inside."

He nods, before smacking his shoulder once and walking into the theater. When Dave's out of sight, he turns back around and pulls his phone out, trying to look busy.

He scrolls through a couple of his latest emails before tucking his phone away. The front door of the theater opens then, and when he looks up, all of the air leaves his lungs.

It feels like the world is moving in slow motion as you glide inside, your dress billowing down as the breeze from outside settles. You look incredible, and he feels like a teenager again, when he was so in love with you he couldn't breathe.

He watches you glance around, clearly searching for a familiar face, so he walks up, approaching you slowly to give you time to notice him.

"Oh, hi!" you say, your lips curving up into a smile as he tucks a hand into his pocket. "Am I late?"

"Not at all," he says, hating how strained his voice sounds. "The play starts at the top of the hour."

"Perfect," you smile, removing your shawl from your shoulders and folding it in your hands. "You clean up well, by the way."

There's a slight tinge of humor in your voice, and you're looking at him expectantly, likely waiting for him to lead you to the seats, but he can't move. He's terrified of what he's feeling, but you look amazing, and he's surrounded by people he doesn't know, so he doesn't overthink it as he reaches out and slips a hand onto your waist.

You clearly aren't expecting it as he pulls you in closer, his fingers sliding across the silkiness of your dress. You smell like flowers, and he can't help himself as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "You're beautiful."

Reality doesn't set in until he lets you go. Your cheeks are slightly flushed and he can't think straight, but the moment you step away from him and head to theater doors, the fog clears.

What is he doing?

The rational part of his brain takes over and he mumbles a curse under his breath before jogging forward to follow you inside. At least for the time being, he has the play to cover himself, but when morning comes, and brings with it the harsh light of day, he's fucked.

***

His skin is burning. The temperature in his office feels like it has been turned all the way up, but even as he undoes his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves back, the heat doesn't abate.

He is loosening his tie when his office door opens, revealing you in your rumpled button down and slacks. He opens his mouth to ask why you're still here, but before he can get a word out, you're shutting the door behind you and locking it.

"What are you doing?" he asks as you saunter over to him, stepping around his desk and pressing your hands to the armrests of his chair. "Y/N, it's late-"

"Shut up," you say firmly, twisting his chair toward you with a strong pull. He moves to get up, but you push his shoulder down to keep him in his chair.

He already doesn't know what to say, but every thought leaves his brain as you sink down to your knees before him.

"Don't move," you whisper, your eyes glinting up at him as you deftly undo the buckle of his belt and yank his pants open. "I'm in charge now."

He lets out a gasp as you tug his pants down in one go, and before he can do anything, your fingers are on him. Your lips curve into a smile as his breath hitches, and even with the thin fabric of his boxers between you two, the sensations coursing through him feel so magnified and new.

He is already hard as a rock, and you've barely even touched him. Teasingly slow, you pull his boxers down, watching as his cock springs free from the confines. Without wasting another second, you run your tongue up his length, and he grits his teeth to keep the groans in his throat from spilling out.

Your lips slowly close around his tip and the wet heat makes his head fall back as he tries to calm his breathing down. His chest is heaving like he just went for a run, but when you hollow your cheeks around him, he can't keep the moan inside. He loses control for a moment as he reaches forward to grasp onto your hair, but that only seems to spur you on, as you bob your head even faster.

The wet sounds of your mouth sliding over his cock fill the office, and he clutches his armrest with one hand and uses the other to guide your head.

He's already so close, and the soft grip of your hands on his thighs aren't helping as he tries to hold off, to prolong this feeling. At the last second, you swirl your tongue around the tip, and he chokes out a gasp, but then-

His eyes fly open to the lonely darkness of his bedroom. The room is warmer than it usually is, and his skin feels sticky with sweat under his covers. His mind, on the other hand...

He doesn't remember every moment of the dream, but the message was clear enough. His boxers are still tight from the memory, and he tries as hard as he can to think about anything else, but he keeps going back to the image of you, in front of him, kneeling-

Throwing the covers off, he sits up quickly and climbs out of bed, needing to clear his head in the only effective way he knows of. He shrugs his clothes off on the way to the bathroom, and he turns the shower on, making the water steaming hot, before stepping inside. The steam fogs up the glass around him, but he can still see the bare outline of his shame in the mirror across from the shower.

But now isn't the time, not with his skin burning and his cock pulsing in his hand. He pumps a few times as the hot water cascades over him, trying to set a rhythm, but it doesn't feel right. He keeps nearing the edge before the wave pulls back, and he lets out a soft groan in frustration as he presses his forehead to the glass.

Just once, he thinks as he grips himself again, his mind shifting back to his dream. Only this once.

His brain fills with the images from earlier: you on your knees, your mouth warm and wet over him, the pinpricks of sweat across the swells of your chest where your shirt was unbuttoned. He pictures your mouth as he ruts into his own hand, pretending, wishing, it was you instead.

It only takes a few more pumps before he finishes, spilling onto the white floor of his shower. The energy leaves him as he slumps against the wall, twisting the knob to a cooler setting, before shutting it off completely.

He still has a few more hours of sleep left before he has to get up for work, but he spends all night tossing and turning in the wide, empty expanse of his bed.

***

"What do you think he meant?"

"Maybe it's like a new manual, or guidebook."

"What are you two on about?" You walk up to your desk and slump down into the chair as Emily and Spencer look up with meek smiles.

Spencer is the first to crack. "We were discussing what Hotch might have meant by a 'different tactic' to solve this case in New Mexico."

You frown. "The gated community one? I thought Dave was just flying over ahead of us to get a head start."

"Nope," Emily shakes her head, before turning around. "He's in Hotch's office right now."

You look up just as Aaron and Dave exit the office and begin their descent down the stairs. Dave is ahead of him, with a big smile on his face, as he pushes past all of you.

It's only after you turn around that you realize who he's looking at. The woman he pulls into a hug is young - Academy cadet young - and she's pretty too.

"Ashley!" Rossi exclaims as he lets her go.

Hotch walks up behind them and shakes her hand. "Agent trainee Seaver is on loan to us from the Academy."

He introduces her to each of you, and you reach forward to shake her hand, a big smile on your face. After he told you that the bureau was considering someone new, you have had your guard up, but you don't want to make a bad impression in case she's here to stay.

"It's great to meet all of you," she says with a meek smile.

You pat her shoulder before walking past her to speak with Aaron about whether Seaver was the the new addition he was talking about. But when you lift your hand to get his attention, he turns away without looking at you, and leads Rossi out of the bullpen.

~

In the New Mexico gated community where three women have been murdered so far, Emily and Derek split off to check out the last crime scene, so you stay with the rest of the team and Seaver at one of the model homes to go through the evidence.

You can't help but notice how Spencer's eyes keep flitting over to the new girl, and a grin crosses your lips as you nudge his shoulder later.

"You totally have a thing for the new girl."

"Wha-what, no?!" he sputters, his face twisting into an unconvincing frown. "I don't even know her."

You just shrug. "You can still think she's pretty."

"That's irrelevant," he mutters, nudging you back and grabbing one of the files in front of him. "Do you think we can trust the local police?"

"I don't know," you sigh, letting him change the subject. "We definitely can't rule them out, especially in a community as clustered as this."

You glance across the room to Aaron and Dave, who are standing hunched over a laptop with the local detective. They're brows are all equally furrowed, and Aaron looks so focused you doubt he would hear you if you yelled his name right now.

Dropping the file onto the counter, you step around Reid and walk over to the trio, listening in as they start speaking.

"You interviewed every adult male in the community?"

The detective nods. "More than once. They're all digitized."

Aaron glances up as you approach, but when he realizes who it is, his eyes dart back to the screen. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds, and he sees a frown cross your face out of his periphery. Fuck. He has to be more careful. You're a fucking profiler, for god's sake.

"Were all the interviews confrontational like this?" you ask as you come up beside him. He can feel the warmth of your arm inches away from his, and he leans his weight to the other side, trying not to think about his dream while you're standing this close to him.

"Is that wrong?"

Rossi raises his eyebrow. "You didn't get much out of them, did you?"

The detective shakes his head before skipping to the next interview, and everyone leans in closer to get a better look. With four of you surrounding the screen, it's harder to see, and when you press your hand to his shoulder to balance yourself, he all but flinches back from your touch.

The movement is harsh enough that everyone but the detective notices. His eyes fly to you as shock and confusion cross your face, and before anyone can say anything, he mutters something that sounds like 'sorry' before rushing out of the model home.

~

You're chasing after him the moment he's out of sight. Dave reaches forward to catch your arm but you shake him off, rushing out of the house and onto the street, which has been cleared by the local police since you arrived.

"Aaron!" you call out as he walks ahead of you, his hand raking through his hair. To his credit, he comes to a stop the moment he hears your voice, and you catch up to him quickly, stopping just short of him on the sidewalk. "What is going on? I thought we were okay?"

His eyes close for a beat, before his face hardens into a steely calm. You can no longer pretend like everything's fine. It hasn't been for a long time - not since the bar, and maybe even before - but you've always been good at compartmentalizing what you don't want to feel. With your mom, and Jeff, and Haley, you could push down the hurt until it dissolved into your bloodstream, spreading everywhere. It wore you down and thinned you out, but at least it wasn't overwhelming.

Looking at him now - your best friend, the man you...love. Your breath catches in your throat and he shakes his head, not looking at you. "What do you mean, Y/N?"

You wish you could keep pretending, like he seems to be able to, but it's just not fair anymore. Not to him, and especially not to you. "No, don't do this. Don't act like I'm the only one who sees how wrong this has been for the last few months. I used to talk to you everyday, Aaron. We've barely spoken in weeks!"

His face cracks for a moment and you see the glimmer of pain in his eyes before the wall comes up again. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" you yell, your tone more forceful than you expect. "What are you sorry for, Aaron?"

He looks at you then, the facade falling away as your words sink in. The lines of pain and tension settle in and you're almost relieved that he's finally showing you the truth instead of hiding away what he's feeling. But then the despair returns as his lips thin into a line, unable to answer your question.

"What," you repeat, your words tinged with malice, "are you sorry for?"

He whispers your name softly, like it's an apology on it's own, before using his next words to tear you to pieces. "Don't make me say it."

A soft gasp leaves your mouth and you involuntarily take a step back, like he's slapped you in the face. He runs a hand over his neck and a sudden feverish anger rushes through you as you shake your head, blinking back tears. "Don't do that. I know it's not just me, Aaron. It's not-"

"Please," he whispers suddenly, cutting you off. "Please don't do this."

It's almost like he's begging you, and you jerk back, unable to look at him. Men have hurt you before, in so many ways, but nothing has ever cut deeper than this. You don't think your bullet wound hurt this much, and at least then you had him to support you. Now you're all alone.

The aching heartbreak hits you all at once and you brush a loose tear off your cheek before turning around and leaving him out on the sidewalk, watching you walk away.

***

"Something's up."

Penelope bumps Emily's shoulder to grab her attention. After a second, she looks up from her desk. "What was that?"

"Something," Penelope repeats, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Aaron, "is up. Y/N and Hotch haven't looked at each other in like four days. Earlier, she was talking to someone on the stairs and he literally walked out of his office and then back inside again."

Emily looks at her. "Are you sure you aren't reading into anything?"

Penelope shoots her a look that can only mean 'you're kidding, right?' "They're inseparable. Something must have happened in the last few weeks that we don't know about."

Before she can stop her, Penelope stands up and barrels over to you, with Emily on her heels like an owner who just dropped her dog's leash.

"Y/N!" Penelope calls out as she approaches you. You look up from your desk with a frown, before your face breaks into a forced smile that both of them can see through immediately. "We wanted to catch up."

You glance at Emily, who shrugs, earning a look of chagrin from the other agent.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" you ask, your forehead crinkling in a manner reminiscent of your boss.

Penelope pauses for a moment, like she's trying to think. "Uhh, I'm not sure. Maybe about...you and Hotch?"

"Subtle," Emily mutters under her breath as your face scrunches into a confused frown. "She just means that you two have seemed kind of off lately, and we were wondering if everything was okay."

You press your lips together, unsure of how to broach this topic, even with some of your closest friends. "It's nothing."

That pulls a frown from both of them, and you sigh, doubling down on your feigned nonchalance. "It's really nothing, guys. I just...can't see him right now."

You turn back to your work and Emily and Penelope share a look, twin realizations clicking in both of their minds. They rush back to Penelope's office, and Emily shuts the door behind them, before they both blurt out something that sounds like: "We all know what's going on here."

"We have to make him jealous," Emily agrees with a nod.

She pulls open her desk drawer and pulls out her address book. "I have just the thing."

***

"I messed up, Haley."

The ground is hard from the chilly December air, and he sits uncomfortably on the familiar granite bench before her grave. There is a bouquet of dried-up flowers leaning against her headstone, and he doesn't have to think too hard to figure out who they're from.

"I'm trying not to," he whispers, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets to warm them up, "but I keep messing up."

A cool breeze wafts over him and the rustle of the nearby trees feels like an acknowledgement. Like she's really listening.

"She hates me," he sighs, his chin dropping to his chest as he shuts his eyes. The wind picks up slightly, and it's like he can hear Haley's voice in his head. She doesn't hate you. She's hurt.

"I know." He runs a gloved hand over his face, the cold sending a small shiver through his body. "It's my fault. I just don't know what to do or how to fix it."

Her reply in his mind is almost immediate.Yes you do.

He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot for talking to himself, even though it's helping him work through his emotions. "I don't. I really don't."

For a few moments, all he can hear is the rustle of tree branches and the low whistle of the wind blowing around the headstones. You have to tell her how you feel.

His chest tightens and he lifts his face, letting the cold air sting his skin, like some kind of penance. "Don't you think I want to? Every time I look at her, I'm terrified it's going to come out, but I can't say it." He takes a deep breath as the words start to flow out. He hasn't said them out loud to anyone, but right here feels like the safest place to let them out. "I love her."

Three simple words and it's like a weight lifts off of his chest. He still doesn't have the answers, but at least he can admit it to himself.  "I'm in love with her, Hales. The only person in this world that I love more is Jack."

He can practically see her smile as he glances down at her name etched in stone. Then what's the problem.

"I'm gonna fuck it up. I always do." The words come out before he has a chance to think, almost like they've been sitting on the tip of his tongue for ages. He looks down at the ground again, imagining her sitting in front of him. "I did with you."

This time, his mind doesn't have the answer for him. He's finally in a good place with his son, and with the addition of Seaver to the team, his work load has been marginally cut back, so he doesn't really have an excuse anymore. It's just his fear of losing one of the only good things in his life that keeps holding him back.

But you're already losing her. 

It's his own voice berating him this time, instead of Haley's. 

You're trying so hard to hold her at arm's length that you haven't even noticed that she has stopped pushing her way in.

The wind rushes over him and he looks at the headstone again, his eyes tracing over Haley's name one more time, before he stands up and walks back down the hill.

***

Dave's annual new year's eve party has always been a fairly large spectacle, but when Aaron leads Jack up his driveway that evening, the sheer number of (expensive) cars lined up outside is nearly staggering.

He knew it wouldn't just be the team here tonight, but he wasn't expecting the sheer scale of the party, especially while his mind has been so pre-occupied with the prospect of seeing you outside of work for the first time in weeks. 

The front door is unlocked when they reach the top of the porch, so he carefully pushes it open and leads Jack inside. He's only an hour late, but the hallways are already crowded with groups milling around, having loud conversations with a drink in their hand.

He doesn't recognize anyone until he gets to the kitchen, where he sees the rest of the team (minus Dave) chatting around a small snack table.

"Y/N!" Jack shrieks when he sees you, letting go of his hand immediately and running forward. You turn at the sound of his voice, and your face breaks out into a wide smile as the boy barrels over and throws his arms around you.

"Jack-o-lantern!" you gush, lifting him up and hugging him, your eyes falling shut as you squeeze the boy tightly.

Any onlooker can tell that his son loves you. For a while after Haley's death, Jack was closed off to every female figure in his life - even Jess - but he never shied away from you.

I love you, a voice in the back of his mind whispers as you set Jack down and press a kiss to the top of his head. I love you I love you I love you.

~

After Dave returned from the back patio and whisked away Aaron and Jack to meet some of his other friends, you loitered around the kitchen for a while, chatting with Derek and Spencer about their resolutions for the new year.

You're refilling your glass with some diluted punch when JJ and Emily sneak up behind you with matching mischievous expressions. 

"What did you guys do?" you ask, gulping back some punch in preparation for whatever they're about to spring on you.

"There's someone we want you to meet," Emily grins as she reaches forward to loop her arm through yours.

"Oh, no way," you say, already shaking your head before they can elaborate. "You are not setting me up with some random bureau guy again."

"That was only one time," JJ pouts, before beckoning to the hallway across from the kitchen. You glance over her shoulder and spot Will standing with a man you've never seen before. "I had Will bring one of his single friends tonight. He's an architect, and he's super smart and super cute. Totally your type."

You raise an eyebrow as you inspect the man from across the room. He's definitely easy on the eyes, but he's also not your type. There's only one man who fits into that box.

"I don't know," you sigh, setting your glass down on the table behind you. "It's very sudden."

"C'mon," Emily urges, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It'll be good. Just talk and flirt a little, and if you're into it then you have a new year's kiss locked up!"

Kissing someone you just met in front of all of your colleagues sounds like nightmare fuel, but you can't think of another way to get your friends off your back. "Okay, fine, I'll meet him."

~

After leaving Jack with Henry and the other children, he heads back into the main section of the house, hoping to run into you. He doesn't know what he would say if he does, but anything is better than the avoidance game you've been playing.

He sees Penelope and JJ first, but you're not with them, so he continues forward, deftly stepping around throngs of people conversing in little pockets around the house. 

"Hotch, over here!"

He whips around to find Derek, Will, and Dave waving him over to join them in the kitchen. He grabs a piece of cheese off a platter on his way over, and Derek pats him on the back when he reaches the three of them. 

They return to their prior topic of conversation, and he tunes them out as his eyes dart around the room, still looking for you. He's about to give up when he spots the familiar hue of your hair down the hall. His lips curve up in a small smile as he watches you lean your head back with a big laugh that he swears he can hear even from all the way over here. He's about to excuse himself from the guys when a hand reaches out to gently touch your forearm, and you don't shake it off.

It's only then that he notices the man you're talking to, and how enamored he looks as you burst into another bout of laughter. Something that feels like ice settles in the pit of his stomach and he turns back to the guys just as they notice what he's been looking at.

"They seem to be hitting it off," Will grins, crossing his arms over his chest. "My friend's a good guy, and he mentioned wanting to meet her after they crossed paths at one of me and JJ's dinner parties."

He notices Dave glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't bear to look at the older man, for fear that he'll give something away. Aaron feels the nauseating pit of jealousy in his stomach, but it's not fair. He pushed you away.

He turns away from you and tries to focus on literally anything else, but it's not long before he's unable to fight the urge to look at you from his spot in the kitchen. You can't see him watching you, and it gives him the obscurity he needs to observe you from afar, but it also makes it much more conspicuous to his friends.

You don't leave the company of Will's friend until much later in the night, and soon it's almost midnight. The countdown starts as everyone in the house lifts their glasses and latches onto their significant others.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

He's turning before he knows what he's doing. He can't help it, it's almost magnetic, the pull you have on him. 

You're not looking at him, and he can only see your side profile as you glance up at the clock as it ticks down.

"Five, four, three, two..."

He turns away at the last second, unable to stomach the thought of you kissing someone else, but when the crowd erupts into cheers, he looks back to find that you're gone. His heart rates spikes and he pushes through people, ignoring the pats on his back as people wish him a "Happy new year". 

He eventually spots you through the back windows, and he steps out into the frigid air to accompany you on the back porch steps. You're sitting on the top step, your bare arms wrapped around your body for some semblance of warmth, and for a moment, he can't move.

He can't decide if he should go to you or let you have the space you so clearly wanted, but then a voice in the back of his skull yells at him through all the noise. She's your best friend in the world. A few months ago, the answer would have been obvious.

A switch flips and he steps forward, sliding off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You let out a soft sigh as he sinks down next to you, and he watches as your eyes glisten in the lamplight. 

You don't look at him as you press your elbows into your knees and rub a hand over your neck. "How did this get so fucked up?"

He sighs too, a heavy sound. "I don't know." 

He's still looking at you, at the tears in your eyes, when you finally take a deep breath and turn to face him. A tear slips down your cheek and his brain fires off sparks again. I love you, I love you, I love you.

He wants to say it so badly, but then the newest factor in all of his confusion jumps back into the forefront. The Pakistan assignment. He has been trying to push it off, but he's getting so much pressure from the brass, and that's just one more thing he's hiding from you. 

He breaks your eye contact and you let out a slow breath, almost like you felt him lose his nerve in real time. Without another word, you wipe the tears from your face and stand up, leaving him out in the cold once again.

***

The bureau gives you a week off at the start of the new year, but you can't enjoy any of your alone time. Every second you let your mind wander, your thoughts are invaded by the look on his face as he turned away from you. 

You had seen it in his eyes out there, in the freezing cold air as the clock struck midnight. At least a small part of him felt for you the same way you felt for him. But it's not enough.

You've been alone for so many years. When you married Jeff, you were done. You didn't think you'd have to ever feel this kind of heartbreak again, but now that you feel that kind of love again, you refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. And what you deserve is someone who can show you how he feels. 

Nevertheless, you can't control your subconscious. 

That's why you're laying in bed at the end of the week, staring at your nightlight across the room and somehow managing to simultaneously miss him and hate him. It's well past midnight and you can't sleep, but you don't want to give in to the urge that's been tugging at your gut all night. 

You're so angry with him, but he's also the only person you want to talk to when you're feeling anything you can't explain. It only takes another minute before you're giving in and snatching your phone off your bedside table.

It rings for a long time before he finally answers. 

He whispers your name softly, his voice gravelly as though he just woke up. He sounds confused, but it has to mean something that he answered his phone at this hour.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks, his voice still a bit gruff from the tiredness. "What's wrong?"

I miss you, you want to say. Instead, you panic and ask the first question that pops into your head: "Why do you think The Beatles broke up?"

The line goes silent for a moment before he sighs quietly. "Everyone blames Yoko but you know I think they just stopped working well together creatively." 

"It was probably Lennon deciding to leave the band," you say, unsure where you're going with this. "Yeah, that makes the most sense."

"Maybe," he says, his voice a low hum.

There's no tinge of impatience or irritation in his tone, but you still feel awful for waking him up in the early hours of the morning to chat about a band. 

You take a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what you're about to say, but the breath catches in your throat as a small sob escapes. "I'm so mad at you."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, before Aaron exhales sharply. "I know."

Your resolve fades almost immediately and you sink back into your pillows. "I'm not mad at you." He quietly huffs out a laugh, but you can tell his heart isn't in it. "I'm hurt, and yeah, I'm kind of mad at you, but the only person I want to talk to is you."

You can hear his breath stutter over the speaker, and he rears up to say something, before thinking better of it. "It's late, Y/N. You should go to bed."

"Yeah," you say eventually, rubbing tears of frustration from your eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah."

"No," he says quickly, his voice hurried as though he's afraid you'll hang up. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you called."

Your heart flutters pathetically. "Okay."

"Why were you up anyway?" he asks after a moment.

You shrug, even though he can't see you, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. "Couldn't sleep."

Something that sounds like a quiet chuckle floats into your ears. "Try turning off that massive nightlight."

Your eyes widen and you inadvertently glance over at the beacon of light plugged in across the room. "What nightlight?"

He hums again. "Goodnight, Y/N." I love you.

"Goodnight, Aaron." I love you too.

***

It started when Emily arrived late to the briefing. She was never late, so that itself was enough to set off your alarms, but then you noticed her fingers. She's biting her nails again.

Aaron finishes briefing you all about the two families murdered in house fires in the DC area, before you disperse and head back to your desks to read up about the evidence.

When you drop your bag down and sink into your chair, you don't miss how Spencer visibly flinches in his seat, his eyes twitching with exhaustion.

"Sorry, Spence," you say earnestly, turning to him with an anxious look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he answers quickly, his eyes darting back down to the case file. "I'm... I'm...I'm sure these victims overlap somehow. Garcia pulled their phone numbers, but so far I can't find anything."

You've been working with him long enough to notice when he's deflecting, especially when he's doing such a bad job of it. "Spencer, you just jumped."

He takes a deep breath and you're suddenly grateful that his shorter haircut allows you to get a better view of his expression, even with his head down. "I've been having these really intense headaches lately." "Have you seen a doctor?" you ask, sliding your chair in to get a better look at him. "Yeah, a few. None of them have been able to figure it out." "I'm sorry," you say genuinely as guilt and shame flood your veins. You've been so preoccupied with your own drama that you haven't been paying any attention to your friends. First Emily, and now Spencer. "Does anyone know?"

His lips press into an adorable line. "You." "I won't tell anyone," you assure him, your eyebrows scrunching down. "I'm glad you're telling me now." "I know," he nods. "I just didn't want you to worry."

"I won't make a big deal out of it," you tell him, your lips curving up in a playful smile, "if that's what you were worried about."

"Thanks," he mutters, but you can tell his heart isn't really in it.

It's been so long since you sat down and caught up with your teammates, and given how weird Emily has been acting, you figure it's about time. 

~

"Have you noticed anything off with Emily?"

It's Penelope who comes to you first about the change in your teammate's disposition. You had clocked the small jab Emily had thrown at her after the briefing, but didn't want to intrude in case it was personal. You're starting to realize it might be a lot more personal than you originally thought.

"I have," you say simply, glancing back at her across the bullpen. Her head is down and her shoulders are hunched forward as she quickly types something out on her phone. 

She waits for another moment before jolting upright and standing up. Before either of you can get a chance to ask what's wrong, she is jetting off to the bathroom.

"I got this one," you tell Penelope before strutting off to follow her.

She's looking at her phone again when the bathroom door shuts behind you, and you approach her slowly so as not to spook her. "Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. You sped out of there."

"I'm fine," she says, trying to brush away your worry with a wave of her hand.

You frown, taking a step forward. "Are you sure? I noticed you've been biting your-"

"Don't profile me, Y/N," she snaps, her head turning to level you with a glare that would have scared the shit out of you if you didn't know her so well. It doesn't last long though, and before you can get another word out, she's already apologizing. "I'm sorry. I-I'm gonna be alright. I promise. I'm just having this nightmare."

She details her dream to you, and the profiler in you can't help but relate it to her own lack of trust, but then she looks at you with a genuine smile and you just have to smile back.

"Somehow, you.." she pauses for a beat. "You always make me feel better. I don't think I've ever thanked you for that."

Her words feel so final, like she's saying goodbye, and a bolt of terror shoots through you before you decide you're being dramatic.

She's your friend. She's gonna be alright.

~

Emily's gone. She slipped out during Aaron's multi-agency task force briefing, and none of you noticed.

How could you not have noticed?

You're kicking yourself as Spencer pulls out a sheet of paper from one of Emily's contacts, with a list of undercover names all with the initials L.R. 

"Prentiss is the last name on the list," Rossi deduces as you mentally check back into the conversation. Your eyes scan the board with the name 'Lauren Reynolds' written at the top. "That means she's on Doyle's list too."

"Guys," Aaron calls out from Emily's desk, holding up her things in his hands, "she left her badge and gun."

"Why would she do that?" Penelope asks, her voice small like a child's. "We're her family."

That's when you finally find your voice. "She ran to protect us." You turn to Aaron then, your eyes flashing over his like it's the first time you've ever really looked at him. "How do we find her?"

"We need to profile their behavior," he instructs, moving to the front board. "Doyle is our unsub and Prentiss is our victim. We treat it like any other case." 

There's the small sound of a door opening and Aaron looks up, beckoning his chin to the back. "Because terrorism isn't an area we specialize in, I've reached out to an expert from the State Department...someone who can also shed light on Prentiss' past."

You whip around to the sight of a familiar head of blonde hair walking into the briefing room. The tension in your shoulders abates for a split second as gratitude cascades over you. God, you missed her.

JJ saunters forward and nods at each of you, her expression already rigid with concentration. "Let's get to work."

~

Profiling Emily takes you all to Boston, where the evidence from the previous victims adds up to the conclusion that Doyle is a family annihilator. When you also find out that he has a secret son, you and Derek lead the team to the warehouse where the son was last taken, in the hopes that Emily would have made the same connection.

The sound of a loud crash sends you running, but Derek is faster and he gets there before you. You enter the back room to find Emily bleeding out on the floor, a large wooden post stuck through her abdomen.

"I got her!" he yells into his comms before pressing his hands onto her wound. "Prentiss. It's me, I'm right here."

She mumbles something that sounds like his name and your chest floods with relief. You step out of the room to call for a medic, but when you get back, she isn't moving.

"Emily!" Derek yells as you sink to your knees beside him. Your pants are wet with her blood, and it feels like ice against your skin. How can there be so much blood in the human body? 

"Come on," he pleads, tightening his grip on her hand. "Stay with me!"

"Emily, please," you whisper, your throat hoarse from the unshed tears. You press your fingers to her pulse. "Please."

The medics come eventually, and she is taken to the hospital, where the whole team is holed up in the waiting room. Spencer hasn't stopped pacing since she was taken into surgery and you can't seem to take your face out of your hands, even as people press comforting pats on your shoulders. 

You don't notice anything going on around you until JJ comes back from speaking with the doctor with tears in her eyes. No, oh god no.

You barely register her words as she whispers, "She never made it off the table."

It's only then that you stand up. You're not sure what you're planning to do, but as soon as you try to move, your legs start shaking, like you're slipping in quicksand. Aaron steps towards you just as your body gives out and you collapse onto him, quiet sobs bubbling out of your throat.

"She was just here," you cry into his chest while you clutch his shirt as though your life depends on it. "How can she be gone?"

His hands rub comforting circles into your back as his arms tighten around you, keeping you upright, and you can't help but imagine that this picture looks vaguely reminiscent of his home last year when you held him up as he broke down. 

Emily's gone.

You can't even remember why you were so angry with him before. Everything outside of this moment feels so trivial, like you've been wasting so much time. You need him now, and you're so thankful he's here to hold you up even though his pain is just as big as yours.

Aaron wraps himself tighter around you, fighting the tears that are rushing forward, because they just aren't fair. His whole team is falling apart in front of him, and he's one of two people here who knows the truth.

You choke out another sob and he tugs you upward, helping you stand again as you wipe the tears from your face. Out of the corner of his periphery, he sees JJ pull Spencer into a hug, and she meets his eye over the younger agent's shoulder. So much pain.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you ask suddenly, your voice so small he's sure he's the only person who can hear you. "How are we supposed to keep going?"

The familiar echoing emptiness of guilt swallows him whole and he sucks in a sharp breath in a futile effort to keep himself from drowning. Your glistening eyes are so wide with despair, and he pulls you back into his arms, mostly for comfort, but also because he can't stand to see you in pain for much longer. When he finally finds his voice, all that comes out is, "I don't know."

***

You can barely remember the funeral. 

When you try to think about it, there are flashes of white gloves and red roses and rough, brown dirt, but the only thing that really sticks out is the pressure of Aaron's hand over yours as you stood in front of her casket while they lowered her into the ground.

So many funerals, so many gravestones. The eery familiarity that has made you numb to the loss, even as it threatens to tear you apart each time you let yourself think about her.

It has become a regular passage in the story of your life: meet someone new, learn to love again, and then lose them.

Tears prick your eyes as you settle into the stiff wooden chair in your kitchen. The team has been organizing impromptu get-togethers all month, mostly at the last minute and usually late at night. That's when the loneliness hits the hardest. 

You figure you should be used to it by now. Deep down, you know it's not something anyone ever gets used to, but believing that the pain will abate is easier than realizing it'll always be there, buried in your bones. 

The pain of your mother's death is still a phantom bruise under your skin, always there, but never at the forefront until you press hard enough. Losing Jeff was a whole other monster, hiding under your bed and within the confines of your mind, ready to pounce the moment you closed your eyes. Haley, on the other hand, was a fresh wound; sometimes, you still aren't sure that the gash has fully closed, but with time it has gotten easier to pretend that things aren't awful all the time.

You wipe a loose tear from your cheek as you check your phone messages and tidy up some of the plates from your table. Aaron came over last night, and you both sat in silence for a long time, until a photo of Emily on your computer brought you to tears again. He held you for hours as you shook in his arms, trying to keep yourself together, but ultimately failing.

The silver lining of his renewed presence in your life doesn't feel as sweet as it should, given the circumstances, but you'll take any win you can get. If nothing else, you missed the feel of his arms around you.

You flinch as the dishes clink together loudly when you set them in the sink, and you watch the water dribble from the faucet for a long time, pretending that all you see isn't her blood.

***

He doesn't know what to do. He wants to be there for you more than anything else in this world, but seeing you break down is like being stabbed all over again, only this time it's his own fault. 

When you called last night, he couldn't stay away. He misses you like he's missing a limb, and even if he wanted to stop himself from seeing you, he knows he couldn't. Your grief has brought you back to him, but it feels wretched, even as he shoves aside his guilt for an evening to comfort you at this low.

He had lost count of the number of work-related things he had kept from Haley when they were married, but he always had the excuse that she didn't need to know. That her life would be better without the knowledge of all the horrors that circled them everyday. 

He doesn't have the same excuse with you. You are well-acquainted with the tragedies that life brings, and if it was up to him, he would spill every secret he has ever hidden, because he loves you, and you're one of the last people in this world who still trusts him, and he's so scared that after this, he'll lose that too. 

But he keeps his mouth shut. And when Garcia invites him to a get-together at your place, he politely declines, because if he knows you all have each other, then he can take one night off from the debilitating guilt he somehow still hasn't learned to shoulder after all these years.

***

"Come on in."

Spencer, Derek, and Penelope shuffle into your house, handing you bottles of wine and bags of assorted snacks, before plopping down on your couch and making themselves at home. They've been over so many times in the last few weeks that you figure it basically is their second home at this point, not that you mind. 

None of you want to be alone, and that's why it works.

"What are we watching tonight?" Derek asks, his voice nonchalant, like it's just another movie night with your colleagues. He always starts the night acting like everything's fine, and it really irked you the first time he came over, until you realized it was a front that he just needed time to shed. "Didn't you say last time that you have the original Jaws DVD?"

"What if we watched The Empire Strike Back?" Spencer asks timidly from under a slew of blankets that Penelope has covered both of them with. His nightly ritual involves suggesting one of his favorite movies, even though it always gets immediately shot down. 

Derek chuffs, snagging some of the blanket from off your lap. "Maybe another night, kid."

"I don't care what we watch," Penelope sighs as she pulls open a bag of popcorn and chucks a handful into her mouth, "as long as it isn't sad." That's her only request. Nothing sad, please. Your nightly ritual is like a practiced dance. Each of you playing your parts, reciting your lines the same way, keeping it familiar. Establishing a routine.

You stand up, taking your cue, and grab a random DVD from your cabinet. Ten minutes later, you're all watching The Empire Strikes Back, and Spencer cracks something that looks like a smile for the first time since before the funeral.

You watch the movie in silence, and when the credits roll, you watch the names scroll over the screen as you muster up the energy to find the remote. When you finally click the TV off, the silence feels suffocating, and you hear Penelope sniffle from next to you.

Throwing your arm around her shoulder, you all squish yourselves together, like the pressure will keep the emotions in. 

After a long pause, Spencer is the first to speak. "It'll get better, right?" 

"It has to," Derek sighs, his chin falling to his chest as he takes in a deep breath. You know him well enough to be able to translate his exasperation into anguish, even as he tries to hide it.

"It will get better." You glance around the couch at your friends - the people who have been here for you through all of it - and nod your head, choosing this moment to really believe it. "It will."

***

It doesn't.

A week later, you are storming into Aaron's apartment after he dropped Jack off to stay with Jess, your words already pouring out even before he can shut the door behind you.

"How could you take the assignment?"

Your tone is laced with malice, but he can still hear the hurt underneath.

"How could you leave us here after everything that happened?"

This time the pain is clearer. Your voice breaks at the end and he steps forward to do something, but you twist your body away.

His hands fall hopelessly back to his sides and he doesn't know how to explain this to you, when he can't even explain it to himself.

"Strauss left your brief in the conference room." Your words are stronger now, and he looks up, his eyes squinting with anticipation. "You've known about this since before the new year."

You're right. He's known about the prospect of this assignment for almost a year, and then after, when it became a real possibility, he still chose not to tell you. Maybe before, he had the excuse that you weren't speaking to him, but after Emily...he doesn't have a leg to stand on.

"Why wouldn't you tell us?" you ask, the anguish coming forward in full force. "We need you here. Jack needs you. I need you."

He needs you too. But he also needs to stop hurting you. And he can't see that happening while he's still here.

"I'm sorry," he whispers softly. I love you, I'm sorry.

You let out a sigh and your shoulders fall, like you've lost all of the fight within you. You look so defeated, and it feels worse than when you were yelling at him. 

You're right here, but you feel so far away, like he's looking at you through tinted glass.

"Fine," you say after a beat. "Call me when you're leaving."

Your shoulder brushes his as you whip past him, and he doesn't muster up the courage to speak again until you're already gone.

***

The call comes soon. Too soon.

You meet him at his apartment, and Jack immediately gives you a hug before latching himself back onto his father. You don't know what Aaron told him, given how you don't even know how long he's going to be gone, but you can't imagine it was helpful to a six year old boy who only understands that his father is leaving for a long time.

"I called Jess to pick him up," Aaron explains in a hushed whisper as Jack runs out to get his shoes, "but she's busy until the afternoon."

"That's okay," you say, crossing your arms in front of you. It's a defensive maneuver that's about all you can muster up right now. "I can drop him off at her house after we get you out of here."

You try to say it lightly, but your tone sharpens at the end, making him flinch. You sigh, an apology in itself, because you're trying so hard to be supportive. You know you're mad at him - no matter how hard you try not to be - but this isn't the time to show your anger.

Jack comes back into the living room, and you usher the young boy out the door as Aaron lugs his duffel bags behind you and out to the car. The drive is mostly silent, and Jack doesn't say a word until you help him out of his carseat and onto the tarmac at the base. 

"I'm gonna miss you, Daddy," he whispers, his little hands reaching up to grab his father's hand. "Come home soon."

Aaron picks him up and squeezes him in a big hug, before setting him back down on the ground. He looks at you then and you shrug, pressing your lips together. "What he said."

"I don't know how long this is going to take," he says, mostly directing his words at Jack, even though he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Probably a few months though."

A few months. That shouldn't feel as long as it does. 

"Bye buddy," he says then, kneeling down to hug his son again. "Go sit in Y/N's car so I can talk to her about some grown up stuff for a minute."

Jack bounces back to where your car is parked, and you watch him get in before turning back to look at Aaron. There's a resoluteness in his expression that shouldn't surprise you, given how driven he is by his sense of duty, but it still catches you off guard.

"You'll be okay there?" you ask, needing to get that out of the way before the rest of it.

He nods, before inching his hand forward to brush against yours. It's a small gesture, but you're not ready yet.

"I'm still angry," you whisper, pulling your hand back slightly. "I don't want to be, because you're leaving, and I want you to have a clear head out there, but I can't help it."

"It's okay," he says softly, his brow furrowing.

"No," you sigh, shaking your head. Your throat is thickening with the threat of tears and you don't want to cry in front of him now either, but there are too many emotions swirling around your brain to keep any of them straight. "I'm not really mad, okay. I know you're trying to do the right thing, but she's gone, and the team is not okay right now, and I need to find a way to handle it on my own."

I can't do it by myself, you want to say. I'm in love with you and you're making it seem so easy to leave me here to shoulder the burden of everyone's grief.

"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice softer this time. 

You're so much better than me, he thinks as he watches you stand so stoically before him. I love you and I can't bear to see you in pain when I'm part of the reason why.

"It's okay," you repeat after a beat. Then you reach forward and take his hand, like he tried to do earlier. His hand is warm and calloused, and it feels rough against your palm, but it grounds you, tethering you to this moment. "I'll see you when you get back."

He nods, before pulling you forward gently into a hug. Your chin tilts up to sit on his shoulder and he squeezes you to him once before letting you go.

When he lifts his bags and walks toward the loading ramp, Jack leaps out of the car and grabs your hand as you both wave goodbye.

He flashes you both one last smile before waving back and disappearing into the plane.

***

The first month is the easiest. You let the futile anger take over; let yourself pretend that you don't actually miss him. 

Seeing Jack and Jess makes it less painful, and you slowly find yourself spending more time with them than at home. Jess tries to spend time with Jack at Aaron's apartment to help him maintain a stable environment, but with his father gone, it doesn't help you notice the absence less.

"He's not eating as much," Jess mentions to you one night after she puts him to bed and joins you out in the living room. At first, being at his place without him felt intrusive, but you've gotten used to being there. "He was picking at his food all through dinner."

"I noticed that," you agree as you pat the spot beside you on the couch. "I'm sure it's just a picky eating phase. Once he settles back into a routine with you it should be fine."

"With us," she corrects with a small smile. "I need all the help I can get, and I really appreciate you being here so often."

"Oh, honey, of course." You give her forearm a squeeze before grabbing both of your empty glasses from the table and taking them to the sink. "I was worried I was becoming more of a burden on you by being here so much, but I'm glad it's welcome company."

"Always," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. You set the glasses down and turn back to see her staring at the tiny picture frame of her and Haley on her counter. "She always made it look so easy."

You nod, not wanting to interrupt her moment. After a beat, Jess releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. "She was the perfect mother. If I can be half as good of a caretaker for Jack as she was, I'll know I'm doing something right."

You smile unconsciously, remembering a moment from years ago. "I swear Aaron said the exact same thing once. He was upset about leaving work late again when they first had Jack, and I had to assure him that he wouldn't miss every childhood milestone just because he had to work late once in a while."

He was so terrified of being anything like his father. You tried your best to show him how impossible that was, but those are the kinds of things people have to learn on their own.

Jess looks down, deep in thought, and your phone chimes then with a new message. It's from Derek: Hotch sat phone call, 15 mins

"Jess," you whisper, getting her attention again. "Aaron is scheduled to call us over the satellite phone in a little bit. I'm gonna go into the office to see if I can talk to him. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"

She thinks for a moment before shaking her head. "Just that Jack and I are doing well. And we miss him."

You nod and press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing your coat and driving over to the field office. The sky is dark by the time you arrive, and it feels foreign to walk into an empty bullpen. The team has shrunk so much since he left, and lately it's just been you, Spencer, Derek, Rossi, and Penelope around here.

You knock on Aaron's office door once before stepping inside.

"Sounds good," Derek is saying as you shut the door behind you. "Yeah, keep us updated." He sees you then and beckons you closer before turning back to the phone. "Y/N's here. I'll hand it to her."

You take the phone from him and tentatively press it to your ear. There's a slight buzzing sound and when he says "Hello?", his voice sounds far away.

"Hi," you say softly, turning your back to Derek for some semblance of privacy, but he has already pulled out his phone and started typing something. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he says, sounding slightly distracted. "It's really busy over here. How are yo- you all doing? Jack and Jessica?"

"They're good," you tell him, hoping he can't hear the tightness in your voice over hearing his for the first time in weeks. "They really miss you. We all do."

"I miss you guys too." 

You hear some muffled voices on the other end of the line, and you jump in with your questions before he gets called away. "Any updates I can ask about? Like when you'll be done."

"Not right now," he says with a sigh. "It's still need-to-know."

"Right," you whisper rigidly, even though it's not fair. He's trying his best, and he's doing what's right, but you keep punishing him. Because of your own feelings, your brain adds at the end. 

"It's protocol," he says, even though you're both well aware of how this works.

"I know," you sigh, your fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I have to go back to Jess's."

"Y/N, wait-" he starts, but you are already handing the phone back to Derek.

He takes it uncertainly, but you just shake your head and exit the office.

***

"Did you watch the other movie I gave you?"

You whip your head around to look at Spencer, who is looking at you intently. You had been staring at Aaron's office door for the better part of the last hour.

You frown apologetically. "Not yet, Spence." He had loaned you his DVD of one of his favorite Star Wars movies, and each time you tried watching it, you were just reminded of the immediate aftermath of losing Emily. "I'll find time soon, though."

"That's okay," he shrugs as you inadvertently glance up at the door again. "I know it isn't everyone's thing. I just thought you seemed to enjoy the one we watched at the movie night."

"I did," you assure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "I promise I just haven't found time yet."

He smiles at you, and you return it before your eyes dart up to Aaron's office door at the sight of movement. A small, unrealistic part of you expects Aaron to emerge, but it's Derek instead. Derek took over his office a month after he left to Pakistan, because the secure line was already set up.

"He has a lot on his plate these days," Spencer says, drawing your attention back. He's watching Derek speak to someone at the top of the stairs, his forehead crinkled with stress.

"We're down quite a few hands," you nod, pursing your lips. "Maybe we can convince Derek to bring JJ back permanently."

Spencer lights up and you can't help but grin too. "We definitely should."

***

The cases start piling up, and you welcome the distraction as the passing months begin to weigh on you. The whole team has been under a lot of pressure from the brass, and Strauss has been hinting at a prolonged assignment in Pakistan that may take up even more of his time.

After a particularly grisly case, you invite Penelope over to unwind with some wine and chatting. It doesn't escape your notice that you're missing half of your usual girls' night attendees, but you keep the wine flowing, and soon you aren't focusing on anything other than the new guy Penelope met at her grocery store.

"He's so sweet," she gushes as she leans over the table to grab another chip. You're both sitting on the floor of your living room, and you reach out hastily to steady her glass as it gets precariously close to spilling over. "And I think it says a lot that he shops at such a high quality grocery store."

"Oh, absolutely," you nod, lifting your own glass in a mock salute. "You can tell a lot about a man by how he eats."

"Tell me about it," she sighs, her words starting to slur. Maybe opening the second bottle was too much. "I once dated a guy who only ate protein bars and steak."

Your face twists in disgust, and you set your glass down, feeling the rush of tipsiness hit you. "That's definitely not a balanced diet."

"I tried to tell him," Penelope says, before her face falls into a sad frown. "I really tried."

"Okay, okay," you say, trying to change the subject as her eyes fill with drunk tears. "Back to the grocery store man."

Her face breaks into a wide smile comically fast and you let out a high laugh. "He's so sweet. He really is just the sweetest guy."

"So I've heard," you grin, taking another sip of wine.

Turns out your last glass was one too many, because an hour later, after sending Penelope off in a cab and clearing away your dishes, you're still feeling the buzz from earlier.

Your face feels comfortably warm and you grab your phone from the counter, with the intention to call Emily, when you suddenly remember-

Your smile falls in an instant and tears are rushing forward before you can clearly form a coherent thought. You drop the phone and rush upstairs to take a hot shower to wind down and calm yourself, but even as the burning water washes over you, you still feel wound tight, like your emotions are trapped inside of you.

She was the first person you would always call after a tipsy night, and now she's gone. 

Everybody's gone.

JJ, Emily, Aaron. Aaron.

A sob chokes out and you press your hand over your mouth, your body caving forward under the billowing steam fogging up the glass. You miss him so much, it's like you're not even yourself anymore. 

You let out another soft sob as the water begins to calm you down, but you can still feel the echoing hollowness inside of you. You wish he was here, holding you, telling you it would all be okay. That you didn't ruin everything by pushing too hard, too fast. That you love him and he loves you, and it can all be perfect again. 

"It'll be okay," his voice whispers from behind you, and suddenly he's there. Not really, but with your eyes closed and your mind still foggy, it almost feels real. "I'm sorry I left. I should've been here."

"You should be," you gasp out as his arms close around you from behind, holding you tightly under the soothing warmth of the water. "You left me."

"I know," he says, his breath tingling the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I'll never leave again. I promise."

"You promise," you whisper, mostly to yourself, as you turn around. His lips glide over your shoulder and up your neck, and suddenly his mouth is on yours.

You gasp as his hands slide down your body, his fingers gently caressing the sides of your breasts as he makes his way to your waist. His lips are so soft against yours and when his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, you moan loudly, letting him swallow up the sounds.

He feels so real under your hands as you trace the jagged scars along his abdomen, and when his tongue glides down your-

You sit up with a gasp, your head pounding with the beginnings of an oncoming wine hangover. Your sheets are messily strewn around you, and your skin is sticky with sweat, but you can't bring yourself to get up. You take a large gulp of water from the glass on your nightstand and check the time: 3:02 AM.

Falling back with a huff, you run a hand over your face and fruitlessly try to sleep through the rest of the night.

***

Summer brings its own set of struggles.

The heat makes each case feel ten times longer than it already is, and with September fast approaching, Jack gets more and more antsy about starting school for the first time.

"He's been shut in his room all day," Jess sighs over the line as you make yourself coffee with your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. "I think he's sad that he's starting school without either of his parents here."

Your heart breaks as you imagine Jack alone in his room, waiting and wishing for his dad to come back in time for his first day of school. Then an idea pops into your head.

"I think I know what to do."

An hour later, you, Jess, and Jack are waiting in line, under the beating sun, to get into the Smithsonian's zoo. Even tho you can already feel the sweat starting to drip down your back, Jack looks downright giddy, so you take the win.

When you finally get inside, he makes a beeline for the monkey exhibits, and you and Jess meander along behind him, chatting about her new side gig.

"I'm starting the part-time job in the fall," she explains as you stop behind Jack at the front of the chimpanzee enclosure. "It works out with the start of the school year, in case Aaron is gone for a while longer."

"That sounds great," you smile, giving her a small side squeeze. "You deserve something to take your mind off of everything too."

She shrugs, ever the neutral party, before looking at you with a smirk. "I hear there are some changes happening at the BAU as well?"

"Right!" you grin, following Jack to the next exhibit. "JJ was helping out temporarily, but she's officially back on the team. She also mentioned to me that she might be considering enrolling in profiler training so she can be a full-time field agent."

"Good for her," Jess smiles. "Lord knows you guys could use some extra manpower right now."

It's right then that your phone chirps with a text from Derek saying that Aaron is calling in again this afternoon. The urge to speak to him for the first time in weeks tugs at your gut, but then you glance over at Jack, who looks happy for the first time in just as long, and before you know it, you're typing back your response: Not today. Busy with Jack.

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you don't have an excuse. 

You're at work, scribbling out the last few lines of your latest case report, when Derek tries to call you into his office. You haven't spoken to him in over a month, and he's asked for you each time he called, but still you refuse.

"Y/N, come on," Derek chuffs, running a hand over his face. "You know he wants to talk to you. He's by himself over there."

That's what gets you. By himself. As though you aren't alone too. As though you hadn't been completely fucking alone when, over the weekend, you found a pair of socks Emily must have forgotten at your place months ago, and had a full body breakdown on the floor of our foyer. 

Each time you're close to forgetting that he left you here to fend for yourself, it comes back in full force, and right now, you would rather do just about anything other than put on a neutral face and ask him how he's doing over there.

"Next time," you say, hoping the finality comes across in your tone. It must have worked, because although Derek shakes his head disappointedly, he doesn't ask again. 

When you go to Aaron's place after work to see Jack, Jess pulls you aside, a worried look on her face. 

"We spoke to Aaron yesterday," she explains, her arms crossed over her chest. The bureau set up a secure line for them so she and Jack could speak to him periodically. "He seemed to be doing well."

"That's great," you say with a nod, unsure of why she's updating you when she thinks you spoke to him today. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving away your concern. "I told him about Jack starting school in a few weeks, and about my new job. Then when I mentioned you - how you've been coming here a lot - he looked really happy that you were involved, but...he sounded off for the rest of the call."

Your shoulders tense up and you try to relax, so as not to give yourself away. "Damn Jess, they should make you a profiler."

She says your name sternly, and you can hear the Haley in her voice. "I'm serious. Have you guys not been speaking?"

"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "I just need some more time, but I'll talk to him soon."

She twists her lips into a sad frown and you sigh, not knowing what to say, but she beats you to it. "He misses you...and I can tell you miss him."

You don't have an answer that she will want to hear, so you stick with the usual. "I'll talk to him next time."

***

"Do I have to go?"

Jack's bottom lip juts out in a sad pout as you adjust the straps of his little backpack on his shoulders. 

"It's your first day of school, bud!" Jess is trying to sound excited, but you can hear the sadness in her voice too, now that she won't have Jack all hours of the day anymore. "It's an exciting time!"

"You got this, baby," you smile, pressing a loud kiss to the top of his head. "Your dad is so proud of you."

"Your mom would be too," Jess adds with a sad smile. "Now go on in, Jack. I'll be right here waiting for you when the last bell rings."

He considers this for a moment, before nodding. Then he looks at you. "What about you?"

"I have to work," you say softly, matching his pout and making him let out a small giggle. "But you can tell me all about your first day when I see you this weekend, okay?"

"Okay," he nods, before grabbing the straps of his backpack and marching toward the front door.

"There he goes," Jess says wistfully, linking her arm through yours.

You let out a small sigh before shooting her a smile. You love him so much, and you're so glad you get to be here as he grows up, but you're so sad that Haley is gone and he's missing out on this moment. "They grow up so fast."

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you're talking to Dave in his office about his latest cabin trip. He is filling you in on the species of fish that live in the lake behind his place when Derek walks in with the notification that Aaron is on the other end of the line in his office.

Dave nods, saying he'll speak with him at the end, and Derek almost skips over you until you follow him out the door.

"You sure?" he asks as you follow him up the stairs.

You nod, bracing yourself for the guilt as you pick up the sat phone. "Hello?"

"Morgan?" Aaron asks, his voice confused over the line. 

"No," you say, shaking your head even though he can't see you. "It's me."

There's a moment of silence before he clears his throat. "Oh, I'm glad you could come in."

You say something that sounds like "of course" and suddenly he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He hasn't heard from you in weeks, and even though he's probably coming home soon, he's so happy to hear your voice he could cry.

"Jess said you were there for Jack's first day," he says slowly, trying to find his voice. "Thank you for doing that. I know it's a lot before coming into work."

"It's not," you say genuinely, momentarily alleviating all of the anxiety he has been having around missing everything in his son's life. "He's the perfect kid. I'm lucky to be a part of his life."

He closes his eyes, wishing with every fiber of his being that he was there with you right now, and not thousands of miles away. "Thank you."

"Any time."

There's silence for a few moments before your breath stutters. "Do you know when you're coming back?"

His heart cracks at the soft sadness in your voice, but he still isn't allowed to share anything that is strictly need-to-know. "I don't."

Your breath catches in your throat and he hears the quiet sob as it breaks over the line. "I miss you, Aaron."

His fingers grip the phone so tightly he's afraid it may shatter in his hands, but there's nothing else tethering him to his life back home. This metal box is the one thing that is keeping him alive out here, and even though he left home so that he could stop lying to you, he's still doing it.

That's why he swallows thickly and says the one thing he knows isn't a lie: "I miss you too."

***

The team got called into the office for an emergency that no one has explained to any of you, and you take a seat in the briefing room as everyone else files in, matching looks of confusion all around you.

"Anyone know what we're doing here?" Dave asks as he leans back in his chair.

You're about to shrug when a figure walks into the room in a dark blue button down and an unfamiliar scruffy beard.

Your eyes widen and your breath leaves your body as you start to stand up, but then he motions for you all to take a seat, so you sink back down. He glances at everyone in the room before his eyes finally land on you. You can't believe he's here. That he knew he was coming back and still didn't tell you.

"What's going on?" Derek asks, breaking your eye contact with a jolt. "Everything all right?" Aaron ignores him. "Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."

You don't know why he's bringing this up again but then he continues. "The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration."

Your heart falls. No, there's no way. "Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security." Your teammates break their silence at the same time. 

"She's alive?"

"But we buried her..."

You're still unable to suck in a big enough breath to regain the ability to speak, but then another figure walks in and you suddenly understand what people mean when they say their heart skips a beat.

"Oh my god," Penelope whispers from behind you as your feet unconsciously carry you forward and toward her. Toward Emily.

You pull her into your arms, relishing the feeling of your friend hugging you back after you thought you would never see her again. Her arms squeeze you tightly and you suck in a shuddering breath, trying to calm down your heart rate.

She's alive. Emily's alive. Aaron's back and Emily's alive.

The thoughts ping pong around your brain, fighting for dominance, but another one buried deeper in your mind floats to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

He lied.

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