#also im sorry that i don’t have the time to do an image description

[mallk-z]

Op of that one post judging the viral miette mispronunciation poll blocked me but I wanted to share this conversation I had with my friend about this whole thing bc I thought it was fascinating anyway bc it’s an interesting explanation as to why it this happened in the first place:

[lveclouds]

↬ pairing/characters: choi seungcheol x reader, other members may make appearances/be mentioned 

↬ genre/aus: lovers to exes, heavy angst, a tiny bit of fluff (mainly from flashbacks), song au, sad ending, slight college/university au, first love, childhood friends 

↬ summary: in which you remember your first and only love and how he broke your heart. 

↬ rating(s): m,18+ (see warnings) 

↬ tw: heavy swearing, mentions of alcohol/heavy consumption (reader gets a bit drunk), failed love (im so sorry), seungcheol breaks reader’s heart but at least he’s a sweetheart about it, reader needs a hug fr (the other members are her support system), bittersweet/sad ending, heartbreak (im so sorry y’all), mentions of bullying (brief, mainly verbal), brief mention/description of a horrible nightmare (seungcheol has one in a flashback), seungcheol is kind of bad at feelings and starts to pull away from reader, miscommunication (smh), mentions of emotional breakdowns (very, very brief and not very detailed)

wc: 4.2k

↬ note: sooo yeah this is yet another fic that came out of left field oops- anyways this fic is loosely based off ‘half a heart’ by one direction, which is one of my favorite angsty songs ever, like of all time. this fic is going to HURT so prepare tissues and brace yourself, for this is quite possibly one of the saddest things i have ever written. also, did i search for a ‘sad one direction songs’ playlist on spotify to write this? maybe. also yeah the summary sucks because i can’t write them to save my life <3 this is also my first scoups fic :) 

tears stung your eyes as you sat in the front seat of your car, knees tucked into your chest, heavy raindrops pelting the windows. you clutched a worn, gray hoodie to your chest, the faint smell of sage and rosewood invading your senses. it’d belonged to your first love, choi seungcheol. he’d lent it to you after a drunken asshole had spilled his drink on your dress during a night out, insisting that it looked better on you than it did him after you’d tried to give it back a few days later. 

the mere mention of his name was enough to make your heart ache. your body shook with soft sobs as images of his gorgeous smile flashed across your mind. the memory of his gentle touches and kisses were burned into your skin like a brand. 

and if you closed your eyes, you could still picture him beside you, lacing your fingers with his as he drove, humming softly to whatever song was playing on the radio, see the utter fondness and adoration in his eyes whenever he looked at you, cleaving your heart into two, never to be made whole again. 

loving seungcheol had been as easy as breathing, and a decision that you would never regret. he was kind, selfless, and loved with all his heart. and while seungcheol wasn’t overly affectionate, he showed it in other ways, whether it’d be through small acts of service or words of affirmation. 

he would always comfort you after a shitty day of classes or work, holding you in his strong arms as you sobbed into his chest. seungcheol was unfailingly patient with you, never pushing you to talk about anything if it was too difficult to do so, and always gave you space and time whenever you needed it. 

it’d been enough to convince you that seungcheol would be a permanent presence in your life. hot tears scalded your cheeks, blurring your vision, and a helpless whimper escaped you, clutching the hoodie tighter, like a lifeline. the day things had ended would forever haunt you, for it was when your entire world had collapsed around you. 

seungcheol hadn’t lashed out or screamed at you like you’d thought he would. instead, he had simply given you a sad, teary smile, holding you flush against him, pressing a soft kiss onto your hair. you had sobbed into his shirt, curling your fingers in the soft fabric, the comforting scent of rosewood and sage hitting your nose. 

“i’m sorry love, i’m so sorry that things between us had to end this way.” “then why? why don’t you stay?” “you deserve better than me.” and with one last kiss to your cheek, soft and gentle, he left, taking your heart with him. 

the days that followed were miserable, and you would’ve likely spent the next few months holed up in your dorm, curled up in your bed, if it weren’t for your friends, dokyeom, joshua, vernon, hoshi, woozi, dino, seungkwan, mingyu, minghao, jun, wonwoo, and jeonghan. they showed up to your dorm, with mingyu threatening to break the door down if you didn’t let them in. 

dokyeom, joshua, woozi, and vernon brought all your favorite snacks and offered to watch all your favorite movies and animes, even the sad ones. hoshi and jeonghan held you when thoughts of seungcheol managed to worm their way into your mind, running gentle hands through your hair and whispering comforting words in your ear. 

dino and seungkwan took you out to your favorite karaoke place, singing all the sad love songs and angry break up songs, and even treated you to some korean barbeque afterward. wonwoo took you on a shopping spree to your favorite local bookstore, insisting to pay for any books you wanted. 

minghao and jun listened to you whenever you needed to rant about how hurt and heartbroken you were about how things had ended between you and seungcheol, offering their advice every now and then. they both hated seeing you so distraught, especially over a man you had bared every piece of your soul to. 

mingyu insisted on making you home-cooked meals, filling your fridge with tupperware laden with your favorite comfort foods. he made sure that you ate at least three times a day, and that you didn’t starve yourself, not even for one second. “i refuse to see someone i care about spiral, and if cooking you a million home-cooked meals and the others tease me for wearing a frilly apron is what it takes to get you to eat, then so be it.” 

you truly didn’t deserve your friends, especially because they took it upon themselves to walk with you to and from your classes, glaring daggers at anyone who snickered upon seeing your bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothing or seemed they would ask questions about why a certain someone wasn’t by your side. 

seungcheol had been your support system for as long as you could remember, even before you’d become a couple. you’d been childhood friends, having lived next to each other in the same small neighborhood for years. 

your families had been very close, always inviting one another to parties or for dinner. you’d met him on a sunny day in march, when the spring flowers were in full bloom, and that day had arguably been the best day of your life, for you’d met your soulmate, your best friend. 

elementary school had been a blur, though you vaguely remembered how seungcheol was fiercely protective of you, threatening to beat up the boys who thought you were weird and way too quiet. he had even gotten into a fight with one boy after he’d insulted you, calling you a freak, which had landed him in detention for weeks. 

high school was eventful, as it was the time you and seungcheol were discovering what you wanted to do with your future, as well as experiencing your first crushes and heartbreaks. during your sophomore year, seungcheol had comforted you after your first breakup, when your then boyfriend had broken up with you over text, stating that he had found someone else. 

he had come over to your house, bringing you all your favorite snacks and watching the cheesiest and trashiest romcoms you could find on netflix, letting you sob into his shoulder and running gentle fingers through your hair. 

“that asshole didn’t deserve you, not for one second. he’s a fucking coward for dumping you over text, and a complete and utter idiot for even considering breaking up with you in the first place. you’re beautiful and kind and the most genuine person i know, and anyone who doesn’t appreciate you for who you are can go to hell.” seungcheol had said when you’d broken the news to him the day after the breakup, immediately taking you into his strong arms and holding you close. 

and, when college began, you began to fall in love with your best friend. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you realized that your feelings for seungcheol were anything but platonic. perhaps it was when you started noticing the broadness of his shoulders and the way the muscles in his arms flexed every time he picked up something, or how a simple smile from him was enough to send your heart racing. 

ultimately, though, it was how seungcheol was always there to support and comfort you in any way he could, always going out of his way to make sure you ate properly, dropping by your dorm at ungodly hours at night, holding plastic bags full of snacks or plenty of takeout boxes, insisting that you eat something before passing out. and, no matter what, he always listened. 

you’d had a habit of rambling, especially when you were stressed or angry, and seungcheol would listen attentively and carefully to every single word, even if it was complete gibberish. he’d always lend you a shoulder to cry on, and was always there to wipe away your tears with a tissue or the pad of his thumb, light green eyes soft. 

you had fallen in love with him, slowly, then all at once, and despite your previous reservations and doubts about if dating your best friend was a good idea, you knew that keeping your feelings bottled up would only make you miserable. 

your confession had been nothing short of emotional, with your heart aching impossibly and tears streaming down your face, out of fear that seungcheol would scorn you or be disgusted. instead, though, he had pulled you into the gentlest kiss of your life, a light touch of lips to lips, and his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. 

you’d felt light, as if a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, for seungcheol hadn’t pushed you away or scorned you. he was the only person that made you feel all those emotions and, as clichè as it was, the only one you felt safe and accepted with. 

like most new relationships, yours had felt straight out of a fairytale. seungcheol was loving, attentive, and extremely caring. and, every time you were apart, he would send you a daily selfie, sending you texts such as: i miss you:(( or make sure to eat today love, okay?  and, if he was feeling particularly sappy, god, you’re so fucking beautiful, i wonder how i got so lucky. 

and sure, some of his texts were extremely cheesy and a bit cringe, but they made you smile all the same. seungcheol always made sure to tell you how much he adored you, and, every night, he would ask to facetime just so he could see your face and say good night. 

when seungcheol would spend the night at your dorm, he would insist on making you dinner, gently shooing you away from the kitchen when you’d tried to help. “i appreciate you wanting to help love, but all i want you to do is sit on the couch and relax, okay? you can even take a nap if you want, i know how exhausting classes can be. i’ll wake you up once dinner’s ready.” 

you sobbed, burying your face into your hands. memories of you and seungcheol sneaking kisses whenever he’d stop at a red light when driving, a warm hand on your thigh, him brushing your hair from your face; the way his eyes crinkled every time he smiled, the loud, boisterous laugh that would spill from him after you’d tell him a terrible joke, light green eyes fond, and the way seungcheol’s kisses had ruined you for anyone else, flashed across your mind. 

even now, you weren’t sure when things had gone wrong. of course, your relationship wasn’t perfect, with your fair share of petty fights here and there, but nothing too major. seungcheol was also a very vocal person, and if he was sad or angry with you, he would communicate as much.

he could also get a bit possessive and jealous at times, especially when you had started to become close with mingyu and his friends. when you had met mingyu, it was during your junior year of college, and after bonding over music, you had become fast friends. then, after a few weeks, mingyu had introduced you to his friends, and the rest had been history. 

while seungcheol was happy that you had people to support and look after you when he wasn’t around, he still had had moments of jealously, sulking and pouting when you would laugh at something mingyu or any of his friends said or when you got distracted by a funny video they would send you. 

though, he usually stopped sulking and pouting after you showered him with kisses or allowed him to use your lap as a pillow whenever you were watching tv or movies with him, carding your fingers through his hair. there were other times where he would purposefully flex his muscles around mingyu, which was a sight that never failed to amuse you, especially because the aforementioned male was a lot taller and a bit more muscular. 

“y/n, why does your boyfriend always look like he wants to murder me every time i so much as breathe?” mingyu had asked you one day over lunch. “it’s kind of hilarious, if i’m being honest.” wonwoo had added, dark hazel eyes glittering with mirth. you had shrugged, struggling to keep a blush from forming on your face. 

“i don’t know, i guess it’s because he’s not used to our friendship yet. but he doesn’t get angry or anything like that when i tell him that i’m spending time with you guys.” “good,” minghao had said after a long stretch of silence, “i don’t have to beat him up then.” at that, seungkwan had snorted. “you can’t even hurt a fly, much less a living, breathing, human.” “i can still try.” the former had mumbled. 

seungcheol had always been a private person, keeping to himself most of the time, and was pretty guarded, even with you. it’d taken a long time for him to open up about his struggles and worries, but you never pushed. you’d waited for him to openly express such things, and it had been worth it. 

throughout your relationship, you had never really seen him cry, for he was usually the one comforting you. that had all changed when seungcheol had called you at an ungodly hour at night last spring, asking if he could spend the night at your dorm. “hi love, i’m sorry if i woke you, i know it’s late.” he had said, voice notably strained, as if he were holding back tears. 

“no, it’s okay, what’s wrong?” a long pause, and then:  “i woke up from a nightmare and i’m feeling so unsettled. is it okay if i spend the night with you, love?” your heart had ached at how vulnerable he sounded. “of course, do you need me to get anything?” “no, i just need you.” 

he’d shown up on your doorstep thirty minutes later, light green eyes red-rimmed from crying, tears streaming down his face, and your heart had ached for him. seungcheol had all but thrown himself into your arms, sobbing into your neck, and you had never seen him break down, not like this. 

the rest of the night had been spent with seungcheol in your arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back and carding your fingers through his soft, dark hair. “do you wanna talk about it?” you’d asked after a while, when his sobs had subsided and his breathing had evened out. “it was horrible, love, absolutely horrible. and fucking terrifying.” your heart broke at how small and helpless he sounded. 

“what was it about? you don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.” seungcheol had shaken his head resolutely. “no, i don’t want to keep this from you. besides, i know that if i keep this to myself, i’ll go fucking insane.”

“it was awful, and i don’t know exactly what caused it, but all i know is that i was standing on the sidewalk, and you were standing on the other side, looking radiant in that light blue dress you love so much, and you stepped out to cross the street, and-god, it f-felt so real, and it was so fucking terrifying.” 

with every shaky syllable, every word that came out of his mouth, you had felt your heart slowly breaking into fragments. it’d been enough for tears of your own to form, and you didn’t bother to keep them from falling. 

“it just.. the dream felt so real.” seungcheol had whispered, voice shaking, and you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped you, holding him closer to you, sobbing into the crook of his neck. 

your heart ached as you remembered how after that night, he had started to become closed off, and pull away from you, little by little. he’d pull away everytime your fingers so much as brushed against each other, and even flinch when you tried to kiss his cheek.

 your dates became tense, awkward, and rushed, even to the point where you would be lucky just to get a few minutes alone with him. and whenever you noticed that he seemed to be bothered by something, seungcheol would refuse to speak to you about it, and became even more guarded than usual. 

it was as if that fateful night had completely changed the dynamic of your relationship. sure, he hadn’t been very open and expressive with his emotions before, but he would always let you know if something was bothering him.  you had tried not to resent seungcheol for it, for you knew that the nightmare was something that had truly shaken him, and was likely the reason why he had suddenly become distant. 

when you’d finally gathered up the courage to confront seungcheol about his strange behavior, you expected him to lash out and yell at you for being so nosy. much to your shock, he had looked at you, light green eyes full of regret.

 “i’m sorry, love, i know that’s a terrible fucking apology, and definitely not the one you deserve, but hurting you was the last thing i wanted to do, and that’s exactly what i did. and i don’t think i’ll ever be able to forgive myself. so, shout at me, argue with me, break my heart. just don’t give up on me.” those words alone had been enough to erase any lingering anger you had, and seungcheol had embraced you afterwards, holding you close while you sobbed into his shoulder. 

outside, the heavy rain had slowed to a gentle downpour, turning the world into mist and water, and you sniffled, hugging your ex-boyfriend’s hoodie to your chest, relishing in the comforting scent of sage and rosewood that somehow still hadn’t faded away. 

you felt absolutely pathetic, sobbing and lamenting over someone you’d broken up with four months ago, but you couldn’t help it. choi seungcheol had been your first and only love, and you weren’t sure if you could ever fully love someone else, even after he had broken your heart. 

a bitter laugh spilled from your lips, unprovoked, and you fought the urge to scream in frustration. seungcheol had ended things because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you, or some bullshit like that. a small, dark part of you believed that the real reason he had ended things was that he just simply didn’t want to be with you anymore, from the way he had purposefully distanced himself. 

at the time, you didn’t even realize that seungcheol hadn’t told you why he had distanced himself from you in the first place, and that alone was enough to ignite the small flame of resentment and anger in your veins. you hated thinking about him, for only the memories were too painful to recall, and it made you want to scream in frustration. 

you were glad that your friends were not around to see you in such a hapless state, for they were all fast asleep at the airbnb you’d rented for the summer. as much as going on vacation with them was painful, as it was something that you and seungcheol did quite often in the past, it was nice to get away from seoul for a little while, even if it was temporary. it’d been joshua who suggested the impromptu trip, insisiting that it would benefit you to be away from home for a few weeks.

and, in a way, joshua had been right. the first few days of the vacation had been peaceful, relaxing, even, and you’d been able to spend time with mingyu and the others without thinking of the man who had ripped your heart into pieces. 

though, there were also nights like these, ones where you were unable to sleep, and your thoughts got the better of you, and the memories of seungcheol were too much to bear, and you snuck out quietly in the middle of the night to get some air. 

you knew that your friends wouldn’t be angry if you woke them late at night, especially if you couldn’t stop thinking about him, but you had noticed the dark circles under their eyes, tired from the long hours of traveling. so, you decided that not waking them would be for the best.

 besides, you weren’t sure if you could bear to see the pitying and worrying looks from them if they knew you were still having emotional breakdowns over someone who had hurt you so deeply. you hastily wiped away a tear you weren’t even aware had escaped, refusing to waste your tears on a failed relationship. 

suddenly, your phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the thick silence of the car, and you nearly jumped at the sudden noise. sighing, you answered the call, not bothering to check the caller id. “y/n?” a deep voice said, and your stomach immediately coiled with dread. 

“wonwoo?” “where the hell are you? we all just woke up and saw you weren’t in your bed, and you weren’t picking up your phone, and now everyone’s worried sick. seungkwan’s practically on the verge of a heart attack right now, and mingyu considered sending out a search party for you, and minghao had to talk him out of it.” 

worry and fear was evident in his voice, and you could hear faint shouting and whispering in the background, and immediately, tears pricked your eyes. “i-i’m s-sorry for disappearing on all of you in the middle of the night, but i-i couldn’t sleep, and i didn’t w-want to wake any of you because i knew how exhausted everyone was from the drive over here and-” 

“y/n”, wonwoo began, tone gentle but firm, “we got plenty of rest these past few days, and you’re our friend, don’t be afraid to wake us up at ungodly hours of night. none of us give a shit if you do, even if you tell us to go get you ice cream from the nearest convenience store because you’re having a late night craving. we want to take care of you, and you will never be a burden to us. you have nothing to apologize for. just come back to us, yeah?” 

god, you really didn’t deserve your friends, not for one second. “o-ok.” wonwoo let out a sigh, the sound more relieved than anything else. “be careful, okay?” “i-i will. a-actually, wonwoo, c-could you stay on the phone with me until i get home? i-i don’t want to drive in silence, and hearing your voice will make me feel safe.” you mumbled, heat flooding to your cheeks, glad wonwoo couldn’t see you blush. “of course, love, anything.” he replied, and, strangely, the use of seungcheol’s old nickname for you didn’t cause your heart to ache like it normally did. hearing it from wonwoo was almost comforting. 

you smiled, put your phone on speaker, and placed it on the center console. as you drove back to the airbnb, wonwoo’s deep, soothing voice filling the small space of your car, you felt lighter than you had in weeks, and all thoughts of your first love vanished from your mind. maybe, just maybe, i’m finally moving on. 

↬ a/n: damn okay i did not expect this fic to be this long lmao anyways yeah that was depressing :’) my next fic will definitely not be as depressing, i swear skdfjsljldjf i have missed posting fics regularly omg it’s been so long :’) last summer, i posted so many fics and GOD i hope i can do that again this year. writer’s block has hit me so hard these past few months and i hate it :(( like i just wanna write :(

sooo yeah i hope you all enjoyed the angst fest that was this fic, and my next one should be the hockey! player mingyu fic i’ve been working on for like months lmao its at 10k and counting right now so it’s probably going to be a whole book at this point slkjdflkjdkjf also i’ve been trying to accomplish my goal of reading 100 books this year, so if any of you have recommendations, pls send them my way <3 (p.s. i like just about anything to do with romance or fantasy) 

i love you guys, and i hope everyone is having an amazing summer so far <3 ! 

tagging: @playmetheclassics​ , @skyjoong​ , @adulttoast​ , @sketchguk​ , @taeyo95​ , @hong-jisoo​ , @shuadotcom​,  and anyone else who wants to read this fic <3 

[letter-from-the-refuge]

Hey, I'm a huge fan of thinking of Crutchie as Jewish. But do you have a citation for the historical Crutch Morris being Jewish. Or are you basing this on Marty Belafsky?

Based on history! We don’t have one exacting citation, but a common hypothesis based on the pieces of citable information we do have.

The most conclusive simply being the fact that the overwhelming majority of people named Morris, a very Jewish name originating from Moshe, are themselves; especially given the time and place in history, when 40% of newsies who answered the 1901 NYC census were Jewish and there weren’t abundant legal or marital ways for a man’s name to be changed in the usa like there are today. Could this have been a false name like Jack Kelly or Blink? Of course, (though I doubt he would have recorded a false name when he was an elected official of the newsboy union) so, as with all other information, this has to be taken with a grain of salt.

We also have one photograph that is commonly associated to be Crutch Morris that many past historians have made the presumption from:

[im going to edit this to add the picture give me a few minutes sorry]

This photo is commonly MIS-ASSOCIATED with Louis Hines’ work documenting New York’s working children in the 1930s. THIS IS INCORRECT. It appears nowhere in his published work. So much as a reverse image search tells us this is actually an undated photograph from the New York Historical Society Archive. @newsieshistory (their presence here is greatly missed) was able to match up the windows in the background to those on the Duane Street Newsboy Lodging House (the actual lodge house the one in the film is based on, where Kid Blink, Crutch Morris, Dutch[y] Johnson, [Swifty] the Rake, Bumlets, Snoddy, Pie Eater, Snipeshooter, among others really lived according to both articles on the strike and nyc census records), while it was operating as a newsboy lodge house, sometime c. 1890-1920. This could be another newsie that lived there during those years meeting the description of Crutch from the rally article, but its as close to a known photo as exists.

I am certain there is more, but I’m currently in the process of moving my historical documents out of google drive to fight the ai so I do not currently have access to my archive, I will attempt to add more tomorrow.

[the-kipsabian]

Yo hi there! I’m very sorry to bother you at this time of the day, just reaching out if you’d be so kind to check the post that I pinned on my blog and maybe give it a little help by boosting/sharing it? it’s for my cat :((( and we need help to get him the dental care he needs. It would really mean the world to me and I understand if you don’t, still appreciate you and stay safe! and btw, please do send me a msg to reply or answer the ask privately instead as I want avoid other blogs to think im a spambot or what, once again im sorry for asking this, praying you’d consider! 🫶🏽🥹

you know what

no 🙏❤

hey kids, lets play a game of spot a scam again!! (im copying the message ive replied with before here and the original is at the bottom if you wish to reblog that one :) just editing this a bit here to show the new stuff they are putting out there in this very message yay!!)

okay this is literally the same story ive seen before at least three times. its word to word the same. youre not even trying

reblogs only from original posts. they have gotten "smarter" tho as this blog followed me in attempts to try to show its "real". and yet they havent reblogged from blogs they supposedly follow, only from probably the top posts from some popular tags and only from the original posters. also please note literally all the posts in their blog have been reblogged today within the past three to four hours (apparently im so loopy i cant read times rn, its been about the past 15 to 16 hours but the point still stands, they are all reblogged within the last 24 hours)

also they try to act more human with a decent description and likes and follows turned off. dont try hun

their only original post as far as i scrolled (which admittedly wasnt very far as its obvious this is a scam lol) is the donation post. unsurprisingly

ive said it before and i'll say it again - they seem to target people in similar positions that they are supposedly in, trying to pluck that sympathy cord with "your pet is sick so you are sensitive and know how this feels". this isnt my case rn but i obviously have posted cat photos and i have a donation ko-fi link in my pinned post sssoooo

"pls consider answering this ask privately" lmao so what people dont know youre a scammer? NEXT (they literally say this now like lmaooo for real? so that people dont think youre a scam bot?? honey please are you even trying)

a simple search even within tumblr tells you people already know about this. the account, the story and the cat. you aint fooling anymore

if unsure kids, ask a friend and google things 👍 reverse image search, for example, is your best friend!! also googling the latter half of the given paypal name reveals immediately that this is a scam. plastered all over the first search page lmao

also kids, in case youre asking "well what bad could a one little me reblogging a post even if its a scam do if i dont donate :/" 1. im sorry what and 2. it makes them look legitimate which they are not. the more notes the more trusted the source cause tumblr is full of idiots (sorry not sorry ive been here for over 11 years i know what people are like) plus you put your friends, mutuals and followers in a risk of participating in a scam. and have your name associated with it as well. do i need to go on?

anyways hi go report this blog and always be hesitant if someone you dont know asks you for donations like this. unless its a beloved mutual on your dash, reconsider. stay safe, thanks 💜

looking forward to being unfollowed and blocked immediately after posting this, but i'll be sure to report you for a scam. :) also fuck you for using someone elses poor cat and their situation to literally scam good natured people out of money, what the fuck is wrong with you

peace and love, fuck you ✌💜

[kylejsugarman]

hiiii i know we aren’t mutuals and i’ve never sent anything off anon before so this is literally like (comic of the guy saying “that’s scary… i don’t know…”) but i was inspired by thefoxinator and i love your ocs and i have far too much time on my hands so!! i made Her…

i am supremely awful at recognizing and recreating faces but i hope you can kind of see baby in there… i went off your drawings and descriptions and the refs you posted for the little details. it is so damn hard to get pics of sims with their mouths open but i did give her the tooth gap, freckles, plus eye bags because sleep is hard sometimes :( but yeah! for the outfit i was thinking like that weird time in the morning where ur like getting ready to leave the house but not all there yet (<- wanted any excuse to give her the shark slippers) so she’s all bundled up to face the cold and ofc a beanie she took off her j’s dresser when he wasn’t looking. i found out someone else already asked re: traits a while ago so i gave her Good and then i don’t have Animal Lover but i also gave her Bookworm and Serious! couldn’t find a great aspiration for her undying love of Creatures but i finally settled on Little Explorer, which i thought kind of fit her whole “i want to see the ocean. up close” attitude.

anyway i hope u like this i had a really fun time doing it :) i’ll prob make demi tomorrow when i am less Sleepy. also sorry for the shit image quality, am not beating the “made baby on my laptop then took pictures with my phone” allegations lol

I AM???? "i hope u like this" I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!! oh my god the thought and care u put into crafting her?? u have no idea how incredibly touched i am that u went to the lengths of literally looking at refs and old asks to do this, it genuinely makes me want to cry. and she looks SO cute!! the stolen beanie, the shark slippers, the little explorer :') this is amazing, thank u so much. this made my whole morning!! also even if we're not mutuals, u guys should never feel shy abt sending stuff or coming off anon!! im just some guy. but seriously, thank u SO much and i love my baby :'')

[zvdvdlvr]

⭐ -> star! ships. send your sexuality, gender, and a description of yourself and what fandoms you're in. ( as long as i'm in said fandom lol ) ill ship you with 1 or 2 characters!

i have long wavy black hair and dark chocolate brown eyes. i like spring a lot! especially because flowers start blooming around that time and i think flowers are lovely. i also really like to doodle. it’s fun, it’s quick, and  it’s relaxing!! but art in general is one of my passions. also music is almost always playing in the background whenever i do things.  and i really love rom coms and romance novels!! idc if it’s really cheesy, i just think it’s cute! i definitely believe in true love, even if i don’t think i might be able to meet mine. my favorite color is maroon! i’m also a virgo and i value my grades a lot and that can spiral in the wrong direction at times. i’m also short, 5”1 to be exact, and people tell me that i have small hands. i love high fives though, so i get that comment quite a lot. my love language is either touch or words of affirmation. i’m leaning towards words of affirmation but touch does help keep me grounded. i occasionally wear rings but i always my earrings and this one necklace. and i’d like to think that i’m a nice person! i really like to explain things to people if they don’t understand a topic and i’m pretty good at it too. i have really high expectations for myself and sometimes if i don’t meet that expectation i breakdown. i tend to cry easily, it’s not okay and is something that i’m working on. i’m bisexual and i’m in harry potter, marvel, and outer banks! it’s fine if you can’t do this and i’m sorry for writing so much! 

ily jules! congratulations on the milestone and take care xx

Hello angel :)) ily more, and you take care as well. i hope you enjoy!!

From the Harry Potter Universe, I ship you with...

James Potter!

(depending on your image of James <3)

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 would totally poke a little fun at your height, but he's made it clear he finds it endearing and he doesn't wish to upset you if he says something mean. Whenever he sees flowers, he thinks of you! While in school, James would always admire any and all nature forms with 'i know yasmine would adore this <333". Absolutely 100% will do/help you with homework, depending on the subject; James feels bad whenever he sees you cry, and he'll do anything to keep you from crying if he can help it :((( <333. Praises and gives you feedback about everything (they don't call him James motormouth Potter for nothing smh). Loved holding your hand because of how small they are and its a way for him to calm down. Will drop everything to make sure you're okay, it doesn't matter where you both are at. Loves when you ask for his input on jewelry and will spoil you rotten 🥰

(i'm only on season one of obx, so im so sorry if this is bad!)

From the Outer Banks universe, I ship you with:

Kai Cerrara!

Ok but 𝐊𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐚 would probably love doing your hair because "it's literally so pretty, shut up!" Dancing to music on the beach or in a boat is a must, Kie definately tells you something like "ur legally required to sing cheesy love songs with me while we shimmy and dance around falling further in love with each other" idk I wasn't there 🤷. Kiara lovesss when you give her your random doodles/sketches :'( and would never throw them away. Asks you questions about things you like and know a lot about so she can hear your pretty voice explain things to her <3. I HAVE A BLURB IDEA: snuggling with Kie and her resting on your shoulder while you both read a romance novel or smth 😕❤️❤️ Would also get matching sets of like earrings, bracelets, necklaces, etc. Loves complimenting you :)

From the MCU, i ship you with...

Yelena Belova!

𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚, for one, adores any and all piercings you have- specifically ear piercings. I feel like Yelena also would love braiding your hair and matching outfits and jewelry with you. Watching romance/comedy movies are a must, since Yelena missed out on... a lot when she was brainwashed. Loveloveloves any and all affection you show her, and would be someone to give you random high fives whenever you do something you're proud of. Yelena would often buy small plants (pink polka dot, succulents, anything really) she thinks you'd like (but small enough to be kept out of Fanny's reach). If you both were bored one day and you were laying on the couch, Fanny asleep on your lap. "Wanna watch a movie, detka?" Yelena asked, flopping on your opposite. Immediately a large smile spread across Yelena's face at the speed of which yasmine's stetchbook and pencil were discarded and replaced with the remote. "You choose," Yelena requested, pulling the shared fluffy maroon blanket up to her neck.

Please keep in mind this is only my second ship, so I apologize if this is bad!! ❤️

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hiiiiii ! could I get a romantic marauders era and lighting era harry potter matchup?

i just turned 19. I’m bi with a lean towards males. Im black. I have brown black eyes, i have mid back EXTREMELY curly black hair but my natural hair is shoulder length and brown. Sometimes(rarely) I wear black circular glasses. im 5' 3” almost 5’ 4”. I’m not plus but I’m not thin either and I’m natural hourglass. Barely noticeable tho.

i'm ambiaverted, so like I like talking to people but I don’t like approaching the person and then I’m pretty awkward when I talk to people for the first time. When I’m with my friends I’m the loudest in the group unless I’m annoyed or just don’t like you very much. In public tho I don’t talk at all if I don’t know anybody.

Im academically smart and a bit street smart if I really think but I’m also really lazy when. I want to be. People tell me I’m a really fast learner.

I’m very loyal to my friends to the point were I end up getting myself into deep trouble. Most of my fiends are loud and spontaneous, but calm when need be while I’m calm most of the time but can be loud when I feel like it.

i play cello and love singing. My music taste is all over the place and I pretty much will listen to anything if it sounds good imo. . i love painting and drawing. my love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and time.

I have HUGE self image problems and insecurities, both physical, emotional, and mental. I’m really insecure about pretty much everything I do.

I have a verrrry large family. When I mean large I mean fourteen aunts and uncles, family members living in all seven continents, five half siblings, siblings I haven’t even met (my family is weird), my family tree is probably intewined with at least five other trees, etc. but i grew up with just my mom so I’ve always been kinda lonely and felt unwanted.

sorry for the long description ik this is probably hard to match up and doesn’t make any sense but I would REALLY appreciate this! tysm :D

Hey! Thank you so much for requesting a matchup!! I hope you enjoy it!! <33 Come back soon! :)

Harry Potter (Marauders Era);

Sirius Black:

🐾 You had known of Sirius all throughout your years in Hogwarts, sharing a few classes with him along with having heard of his pranks with James Potter; at first, you didn't know what to think of him, but that changed quickly

🐾 You watched him from afar for the first couple of years, but at a house party with your friends, he came over to talk to you; you

🐾 You were a bit awkward and hesitant, but having your friends near helped a bit, and you were thankful that he came to you instead of vice versa; surprisingly, the conversation easily flowed, minus a few awkward hiccups here and there

🐾 You had thought after that party that maybe you had embarrassed yourself to the point that Sirius would never speak to you ever again, but he surprised you again by stopping you in the hall when you were on your way to class; you couldn't even believe your luck when he asked if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him

🐾 You were a bit worried that Sirius was only talking to you because of his... Playboy persona, that he wanted to add you to his list, but when Sirius took you out on that Hogsmeade date... You felt incredibly special

🐾 Sirius took you to that tea shop where you spoke about your favorite classes, professors, hobbies, and such; that's when Sirius confessed, somewhat awkwardly, that he wanted to ask you out for a while, ever since third year

🐾 It didn't take long for the two of you to start dating, and Sirius just loved to show you off, by the end of the month, everyone in Hogwarts knew you were an item

🐾 After graduating from the magical school, both you and Sirius were able to find a nice quiet cottage in the forest where you and Sirius spent the next couple of years; your time together was spent painting, practicing your cello Sirius had gotten you, and hanging out with the fellow Marauders

🐾 Sirius always makes sure that you know that he loves you, everyday he would tell you how much he admired and adored you, how wonderful and beautiful you are; he'd shout it on the top of your cottage roof if he had to, (and he would, Sirius wants the whole world to know how much he loves you)

🐾 You were so happy that you went to that party with your friends, and you were so happy that Sirius came up to you; you love Sirius so much and you can not wait for the years to come

--

Harry Potter (Lightning Era);

Fred Weasley:

🃏 You met Fred when you curiously wandered into his and his twin brother's shop one morning, your curiosity got the best of you and you had to know what was inside

🃏 While you were browsing, a tall red-head popped up beside you asking if you were looking for anything specific and/or needed any help

🃏 You felt a bit awkward, slightly flustered as you told him you were just looking and the young man gave you a smile, before offering you his hand to shake; he introduced himself as Fred Weasley

🃏 At the name, you realized you knew who he was, you had been a year older than him in Hogwarts, seeing him with his twin going around pranking professors and peers alike

🃏 For the next week or so, you gained the courage to come back to the shop, even though you never purchased anything, you merely came to see the eldest twin

🃏 You were surprised when Fred offered you a job at the joke shop, and you decided to take it, finding that your job was an easy one, restocking shelves; it also gave you more time with Fred

🃏 After a while, Fred asked if you wanted to go to dinner with him, to which you were a bit hesitant, as you were his employee after all; Fred had the same worries, noticing your hesitance, telling you that it was alright if you didn't want to go

🃏 You really liked Fred a lot, so the next day at work, after the children and skeptical parents left, you nervously asked Fred out to dinner; you could still remember the smile on his face and the way his cheeks and eye lit up

🃏 Dinner was amazing, eating at a small restaurant near the shop, you and Fred spoke about everything and anything, and Fred was happy to see you open up; he fondly admired the smile on your face and your sweet laugh as he retold a prank of his and his twin's

🃏 Fred cares deeply for you, making sure you are alright mentally and physically, and if you aren't be prepared to be bombarded with a lot of hugs, sweet words whispered in your ear, and all the time with him in the world

[spacexseven]

HII!! I was wondering, could you describe or get a reference image or maybe draw an image for your mer au characters. I have a very hard time imagining what they look like despite reading ur descriptions about them (you’re not the problem, I promise, I just suck at envisioning character descriptions) Also when I say draw, I don’t mean like professionally Im refer to just a little scribble. Im sorry if this comes off as rude. (If you would like to do one character, can you Dazai? because I have a hard time grasping what he looks like.)

so i'm the farthest thing from an artist but also. you all can imagine these guys in any way you like :> the conversations between me and our friend dazai anon are just like headcanon things! other than the fact all the mers have claws and fangs, i wouldn't mind if you imagined them a different way. if the idea of eelzai makes you uncomfortable, or you can't figure out the visuals, you can imagine him however you like! he's just Big, it's up to your interpretation otherwise. hope this helps !!

[dearestones]

Death Note Matchup: Matt/Mail Jeevas

Warnings: Fluff.

@ll4wliet Request: may i request a death note matchup? i prefer something platonic :D any gender is fine

i have short, black hair, very messy, im 150 cm, i guess thats it. My hobbies are playing games, doodling (and drawing, etc), window shopping (is that a hobby? i dont know but i just like to look at stuff.). My interests are death note, bee and puppycat, random toys, pokemon, plushies, vocaloid, collecting (i dont really collect stuff but i'd like to sometime.). I'm a bit awkward with new people and I'll usually mind my business, but I'm fine with talking with people I'm okay with and can hold a conversation with. I have trouble with talking to people most times, it ends up awkward. For people I'm close with I'd love to talk with for hours, especially when it's something I'm interested in. I get distracted alot, i sometimes zone out and not pay attention to something (especially during some games i play), I'm a picky eater sometimes. I can get fascinated by random images and waste my time scrolling on tumblr (honestly thats the only social media i have other then tt), especially when its something of my interest. I am very forgetful, i tend to do some things last minute. And thats it i guess? i hope i didnt go over the word limit but i am very sorry if i did!

.

.

.

After reading through your description, I believe that you match well with Matt or Mail Jeevas!

What a coincidence, Matt also happens to like some of your hobbies; gaming is what really catches his eyes, though. He’ll gladly take you window shopping, but you have to be patient whenever he visits video game stores once you’re done with your own shopping experience. And if something in particular catches your eye, Matt will definitely give you some of his money to buy it. Don’t be shy! He’s got way more in several offshore accounts and from escapades that are from legal. 

Matt usually keeps to himself, often deferring to others when it comes to socialization, but he finds himself drawn to you. He’s had his fair share of dealing with awkward people, especially when he was growing up in an orphanage, so he knows how to navigate your personality and help you to open up. 

When you do finally warm up to him and start holding conversations, he will definitely enjoy what you have to say. He wants to know all your thoughts, your feelings, your hobbies, and your interests. It doesn’t matter if you sound awkward or he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, he just wants to be there with you experiencing the nuances and flavors of your voice. 

He’ll definitely tease you when he realizes that you get distracted a lot. He might pinch your cheek or wave his gloves in front of your face to get your attention back. If the both of you are comfortable with it, he’ll definitely try to kiss you on any parts of your face just so that he can see the lovely look in your eyes when you realize that you’ve been drifting off again. He might get a little irritated if you’re playing a game that requires more than one player, but he won’t hold it against you for too long. 

Ooohh, he would like to know what sorts of foods that you like to eat and what you don’t eat. Certain textures and smells don’t always agree with him as well, so he has a certain diet that he sticks to just so he has enough nutrition throughout the day. (Yes, he is including junk food as adequate nutrition because he is still a gamer and needs to maintain his reputation, thank you very much). 

Please don’t show this man your tumblr account. He’ll tease you for using this website for a few minutes before checking out your blog. If you have the standard theme and profile picture that comes with the website, he’s definitely going into your code and updating it. You have an idea for a new theme? A certain aesthetic that you ascribe to? Never fear, Matt will either find you a new theme with an adaptable source code or he’ll make it from scratch. Depending on what route he takes, you’ll find that your theme is both pretty modern and user friendly once he gives you your tumblr back. 

Forgetful and procrastinating? Now you’re speaking Matt’s language! He also tends to put things off until the last minute. It’s not that he is trying to forget things on purpose, it’s just that the world is far more exciting than some of his priorities, you know? If you are worried about forgetting important things, Matt will try to help you out, but he won’t always be successful. He’ll tease you from time to time, but encourage you to write down tasks so that you remember better next time. 

Overall, you’re a pretty low maintenance couple. There might be times when Matt may have to pull away for some time alone, but that’s because of his laidback and introverted disposition. 

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

[thankyoumskobayashi]

PSA CAT SCAM

hey everyone i have found the most recent iteration of the cat scam. the scary thing is that it looks like a real person's blog, full description, blog theme, and everything

this message has been improved to make the reader feel bad for saying no. plaintext for the above image reads: Hi! Im really sorry for coming across like this, i hope im not stepping out any boundary, just in need of dire help right now as my cat needs some emergency treatment and im on financial bind. Im trying to raise some funds for him and I’m hoping that you’d be so kind to help us even by just spreading the word out. I made a post about it on my blog and pinned it, i know times are tough right now for and its a few days before Christmas, just wanted to atleast get the care he needs before its too late. I feel so bad 😭 i hope you would consider, also pls if maybe answer the ask privately or send me a message instead? its just that people sometimes tend to get weird on these things. 🙏😭

end of plain text. did reading that make you feel bad? good, that's what it was designed to do.

they have a full blog description even if some of it is nonsensical. unique icon and blog color scheme and some cartoony header.

plaintext for this blog's description from the second image above reads as follows: She/Her/ | 31 | Cat and Vampire coded | Have claimed dibs on the silver wolf at recess xp | Just a girl out here trying to find her way through this hell of a life. I still don’t know what I’m doing so if I over step a boundary please inform me also

end of plaintext for description.

they have reblogged some overwatch shit. it's just a shame that their first post was from yesterday as if they made this blog for scammy purposes

i'm not censoring this url because maybe someone out there knows how to report scams (i have forgotten or tumblr simply doesn't have an option for it.) anyways, this person has been blocked, so be careful they might improve the scam in the future.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

I have a Shikamaru request! It’s a bit long winded so dust with me 😊. Shikamaru is assigned to protect reader who is the last of her clan that a lot is not known about. (So he also has the secret mission of finding our more about the clan and their abilities). They end up falling for each-other (of course). And after reader finds out she is pregnant she learns that Shikamaru was meant to learn about her. I’m seeing some angsty fluffy goodness! And hopefully a happy ending. 🥰

Healing You (Shikamaru x Reader)

A/N: Thank you for your request! These long detailed ones are perfect and give me just enough information to give you the perfect story. I skipped the pregnancy part because im not totally comfortable with that...hopefully you still enjoy.

word count: 5500

Shikamaru had been anticipating this mission for a while. The Hokage told him it was of utmost importance to be ready at any time for this clan princess to show up. He was expected to drop all other missions or plans to escort this woman, whoever she was across the country to her homeland deep within Frost country. He wasn’t expecting much, actually he was expecting probably the worst client ever.

For someone to request escort at the drop of a hat like that, someone with enough money to do so as well... Shikamaru could only assume they were an asshole of the highest caliber. Probably some old woman or a spoiled little child, someone he definitely would not get along with for a month long mission just the two of them. He could remember the urgency in Kakashi’s tone when he assigned the mission, the amount of trust behind his words.

Shikamaru walked into the office casually, hands shoved deep in his pants pockets. Kakashi sat there alone at his desk, looking through paperwork and sifting through piles of white sheets, each with different names and faces. He must have thought long and hard about who he was to pick for this mission, the boy concluded.

This was going to be tiresome, he deduced quickly. Another tedious mission.

“Shikamaru, I have an important mission for you,” the man said clearly. “You can look through these files, if you want, but we don’t have any clear information on this one, I’m afraid.” He tossed over a folder full of records. Death receipts, birth certificates, first hand accounts of battles witnessed. He didn’t know what to make of what he was looking at other than a common last name running across the pages.

Hirawa.

“What is this about?” he questioned.

“In about a month's time, possibly longer, possibly shorter, I don’t have an exact date, you will escort Princess Y/N Hirawa, of the hidden Hirawa clan to the Land of Frost.”

“Who’s on my team?”

He shook his head at that question. “No one. This is a solo mission, and I’m entrusting you alone with this. It’s important you keep your mouth shut about all of this until we know it’s safe, for you and the princess.” Safe? Just what kind of mission was this anyway? Obviously it had something to do with this clan, not that he’d ever heard of them. “She has a bounty on her head, quite large at that. But we believe she can become the key to mastering some ninjutsu, particularly medical jutsu.”

“Well, what’s her clan’s kekkei genkai?”

“That’s what we don’t know, and for you to find out. All we know is that there's some dangerous people out there who want this power, and we need to protect her at all costs, you understand,” he stressed, and Shikamaru nodded. This wasn’t that big of a deal, he guessed. Protecting one girl from some rookie bounty hunters, not to mention he was being sent out alone. This was going to be a walk in the park.

The worst part of it all would be putting up with some troublesome girl for an entire month. Making conversation and having to pretend she wasn’t getting on his last nerve. That would tire him the most.

“Rumor has it, she was never able to awaken her ability, so I’m hoping you can help coax it out of her and see what we’re dealing with.”

“Of course. I’ll figure it out.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. You should take the files to look over in your free time, you’ll have lots of it before this mission. I have copies here for myself,” he motioned to another folder on her desk filled to the brim with papers just like the one he was holding. It was strange to have so much information at their fingertips, but not enough to put a description to their kekkei genkai. They must be secretive, similar to how the Uchiha hides their secrets on the stone tablet, or something.

He left the Sixth Hokage’s office and walked away to his home, where he could more closely go over the information in this folder, try to deduce something from all this random information. He would get to the bottom of this, he was a genius after all. Whether he had the help of this woman or not, he would figure it out for the Hokage.

And so, here he stood outside of Kakashi’s office with all his supplies packed in his bag, dressed for a long mission away from home. The princess had arrived. He was to meet her and then immediately they were supposed to leave off to her homeland.

The Anbu officer to his left opened the door, and motioned for him to walk in. So uptight for just a little meeting, was all this security really necessary, he wondered to himself. As he looked into the room, he spotted Kakashi standing along the window behind his desk with a smaller woman at his side, wrapped up in thick robes made of wool, embroidered with thick silver and white yarn.

Admittedly, her clothes looked incredibly expensive. He questioned how she wasn’t sweating bullets with the typical warm weather outside here in Konoha. He was expecting her to turn around, to be this hideous creature.

“Ah, Y/N, it seems your escort has arrived,” Kakashi hummed, placing a soft hand on the woman’s back as she turned around. When he finally got a good look at her face, he was taken aback, nearly enough to throw him off balance. She was decidedly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Wrapped up in those blankets was a young woman, who couldn't be much older than he was, with piercing eyes that immediately cut through his.

Her hair fell just perfectly around her face to frame her features, the soft color suiting her eyes and skin perfectly. Her eyelashes flickered over her eyes a few times as she gazed over at him, and he felt swoon. She had the softest skin he’d ever seen combined with those mesmerizing eyes and the shape of her face which looked like it belonged cradled in his hands.

He felt this inert urge to run in the opposite direction from her, out the room and down the hall, back to home where he could catch his breath. He already knew his cheeks were turning bright red under her stare, and he could tell Kakashi was judging him with those dark eyes of his.

“It’s nice to meet you, Shikamaru Nara,” she hummed, and he felt faint. Even her voice was precious, almost like she was singing. He choked down his breaths, trying to keep his cool the best he could. It was uncharacteristic of him to act this way with a client. He was just her escort, not some pervert. They were going to live together for basically a month, he needed to get a grip on his emotions. “Your Hokage was telling me great things about you.”

“Oh, uh,” he paused, frozen without words to leave his lips, just an empty mind full of her image. He shook his head a bit, eyes now glaring down at the floorboards beneath him. “You too, Princess.”

“Please, just call me Y/N. Princess is just too formal for me,” she told him, waving off the title almost as quickly as it left his mouth. “Kakashi, it was nice getting to know you this morning, I hope to see you and your wonderful village again soon.”

“You’re welcome back whenever you like.”

She rounded the table and approached Shikamaru carefully, eyeing him down as she did so. She took in his appearance and his stance, the emotions she could see radiating off his person from his body language. From the looks of it, he simply appeared flustered and confused. Not exactly the most ideal for the situation at hand, but they would manage. Men usually had a similar reaction when they saw her for the first time, either they were in awe or they were trying to kidnap her.

He nodded in her direction and then to the Hokage before turning around and starting out the door, the girl following closely behind him. He could hear the swishing of her thick robes around her ankles, just barely skimming the floor. He still didn’t know her personality at all, but he wouldn’t mind looking at her once in a while on this trip.

“So, why are you heading to the Land of Frost?” he asked, and she sighed.

“One of the village elders is dying. They believe my kekkei genkai is the only way to reverse the incoming death, and its consequence on my people,” she explained.

“Why doesn’t another one of your clan members do it? Surely the rest of your family lives-”

“There is no one else. I am the last living Hirawa,” she told him simply, and he could sense a bit of ice dripping off her tongue at those words. How could she not be upset recalling the annihilation of her entire clan. “The problem is that I haven’t been able to awaken my kekkei genkai. I’m not sure what they want with a useless Hirawa like me.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about your clan, but calling yourself useless really isn’t-”

“How would you feel, Shikamaru, if you were the only person in the world with the ability to save a human being from their certain death and you couldn’t even activate that gift? You have to understand how that feels for me,” she told him solemnly, her head hung low as she walked toward the gates of the village right beside the boy. People looked at her as she moved through the village, they stared in awe at her clothes and her face and the unique glimmer in her eyes. And she cowered inward, tucking herself into her robes and the fur of her hood even further, away from the prying eyes of this village.

He stayed silent, not really knowing how to respond to what she’d said to him. The sadness and the anger in her tone, deep within her words, was immeasurable. She was in pain, a conflict with herself. He wasn’t going to get into that just yet. They’d only met a few minutes ago.

They left the village together and started on their journey. It was going to be a long month, that’s for sure.

________

It had been a week of walking through the forest already, days of sleeping on the ground beneath the stars, eating rations out of his bag over the fireplace. Originally, he thought this mission would be easy, that she seemed like a normal-ish girl who wouldn’t give him any trouble, but he was wrong.

She was too quiet. It was strange, walking with someone for hours without a single word shared between them. He tried to start up a conversation, and she would reply with one word answers, sometimes if he was lucky, two or three words. She rarely looked at him, choosing to either stare at the ground where she took each step, or up at the stars and the vastness of it all. She was lost in her own mind.

Every night, as they were falling asleep, he could hear her looking over at him, scanning his form for a sign that he was still awake. He would remain still, facing the opposite way on his side, head propped up on his bag. Then, when she thought she was safe, he would hear the sobs run through her weak form. She would shake and quiver, curling in on herself and crying out into the forest for only Shikamaru and the moon to hear.

He felt terrible for her, needless to say. The guilt he felt just from hearing her cries, and knowing her internal struggle was enough to make this trip difficult. His heart hurt for her, as strange as that was to say. Normally, it was easy to remain objective, but with Y/N, it was different. He felt attached. He felt like her problems were also his. It was maddening.

She laid on the ground beside him, the majority of her soup still in her bowl and her water bottle resting at her side. She stared up into the clouds, occasionally, her eyes would slide over to see what he was up to and then she would look back at the sky. “You need to eat. We have a lot of walking until we reach the next town, probably a week’s worth. I can’t carry you if you get too tired,” he told her, pushing her bowl closer to her side.

“You know, Shikamaru, sometimes I wonder why people like you Leaf nin even protect someone like me. What’s the point? I’m useless to you and the enemy,” she muttered hopelessly. He still pushed the soup closer until she sat up and took the bowl into her hands, taking a small sip from the spoon. “I just don’t get it. How can you call me princess when I’m just as normal as the next woman on the street?”

“Listen, I don’t know what anyone else has told you, but that’s a load of bullshit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, just because you can’t access your abilities right now doesn’t make you useless. You’re still a person just like everyone else,” he explained, stabbing his spoon into his soup as he found himself getting a little worked up. He couldn’t stand this self-pitying bullshit from her. Yeah, she was sad and all, but she didn’t have to rub it into the wound like this.

She looked surprised at his words.

What did she expect him to say? That she was right and then just abandon her out in the woods? He was beginning to think this girl was just plain stupid.

“It’s just been impossible since the incident to think of anything else. I’m sorry for upsetting you,” she sighed, taking another sip of her now cold soup.

He questioned carefully. “What incident?” He was on a mission after all. To discover her clan secrets and bring them back to the village to study. Even if she was being emotional, he could still gather some intel.

She bit her lip, and looked up to the sky again, blinking back tears from gathering in the corners of her eyes. She took a few deep breaths before explaining herself. “The day my clan was massacred. The day that those people slaughtered my sensei in front of the entire village and then killed my parents.”

He paused, lifting his eyes to look at her. She was crying, as he expected, silent tears dripping from her eyes into her lap. But she was holding strong otherwise, not a falter in her voice or a catch in her breath. She wasn’t even shaking. She was really serious about keeping these emotions private, in the middle of the night where he couldn’t hear or see.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he assured, but she shook her head.

“I’m fine. I should talk about it anyway. I haven’t had a person to talk to in years, you know.” Sitting on her face was the saddest of all smiles, a weak attempt at remaining strong. She wiped at her eyes with her wrist and continued. “I’m not even sure why they wanted us all dead, but it had something to do with the war and my clan’s actions. They were barbaric. They slit the throat of my sensei in town square and we watched her blood drip across town while they carried her head.”

“Oh, damn.”

“I know,” she agreed, “As sick as it is to say, I’m glad they only stabbed my parents with a sword. We used to be royalty, it took them killing an entire army of soldiers to get to the throne room to kill them. I was only a child hiding in the curtains, I had to watch without making a sound. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t even breathe, or they would have killed me too.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. That’s horrific.”

“When they left, it was only me. I had to walk my way to one of the outer villages for help. I was a mess, covered in my parents blood. They’d stolen everything. All the secrets of the clan. I never got the chance to read the sacred texts. I only know from my Sensei the very basics of what we can do.”

He absorbed what she had said, taking in each word. Admittedly, she lived a terrible, horrible life, one to rival Sasuke at that. He asked, “You haven’t been able to retrieve any of the texts, have you?”

“No, unfortunately. That’s why it’s taken me this long to figure out how to unlock my ability. I literally do not know how,” she confessed, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “It feels strange, knowing I have this ultimate healing ability and I can’t even use it to save anyone.”

“Ultimate healing ability?”

“Well, yeah. That’s our kekkei genkai. We can heal basically anything besides death. Blindness, deafness, rotting limbs, in some cases, paralysis. I’m not sure how it works, but that’s what it does. That’s why they want me to come home so desperately. I’m the only one left who can heal her.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he stated bluntly, and she tilted her head to the side in confusion.

“What?”

He reiterated, “You’ll figure out how to use your kekkei genkai. I believe in you. You’re beautiful, smart, and modest, not a fool.”

She found her cheeks begin to heat up at his words, and she leaned back, her eyes catching onto his. “Thank you, Shikamaru. It’s not everyday I get earnest compliments like that.” It was true. Normally, she did get compliments, but not the nice kind. She would often get harrassed on the street by men without brains, or recieve backhanded comments from people of her own village who hated her for what she could not be.

He shook his head, “Well, you should. You’re a strong woman, you just need more faith in yourself. You have almost no self-confidence whatsoever.” He was right about that too. Sad, wasn’t it? “You’re obviously a good person, so be proud of yourself. Not a lot of people could have gone through what you did and still be on the good side to this day.”

“I-” Y/N froze, her eyes growing wide. “Did you hear that?” she asked, her eyes flickering from Shikamaru into the woods. There were voices, soft and quiet voices, but they were still there, hush in the background. He stood up on his feet, and motioned for her to stay down close to the ground.

“Come out, whoever you are.”

And, indeed, a group of men emerged from the forest, at least ten of them. They sauntered up to the pair and the leader smirked. “We’re not here to hurt you, Leaf shinobi. Just hand over the princess and no harm will come to you,” he said, his voice musty and disgusting, like he’d been smoking cigarettes everyday for the past ten years. They knew, clearly, that a leaf shinobi wasn’t just about to abandon their charge and go running for the hills. His request was a joke.

Y/N wasn’t a fighter. She couldn’t help even if she wanted to. She was solely a healer, and even then, her skills were shaky at best. She could only do the most menial and mediocre of work on her patients. Shikamaru was against these men completely alone.

She felt fear creeping up her spine and sending shivers through her body. She barely knew the boy, had only known him for a week or so, but damn, did she like him. He was kind to her, one of the kindest people she’d met in a long time. She wanted him to be safe, to save her and come out on top like the shinobi of the Leaf are supposed to.

He turned around and waved for her to run. “Princess, Imma need you to run. I’ll come find you when it’s safe. Just go.”

She was hesitant to take off, but one stern look from him shot down any thought of staying. The woman gathered up her robes and ran in the opposite direction of the crew and her protector. Immediately after she left, she heard screaming from behind, the shouts of men in pain and men filled with anger. So much yelling. She held her breath, and kept running, running until she could only hear the faint yells of the men. She couldn’t hear Shikamaru. He was far too quiet to have those loud theatrics on the battlefield.

Y/N took cover in the roots of a tree, and just listened, felt what was going on around her. She studied the chakra signatures floating through the air, counting how many men still lived and how many were alive and well. Likewise, she kept close track of Shikamaru’s energy, making sure he was still going.

If he died, she didn’t know what would come of her. Would she be sold off? Murdered? She knew of the unspoken bounty on her head amongst the criminals, and that struck fear in her heart. All she could do was pray for Shikamaru’s survival.

After what seemed like hours but in reality only about 10 minutes, the screams and shouts finally came to a halt. The chakra signatures of most of the men were completely gone, meaning they had died sometime during the battle. Only some remained, and they were weakened severely, probably passed out or bleeding out.

Shikamaru’s alarmed her. It was weak, almost as weak as the rest. She crawled out from under the tree and started back in the direction of the campsite, keeping her head low nearly in a crouch to stay unseen. There was no telling what was happening over there or who was still out here.

When she got to the campsite though, her eyes widened and she nearly screamed. While the rest of the men collapsed on the ground in bloody heaps, Shikamaru lay in the middle of them, bleeding out from a ginormous wound protruding from his side. She fell onto her knees beside his barely breathing form and held her hands over the wound, trying her best to run her chakra through her, but she was weak. Only a faint light emanating from her hands, not enough to come close to saving him.

“Shikamaru? Shikamaru, can you hear me? Please, try to stay awake, okay?” the girl pleaded, resting one of her soft hands on his cheek. He sighed into her touch. It was just as he imagined. Warm and gentle, like the caress of a feather. At least, if he were to die, it would be in the arms of an angel, he decided.

“You need to head back to the Leaf. Tell Kakashi what happened,” he sputtered out, blood leaving his lips and dripping down the sides of his face. “I lived a good life.”

“No, no, no. You are not dying on me. Not happening,” she whispered. She continued to pour her chakra into his wound, not that it was doing anything serious. Tears filled her eyes and she bit her lip, trying to keep them from falling, but she couldn’t help it. All these tears plagued her life. Memories that made her cry. All the pressure. All the death. Poor Shikamaru lying here dying after saving her life. “I’m going to save you,” she muttered firmly.

Pressure built up in her chest and she pushed further and further, digging deeper into her chakra reserve. It actually hurt the amount of effort she was putting in. It was exhausting, and after about a minute, she was gasping for breath. “Stop. It’s okay, princess.”

“Dammit, Shikamaru, I told you not to call me princess, “ Y/N shouted, and in that moment, she felt something shift inside her. A well of energy she never knew she had opened up and she felt it being filled not by her own chakra but by the men around her. Her body absorbed every last bit of chakra in their bodies, filling hers completely. When Shikamaru looked up at her, he noticed a slight glow coming from her skin that wasn’t there before.

It seemed she awoke her kekkei genkai.

With all the newfound energy she had, she channelled it into saving Shikamaru. Right in front of her eyes, his wound began to close and blood sunk back into his body. He groaned at the feeling, shifting uncomfortably on the ground. Finally, she had done something great.

And as she watched the last bit of his wound shut and the blood to seep back into his body, she found herself grow lightheaded.

As she was passing out, she heard him calling her name, and the only thing she could do was smile. She did it. She saved him. Her vision went black and sleep overtook her swiftly.

________

After Y/N saved Shikamaru and awoke her kekkei genkai, the boy gathered up both of their belongings, hoisted them over his shoulder, and then carried her in his arms to the next village. She wasn’t waking up anytime soon, he found that was probably a bad side effect of using the ability. It completely drained her. He just knew he had to move before any of those guys woke back up. He was not ready to fight again.

He enjoyed feeling her in his arms, pressed tightly to his chest with her head lolling side to side. Y/N was sweet and cute, with her little, “don’t call me princess” proclamation before saving him. It seemed she was just as much a princess as everyone thought she was, and a powerful one at that. She basically brought him back from the dead, and he would be grateful for his entire life for what she’d done for him.

The two of them rested for the night in a village inn just a couple miles away before waking up the next morning and setting off with a new bounce in her step toward your homeland where she was sure she could save the village elder now. He watched as the girl walked eagerly in front of him, swinging her robes by her sides and letting her hair loose instead of a tight braid.

This side of her, it was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. Maybe, he found himself harboring just a tiny crush on the girl who saved his life, the girl who took his breath away when they first met. Maybe he liked her a lot. It was pointless to have such feelings for a girl he would probably never meet again after dropping her off in her homeland.

But he could enjoy his time now, with the girl of his dreams at his side.

He found himself wanting more time with her. Much more time. He knew they only had about a week before they arrived in the Land of Frost, and it was depressing him. He wanted her to come back to the village with him and live there, just so he could see her face everyday and hear that sing-song voice run off her tongue.

Was that so much to ask for? Well, yes, but he still wanted it…

They found themselves stopped for the night or two in a village on the coast. She was tired from all the walking and sleeping in the grass. She was willing to spend a few dollars to have a nice bed to sleep in for the night. She booked a room at one of the inns in town and collapsed into the mattress in the room, throwing her robes to the side and cuddling into the comforter. It had been so long since she was living in such comfortable conditions.

He took a seat beside her and pulled out a book, flipping to the most recent page and diving in. He was more than happy to finally rest. He was lazier than she was, after all. They had been walking for almost a month now, he was tired of it. The only thing that kept him going was seeing her smile every now and then, especially the ones directed at him, or in response to something he said.

Something about those smiles just made him feel good inside. It was sickening. These mushy, gushy feelings he was having. He was beginning to think he might be falling for the girl, like, falling in love. He was disturbed. Was he really that weak to a pretty face, soft hands, and a warm heart?

“Shikamaru?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be home in a week, and you’ll have to go back to the Leaf Village,” she said. He nodded. At that point, they would go their separate ways and it would all be over, this friendship they had. He’d never felt so torn about a mission until now.

He replied casually, “Yeah. Time flies, huh?”

She held her breath for a moment, thinking over her next words very carefully. She’d actually been pondering when she was gonna tell him over the last few days, thinking over every way the scenario could play out. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to leave you, Shikamaru,” she confessed, finally letting go of the breath she was holding.

He raised a brow, setting down his book and turning to face her. “What do you mean?”

“Well...it’s just that your Hokage seems to really like me, and I don’t really have a home anymore with my clan gone,” she mumbled, twiddling her fingers in her lap. “I was thinking maybe after I heal the elders and the village that I could go home with you instead. Live in the leaf village.”

He just looked at her. Had all his longing been for nothing? Could she really mean it? Coming home with him? Could his future really involve seeing her every day, introducing her to his best friends, and healing his people when they were injured?

“I mean, if you don’t think it’s a good idea, though, I totally get it-”

“No! I-I love that idea, actually.”

“Really?”

“Would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

He watched as her lips curled into a bright smile and she clasped her hands together. “Shikamaru, I’m so happy. You and the other Leaf nin are the only people to show me any kindness in a long time. I get to go home to people that will care about me.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty good at that back in the Leaf. Caring, that is.”

She fell back against the bed and sighed, curling up in the sheets once again. He watched as she smiled into the covers and closed her eyes, relishing in this feeling of newfound freedom and happiness, of the hope she found in him and the village. Despite finding women troublesome most of the time, he was willing to go through trouble for her. He felt like he’d do just about anything for this girl.

So unlike him. Tch. Get a grip, Shika.

Her next words had him melting like putty in her hands though. He just couldn’t help it.

"I'm glad you were assigned this mission with me. You helped me awaken my abilities, and I think it was fate that brought us together for that to happen," she sighed. "This meeting, you and I, it was always meant to be. I'm sure of it now."

"Maybe you're right. I wouldn't know," he replied.

It was quiet for a while, just her lost in her own dreams, her own thoughts. Her eyes trailed over to him, and she just knew she was swoon. With his lazy grin and his thoughtful gaze. It was so obvious to her now.

She confessed, “I think I like you. As more than just a friend, Shikamaru. I know I probably shouldn’t be telling you this considering I still need you to escort me to the village and all, and you might not want me to go back to the Leaf with you now, but I just-”

He couldn’t wait anymore. He was going crazy. Finally, he kissed her.

She felt his hands resting on either side of her head and his lips pressed carefully to hers, testing the waters. She brought her own hands up to cup his own, bringing him closer and deeper into the kiss. She smiled and sighed, enjoying the feeling of pure bliss. It had been so long since she felt something so good. Something so sweet.

“You like me too?”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

And he kissed her again. And again. And maybe a couple more times after that.

[thegreatestofheck]

dark of the night [A. Hotchner]

word count – 25,555 (its so long im so sorry) warnings - a lot, blood, torture, mentions (but no descriptions) of sexual assault/rape, murder, canon violence stuff, this is essentially a hurt/comfort fic so expect a lot of hurt to come before the comfort, also a slow burn. synopsis - an agent gets taken in the middle of an investigation. in a race against time, the team at the bau must find her by diving into her deepest secrets. when a video tape arrives with horrible images of the state of their friends, aaron hotchner realizes just how terrified he is of losing her.  tagging: @magicalbluepanther (i hope you don’t mind the tag lol) a/n – did anyone order an extra long aaron hotchner slow burn? Because here you’ve got one. so my mental health is declining again and that means I have to write a criminal minds one shot that involves a lot of hurt/comfort. also I gave y/n a name because i don’t really like y/l/n or anything, but you’re more than welcome to replace it with your own! please dont be mad at me. anyway, stay happy, healthy, safe, and groovy!

The moment Agent Hotchner realized that she wasn’t coming back, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. It had happened once before, this feeling, the day he was in his car and he got that call from Foyet and heard Hayley’s muffled sobbing over the phone. Panic settled into his bones, unable to shake it away even as the terrified eyes of the rest of the team looked his way. 

“Did we just lose her?” Emily Prentiss asked, her words wavering ever so slightly as she tried to keep herself calm. 

At the sound of her voice, Hotch finally found himself able to look around the room. 

Morgan had shifted his eyes back to the door that his friend was supposed to come through. Reid stared at Hotch, wide eyed, lips parted. JJ was chewing on her thumb nail, waiting for Hotch to do something, say something. Emily was looking between the door and Hotch. Rossi was standing behind him, so he couldn’t see the look on his face, but Hotch couldn’t imagine he looked any different than the rest of his team. 

Agent Evelyn Caro had walked into the meeting, undercover, in hopes of baiting a serial killer into a quick and easy arrest. After three years of horrific killings, the BAU team was so close to catching him and Agent Caro was more than willing to be the one to take him down. 

Hotch knew this particular case was a sore spot for Caro, as all torture/murder cases were. But during this entire case, she had been far more on edge and far more eager to tear their suspect to shreds. He shouldn’t have let her go to the meeting, he knew it was too personal for her, even if she had never told him why. 

She had refused to take in a ear piece, said that the stories that would be told at the meeting were personal and their privacy was to be respected. Hotch trusted her. He agreed. They all stood outside and waited. The meeting should have been only two hours, Caro promised that she would be back with the suspect in less than three hours. 

But it had now been three hours and almost thirty minutes. The door hadn’t opened a single time since the last of the members of the meeting left, all except Caro and the suspect. 

She fit his physical appearance preference and possessed the confidence he appeared to have deep hatred for. It should have been an easy job. 

“What went wrong?” Hotch murmured out loud, more to himself. 

His words seemed to trigger something in Morgan, who pushed open the van door and unholestered his weapon before anybody could stop him. 

“Morgan!” Rossi yelled after him, but there was no slowing down, and once Morgan was running toward the meeting building, Emily and Reid were on his tail. 

“Hotch, what do we do?” JJ asked, turning toward him as Rossi hopped out of the car to go after his peers. 

Hotch ran through every single protocol that he knew like the back of his hand. They flitted through his brain like smoke, a flurry of useless words and numbers that meant nothing to him. Not a single one told him how to deal with this. Tightness squeezed at his chest as the rules and regulations he clung so tightly to began to fail him once again. 

“We find her.” 

Gun drawn, Hotch entered the building with JJ on his tail. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his composure about him. The same couldn’t be said for some of the others. 

“Evie!” Morgan called out, kicking down a door. 

“Evelyn?” Rossi’s voice echoed through elementary school. 

Hotch was seconds away from calling out her name himself, but he kept his jaw clenched tight. JJ followed every move he made. If he lost himself now, so would JJ. He needed at least one person on his side whose head was still level. 

They scoured the entire grounds, but they could find nothing. The room where the meeting had taken place was empty. Not even the leader was there anymore. This dark room was where the team met up after searching every inch of the grounds. 

There was silence for an eternity as they passed glances between each other, wordlessly asking if anyone had found anything. 

“There’s not even a footprint,” Morgan said helplessly, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. 

“I didn’t hear her scream.” JJ’s voice was weak and her eyes downcast. 

“None of us did,” Rossi replied. 

“We have to find her quickly,” Hotch said, finally trusting himself enough to speak. “He only keeps his victims for five days and if he knows she’s FBI, it’s probably less than that.” 

“I’ll call Garcia, track Evie’s phone,” Morgan said, pulling out his phone and turning away from the group. 

“We start from the ground up,” Hotch instructed. “Right now, Agent Caro isn’t our coworker but a victim and we have to treat her as such if we want to find her. Dig into her life, figure out what connects her to the other victims. Did he take her because she’s FBI or because she’s connected to the others. Morgan?”

“Her phone’s off,” Morgan said, pulling the phone away from his ear. 

“Tell Garcia to look for a connection between all of the victims. Dig and dig deep. Hold nothing back.”

Morgan paused for a moment. They all remembered when they had to do this very thing to him, when he was a suspect all those years ago. He knew what it was like to have his friends digging into a personal life he long wanted buried, how they looked at him differently after they knew, even if they didn’t mean to. He didn’t understand then, that they were trying to help, but he did now. There was no time to hesitate. This was Evelyn they were talking about. 

“Garcia, give me everything on Evelyn Caro that you can find. Dig deep. She needs us,” Morgan said. 

“Got it.” 

“Call me when you get anything.” 

“Yup.” 

She ended the call and Morgan turned back to the team. 

“Garcia’s on it.” 

“Okay, then we need to get back to the station and look at everything again. We have a name. We know it’s him. We just need to find them.” Hotch turned away from the team and started for the exit. “No one goes home until we find her.” 

___

Hotch meant what he said, but no one needed to be told twice. Red rimmed eyes scanned the same files over and over and over again as they waited for any amount of information from Garcia. 

“There has to be something here,” Morgan said with a frustrated sigh. “Something we’re missing.” 

“Why did he take her?” JJ asked as she set down her file. The woman rubbed her eyes before crossing her arms and looking up at the rest of the room. “I mean, what changed in that room that made him want her?”

“He found out she was FBI?” Reid suggested, leaning back in his chair. 

“How though?” Rossi piped in from his position leaning up against the wall. “Caro isn’t dumb enough to reveal herself, we were careful.” 

“She must have said something in that meeting that convinced him that she was a good target,” Hotch said. He could feel all eyes on him as he watched the ground, unable to meet any of their gazes. “Maybe this is how he finds his victims. At these group meetings.” 

“So we sent Evie into a death trap.” Morgan shoved his chair away from the table and stood, hands on his hips as he breathed heavily. 

“We have to figure out what connects her to the other victims,” Emily said. “Just like any other case.” 

“But this isn’t any other case is it?” 

“Morgan-” 

“This is Evelyn we’re talking about!” 

“Morgan, I need you to calm down,” Hotch said, standing from his place. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Hotch.” Morgan trembled with rage, his eyes glazed over with water. “You can’t expect me to sit here and-” 

“I expect you to do your job, Agent Morgan, seeing as that is the only thing that will get Caro back home.” Hotch struggled to keep his voice low. He curled his fists so the others couldn’t see how badly his hands were shaking. 

“You think we’ll get her back?” 

“If you do your job.” 

Morgan breathed in deeply and nodded his head. Before he sat back down, Morgan put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. The kid had his hand covering his mouth, his eyes glazed over like Morgan’s had been. 

Hotch knew how close Morgan and Caro were. Ever since she signed on to the team, the two had been nearly inseparable. Hotch wondered if it was something he needed to discuss with them. Every time that he seriously considered it, he had to question his motivations. Was it to keep complications out of their team or was it something else, something he wasn’t ready to admit? 

Turning his eyes away from Reid and Morgan, Hotch opened his mouth to address the team when Garcia stepped into the open doorway. They all turned to look at her only to see that her cheeks were streaked with tears as she clutched a file in her hands. 

“Garcia, what is it?” Emily stood and walked toward her, a hand out open for her. 

“You...you told me to dig deep so I did,” she stammered. “I...I did and I found...oh, God.” 

“Come in,” Hotch said, trying to smooth the furrow in his brows. 

Garcia took Emily’s hand and shuffled into the briefing room, sniffling through her tears. 

“Our poor baby girl,” Garcia said, setting the file gently onto the round table as if it was fragile. “She never told us-” 

“Garcia.” 

Garcia cleared her throat and nodded her head, flipping the file open. The team crowded around the table. Staring up at them was a picture of a young girl, her face purpled and bloody. Morgan clenched his jaw, Reid turned his face away from the picture. 

“Is that Caro?” JJ asked, her hand hovering over her mouth. 

Hotch had seen this picture before, attached to the file so covered in black redacted lines that he barely gleaned anything from it. But there were no more black lines. Everything about Agent Caro was there for him to read. Her life was an open book for him. This was his job, the only way to get her back, so why did he feel so dirty doing it? 

“When Evie-”

“Evelyn,” Hotch corrected. “She can’t be our friend right now.”

Garcia nodded, her eyes still glassy. 

“When Evelyn Caro was 12 years old, she was kidnapped from her front lawn. She was held captive by her...by her uncle for four years. He did...he did horrible things to her...I’m sorry-” 

Garcia choked, turning away from the file. Morgan put his hand on Garcia’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“She was held by her uncle,” Hotch continued, eyes scanning the page, when it was clear that Garcia wouldn’t be able to. “There were clear signs of r-pe and physical violence, even though she never spoke about it afterward.” 

“She was held captive by her uncle?” Morgan asked. “How did no one know it was him?”

“Police talked to everyone in the family,” Garcia said, turning back into the conversation. “He was never on their serious list of suspects.” 

“How did she get out?” Rossi asked from his place near the back of the crowd.

“She broke out,” Garcia said, her voice like iron even as her lower lip trembled. “She stabbed that son of a bitch the moment she got the chance and she ran until someone found her.” 

“She killed him?” JJ asked. 

Hotch let out a heavy sigh. Something like pride blossomed in his chest. Maybe it was vindication. He would have killed the bastard himself. 

“Why wouldn’t she tell us?” Reid asked, looking up at Hotch like a lost dog. 

“We all have secrets we’ve kept from each other,” Hotch told him, even though he was wondering the same thing. “Now we need to figure out if this is somehow related to why he took her.” 

There was a moment of silence hanging over the room. 

“Garcia, look into the lives of the other women again,” he continued. “See if there is any kind of connection.” 

“I’m on it.”

There was a new kind of determination in her voice, like a fire was lit underneath her.

“Videos of the other victims were sent to the families of the victims,” Hotch said, looking back at the rest of the team. “JJ, contact her brother, see if he’s received anything and tell him to contact us as soon as he is.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about the rest of us?” 

Once again, all eyes were on Hotch, expecting him to have all of the answers. But he didn’t. He didn’t know anything. 

“Do your jobs.”

___

When the video was sent to her family, it wasn’t her estranged brother who received it. 

“Hotch.” Morgan’s voice was shaking as he picked up the yellow envelope on his desk. “Hotch!” 

As soon as Hotch saw the package he knew what had to be in it. He had seen four of them before all from the previous victims’ families. His heart constricted in his chest. He knew what they were about to watch. Their team member, their friend. 

Grinding his teeth together to keep his face straight, Hotch took the package from Morgan and started back for the briefing room. 

“Do you want me to round up the team?” Morgan asked. 

“You guys shouldn’t have to watch this,” Hotch told him. 

“You’re not watching it alone.” 

Without another word, Morgan went to collect the others. 

Once they were all in the briefing room, Garcia put the recording onto the big screen. 

“You don’t-” 

“We’re staying,” JJ said, her fingers laced with Emily’s. 

Hotch nodded once before looking over at Garcia and signaling her to start the video. 

As soon as Garcia hit the play button, Morgan put an arm around her shoulder and she put a hand up to her mouth. Hotch leaned against a chair, his knuckles going white. 

The screen was black for a few moments. When it turned on, Agent Evelyn Caro was sitting half naked on a cot. Bruises littered her body, her ribs on the left side blackened. A cut ran across a purple cheek with dried blood running down her face. One of her eyes was black. But Caro stared straight ahead of her, eyes made of steal. 

“Oh, baby,” Garcia breathed. 

The room was small, bland. It looked cold. 

A man stepped into the frame. Caro didn’t even look at him, she just kept staring straight ahead. Before he even said anything, he raised a hand and slapped her across the face. Reid flinched, but none of them turned away. Their attention needed to be on this video, gleaning as much information as they could to get her home. Hotch refused to let her suffering go to waste. He would watch every second of it, no matter how much his stomach burned with hatred. 

Caro barely reacted to the backhand, her head snapping to the side, but the rest of her body stayed in the same place, her hands clasped together in her lap. When she straightened her head, blood trickled down from her lip. She lifted a hand to wipe the blood away before looking up at the man. Her eyes carried the heat of a thousand suns as she looked at her assailant, almost as if daring him to touch her again. That was the Caro that Hotch knew. She would never back down, never give in. 

“What do you want?” She asked. 

Hearing her voice so raw sent a chill down Hotch’s spine. Everything about this was wrong. 

“I know what happened to you when you were young,” the man said, walking in front of her. 

Caro clenched her jaw and turned her face forward once again, seeming to pretend that he wasn’t there. 

“Does this feel familiar to you?” the man asked, spinning in a circle. “The room, the bed, the chain.” 

Hotch’s eyes shifted away from Caro and he looked more at the bed. There was indeed a chain attached to the metal of the bed frame. Caro’s jaw tightened again and Hotch watched as she ran a finger over a scar he had seen on her wrist a million times before but never asked her about. He could only imagine a young Agent Caro, chained to a bed. She carried that scar around with her and he had never even cared enough to ask her about it. 

“It’s exactly the same,” Caro said.

The man sat next to her and still Caro didn’t flinch. Not even her breathing changed. Amidst his anger and his fear, Hotch felt pride. Damn right she would not even acknowledge him. Hotch expected nothing less from her. Though he wouldn’t fault her if she did. 

The Unsub put his hand on her knee and Hotch’s eyes went red. His ears rang, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He watched Caro look down at the Unsub’s hand and Hotch noticed a slight tremble in her body. Her shaking was rage, not fear. He knew her well enough to know that. 

“What do you want?” The tremor reached her voice. Hotch could see her holding back from killing the unsub then and there. Her restraint told him that her captor was the only way out of her room. If she killed him now, she would be trapped. 

The unsub sighed and tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on the ground. 

“I want to break you,” he said.

Hotch clenched his jaw, but still Caro’s face stayed straight. She didn’t even blink. The words ‘I dare you to try’ never even passed her lips, but it was a clear challenge in her eyes. 

The image cut and Hotch almost thought that was going to be the end. But then it suddenly clicked on. Caro was slowly sitting up from laying on the bed. The unsub was halfway in the frame, buckling his belt. Hotch heard a quiet ‘oh’ come from Garcia and when he glanced over at her, he noticed tears in Morgan’s eyes. 

Caro seemed stiff as she sat up. The chain that had before been only attached to the bed was now shackled to her wrist. Hotch watched her grimace as she moved her feet to the ground. Her toes curled, telling Hotch that the ground was cold. The entire room must have been freezing. 

A silence hung over the team as they waited for something to happen. 

“You’re tough, I’ll give you that,” the unsub said. Caro refused to look at him. “The other girls gave in at this point.” 

“And then you killed them.” Caro looked over at him, moving slowly and clearly despite the pain that was obvious settling into her bones. 

The unsub shrugged his shoulders, a proud smile on his face. 

“Some girls seem to think that death is better than what I did to them,” he said. “But maybe you kind of like it.” 

Caro pulled harshly against her chain, shutting her eyes and turning her face away from him. 

“Son of a bitch,” Rossi breathed. Hotch refrained from looking back at him. 

“How does she not strangle him?” JJ asked. Her words were tight from the swelling in her throat. 

“He’s her only way out of that room,” Hotch told her. “She kills him and she starves in there.” 

“Not if we find her.” 

They fell quiet again, just soon enough to hear a low rumble of a laugh from the man. 

“I see I struck a nerve.” The unsub said. 

Caro steadied her breathing and straightened her shoulders. 

“I’m not surprised you’ve lasted longer than the other girls, being an FBI agent and all. I wonder how your friends are doing.” 

Caro pulled against the chain again, her eyes squeezing tighter. 

“Ah, another nerve. Should we poke at that one a bit more?” 

The unsub stepped out of the frame. For the briefest moment, with his back turned on her, Caro’s eyes flicked toward the camera. 

“She knows it’s there,” Reid said. “She knows about the camera.” 

Caro sucked in a deep breath and gave a short nod of her head. She knew her taker’s MO. She knew about the videos and the envelope. She knew they were watching her, and she was telling them that she was okay. 

When the unsub walked back into frame, he was holding something in his hands. With his back to the camera, they couldn’t get a good look at what he was holding.

“I am aware that your brother is the only remaining relative of yours who will speak to you, is that correct?” The unsub said.

Caro breathed deeply in once, her eyes staring straight through the unsub.

“This is him and his wife, their two daughters. Beautiful family. When was the last time you spoke to them?”

Agent Caro’s eyes moved from the unsub to the object in his hand and her eyes immediately welled up with tears. The unsub clicked his tongue.

“It’s the shame, isn’t it? It eats you up inside. You can’t bear the thought of tainting your brother and his perfect family with your past.”

She closed her eyes and turned her face away.

“This is Penelope Garcia, yes?”

Garcia straightened her back, surprised at hearing her name.

Caro opened her eyes and Hotch noticed a drastic shift in her breathing. Once steady and calm, her chest now rose and fell at an uneven pace. Her eyes darted between whatever the unsub was holding and his face.

“Jennifer Jareau?”

The unsub tossed something onto the bed next to Caro. And then another.

“David Rossi?”

For the first time, Caro flinched as he flicked what Hotch was starting to realize was a picture in her direction.

“Emily Prentiss. Spencer Reid.”

Two more pictures were thrown at her and Caro flinched twice more.

“Derek Morgan.”

A fire lit in Caro’s eyes as she stared up at him again.

“Aaron Hotchner.”

Before he could even throw the picture her way, Caro jumped up from the bed and charged at him, pulling on the chair.

“If you touch them, I swear I’ll kill you,” she seethed.

The unsub shoved her backward onto the bed, but she scrambled up again. He hit her across the face, sending her back with a yelp. Breathing heavily, she turned to look at him, like a rabid dog.

“That’s a hard promise to make seeing as you are chained to a bed and I am not.”

“She has to know that he can’t hurt us,” Emily said, looking to Hotch for answers.

“She’s panicking,” Hotch replied. His knuckles tightened over the chairs.

“You think I won’t go after them?” the unsub said as he dropped a hand onto her shoulder.

Caro turned her face away from him and shook her head.

“You can’t,” she said. Her voice was growing weak, shaking more. “They’re FBI, you can’t just-“

She didn’t get the chance to finish before the unsub threw a fist across her face.

“I won’t even have to hurt them though, will I?” The unsub sneered, bending down close to her face. “I bet by now they know every dark secret about your past. Every skeleton in your closet. They know about the blood on your hands.”

Hotch had read her file that Garcia dug up a thousand times over in the last few days since she found it. Something in him told him he had to, though another part of him wanted to wait until Caro was there to tell him herself. But she deserved better than for her story to go unknown. She deserved to have someone know.

“No,” Caro whimpered.

“You really think they’ll accept you after that?” The unsub let out a laugh.

“Evie, we love you,” Garcia said as she took a step forward. “Evie-“

“Garcia, quiet,” Hotch said, putting out a hand.

“Sir, she has to know, she has to know.”

Morgan put his arm back around Garcia and pulled her in for a hug.

“She knows,” he whispered to her.

“You lost your family once because of what you did to your uncle,” the unsub said. “Now you’ll lose another.”

“No!”

Caro threw herself at the unsub once again, her fists flying. Hotch had seen her fight before. She was well trained, and she was calculated, confident. But this was animalistic. This was pure instinct. Her punches were weak and light, hitting the places of the unsub where very little damage would be done. The chain prevented any real effort from her, though the bed shook and rattled as she yanked against the metal. It didn’t take him long to wrestle her onto the bed, pinning her down by her arms.

Her face was clearly displayed to the camera. She breathed sporadically, panting and gasping for air. Sweat beaded down her battered face. Her eyes were wide and flitting back and forth, terrified.

“How would you feel if I paid one of them a visit, huh?” The unsub asked, his nose brushing against her cheek.

Caro struggled, a growl of frustration strangled in her sore throat.

“That Spencer Reid lives alone, doesn’t he?”

Rossi put a hand on Reid’s shoulder, who had suddenly gone pale.

“Don’t touch him!” She thrashed again, trying to throw the unsub off of her. She tried to kick her feet, but they were effectively pinned under her by the weight of the unsub. She grunted and groaned in the effort it took to try and get him off of her.

“I doubt it would take much to strangle that skinny neck of his.”

Caro suddenly stopped struggled. The sweat that pooled down her cheeks suddenly started to look more like tears as her body went still.

“Please don’t hurt them,” she said, her voice quiet.

“What, you don’t want me creeping into Emily’s apartment tonight, pay her a little visit?”

Caro let out a quiet sound, something that was almost like a sob.

“Please.”

“What will you do for me in return?” He asked, pressing still closer to her face.

Caro rolled her head back and forth on the bed and Hotch could see the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

She just nodded her head, lower lip quavering.

“Don’t give up, baby girl,” Morgan whispered. Garcia clung tighter to his hand.

“Well, well,” the unsub said with a sigh as he sat up, releasing Caro from his hold. Her body sagged even further into the cot. He stepped away from the cot and bent down to pick up some of the pictures that fell to the floor. “There isn’t really anything I want from you just now, so I might go and visit one of your friends just to keep you on your toes.”

“No!” Caro leapt from the bed and attached herself to the unsub’s back.

He threw her against back against the cot. Hotch could see him lift his hand to deliver hit after hit to his agent, but he was grateful that the unsub’s back blocked the view of the camera. He didn’t think he could stand to watch her get beaten.

Caro was surprisingly silent as the unsub hit her.

It was over relatively quickly. The unsub straightened himself out, squaring his shoulders. Without a word, he turned to the camera and walked toward it. Caro let out a quiet groan just before the unsub picked up the camera and shut it off.

There was a heavy silence that fell over the team.

“What the hell did we just watch?” Emily asked, setting her eyes on Hotch.

They were once again expecting him to have all the answers, but he had nothing to say. His hands were cramping from how hard he was clenching onto the chair. It took all the strength in him not to throw it across the room. Caro should be here with them, not in that room, not with that man.

“Garcia, can you play the end again and turn up the volume?” Rossi asked.

“No offense, sir,” Garcia said, teary eyed. “But I can’t watch that again.”

“Just the very end, as he’s walking toward the camera. Agent Caro said something.”

“Did she?” JJ asked, crossing her arms.

Garcia pressed a few buttons on her laptop and the video returned. Hotch was almost tempted to look away. The audio was louder as the unsub heaved out an exhausted sigh and started walking toward the camera. And then they heard it, the quiet groan. But it wasn’t a groan at all. She had said something, just a quiet name.

His name.

Aaron.

___

Sitting at his desk, Hotch couldn’t seem to lift his heavy head from his hands. The window, which was almost always closed, was wide open. His office was too stuffy, too hot. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t get the sound of his name from her lips out of his head.

A knock came to his door and he finally lifted his head. Rossi was standing there with his usual “something is wrong and I’m going to fix it” face. Hotch wasn’t sure if he was in the mood for this conversation.

“What can I do for you, David?”

“We have to talk about what just happened,” Rossi said.

“I don’t really think-“

“Aaron, listen to me,” Rossi said, walking into the room. “Evelyn needs you right now.”

“There’s nothing I can do that the team isn’t already doing.”

“She said your name.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that?” Hotch’s tone was a little sharper than he meant it to be. He let out a sigh and stretched out his fingers.

Rossi sat down across from him.

“Why? We all know that she’s closest with Morgan, so why say your name?” Rossi asked. Hotch squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. The exhaustion headache that was plaguing him wasn’t helping the fact that thinking about who Caro was and wasn’t closest with lit a fire in his gut. “And why your first name? She only ever called you Hotch, like the rest of us.”

“That’s not true,” Hotch said, memorizing the lines on his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at Rossi.

“What isn’t?”

“She’s called me Aaron.”

“When?”

“When she was angry with me,” Hotch said. The thought of it pained him. He could hear her sharp tone, the way she hissed his name like venom. When she thought he was too cold, too apathetic.

“Or….”

“Or what?”

There was another time when she called him Aaron. Three other times.

On the worst day of his life, when he held Hayley’s body in his arms, Caro had sat next to him on the floor. People were calling his name. “Hotch, Hotch, Hotchner.”

She sat there on the ground and whispered his name just once, “Aaron.” It was quiet, like a pin dropping during a storm. But still he heard her.

“Aaron, your son,” she said.

That decision, to stay with Hayley or go find Jack, tore his soul into pieces until she spoke again.

“I’ll stay with her.”

The second time was a few weeks after Hayley’s death. Hotch wasn’t handling it well, or at all. She saw right through the façade that he had put forward. He was at the office late one night and so was she. Even when he tried to send her home, she politely refused, saying there was a lot of work she needed to get done.

He spent hours in his office, the grief and the sorrow and the shame building and building and building until he was suddenly standing over his desk. Everything here reminded him of Hayley. The baseball, the picture of Jack, even the piles of papers that were stacked high, shaming him for not being there for her more.

The only way to keep himself from crying was to let the anger take over. Anger at Foyet, anger at the job, anger at the world, anger at himself. Forgetting where he was, Hotch had dumped everything off of his desk with one sweep of his arm.

Collapsing to the ground, Hotch didn’t remember how long he sat there, leaning against his desk, hyperventilating, until Caro walked in. She didn’t say anything to him. She just lowered herself to the ground next to him, letting out a long sigh. She just sat there, breathing louder than Hotch was used to her breathing, but he found after a few minutes that his breathing began to match hers. A calmness returned to his body, at least enough to breathe normally.

“Aaron?”

He turned to look at her, the edges of his eyes lined with red.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Hotch nodded his head. He pushed himself to his feet before helping Caro to hers.

“I’ll drive,” she said, stepping around all of the things on the ground.

“What about-“

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” Caro had said. “Come on.”

She talked to him all the way back to the car. She asked if he wanted to talk about what made him dump all of his stuff on the ground. When he said no, she asked him about Jack instead. It felt comfortable to talk to her about his son, even though he tried to keep personal life and business separated. He had never really talked to her about anything other than work, except for the times when the team would go out to eat, back when Hayley would come with them. She would talk about her brother, his family, but very vaguely.

Now he supposed he knew why she was always so vague.

The third time she called him Aaron, they were on a case. Young girls being kidnapped, assaulted, and dumped. This was one of many cases just like it. Hotch couldn’t even remember what town they were in now. All he remembered was walking by Caro’s hotel room and feeling like he needed to go inside. Something pulled him to a stop outside her door that night and he couldn’t ignore it.

He knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a respond before he opened in.

Caro was still up, even though they had left hours ago. She had skipped the meal they all shared together, which was unlike her. She sat at her desk, the lamp on but not the overhead light. The case that they were working was laid out in front of her. When she looked up at him, startled that he had come in, her eyes were red and he couldn’t tell if it was all of the reading or if it was something else.

“What can I do for you, Hotch?” Caro asked, one of her legs propped up on the swivel chair.

“I….” He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. “….wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.”

Caro’s lips pulled into an amused smile.

“You never check on me.”

“Maybe now’s the time to start.”

They were quiet for a few moments until Caro let out a sigh. She patted the bed, signaling for him to sit.

“These cases, the ones with the young girls, they’re hard,” Caro told him after he sat down.

Hotch felt like a foreigner sitting there and talking to her, awkward as he sat on her bed, like it shouldn’t be him here doing this. But she seemed so eager to talk, like she was just waiting for someone to ask.

“I understand,” Hotch said finally, looking at the carpet. “They’re hard on all of us.”

“Aaron.”

At the sound of his name, he looked back at her and he could see the tears in her eyes. He didn’t realize it then, but she had been begging him to understand so she didn’t have to say. She didn’t want to have to say it.

He couldn’t sleep that night and he didn’t know why.

“She called you Aaron when she was mad at you or….” Rossi’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“Or she needs me to listen.”

“So, what does she need you to hear?”

___

“He knows her,” Hotch said suddenly, startling the life out of the half sleeping agents.

“What?” Morgan asked, sitting up.

“The unsub knows her. There is no way that he learned all of this about her at the meeting they went to. No way he could have replicated the room that she was kept in when she was a child unless he had personal information.”

“He knew everything about her…and us…before he even took her,” Rossi said, his voice laced with awe. “Which means….”

“All those other murders were about getting her here.” Hotch felt his heart restrict in his chest. “This has all been about her. She was the piece we were missing.”

“Sir?” Garcia hurried into the room, meaning she had found something. “The link between all the victims, I think I found it.”

The team turned toward her.

“Evie is the link.” Garcia swiped up on her laptop, a couple different screens popping up on the big screen. “Sarah Jordans went to kindergarten with Evie. Paulette Bobin was the daughter of the police officer who found Evie after she escaped her uncle. Robin Everard was her high school drama teacher’s niece. Celia Hough was the sister of a woman she walked dogs for in middle school. They weren’t close enough to Evie for her to recognize them, but they were all a part of her life in some way.”

Hotch looked over at Rossi and shook his head.

“It’s been about Caro all along. All of it.”

“That means that the place she’s being held is about her too,” Morgan said. “More than just making the room look the same. He’s holding her somewhere that means something to her.”

“Garcia,” Hotch said, turning his attention back to the tech analyst. “Who owns the uncle’s house now?”

“You think he took her back there?”

“She said the room looked exactly the same. Maybe because it was the same.”

“The house passed onto his wife’s son when he died,” Garcia said.

“Where is the son now?”

“He is….” They all watched her carefully, waiting for the last piece of information. “…. He changed his name just after his father’s funeral to….”

Hotch turned back to the screen, where the picture of the unsub was plastered so none of them would forget it.

“Ralph Bennet,” Morgan said, venom in his words. “The unsub.”

“How did she not recognize her own cousin?”

“His father and mother got divorced when he was young. He didn’t even know he had a step-dad who was still alive until he was dead,” Garcia said.

“So, Ralph Bennet was the step-son of Caro’s uncle. He feels like he has to punish her for taking another father figure away from him,” added Reid.

“He wants her to pay. He wants to hurt her in any way possible.”

“He’s got her at her old house.”

___

Evelyn could barely see. Her eyes were weak and tired, partially from the crying and partially from the lack of sleep. She was terrified of letting her eyes shut, of letting her guard down. She needed to stay awake, to keep her guard up. But she couldn’t take her eyes away from the red stain on the floor.

The cot mattress was itching her skin. If she could ignore the itching, she would begin to feel the sting of the metal chain against her skin. She preferred the itching.

A thud from downstairs echoed to her room. The attic. Pretending like this wasn’t that room she had been kept in for all those years was the only thing that was keeping her from breaking down, but that wall between what she pretended was real and reality was growing thin.

Breathing in through her nose, Evelyn shut her eyes and imagined herself back in her apartment, safe and warm. In her hands was a cup of tea, chamomile with only one sprinkling of sugar. It was raining outside. Not too hard, but hard enough that she could hear it pattering against the window. Her dog slept at her feet, breathing softly. In her lap was-

Another thud from downstairs, tearing Evelyn from her fantasy. She opened her eyes and looked toward the door.

“Ralph?” She called out, voice hoarse. There was no response.

When the door burst open suddenly, Evelyn yelped and jumped backward, curling her legs in on herself.

Ralph stood there, his face red and sweat beading down his forehead.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn asked, curling up tighter.

Ralph let out a growl of frustration and started toward her.

“Ralph- no!” Evelyn kicked out at him, but he grabbed hold of her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “What are you-“

“Shut up,” Ralph snapped, unlacing the chains around her wrist. “We’re leaving.”

“What-“

“I said shut up!”

He tugged down hard on the chain, making it dig deeper into the wound around her wrist. Evelyn hissed in pain, but she quieted as he told her. There was another thud from downstairs and Evelyn snapped her head in the direction of the sound. Things were slowly starting to come together; Ralph’s shaking hands, his red face, the thudding downstairs.

Evelyn looked between Ralph and the door. She sat a still as she could while his trembling hands, waiting for the just right moment. As soon as the chains were loose, Evelyn slipped her wrist out of the chain, kicked Ralph over with as little strength as she had, and ran for the door.

“Aaron!”

Her cry echoed through the house just before Ralph grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He hissed, dragging her back into the room.

“Caro?”

Evelyn gasped through Ralph’s hand at the sound of Hotch’s voice, trying to shout back. She struggled against Ralph as he pulled her back to the bed, thrashing her shoulders to try and break free.

“Agent Caro?”

I’m here, Hotch, I’m here.

Ralph threw the weak Evelyn onto the bed and backhanded her across the face so hard that her head started to spin. She stretched her jaw, blinking away the blackness in her vision.

“Evie!” From somewhere far away, she thought she could hear her best friend, Derek Morgan, calling for her. She opened her mouth to call back, but all she felt was numbness.

By the time she finally felt like she could see again, there was someone else in the doorway. At first glance, she thought it was Ralph, but he was still there in the room with her. The man in the doorway had a gun, the man in the doorway was Aaron Hotchner.

“Ralph Bennet, step away,” Hotch said.

Evelyn watched, head blurry as Ralph did as he was told, backing away from her. But he was going the wrong way. There was something wrong that way. Something she needed to tell Hotch about.

“You came for me,” she said, trying to smile.

“Are you okay, Caro?”

Evelyn could feel the headache behind her eyes begin to fade. She nodded her head once, letting her eyes close. There was something she needed to tell him, something really important.

“There’s something,” she said, shaking her head to try and clear it. “Over there-“

Before Evelyn could even finish, Ralph stepped forward and swung a bat at Hotch, the bat that Evelyn knew was in the corner. The bat that broke her ribs. That was what she needed to tell Hotch about. But now it was too late.

The bat knocked Hotch’s gun out of his hands and onto the ground. Hotch wasted no time in jumping into action, springing at Ralph without a second thought. Evelyn tried to shake herself out of her stoper. She would be no help to anyone weary. Even if malnutrition and the beating she got that morning were the cause of her exhaustion, she wanted to be of more help.

Hotch knocked Ralph backward, but Ralph held tight to the bat in his hands, using it to push Hotch backward. It was hard for Evelyn to follow the fight, her eyes not able of following every hit and swing. When her eyes finally caught up with what was happening, the ringing in her ears starting to fade, Evelyn found that Hotch was on the ground, Ralph standing over him with the baseball bat, ready to bash his head in.

Evelyn pushed herself off of the bed, her legs weak and shaking, and ran toward Ralph.

“Don’t touch him!” She growled, reaching up to grab hold of the bat.

“Let go, bitch!”

It didn’t take much for Ralph to throw Evelyn’s grip off the bat, but only by throwing the bat out of his hands as well. She hit the ground with a thud, the force rattling through her bones. Ralph immediately turned his attention back to Hotch, who was still on the ground but in a less vulnerable state.

On the ground with Evelyn were the bat and the forgotten gun, but they were all the way on the other side of the room. She didn’t know if she could make it there and back before her legs gave out.

She was laying on the ground by the edge of the bed, hearing Hotch and Ralph go at it. There had to be something that she could do. She had to do something. As she pushed herself up, Evelyn’s had grazed over the chain, the chain that had been used to keep her tied to this bed for days. Looking up at Ralph, Evelyn dug into all that bitterness and all the rage that she had been brewing for the past twenty years of her life and found some ounce of strength.

Strength enough to wrap her hands around the chain. Strength enough to pick to chain off the ground. Strength enough to stand.

With Ralph paying attention to Hotch, his back was left exposed to her. He didn’t think she had the strength left. He thought he broke her.

But she was unbreakable.

Wrapping the chain around one of her hands, she walked up behind Ralph and swung the chain around his neck. He let out a startled gasp, lifting a hand, but not before Evelyn grabbed the chain with her open hand and pulled. Ralph stumbled backward into her. He slapped at her hands. He tried to hit her with the back of his head.

But the adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her strong. She pulled tighter, tensing her hands.

Ralph gagged and Evelyn scrunched her nose. He let out a gurgling sound and Evelyn groaned as the muscles in her arms began to cramp from the tightness. But still she did not let go.

Hotch stood, his lip bleeding and his eye beginning to bruise. Ralph and Evelyn stumbled over; he fell to the ground and she landed on the bed, never once letting the chain go slack.

“Agent Caro,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

Evelyn only pulled tighter. Ralph smacked at her hands lamely, choking sounds gurgling from his throat. His legs kicked out, struggling in the same way that she had been. His legs kicked and his body twitched and his arms flailed out and he maybe felt an ounce of the terror that Evelyn had.

“Caro.”

Evelyn’s face twisted she breathed heavily, pulling tighter against the chain until Ralph’s eyes were rolling.

“Evelyn.”

She froze, looking up at him. All the tension in her face faded as her eyes met Hotch’s. She always used his first name when she needed him to listen to her, but now it was her turn to listen to him. Ralph gasped for the air that was slowly entering his lungs.

“You can let him go.”

Evelyn remembered that scared little girl she was all those years ago. There had been no other option then. It was just her, her uncle, and the knife in her hand. It was kill him or live the rest of her life in a prison. She felt like that again. Alone, terrified, trapped, cornered. There was no other way out.

“You’re safe now, Evelyn,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

She wasn’t alone anymore. Hotch was here with her. She wasn’t that terrified little girl with no way out. She was an FBI agent. She had grown and she had learned and she was no longer alone. Her team had come from her. Her family had found her.

She let go of the chain, pulling her legs onto the bed. Ralph heaved in lung fulls of air, but Evelyn kept her eyes on Hotch. He took a step toward them, pulling out his handcuffs. Evelyn flinched away, pulling her legs in tighter.

“These aren’t for you,” Hotch told her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Relaxing her muscles as best as she could, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

She sat there on the bed while Hotch roughly rolled a still coughing Ralph onto his stomach to handcuff him. Once the handcuffs were on, Hotch turned back to Evelyn, who was still staring at him. Her eyes were full of tears.

It was hard for Hotch to say that he didn’t enjoy beating Ralph into the ground. He shouldn’t want to keep beating the shit out of the man now that he was in handcuffs, but seeing those tears in her eyes made Hotch want to. He had been tempted to let Evelyn kill Ralph. She deserved that bit of closure. But he knew the guilt that she already carried, the guilt she would carry on top of that. He knew because he carried that same guilt.

Still, he wanted to see that monster dead. He wanted to wipe those tears from her eyes before they even had a chance to fall.

“Caro-“

“Evie!”

Morgan burst into the room, his eyebrows pinched together in worry. Evelyn tore her gaze away from Hotch at the sound of Morgan’s voice.

“Derek.” The relief in her voice as she said his name made Hotch’s stomach drop.

Morgan rushed toward the bed and dropped to his knees in front of it. He reached forward and pulled the tattered blanket on the bed up and around Evelyn’s shoulders, covering her. Evelyn just stared at him, the tears threatening to fall from her lashes. Morgan brushed hair from out of her face as a smile began to pull at his lips. His smile made her almost able to break a grin too.

When Morgan first put his arms around Evelyn, het body immediately tensed. She expected to be surrounded by Ralph’s smell, feel his clammy skin on hers. But it was Morgan’s smell; that expensive cologne she had bought for his birthday mixed with the laundry detergent he always used. He held her tight. Even when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t able to look down enough to see Ralph, which was probably Morgan’s intention. She would have done the same thing.

The adrenaline had succeeded in keeping her heart rate steady, but now that Morgan was holding her, her heart started to pound.

Hotch grabbed Ralph off the ground and hoisted him to his feet. Evelyn listened as he shoved Ralph down the stairs, Ralph grunting and groaning all the way down.

It wasn’t until they could no longer hear him that Morgan pulled away. She didn’t want to let him go, afraid that she would begin to crumble without him there. Morgan put a hand on her cheek and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s get you home.”

___

The first worst part about walking down those stairs was remembering the last time she had done this. That red stain on the floor had been there for twenty years. Evelyn had left her uncle bleeding out on the floor while she stumbled down the stairs, dazed, terrified. She knew the blood was the same because she had been covered in it too.

The second worst part was when everyone turned to look at her.

JJ, Emily, Reid, and Rossi were all in the downstairs of the house. They had holstered their guns, but Emily still had her hand on hers. The stairs were too narrow for Morgan to walk alongside her, so he held her hand as he walked in front of her. She was almost hesitant to take that final step, terrified of how the others would look at her.

When they heard the stair creak, they all turned their heads toward Evelyn. She froze, her blood running cold. She expected the concerned stares, the pitied eyes, it was all she got last time. Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to look them in the eyes.

JJ walked toward her, stopping only a few feet away.

“Can I hug you?” JJ asked.

Evelyn looked up to see that there were tears in her friend’s eyes, but a smile on her face. There was no pity, only relief.

Slowly, Evelyn nodded her head. JJ didn’t need to be told twice. She closed the distance, wrapping her arms around Evelyn’s neck. Emily was next, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of her head. Reid’s hug was awkward, shaky.

“If you ever need to talk,” he said quietly.

Evelyn nodded her head. She knew that he understood what it was like, to be taken and held against your will. She gave him a gentle smile that he returned. Rossi was the last to approach her. He had teary smile on his face as well. He didn’t hug her entirely, but instead put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her toward him to press a kiss against her forehead.

“C’mon,” Morgan said. “Ambulance is out here.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Evelyn said, looking over at him and giving a shake of your head.

Morgan raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Same old Evelyn.” He put an arm around her shoulder, as he always did. The action was simple, but it was enough to make her smile, to make her feel normal. “But yes, we’re taking you to the hospital.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes but let him lead her outside to the ambulance. Hotch was already out there, talking quietly to the EMT. Ralph must have gone in a different police car. He was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital?” Morgan said once she had a quick once over by the EMT.

“You’re not going to ride with me?” She asked. Evelyn hoped that the fear of being alone again that she was feeling didn’t show through in her voice.

“Hotch’ll go with you.”

Morgan dropped a hand on Hotch’s shoulder, who wore his usual scowl, his arms crossed. He turned toward Morgan, who raised his eyebrows and walked away.

“I’ll be right back,” the EMT said before turning and walking away.

Evelyn sat on the bed, still wearing the blanket Morgan had wrapped around her. Her stomach twisted as Hotch walked toward her. She kept her eyes at the ground, chewing on the inside of her lip. She could feel only shame as he looked at her. Maybe it was because he could see the bruises and the cuts and the blood. Maybe it was because she was at her lowest and he was her boss who should only ever see her at her best. Maybe it was because he had to talk her down from choking the life out of a man. Maybe it was some combination of everything.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, leaning up against the ambulance.

Evelyn nodded her head slowly. She would have responded with a decisive yes, but her mouth had gone too dry to talk.

“That’s a stupid question, of course you’re not okay,” Hotch muttered and looked down at his feet.

“I’m okay,” Evelyn affirmed. “I’m okay.”

When he looked back up at her, Evelyn was surprised to see his eyes were watery.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get you sooner.”

Evelyn shook her head as aggressively as she could manage.

“I knew you would come, Hotch,” she told him. “I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault.”

Hotch let out an almost bitter laugh.

“I should be saying that to you.” Hotch looked at her in such a way that made Evelyn’s stomach squeeze. “All this time, and you’re still looking after me.”

Evelyn gave him a small smile in return.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course.”

The EMT returned, telling Hotch that they were getting ready to go. He pulled himself into the ambulance and the EMT followed after him.

“Lie back,” the EMT said. Evelyn did as she was told, feeling a suffocating feeling settling on her chest as she stared up at the white ceiling. The sting of tears returned to her eyes and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to hold them back.

Her hands tensed at her side, clenching around the blanket of the gurney. Hotch, now sitting in the chair beside her, reached out and took her hand in his. She turned her head to look at him, sniffing in deeply.

“It’s going to be okay,” Hotch told her before giving her a sharp nod.

Evelyn nodded back at him, breathing in deeply. She let go of the blanket and shifted her hand around until her fingers were laced through his. She didn’t know how comfortable he was with holding her hand, but at the moment she didn’t care. She needed someone’s hand to hold. She needed his hand to hold.

She wasn’t in the hospital for very long, which she was grateful for. Garcia got there as soon as Evelyn was released and put a pair of shaking arms around her, already dissolved into tears. Evelyn laughed, grateful for her friend’s antics.

“I love you so much,” Garcia said, her tears watering Evelyn’s neck.

She had ditched the gross blanket and was currently sporting a wonderful hospital gown and Hotch’s coat.

“Are you staying somewhere? Do you need somewhere to stay? I’ve got some clothes and a warm bed and I can make you some tea-“

“I really appreciate it, Pen,” Evelyn said, “But Hotch offered me a bed already.”

Garcia stopped her rambling to stare at her, glancing behind Evelyn to where Hotch was talking to the rest of the team.

“Hotch offered-? Right, okay. That’s good. I still brought you some clothes to wear. Come with me.”

“O-okay.”

Garcia led Evelyn to the bathroom to put her in some clothes.

“As soon as they went to get you, I went home to grab you some clothes.” Garcia dropped her bag on the ground. Evelyn covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing. It was sweet of her friend, but Evelyn didn’t think she needed that many clothes for a few nights. “I hope it’s enough.”

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Evelyn stepped into one of the stalls and pulled a thin sweater on over her head and a pair of sweatpants. It wasn’t the cutest outfit, but it was comfortable, and it covered her ill looking body, so it would do.

Penelope was wiping tears away when Evelyn stepped out of the stall. Evelyn smiled at her and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“I’m okay, Pen.”

“Evie-“

“I’m really okay. I promise.”

Penelope let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

“Can I have a smile? It’ll make me feel better,” Evelyn said in a sing-songy, letting her hands fall back to her side.

A smile tugged at Penelope’s lips and she turned away, letting out a little laugh.

“There you go. Now the world’s right again.”

Evelyn and Penelope left the bathroom and rejoined the group just as Hotch was finishing his little speech.

“Go home, everybody. Get some sleep. We’ll come back to work on Monday,” Hotch was saying.

“Thank you,” Evelyn piped up before they turned to go their separate ways. “For everything.”

___

Hotch opened the front door of his apartment. It was dark inside, only one of the lamps were on. It was silent, still. Part of it was reassuring, the stillness. Part of it was unsettling, the quiet.

She looked back at Hotch and he nodded his head, so she stepped inside.

It felt better once she was inside. It was warm, warmer than the attic.

She had never even imagined stepping into Hotch’s home. She expected it to be stiff and cold like his office was, impersonal. But it was lively, with pictures hung on the walls and décor covering shelves full of books. Evelyn wondered absent-mindedly how much of it was Hayley’s sister or if Hotch had a secret interior designer in him somewhere. The thought made her smile.

“You’ll sleep through here,” Hotch said, his voice in a hushed tone. Jack was probably already in bed.

“Your room?” She asked, keeping her voice equally as low.

Hotch nodded.

“I’m not going to displace you,” Evelyn said. “I can sleep on the couch.”

On the couch, there was already a blanket and pillow set up.

“No, Caro. I can’t let you sleep on a couch your first day back,” Hotch said, giving his head a shake.

“Hotch, seriously-“

“Agent Caro…”

Evelyn tilted her head down and raised an eyebrow.

“Now you’re using your boss voice on me.”

To her amazement, Hotch actually smiled. He was looser here, less uptight. Something about passing into his house must have been some kind of release. Domestic Hotch was very different than at work Hotch.

“Fine,” Evelyn said. “But only for tonight.”

“I’ll be out here if you need me.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She turned down the hall as Hotch walked toward the couch. Evelyn stopped, turning to say one last thing to him, but she decided against it. He sat with his back to her, taking off his shoes. She watched him let out a deep sigh and roll tension out of his shoulders. Evelyn couldn’t help but think that she was the cause of that tension and the sooner she was out of his hair the better.

It was strange, standing by Hotch’s bed. This would be the first warm, safe bed she would be falling in to and it wasn’t her own, it was Hotch’s. It felt wrong to touch. It wasn’t hers. Even if he had said she could, it wasn’t hers. This bed belonged to someone else. Hotch’s permission didn’t feel like the only permission she needed.

On the bedside table, there was a picture. Hotch, Jack, and Hayley, all huddled together and smiling. Evelyn felt herself smiling as she looked at it. Reaching out her hand, she ran a finger along the picture frame.

“I hope it’s okay with you,” Evelyn whispered, looking at the picture of Hotch’s late wife.

They’d met a few times in the past and she was just the gentlest woman. She loved Hotch and she loved her son. There she was, staring up at Evelyn and smiling. But the only image that Evelyn had of her in her mind was Hayley’s limp body, the blood that stained her shirt.

Turning away from the picture, Evelyn pulled the blankets back before she kept overthinking. She dropped the bag that Garcia had given her onto the ground, flicked off her shoes and socks, and crawled into bed.

The warmth of the blankets was strange to her. Even her own bed wasn’t as warm as this one was. Still trying not to over think it, Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut and rolled onto her side. She breathed in deeply and was overwhelmed by his scent. With a heavy sigh, she rolled back onto her back and opened her eyes.

“Get over yourself, Evelyn,” she whispered to herself.

Breathing in slowly and steadily, Evelyn let her brain relax. She went to that safe place in her mind, that place far away. She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep, safe and warm in that room where no one could reach her.

It wasn’t until blood started to seep through the walls that she realized she was asleep.

She woke up to someone screaming. The sound echoed off the walls of the bedroom. Someone was crying.

“Caro. Caro.” Someone was calling her name. Someone close by. Someone far away.

“Evelyn!”

Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack. The room was still dark, but the bedside lamp was turned on. The blankets were half on the floor. She had been throwing them off when she kicked her legs. Hotch was sitting in front of her. Not just sitting in front of her, but holding onto her shoulders. He had been shaking her. There was worry on his face, his eyes wide. Behind him was Jack, tears rolling down his face.

He was the one who was crying. That must have meant she was the one who was screaming.

“You’re okay,” Hotch said. “You were just dreaming.”

Evelyn lifted her hands to her face to find that there were tears on her cheeks.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said, a scowl in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head. He looked tired. She must have woken him up.

“Is she okay?” Jack asked and sniffled.

“She’s fine, Jack, go back to bed,” Hotch said. When Jack hesitated, Hotch gave him a smile. “It’s okay. Go back to bed.”

Jack nodded and shuffled out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn whispered again, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hotch said again and dropped a hand onto her knee. “You’re safe here, no one can hurt you here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”

Her hands were shaking too badly for her to say anything else. She already couldn’t remember the dream, but there was blood, so much blood. And she remembered she couldn’t breathe, like there was a chain wrapped around her neck.

Evelyn shut her eyes and put her shaking hands up to her head.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

Hotch let out a sigh. He was frustrated with her. The thought made tears sting her eyes.

“It’s not your fault.”

Even with her eyes closed, the tears still managed to slide down her cheeks. Hotch reached out his hand and rested it on the back of her neck. The contact only made her tears fall faster. She moved her hands to cover her face, ashamed of her reaction. Hotch pulled her in toward him and the closer she got to him, the harder she started to cry.

He put his other arm around her and she lowered her forehead to his shoulder, the sobs shaking her shoulders. But Hotch held her tight, one hand on the back of the neck, the other on her back.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what she was really sorry for. Sorry for waking him up. Sorry for sleeping in his bed. Sorry for invading his space. Sorry for getting kidnapped. For getting in the way. For making his life harder. For setting them back from work for days.

“It’s okay, Evelyn. It’s okay.”

At the sound of her name, she stopped her apologies. She heard her first name come from his mouth so rarely, she didn’t want to talk over him. She just wanted to hear him say it again. Finally letting her hands fall away from her eyes, she let her hands fall into her lap.  

“It’s not your fault, Evelyn,” he whispered, hesitantly letting his fingers lace through her hair.

She sniffed.

“It wasn’t your fault and none of us are upset with you,” Hotch told her.

Slowly, her breathing started to return to normal, sucking in short, gasping breaths of air, but they were steadier.

He pulled away from her, brushing her damp hair out of her face and resting a hand on her cheek. She wouldn’t look at him, still taking shallow breaths, tears still rolling down her cheeks, body still shaking.

“None of us blame you for any of it,” he told her, leaning down to try and catch her eye. “And there’s nothing that could have ever happened to you or that you could have possibly done that wouldn’t make us come for you.”

He brushed a tear off of her cheek as it slid from her eye.

“Evelyn, look at me.”

It took her a moment, but she finally managed to lift her eyes to meet his. They were wide and terrified, trembling like the rest of her body. Hotch tightened his jaw.

“We’re not going anywhere. I know your last family left you after what happened, but I promise you, we are not going anywhere.” Evelyn let out another shuddered breath and nodded her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It took a few more moments to calm her down and by the time she had stopped crying, her eyes were getting heavy.

“Sleep now,” Hotch said, slowly standing up from the bed. She was still sitting up, her head hanging and her hands in her lap.

“Aaron?” He paused at the door and half turned toward her. “Will you….”

She scowled and cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“What can I do for you?”

She breathed out heavily and looked up at him again.

“Would you stay, here, with me?” She felt stupid, asking.

But he wasn’t looking at her in pity or loathing. He nodded his head before walking to the other side of the bed.

Evelyn laid back onto the pillow, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She closed her eyes, embarrassed to see him, as if her request was ridiculous and gross. But she didn’t think that she could have fallen asleep if she was on her own.

She felt the other side of the bed dip in and the blankets rustle.

“Do you want the light on?” He asked.

“You can turn it off if you’d like.”

The light flickered off and they were shrouded in darkness.

“Goodnight, Evelyn.”

“Night, Aaron.”

___

When Hotch woke up the next morning, the other side of the bed was empty. He got used to the empty bed a long time ago, but there was a pit in his stomach this time. Evelyn should be there. She should be-

There was a smell coming from the kitchen. A pleasant smell.

Sitting up and stretching, Hotch made his way to the bedroom door. He heard laughing coming from the kitchen. When he opened the door, he had a direct line of sight to the kitchen. Jack was already awake, sitting happily at the table. There were usually only two chairs at that table, but Jack had pulled up a third.

Standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face was Evelyn. Jack was saying something to her, barely incoherent through all his laughter. Evelyn was just laughing along with him. Hotch shuffled through the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the corner of the and crossing his arms.

“What is going on here?” He asked with a smile on his face.

Evelyn and Jack both turned to him, both smiling.

“Eggs, bacon, French toast,” Evelyn said. “Want some?”

Hotch couldn’t help the smile on his face. He nodded, walking toward Jack and sitting down at the chair next to him.

It was strange, seeing Evelyn this way. She was generally serious at work, like he was. She would laugh and tease with Morgan and the girls and Reid, but Hotch was so used to her being solid, so stoic, so ready. But here she was, smiling and laughing and making jokes with him.

Evelyn walked over to the table carrying three plates of food and set them onto the table. She sat down, the biggest grin on her face.

“Dig in,” she said.

Hotch and Evelyn both knew that this happiness on her face went only so deep. Her suffering and her pain were just starting to bubble to the surface. But for now, she could eat this breakfast, laugh with Jack, pretend everything was okay.

“Would you like to watch my soccer game today, Evie?” Jack asked as they took the empty plates back to the kitchen.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, hesitant.

“That would be great, buddy,” she said before looking back at Hotch. “Would you mind?”

“No, of course not.”

Jack’s grin was the brightest Hotch had seen in a long time.

Hotch knew of course about Evelyn’s competitive nature. They had been working together for years. He had seen enough games between her and Morgan to know that she liked to win. He still somehow didn’t expect that much competition to come out of her during his son’s soccer match.

She yelled from the sidelines, cheering for Jack and shouting at the ref and even exchanging glares with other parents. It was hard not to be distracted by her as Hotch tried to coach his team, trying to keep his laughing to a minimum. When the game ended, after Hotch had a word with the players, Jack ran straight for Evelyn. He stopped just in front of her, remembering what his dad had told him about not getting too close, and grinned up at her.

Evelyn put her hand on his head and ruffled his sandy blond hair.

“You were great out there, kid,” she said. “You got the most goals on your team.”

“We, uh, don’t usually keep score,” Hotch said as he walked over.

Evelyn looked up at him with the brightest smile.

“Well, I did and your team did a great job.”

One of the other moms walked over, her daughter and Jack immediately engaging in teasing and chatting about the game as they tried to kick each other in their still guarded shins.

“My name is Mary,” the mother said, reaching a hand out for Evelyn to shake. Evelyn startled, her heart rate spiking at Mary’s sudden movement. She recovered quickly, shaking Mary’s hand.

“Evelyn Caro.”

“Are you and Aaron-“

“We work together,” Hotch said.

Mary nodded her head.

“That explains the….”

She gestured toward Evelyn’s face before pausing and forced a smile.

“Right.”

Evelyn had forgotten how horrible her face must look. She had been absently rolling the scab on her lip between her teeth all day. Her bruised and cut cheek was sore, her other eye throbbing every now and again. The battered shape of her face hadn’t even crossed her mind while she offered to go to Jack’s game.

Evelyn looked over Hotch for assistance. His smile was still there, but thinner.

“Mary, how is your husband?” Hotch asked, clearly trying to direct the attention away from Evelyn. She was grateful for it.

She listened to their conversation with a smile until Jack walked back over to them and grabbed her by the hand. She turned to look at him with a smile. He beckoned for her to bend down and she did. Jack even stood on his toes so he could whisper in her ear.

“Can you ask Daddy if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” He asked, his voice so quiet that Evelyn barely heard him.

Still, she let out a laugh and straightened her back.

“I can do that.”

Jack grinned and ran back toward his friends. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him run away. She had met Jack only handful of times in the past, but he was such a light. He meant so much to Aaron that it was impossible for Evelyn not to love him, too. The poor boy had been through so much already.

“What did he want?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn turned back around to find that not only was Mary talking to Hotch, but three other unaccompanied women were hanging around as well. She resisted the urge to tease him about it right there. Teasing Hotch was also something new. She never would have done it before. Their relationship was strictly professional.

“Jack wants to go to McDonald’s on the way home,” Evelyn told Hotch.

“Ah,” Hotch said, his hands on his hips.

“The kids always do,” a blonde mother said, no ounce of amusement in her tone as she glanced at Evelyn.

“I suppose he thought you asking would make the likelihood of me saying yes higher?”

Evelyn shrugged. The other moms stood there, laughing joylessly, but Evelyn didn’t even see them.

They did stop at McDonald’s on the way home. Jack happily sang a song to himself in the backseat, munching on his apple slices and French fries. Evelyn was sitting in the passenger seat with one of her feet propped up on the dash.

“This feels like cheating,” Evelyn sighed, staring at the fries in her hands.

“How?” Hotch asked with a short laugh.

Evelyn shrugged, shoving the fries in her mouth.

“Something about it. They’re too good, I guess. There’s gotta be a downside.”

Hotch opened his mouth to say something but she held up her hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to profile my eating habits, Hotchner,” she said.

Hotch simply laughed.

When they got back from the game, Jack went to take a nap, leaving Evelyn and Hotch alone in the apartment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited the team over to watch the game this afternoon,” Hotch said.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Evelyn said. “This is still your home.”

“Right.” Hotch nodded his head.

She dropped herself onto the couch, her eyes tired, but she had no desire to sleep, especially if the team was coming over.

But her eyes were beginning to droop against her better judgement. The apartment was quiet, she could barely hear Hotch moving around until there was the soft sound of music flitting through the room.

Hotch sat down at the table, trying to be far enough away from the sleeping woman on his couch to help her feel comfortable. Light music floated through the room as he sat, flipping through a book that he wasn’t really reading. It seemed like every three seconds, his eyes would move from his book to where Evelyn was sleeping. He justified it to himself, trying to tell himself it was just to make sure she wasn’t having another nightmare. Last night had been hard on all of them and he didn’t want a repeat. But there was something else that kept drawing his gaze to her.

She just looked so at peace. Like none of the thousands of terrible things in the world could touch her. Her breathing was short, but steady and there was almost a bit of a smile on her face. His hands were tense around the book, just waiting for her breathing to change to signal to him that she was going to a place in her mind where she didn’t want to be.

He was almost tempted to ask the others to not come to allow Evelyn the chance to sleep. But Hotch thought it was best to allow her the time to socialize with the people she loved. She needed to be surrounded by support at this time and Hotch knew he couldn’t possibly provide enough of it to be any help.

An hour and a half later, fifteen minutes before the others were due to arrive, Hotch walked over to where she slept on the couch. Again, he was tempted to just let her sleep. But he put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light shake in hopes of rousing her.

“Caro,” he whispered.

She woke with a startled gasp, her eyes snapping open. Hotch was prepared for some kind of emotional response. He was ready in case she needed his help, but after the initial shock of being woken up, she sat up normally. Rubbing her eyes, Evelyn let out a yawn.

“Are they here?” She asked.

“Not yet,” Hotch said. “Soon. I’m going to wake up Jack. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” There was a little bit of a scowl on her face as she continued to try and wake herself up. “Anything I can do to help get ready?”

Hotch was already halfway to Jack’s room, but he shook his head.

“Everyone else is bringing food. We’re off the hook for this one,” he told her before slipping into Jack’s room.

Evelyn forced herself off the couch, even though her bones were still stiff and tired. She straightened the cushions she slept on before rubbing her eyes again. She didn’t think she had dreamed, which was the first time she hadn’t in a very long time.

She was rubbing tension out of her neck when there was the first knock at the door.

Evelyn started and reached for the gun that should have been there but wasn’t. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hand still on her hip where her gun should have been. She wanted to move, but her muscles felt frozen. Eyes wide and body tense, Evelyn struggled to breathe. There was a tightness in her chest she couldn’t shake.

There was a knock at the door again, but she still couldn’t move.

“Caro, you okay?” Hotch asked as he came back from Jack’s room. “Evelyn?”

He stopped on his way to the door. She saw him standing there, staring at her, but all she could do was watch the door. Her body began to shake ever so slightly from the tension in her muscles.

“It’s just the team, Caro,” Hotch said, slowly putting his hands out toward her. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

Evelyn heard what he was saying, but something in her bones told her that it was a bad guy, someone who wanted to come in and hurt her, hurt Hotch, hurt Jack. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Caro, I need you to look at me and just breathe,” Hotch was saying, taking a step toward her. There was another knock at the door and she flinched. “Look at me. Breathe.”

Evelyn sucked in one deep breath in through her nose before flickering her watery eyes away from the door and toward Hotch. He titled his head to the side, taking on a non-offensive stance. Her eyes strained to look at him.

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Evelyn gave a sharp shake of her head, her body jerking forward but her feet not going anywhere. “I’m going to open the door. It’s going to be okay.”

He took a step toward the door and Evelyn shook her head again. Hotch turned away from her and kept walking toward the door.

“Hotch,” Evelyn said, her words just barely above a whisper.

When his hand touched the handle, Evelyn shook her head again, staring at the door unblinking. The door unlocked and the handle turned.

“Hotch-“

The door opened. Evelyn’s eyes widened even further, waiting for Ralph to be standing there on the other side.

But it was just Penelope and JJ and Emily, all grinning wildly.

Evelyn blinked her eyes hard and shook her head, dropping her hands back to her sides and relaxing her defensive stance.

“Come in,” Hotch was saying.

Evelyn forced a smile onto her face and went to greet her friends as they came in. She helped them set up the table with the food and drinks they brought.

“How are you doing?” JJ asked as she tore into the chips.

Evelyn sighed, still trying to smile.

“I’m doing okay,” she said.

“I might not be as good a profiler as any of you guys,” JJ said. “But I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

Evelyn turned to face her, leaning her hip against the table and crossing her arms.

“I am doing as well as you can imagine I’m doing,” Evelyn said. “But most of the time I’m doing okay.”

JJ put a hand on her friend’s arm and offered a small smile.

“If you ever need anything-“

“I know you’re always there for me, JJ,” Evelyn said. “I won’t ever forget it.”

JJ nodded and they turned back to the table. It was only a few more minutes before the boys arrived. After greeting Hotch and Emily, Morgan came straight for Evelyn, who was still at the table rearranging everything for the fifteenth time.

“I swear I’m going to lose it if you ask me if I’m okay, Derek Morgan,” Evelyn said, moving the napkins off the plates where she had just put them.

Morgan let out his signature laugh before throwing an arm over her shoulders.

“I know how you’re doing, so I don’t need to ask,” Morgan told her. “I just came over here to give you a hug.”

Evelyn let out a breath and turned toward him, eagerly putting her arms around his waist. There was safety in his arms. Her muscles were still tense from her moment before, and it felt impossible for her to relax and fall into normalcy with her friends. But with Morgan there, everything seemed to be at least a little bit okay.

“Keep fighting,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s how you win.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She pulled away and quickly swiped away a stray tear before wiping her hands on her jeans. She back at Morgan briefly with a strained smile, glad to see him smiling back.

“Let’s go sit,” Morgan said to her.

Evelyn sat herself on the very end of the couch, knowing how much her team loved to cram in together and not really feeling comfortable being stuck in between Morgan and JJ as they shouted back and forth at each other about their opposing sports opinions. She sat with her feet up on the couch and her knees pulled up to her chest.

Reid sat next to her, still and quiet.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey, Reid.”

He didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t really want him to. Still, she leaned toward him and put her head on his shoulder. Reid tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed.

“It’s good to have you back,” he whispered to her.

“It’s good to be back,” she whispered back.

A few minutes before the game had started, there was already yelling going on between Rossi and JJ about something Evelyn couldn’t really follow. Jack came out of his room, hair a mess and eyes looking tired.

“Hey, buddy!” Hotch said. “Come for some food?”

The newly awake Jack shook his head and hobbled over to Evelyn. She dropped her feet to the ground as he struggled to crawl into her lap. He dropped his head to her shoulder.

“You okay, kid?” she asked him, rubbing her hand up and down his back. He nodded and yawned.

A chip flew over her head that Morgan had definitely thrown at Rossi who sat in the chair next to Evelyn. Penelope was watching the commercials eagerly, shouting at everyone to quiet down. JJ had roped Emily into her argument with Rossi and Reid was telling Morgan something about some sports statistic that Morgan was desperately trying to refute.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, who was watching them with a look in his eye that she couldn’t really read. She was usually good at reading Hotch, but every now and again, he’d get this look that she didn’t understand. When he noticed her looking, he gave her a smile and nodded his head.

Part way through the game, Jack left her lap to go and grab some food. She offered him her seat when he came back so that she could go over to the table for some food and a breather. Hotch met her there, scooping cheese dip onto his paper plate.

“Intense game,” Evelyn said, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Very.”

“Oh, come on!” Morgan yelled.

Evelyn laughed quietly to herself.

“If you need to step out-“

“I’m fine, Hotch, really,” she said, turning toward him. “Everything’s good. What happened earlier-“

“Was a completely normal reaction.” Evelyn was startled by his rebuttal interruption. “You’re allowed to have bad moments or even bad days.”

“I know that.”

“You’re also allowed to have fun.”

“I know that, too.”

Morgan stood up quickly from the couch, letting out half a expletive before remembering Jack was there and switching it up half way through.

“I really missed this, though,” Evelyn said through a laugh.

Hotch looked at her and then looked over at Morgan and let out a sigh.

“He was really worried about you,” Hotch told her, his hands tightening around the poor paper plate in his hand.

Evelyn nodded her head, looking down at the grapes in her hand.

“I thought I’d never see him again. I thought I’d never see any of you again,” she told him.

“You didn’t think we’d find you?”

“Oh, I knew you would,” she looked back over at him. “I just didn’t know if it would be soon enough.”

“Evelyn-“

“Evie, come look at this!” Penelope called, waving her over.

“Pardon me, Hotch.”

Hotch watched her walk away and kneel on the ground beside Garcia. They laughed about something. Smiling looked good on her, but he knew that it only ran so deep. He couldn’t wait for the day that smile would be real again. He just hoped he was there to see it.

By the time everyone left, the sun was almost down. They stayed long after the game, talking and laughing and throwing things at each other like a bunch of children. Penelope was the last to go, always asking for one last hug while Morgan waited for her just outside.

“I’ll see you soon, Pen,” Evelyn laughed, trying to push her friend toward the door.

“I hate leaving you,” Penelope said.

“I think I’m in the safest hands I can be.”

Penelope pulled away at that.

“You’re right.” She looked over at Hotch. “Hotch won’t let anything happen to you. You’re perfectly safe here.”

Evelyn gave her a smile.

“Exactly. Now, go. Morgan’s waiting for you.”

Penelope straightened her jacket and nodded her head.

“Right.” She turned and walked out the door. “Let’s go, Derek.”

Morgan offered one last wave, tossing an arm over Penelope’s shoulders. He sent a look Evelyn’s way that she read perfectly. If she needed anything….

Hotch shut the door and the apartment was silent. Evelyn let out a heavy breath.

“That was fun,” Jack said, laying on the couch.

“Time for bed for you, buddy,” Hotch said.

The team was generally good at cleaning up after themselves and taking the food that they had brought with them, but there was always a mess to clean up afterward. The few times Evelyn had one of these gatherings at her own place taught her this well enough. Hotch walked Jack toward his room while Evelyn turned to start cleaning.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hotch said, emerging from his son’s room as Evelyn pulled the full trash bag out of the trash can.

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing this place is a mess,” she told him.

It was these quiet moments when it was just the two of them that Evelyn felt the most exposed, the most terrified. Not that he would hurt her because she knew he never would, but just knowing that all of his attention was on her made her almost sick to her stomach.

“I’ll take the trash to the can outside,” Hotch said, walking toward her.

“Alright.”

She handed the bag off to him, his fingers just barely grazing over her hand. Evelyn elected not to look up at him as electricity crackled up her arm. She breathed in deeply and turned toward the couch.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. He took a few steps away from her and Evelyn just nodded her head.

She didn’t look at him as he left the room. With a pounding heart, Evelyn sat slowly onto the couch, shutting her eyes and breathing deeply until she dropped her head into her hands.

What was wrong with her? She had always been able to keep her emotions under control around Hotch. Always. Even when he was talking about Hayley, even when he cared so deeply about people it made him rage, even when he did that thing with his eyes that silenced even the haughtiest narcissist, even when he gave her a look that put all other looks to shame. She had always kept her cool because that was what she had trained herself to do.

But now her training was backfiring on her. Her training was making her think danger was there when it wasn’t. Her training was making her question the movements of everyone she loved. Her training was taking her sleep from her. Her training was crumbling and slowly revealing that terrified girl that lay underneath.

Evelyn opened her eyes, hoping to think of absolutely anything else than the heat in her cheeks and the pounding of her heart in her stomach.

Maybe keeping her eyes closed may have been better because as soon as her eyes were open, they landed on Hotch’s bag propped up against the coffee table. Someone must have moved it during the game. Sticking out of the top was a file. There was no name on the file, but Evelyn knew it was hers, or at least from the last job they’d done, which was hers.

Instinct took over and she bent down, snatching the yellow folding from his bag. It was thick, thicker than she’d have liked. Laying it on the table, her suspicions were confirmed as she flipped open the first page. It was this last case and the very first picture on it was the one they took in the hospital when she first arrived.

Evelyn didn’t realize how terrible she looked until just then. She was thin, trembling. Her hair was matted with blood. She looked dirty, covered in blood and bruises. Evelyn gagged, covering her mouth with her hand. That was how all of her friends had seen her that day. The thought made her shiver.

The picture just underneath it was the one they had taken when she was a kid. The similarities in the pictures made her even sicker.

She shuffled through the files, eyes scanning the pages just like Reid had taught her, until she found Hotch’s report.

She pulled it out, hands shaking as she held it in front of her. She had always wondered how Hotch managed to write these reports, summing up everything they went through during the case in just a few short pages.

Her throat swelled as she read through the beginning. She read about the women Ralph killed, how they were assaulted and murdered, how the team discovered it was Ralph. She read through them deciding to send Evelyn into the meeting to find Ralph and lure him in. She didn’t know then that he was the step kid of her uncle. If she had, she wouldn’t have gone in there empty handed.

Then she read how they had found out she was missing and what they did to find her. Her heart plummeted into her stomach, dropping from her chest like a ton of rocks. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, hoping swallow the sob that was threatening to come from her mouth. Sitting in that attic, Evelyn had wondered what the point of killing those other women was. She had spent hours pouring over ideas. She thought him running into her was an accident, pure coincidence. This case already put her on edge, seeing as it took place in the very same town she grew up in.

But the team had solved it. They had figured it out. All those women that Ralph had killed….

Tears clouded her vision, but she refused to blink. A quiet moan of distress came from her. She didn’t even hear the door of the apartment open.

“Evelyn?”

She didn’t jump at the sound of Hotch’s voice. Instead, she turned toward him slowly, those same tears gathered in her eyes.

“It’s my fault,” she said, holding the report in her hands. The tears dropped from her lashes, hitting her cheeks with the strength of a butterfly.  

“It’s not.”

“It is!” Hotch let out a defeated breath. “It says right here that-“

“That report says Ralph Bennet made the decision to assault and murder those four women.”

“Because of me!”

Hotch walked over to her and sat on the couch beside her, but not too close.

“Did you kill those women, Caro?”

“No, but-“

“No, you didn’t.”

“Hotch, he killed them because I knew them. He killed them because he knew it would lure me in. If I hadn’t-“

“What? If you hadn’t what?” She was quiet. “If you hadn’t killed your uncle? You did what you had to do to survive, Evelyn. No one will fault you for that.”

“If I hadn’t….” she trailed off, staring at the paper with her teary eyes.

“If you hadn’t come with us to solve this case? More women would have died.”

“I fell right into his trap,” she whispered, her hands tightening around the paper. “I didn’t even know he existed, and he knew me well enough to set the trap and just wait for me to walk right into it. I can’t believe I was that stupid.”

“Do you want to know what that tells me?”

She looked up at him.

“You returned to a town where you had been traumatized to help bring justice to these women. You went into that meeting trying to catch a killer. You stayed alive long enough for us to find you using clues that you gave us.” Evelyn sniffed, wiping the underside of her nose with the back of her hand. “You’re not stupid, Evelyn. You’re the bravest person I have ever met.”

She looked over at Hotch again, her lower lip trembling.

“They died for me,” she said and took in a shaky breath. A tear slid down her nose. “How do I repay them for that?”

Hotch was quiet for a moment and heaved out a sigh, just allowing him time to think of a proper answer.

“You live,” he told her. “You survive this and carry on for them.”

Evelyn closed her eyes. She was hearing him and her brain was telling her that he was right, but her heart wasn’t believing him. She couldn’t believe him.

Without saying anything, Evelyn pushed herself off the couch and made for the door, hoping to escape before he could see the tears that were threatening to run from her eyes again.

“Caro, where are you going?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“I need some air,” she replied as she struggled with the lock on the door.

“I’ll come with you.”

“I need to be alone right now,” she said, finally getting the door open.

Hotch put his hand on the door and pushed it shut. Evelyn froze, keeping her hand on the doorknob.

“You’re not going anywhere by yourself.”

Evelyn turned around slowly. Hotch was looming over her, his hand still on the door to keep her from opening it again.

“Let me out, Hotch.”

“You’re not a prisoner here, but you’re not going out there alone.”

She stared at Hotch unblinkingly. Evelyn’s breathing started to speed up, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but it wasn’t anger or fear that made her heart rate spike.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?”

Evelyn knew she was poking the bear, but she felt like she had to. Poke the bear yourself, make it roar on your terms before it decides to do it itself.

“Why can’t I go out there alone? You think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, I know you can-“

“Then why won’t you let me leave?”

“Because I want you to be safe.”

The calmness of his voice made her even angrier. It made her want to poke harder.

There was a gaping wound in her soul and it was still gushing blood. Hotch was trying to patch it up, help her to heal, but he was getting too close to the only thing that kept her breathing. He was getting too close to the wound and she was terrified of the idea of him seeing her, feeling her, so she recoiled. She would snap at him until he left her alone. Until he left her wound bleed in peace.

“Why did you come for me?”

“Why did we come for you?” Hotch repeated, astounded by her question. “You’re part of the team. Why wouldn’t we come for you?”

“I’m not asking about the team, Aaron. I’m asking about you.”

Hotch straightened at the sound of his first name. She knew why. She’d done it on purpose. She needed to convince him she was angry. That was the only way to keep him at bay.

“I couldn’t just let you rot there; the team needs you.”

“The team?” She let out a bitter laugh before pushing past him and stalking into the middle of the room. “It’s always about the team with you, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“I could have died in that house, Aaron, and all you can come up with is the team needed me and that’s why you came?”

She hated the taste her words left in her mouth. She hated saying them. But she had to. She had to push him away if she had any hope for surviving. She had tied her heart to his and if she didn’t severe it now….

There was real anger in his eyes at her words. Finally, an emotion. A chink in his armor.

“If you had died in that house, I would have killed that bastard myself!”

Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath. It was so rare to see an emotion on Aaron Hotchner. In the last few days alone, she had seen more from him than she had ever seen in all her years working with him; fear, joy, grief, anger, relief. And it was mostly because of her.

“Enough with the team needs me bullshit.” Evelyn dropped the tone of her voice. “I’m going for a walk.”

She turned her back on him and walked toward the front door. She made it all the way there, her hand on the doorknob before Hotch spoke again.

“I need you.”

Evelyn froze, her hand glued to the doorknob as if it was ice and her hand was burning hot. Her blood ran cold and her heart stopped in her chest.

“What?”

“You don’t accept that you’re a vital member of the team as a worthy reason for us to come and help you? Fine.” There it was again, anger in Hotch’s voice. His dark eyebrows were pulled together. “I need you.”

Evelyn had started this argument because she needed to keep his hands away from the wound she was nursing, the wound that every breath seemed to tear open a little bit more. His kindness and compassion were just insult to injury. But his sincerity in this moment punched through every wall around her wound that she had been attempting to build up in the last few minutes.

He said it like he would say any other truth. He said it like he would say anything during a case; without a hint of uncertainty.

She turned toward him. For the first time in a while, she felt no shame as tears glimmered in her eyes.

“You mean it?” She asked, pulling on the edges of her sleeve.

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

“I mean when, Emily-“ Evelyn stopped herself and cleared her throat. “No. You haven’t.”

Hotch stood there, clearly not wanting to say anything else that would set her off. Evelyn bowed her head, let her hand fall away from the doorknob, and she crossed the room, putting her arms around his waist before he even realized that she was coming toward him.

Hotch was frozen for a second, her change in mood so rapid that he almost couldn’t register it. Evelyn’s eyes were screwed shut as she prayed that he wouldn’t reject her embrace, though she could understand if he did. But, eventually, he put his arms around her, pulling her in closer and she could finally relax.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, letting the tears stream down her face, fast and hot. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he told her, his words just as quiet.

“Please don’t give up on me.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m trying.”

Hotch knew from the report what happened with her parents after she had escaped from her uncle. He knew how they turned their back on her in the following months. She had come back to them after four years, after killing her father’s brother, and she wasn’t the little girl they had lost anymore. They reported anger issues, lashing out, screaming and hitting and breaking things. They told authorities they couldn’t handle her anymore. They just didn’t know what to do.

But Hotch also knew that she was a child who was cut so deeply by someone she trusted and that she deserved to be loved and protected by her family no matter what. No matter how loudly she screamed, no matter the mess she made, they should have loved her. They should have fought for her just as hard as she was fighting to survive. He wouldn’t abandon her like they did.

“I promise not to give up on you if you promise me not to give up on yourself,” he told her.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Promise,” she said.

___

The following months were hard. Moving back into her own apartment where it was quiet and the silence was deafening was the hardest part. When there was no one to wake her from her nightmares or hold her while she cried, when there was no Jack to make her laugh even when she wanted to cry, when there was just her and the mirror. She hated being back home. She wanted to back at the Hotchner’s, but she knew she couldn’t impose on them any longer.

There were days when her promise to Hotch was the only thing that kept her going. He had made her promise not to give up on herself and she would be damned before she disappointed Hotch again. So, she fought, tooth and nail, just to stay afloat. Some days, that looked like lying in bed and letting the tears fall. Some days, that looked like calling Morgan or Penelope and asking them to play a board game with her. Some days, that looked like running until she couldn’t breathe. Some days, that looked like dancing around her apartment at 3 am.

Slowly, she began to remember what it was like to feel alive. And she started to love it again.

The day she came back to work, the smile on her face reached deep into that wound in her soul. It wasn’t healed, but it was better. It didn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

The team acted like she knew they would on her first case. Hotch didn’t let her go anywhere by herself. Someone had to be by her side at all times. It was suffocating, but she knew it was for the best.

By the time the case was finished and the guy arrested, Evelyn almost felt like herself again. This is what she was meant to be doing. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting by herself in her room all day, wasting away. The field was in her blood. It was part of her.

They all went out to dinner that night and everything was right in the world again. Evelyn used to sit in her apartment, Hotch and Morgan and Garcia sending her updates as they went. She knew when she got the triple text that the case was over that they’d be going out to eat, celebrating, having a laugh to cope with everything they had seen. And she would sit in her dark apartment.

But now she was in the right place. They went to a pub downtown. She ordered fries and a coke with a little cherry on top. Morgan made fun of her for smothering her fries in ketchup. She stole a bite of Emily’s pasta as she talked to Rossi. Life had returned to normal, and it was just what she needed.

The next few cases went the same way. Hotch began to trust her being alone again, allowing her to have the space she needed to do her job. There were cases where she needed to step into the bathroom and cry. There were times when she stayed behind with the local police because she couldn’t even think about going in without panicking. And the nights in her apartment alone were the worst.

But as long as she was on a case with her team, things were actually okay. She could push away her fear and the anxiety that made her bones rattle and her muscles freeze. She could go back to be Agent Evelyn Caro, where she was at her best.

Almost a year passed. Evelyn knew that the anniversary fear was a thing, but she was determined to be fine. The case they came in for was the farthest away from anything that could remind her of what she went through. Men were being taken and killed. The pattern was easy to solve, the profile quick to figure out. Everything was going to be okay.

Until Hotch and Evelyn were hunting the killer on their own. Evelyn was walking through a suspect’s house with her gun drawn, knowing that Hotch was upstairs doing the same thing. There was a thud coming from the second floor.

“Hotch?” Evelyn called out. “You okay?”

There was no reply. Her heart started to seize.

“Hotch?”

Walking toward the stairs, her gun drawn, Evelyn told herself to breathe. She would be no help to Hotch if she was panicking. She took one step up the stairs before a sudden and sharp pain exploded against the side of her head, sending her into the wall, knocking her unconscious.

When Evelyn woke up, she was in a basement. Her head squeezed and ached, jaw stiff. She shook her head and forced her eyes open.

Sitting across the room from her, still unconscious, was her boss.

“Hotch!”

Evelyn scrambled over to him, barely standing at all before she dropped to the ground next to him.

“Hotch, hey, you good?”

She saw him breathing, so that was something, but he was unresponsive to her voice. She shook his shoulders, but still he slept.

“Please don’t fire me,” Evelyn whispered before pulling her hand back and slapping him across the face.

Hotch gasped and his eyes flew open, his body falling over to the side.

“Oh, thank God,” Evelyn breathed.

“Did you slap me?” Hotch asked her, sitting back up.

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

“So you slapped me?”

Evelyn shrugged as Hotch rubbed his jaw with his hand.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” he told her. Evelyn felt herself almost smile. “Where are we?”

Evelyn looked around the basement and let out a heavy breath.

“Not sure,” she said. “We got the profile wrong, didn’t we?”

Hotch nodded his head and used the support beam in the middle of the room to push himself upward.

“There was a woman. I thought she was hurt, but….”

“She got the drop on the mighty Aaron Hotchner? I’m impressed.” Evelyn teased, needed to joke about something before her brain exploded from the pain or the panic she felt growing in her bones took over completely.

Hotch looked down at Evelyn with a stern look that told her maybe joking wasn’t his favorite way to cope with being kidnapped. Evelyn pursed her lips and pushed herself onto her feet.

“Lions got me, I think,” Evelyn told him, using the support beam to keep her standing.

“So there are two of them and one of them is a woman.” Hotch breathed out a sigh. “How does that change the profile?”

“We know that the men were chosen because Lions wanted something they had.”

“Position, status, money-“

“A certain woman.”

Hotch turned to look at Evelyn, who was scanning the basement as if it would hold the answers. There were blood stains on the ground. This was definitely where the victims were killed. There was a door at the top of the stairs, but if these guys were any good at what they did, the door would be locked.

“You think his partner could have been the wife of one of the victims?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn looked back at him and shrugged.

“A wife, a girlfriend, a sister, a daughter. Maybe the person he wants to take her from isn’t even dead yet, but he’s the reason Lions is killing.”

“Why would she help him?”

Evelyn breathed out again.

“Maybe she feels trapped where she’s at and he’s got her convinced this is the only way to save her? If she feels completely dependent on him, she might just do whatever he says.”

“Even kill?”

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders again, but they both knew that the answer was yes. A woman caught in a corner was just as capable of killing as anyone else.

“Well, that’s good then,” Hotch said, putting his hands on his hips.

“How is any of that good?”

“It means I’m the one they want, not you,” Hotch said.

Evelyn’s eyebrows pinched together.

“That really doesn’t sound good, Hotch.”

“You can get through to the partner, Caro,” Hotch said, walking back toward her. Evelyn narrowed her eyes even further at him.

“Maybe, yes.”

“Good. That will get us out of here.”

He turned away from her again. He pulled off his blazer and loosened his tie and the temperature in the room raised about fourteen degrees. Evelyn had to shake away her imagination before responding.

“And what are you going to do?”

“What they brought me here for.”

___

“Please, stop!”

The female unsub, Rosalie, held tight to Evelyn’s arms, holding her back as the male unsub, Jeremy Lions, pounded his fist into Hotch’s face.

“You think you’re so strong,” Hotch laughed, taunting Lions. “Don’t you?”

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“You have to stop him,” Evelyn said to Rosalie. “No one else can get through to him.”

“He’s doing what he has to to keep us safe,” Rosalie whispered to Evelyn, but despite the strength in her arms, her voice was weak. “Your friend just needs to give in. It’ll be easier that way.”

Lions hit Hotch again and Evelyn cried out, pulling against Rosalie.

“Shut her up, Rose!”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie whispered in Evelyn’s ear, holding her right from behind. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No!” Evelyn struggled against the woman holding her, jerking her shoulders in hopes of breaking free.

“You really think that any of this will earn you manhood, Lions?” Hotch said with a laugh, turning the unsub’s gaze back onto him and away from Evelyn.

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“Stop it, damnit!”

Lions whirled around and backhanded Evelyn in attempts to get her to quiet down. Rosalie gasped and let Evelyn fall to the ground.

“Jeremy! You said we wouldn’t hurt her!”

Lions let out a growl and grabbed onto Rosalie’s arm, dragging her out of the basement and leaving Hotch and Evelyn behind.

“You need to get through to Rosalie, Caro,” Hotch said as soon as she took a single step toward him.

“I am,” she huffed. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “She doesn’t want me to get hurt, that much is clear. If she associates you getting hurt with me getting hurt, she’ll push for Lions to hurt you less.”

Hotch nodded his head once, stretching out his jaw.

“You trust me, right?” Hotch said.

“Of course.” Evelyn’s response was immediate.

“Good.”

That night, they slept in the basement on opposite sides of the room, even though it was freezing cold. Saying they slept was an over exaggeration. Evelyn could barely even close her eyes. It was the cold that kept her eyes frozen open, but it was also the reality of it all. She was trapped, once again. She was a prisoner, once again. She was at the mercy of a man, once again.

And Hotch was here but she had never felt more alone.

The door creaked open and Evelyn sat up with a gasp. She shuffled backward, away from the door, but it was just Rosalie walking down the wooden stairs. The woman locked the door behind her, but still flinched.

“Hi,” Rosalie whispered as she neared. There was a cup and a plate in her hand. She watched the sleeping Hotch as she walked by, only turning her attention back to Evelyn once she passed him.

“Hi,” Evelyn whispered back, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“I…I’m not going to hurt you,” Rosalie said. She lowered herself to the ground a few feet away from her. Rosalie set the cup and the plate down and scooted it closer to Evelyn.

Evelyn looked between the food and the woman.

“You need to eat.” Rosalie’s voice was soft. Kindly.

Evelyn straightened her back and lifted her chin, giving a slight shake of the head.

“I’m not hungry.”

Rosalie let out a sigh and turned to look over at Hotch, who still slept soundly.

“Saving it for him won’t do anything for either of you,” Rosalie said, almost sadly. “Only one of you is making it out of here. I think you know which one it’s going to be.”

___

“Here, eat.” Evelyn pushed the plate of cold potatoes and toast in his direction, the cup of water sitting on top. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “Rosalie came in last night. Brought us some food.”

“Did you eat?” He asked her, sitting up from his sleeping position.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Caro-“

“I ate, Hotch,” she said, a little more harshly than she meant to. “You need to keep your strength if we’re going to have a repeat of yesterday.”

Hotch almost laughed as he hooked his finger over the edge of the plate and slid it toward himself. Evelyn watched, her stomach gurgling as he took a bite out of the bread.

“Stale toast is just ravishing, isn’t it?” Evelyn asked as she leaned up against the wall he also sat against. Hotch hummed his response. He ate slowly, took a sip of water.

“How are you?” He asked.

Evelyn rolled her head against the wall to look over at him.

“Just peachy, Hotchner. How are you?”

“I’m serious. How are you doing?”

Evelyn let out a sigh, looked up at the ceiling, and closed her eyes.

“Taking it one breath at a time,” she said. “I’ll deal with the aftermath once we’re out of here.”

Evelyn looked over at him again and attempted a half-cocked smile. Hotch wasn’t smiling. He was staring at her, staring right through her smile and her outer shell of calmness and straight into her soul where her wound was, her wound that was slowly starting to heal.

“I’ll be okay, Aaron,” she said, dropping her smile. “Promise.”

Hotch nodded his head and turned away from her.

“Don’t do anything stupid today, Caro,” he told her.

“Do I ever?”

___

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Hotch sighed as Evelyn let out a hiss of pain.

“I didn’t realize that trying to stop you from dying was considered something stupid.”

“It is when you get put in harm’s way.”

Evelyn held a strip of her shirt against her bleeding nose. Hotch rolled up his sleeves.

“We’ve got two days left here,” Hotch said, pacing back and forth in front of Evelyn.

“The team will find us,” Evelyn replied. She lowered the piece of her shirt and scrunched her nose before stretching it out again.

“I don’t doubt it.”

The sun went down sooner than Evelyn thought it would, meaning she had slept longer than she thought she had.

“You should sleep,” Hotch said.

“I’m not tired.”

“He won’t hurt you, Caro.”

The dark concealed Hotch’s face from her, even though he was only a few feet away. Evelyn shifted uncomfortably.

“I know.”

“If I don’t make it out of here-“

“Hotch, stop. We’re both going to walk out of here just fine.”

“But if I don’t, promise to take care of Jack.” Evelyn breathed in deeply, ready to shake her head and tell him again that they were going to both survive this. “Promise me.”

Instead of arguing, which she knew would get them nowhere, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I promise.”

Hotch didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t sleep. The change in his breathing after a while told her that he had fallen asleep.

She didn’t know how long it was before the door creaked open. Evelyn startled and sat up straighter, gasping in a breath. But it was just Rosalie, coming down with more food. This time, she didn’t say anything. She sat right next to Evelyn and set the food between them.

“You have to eat,” she said finally.

Evelyn reached out and took the cup of water and brought it to her parched lips. She drank some, but set it down before it was finished.

“You don’t have to save it for him.”

Evelyn turned her head to look at Rosalie.

“He’s my friend. I’m not going to let him starve.”

Rosalie was quiet for a moment.

“I think he’s more than that.”

“How did you meet Jeremy?” Evelyn asked. She thought she saw a smile on Rosalie’s lips.

“I lived with my brother and his wife as their live-in nanny of sorts. Jeremy worked for them as a gardener. My father kept me locked up my entire life and when he died, my brother took over. His sister’s keeper or something. But Jeremy he…. he made me feel free and alive and seen. And so, so loved.”

Rosalie stopped there, her smile lingering for a few moments before falling.

“But he changed, didn’t he?”

Rosalie nodded her head slowly, her lower lip curling and tears starting to run down her cheeks. Evelyn just let her cry for a few moments, until the woman collected herself. She sucked in a sob and stuffed her hands full of her dress.

“He took me from my brother’s house, brought me here,” Rosalie said. “Said he needed my help.”

“He used you to lure in men that he saw as superior to himself so that he could kill them.”

Rosalie nodded again, tears still rolling from her eyes.

“I never wanted to…I tried to tell him that I love him as he is…that he doesn’t need to-“

“Rosalie, listen to me. Nothing you could ever do will convince him of that because his issues have nothing to do with you,” Evelyn said, turning to face her.

“I don’t….”

“Jeremy Lions may love you, Rosalie, but he is very sick. He is not killing people to be a better man for you, no matter what he has told you. He feels inferior so he thinks he has to kill to be superior. That’s why he wanted Hotch.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

Evelyn heaved out a breath.

“Hotchner is everything Jeremy thinks he’s lacking. Confident, strong. He’s got a high-ranking job. He’s respected by his peers. He’s good looking and has a nice home and great friends. Jeremy doesn’t think he has any of this and he wants it, which is why he wants to hurt Hotchner.”

“To take something he doesn’t think he has.”

Evelyn sucked in a breath and reached forward to take Rosalie’s hands in hers.

“No matter what you do, Rosalie, you will never be enough for him, do you understand? He has you, he has love, but that will never be enough for him.”

“No, no!” Rosalie stood up quickly. “No. Once we’re married, everything will be okay. We’ll buy a new house. Live a happy life.”

“Rosalie-“

“No! You’re wrong.”

“Rosalie….”

“You’re wrong!”

Rosalie hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Evelyn shut her eyes again. With a growl, she pounded her knuckles into the hard concrete ground.

“You okay?”

Hotch was barely awake, his voice gravelly and tired.

“I’m okay, Hotch, go back to sleep.”

He grumbled something and was soon asleep again. Evelyn could do nothing but sigh. Still, she didn’t sleep.

The next day went no better than the last. It was night again before Evelyn knew it. She sat on the ground, head between her knees. Hotch stood, leaning up against the support beam in the middle of the room.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said. Evelyn didn’t move. “Talk to me.”

“I told you, I’ll deal with it after we get out of here,” she told him, her words muffled by her knees.

Hotch walked toward her and let out a groan as he lowered himself to the ground.

“You can sleep,” he told her, his words even quieter than they were before. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

Evelyn lifted her head finally to look at him.

“That’s not why I’m not sleeping,” she said, which was partially a lie. She didn’t sleep because she needed to be aware at all times. She couldn’t risk nodding off and letting her guard down. But there was another part to it.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked her.

“I thought I was going to die alone in that house, Aaron.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Twice. I stay awake because I can’t stand the thought of dying alone. And if you die while I’m sleeping-“

Hotch reached out and took her hand in his. When she looked over at him, he was staring straight ahead, not looking at her. She let out a shaky sigh and let him lace his fingers through hers. It was all the comfort that she needed.

“You’re not going to die alone,” Hotch told her. “You’re not going to die here at all.”

Evelyn nodded and let a few of the tears in her eyes fall, grateful for the darkness to cover her face. She lowered her head slowly to his shoulder, damning all protocol to hell, if there even was protocol for maybe dying in a basement with your boss. When Hotch didn’t immediately pull away from her or shake her off his shoulder, she settled in and shut her eyes.

“You’re not dying here either,” she said. “Not if I can help it.”

For the first time in days, Evelyn slept.

She awoke to someone grabbing hold of her hand. Her first thought was that it was Hotch squeezing her in his sleep. But when she gasped and opened her eyes, she found that it was just Rosalie sitting in front of her. It was still dark outside. She thought that the woman had brought her more food, but she turned out to be wrong.

“We have to go,” Rosalie whispered. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie put a shaking finger to her lips and pulled on Evelyn’s hand. “You were right. We have to go now.”

Rosalie pulled Evelyn to her feet, dragging her toward the door before she was even fully awake.

“Wait, stop,” Evelyn whispered, trying to shake herself awake.

“No, now! This is the only chance you have.”

Rosalie dragged Evelyn out of the basement doors and up the stairs into the house above. It wasn’t the same house that Hotch and Evelyn had been searching before, she could tell that even in the dark.

“Where are you taking me, Rosalie?”

“You have to get out of here, now! Jeremy doesn’t want to kill you, but he will,” Rosalie said, pulling her through the rundown and dirty home.

“Stop. Stop!” Evelyn dug her heels into the ground and forced Rosalie to stop. “I’m not leaving Aaron.”

“You don’t have time!” There was nothing but pure desperation in Rosalie’s voice. “Jeremy knows I left. He’s coming here. You have to go now or you’re not going at all.”

Evelyn wrenched her arm out of Rosalie’s grip.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Jeremy will kill you.” Rosalie sounded desperate, terrified.

Evelyn shook her head and took a step backward.

“I don’t care. I’m not leaving him.” Rosalie’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Go. Call the police. Tell them where we are.”

Rosalie nodded her head.

“Go.”

Without another word, Rosalie turned around and ran from the house.

Evelyn watched her go. Her heart rate spiked when headlights flashed through the front window. All she could do for Rosalie was hope that she found some place to hide until Lions entered the house. If Lions was here, this was it. He was coming for Hotch.

Evelyn ran back to the basement as quietly as she could. She shut the basement door, hearing it lock with a heart wrenching click, just as the front door opened. She hurried down the stairs and dropped to the ground next to Hotch, startling him awake.

“What’s going on?” Hotch asked, still sounding stuck in sleep.

“Lions is here,” Evelyn whispered to him. “Rosalie is gone, she’s calling the police.”

“How-“

“We need a plan and quick,” Evelyn told him.

“We don’t know how long it will take for the police to respond,” Hotch replied quietly, his voice surprisingly calm. This might be his last few moments on earth, and he wasn’t terrified or angry or anxious. He was just calm. “All of his attention will be on me. You can escape then.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“This isn’t a time for heroics.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Before Hotch could argue, Evelyn pushed herself to her feet.

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“Like you said, Lions’ attention will all be on you. He won’t be expecting me.”

“Caro-“

She sunk into the shadows just as the door of the basement opened. Lions trudged down the stairs, grumbling to himself.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward Hotch.

“Where’s the girl?” Lions asked, his voice low and gruff.

Hotch was silent.

“Doesn’t matter,” the unsub grumbled to himself. With his back to her completely, Lions started for Hotch. Evelyn would make sure he never reached him.

She crept out from her shadows, walking toward Lions. The ever present ache in her head from when Lions knocked her out didn’t even stop her. She was silent as she moved until she was right up behind him. In one quick motion, Evelyn kicked the back of his knee, dropping him to the ground before wrapping her arm around his neck.

Lions struggled against Evelyn. He was strong and she was weak from days with little food and water as well as the head injury. But she held on as tight to his neck as she could.

Hotch ran to check the basement door, but Lions had closed it, leaving it locked.

As he did so, Evelyn was so focused on keeping her grip on Lions, that she didn’t see his hand moving toward his pocket. He pulled out a knife and rammed it into her shin. She cried out, falling back and away from Lions.

“Evelyn!”

Hotch turned away from the door and ran back toward her as Lions stumbled away. Evelyn fell back against the support beam, lowering herself to the ground as she pressed her hands against the cut on her leg.

Hotch ran toward Evelyn, but Lions intercepted him. Fire spread throughout Evelyn’s leg, dark blood seeping through her fingers. She clenched her jaw in hopes of easing the pain. Hotch and Lions tumbled, a blur of bodies that Evelyn once again couldn’t distinguish. This scene was all too familiar to her.

Hotch was trained, but he was weak. Lions relied mostly on his size and strength, but lacked any formal training. Evelyn needed to get back into the fight, that was the only way Hotch would win this.

With a groan of effort and a sharp stabbing pain shooting through her leg, Evelyn forced herself to stand. Using the support beam as her support as well, she allowed herself a few moments to breathe through the pain before lurching forward.

Lions had Hotch pinned against the wall, his arm across his chest to keep him there. Evelyn hurtled toward Lions, pushing through the pain in her leg and barreled into him. This knocked him off balance. Being unable to stop herself once she started, she and Lions tumbled over each other until they were both on the ground. Hotch started forward to help Evelyn to her feet, but Lions had an arm around her waist and the knife pressed to her neck before either of them could really react.

“Back off,” Lions said, his voice even more gruff than before. Blood dribbled down from a broken nose and he wheezed, telling Evelyn that Hotch had hit him enough times near the diaphragm to knock the wind out of him.

The cool of the metal knife pressed against Evelyn’s throat didn’t scare her. Especially when she met Hotch’s gaze. That dead calm he always put forward she now felt flow through her veins. Everything was going to be okay, she could see it in his eyes. Evelyn breathed as shallowly as she could, trying to keep her throat from extending too far into the knife.

Lions pushed himself off the ground and brought Evelyn up with him. The knife cut into the first few layers of her throat and Evelyn flinched, feel the cool of her own blood dribble down her neck. Hotch put his hands in the air, trying to show that he meant Lions no harm.

“She’s not a part of this,” Hotch said. “You know that, Lions.”

“She’s a bitch is what she is,” Lions snapped, pressing the knife harder against Evelyn’s neck.

Hotch flinched forward and Evelyn shut her eyes.

“You want me, Lions, not her.” This was the calmness that Evelyn had never understood before. Her negotiation skills had never been good. Hotch said that she was too emotional. She cared too much and it was too easy to read in her voice. But Hotch was too good at pretending not to care at all. “Let her go and I’ll go with you.”

“No, Hotch-“

“Shut up,” Lions seethed in her ear. “You don’t get to talk.”

“Is that how you treat Rosalie, huh?” Evelyn asked, her hands on his arm that held the knife to her throat. “You call her a bitch and tell her shut up?”

“Be quiet!”

Evelyn could feel blood soak into her shirt, weighing it down.

“Lions, look at me,” Hotch said, pulling his attention away from Evelyn. “You can let her go.”

Evelyn felt her wounded leg start to grow numb and her balance shifted. In not too long, she wasn’t sure that she would be able to keep herself standing upright.

The door behind them burst open and Evelyn let out a gasp. Lions flinched and loosened his grip on her just enough that she broke free from him and stumbled forward, right into Hotch.

“Jeremy Lions, drop the knife and put your hands in the air!” Emily Prentiss said, her voice deep and commanding.

Evelyn’s leg gave out, every ounce of weight put on it causing a shooting pain up and down her entire body. Hotch held her up by her arms, her back pressed against his chest. He was the only thing keeping her standing and she could barely even do that.

Lions didn’t turn around, but he put his hands up in the air.

“Rosalie did this,” he said, his voice deadly low.

“Drop the knife, Lions,” Emily said again.

“You turned her against me.” Lions shifted his angered eyes away from Hotch and onto Evelyn. “You did.”

“I don’t want to shoot you, Lions, but I will.”

“You turned her against me!”

Lions took half a step toward them, the knife now facing her. Hotch turned Evelyn away, preparing to step between them, but Emily fired a single shot, the bullet tearing right through Lions’ shoulder. He fell to the ground with a cry of pain, the knife falling out of his grip.

Evelyn, still unable to stand on her own, turned to Hotch, her neck still bleeding.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, noting the bruises on his face.

“Are you guys alright?” Emily asked, her gun trained on Lions.

“We need a medic,” Hotch said. Emily nodded her head, her eyes flickering down the cut in Evelyn’s shin and neck.

Emily relayed the information through her earpiece, as well as saying the offender was down. Evelyn stayed leaned up against Hotch, his hands clinging to her arms to keep her steady, as Emily took Lions away in handcuffs.

Morgan and Reid came running into the basement along with the paramedics.

“Evie,” Morgan stepped toward her and she just smiled.

“We’re okay,” she told him.

“Ma’am,” the paramedic said. “Let’s get you to the ambulance.”

The paramedics stepped forward, one taking hold of Evelyn. The other moved toward Hotch.

“How are you feeling?” the paramedic asked him.

“Can you make it to the ambulance?” the paramedic asked Evelyn, who nodded her head.

“I can carry you,” Morgan said, stepping forward. Evelyn let out a quiet laugh.

“I can manage on my own, Derek,” she told him. Still, he followed her and the paramedic, his hands out just in case she started to fumble.

They helped her up the stairs and she looked back at Hotch, to find that his eyes were still on her. He nodded her head and she smiled at him.

The pain that flared throughout Evelyn’s leg was white hot, but with the paramedic taking most of her weight and Morgan just behind her, Evelyn was able to make it to through the house and to the ambulance without letting a single tear fall from her eye.

Hotch came out of the house a few minutes later, the paramedic still trying to get him to sit for a moment while Reid filled him in on everything they missed in the case.

“I’d like to speak with Rosalie,” Hotch said.

“She’s over here,” Reid said.

Hotch tried not to look over at the ambulance where he knew Evelyn was. He still had a job to do and he couldn’t focus on that if all he could think about was whether or not she was okay. He knew she was okay. She was always okay.

Rosalie sat in the back of one of the cop cars, her eyes closed and silent tears running down her cheeks. Hotch popped open the door, but she didn’t look at him.

“Is he alive?” she asked.

“He’ll survive,” Hotch told her. Rosalie let out a shaky breath and slowly opened her eyes. “Why did you help us?”

“I didn’t help you,” she said, looking away from him and toward the ambulance. “I helped Evelyn.”

Hotch scowled.

“She loves you, you know?”

Her words startled him and Hotch felt ice run through his blood.

“What?”

“She loves you. I gave her food at night but she’d only eat part of it, saved the rest for you. And last night I came to take her somewhere safe before Jeremy came back to kill you, but she refused to leave. I almost had her out of that house, but she ran back in. For you.”

Hotch looked down at his feet. He didn’t really expect anything less of Evelyn Caro. She always put everyone’s lives above her own. He shouldn’t expect her to act any different toward him.

But anger still bubbled up inside of him. She could have gotten herself killed and for what? She should have left him there and ran to get help. She should have….

“You better be damn sure you’re worth it.” Rosalie’s words were venom and Hotch could feel their sting deep in his blood.

Hotch shut the door, leaving Rosalie to her silence and grief. He turned to look at the ambulance, just as Morgan was stepping into the back. The paramedic shut the door, closing Hotch off from Evelyn. The siren started to blare, and the ambulance rolled out of the driveway.

“They’re taking her to the hospital,” Prentiss said, walking over to him. Hotch nodded his head. “Lost too much blood to just let her come back with us.”

“She kept antagonizing him,” Hotch said as he placed his hands on his hips. “If she had just let me go with him-“

“Caro was protecting you, sir,” Prentiss said. He looked at her, scowl deepening. “She knew that as soon as Lions had you, he would kill you. She had to make sure that didn’t happen.”

Hotch watched the ambulance as it drove away, the sirens ringing.

He never got the chance to ask if she was okay.

___

Evelyn lay back in her bed at the hotel, staring at the ceiling. A bandage wrapped around her leg and it itched, making it impossible for her to sleep. There was something else keeping her awake. Her mind reeled, the last few days playing over and over in her head. Trapped in a room with Hotch for days on end was the perfect time to talk to him about all the things that were bothering her, but even then, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t even know where to begin because she didn’t even know what she was feeling anyway.

Sitting up with a huff, Evelyn glowered into the darkness. She threw off her blankets that were making her too hot, lowering herself onto the ground and landing on her good leg. She hobbled over to her discarded clothes and threw them back on.

Air was what she needed. A breath of fresh air. And then she’d be okay. She could go back to pretending that everything was fine and normal, like she always did.

As she pulled a coat onto her shoulders, she opened the door and froze.

Hotch was standing there, wearing a broken down version of his usual suit. His tie and jacket were discarded, his shirt buttoned up sloppily. She wondered if he had ever even gone to bed. And he was standing in front of her door, his hand not even raised to knock. He was just standing there.

He looked at her with wide eyes, shocked to find her there.

“Um, hi,” Evelyn said, dropping her hand from the doorknob.

“I just wanted to check to see how you were doing,” Hotch said.

“Hotch, it’s like three in the morning.”

He looked down at his hands. He was actually fidgeting. Something had made him motivated enough to come here, but nervous enough not to knock.

“I know. I can go-“

“No, wait.” He froze. “I never got to ask if you were okay.”

Hotch nodded his head.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.”

They stood there in silence. Evelyn felt her throat tighten every time she wanted to say something. Hotch wouldn’t look at her. The silence seemed to drag on for eternity before Hotch finally broke it.

“I talked to Rosalie, after everything, and she said something,” Hotch said. Evelyn finally put her eyes on him.

“What…what did she say?”

There were a thousand terrible things that Evelyn could think of that the woman could have possibly said to land her standing in front of her boss at three in the morning.

“She said that you had a chance to leave that house and you came back,” he told her. Evelyn straightened her back. This was going to be a lecture, she could just feel it coming. She just didn’t know why it couldn’t wait until morning. “Why?”

Evelyn scowled and looked at the ground, her hand still on the door.

“Why?” She repeated. “Because I couldn’t leave you there.”

“You should have.”

Evelyn felt her temper begin to rise. What was it with this man?

“A ‘thank you for saving my life’ would suffice,” she said, her tone harsh. “If I hadn’t come back, Lions would have killed you. From where I’m standing, I made the right decision.”

“And got yourself hurt in the process.”

“I’ll survive.” Hotch fell quiet again. “Listen, Aaron, if you’ve come to pick a fight, I think it can wait until morning.”

Evelyn took a step back and started to close the door, but Hotch lifted his hand and stopped it from closing. She looked over at him, jaw tightened, and found him staring back at her.

“I’m not here to pick a fight with you,” he said.

“Then why did you come?”

She could see the question rattling around in his brain, as if he had been asking himself that very same question ever since he left his room.

“I’m sick of this, Aaron,” she said finally, when he didn’t answer. “I’m sick of neither of us being able to say what we really mean. I’m sick of running in circles around each other. Just tell me why you came here.”

“I came to make sure you’re okay.”

“Mission accomplished then. I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She started to close the door again and this time he didn’t stop her.

“Rosalie also said you loved me.”

Evelyn froze, the door almost shut so she couldn’t see his face anymore. Which was good because it meant that he also couldn’t see hers and the fear that was etched into every feature. Her breathing became heavy, like every breath took so much more work. She closed her eyes, and slowly started to open the door again.

“Rosalie said that?” Hotch nodded his head once. “Did you believe her?”

He was quiet for a moment, letting out a long but quiet sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a profiler. Tell me, what do you think?”

He took a while to answer.

“I think you’re a deeply compassionate person who cares for the team. I think you would give your life for any one of us in a heartbeat.” Evelyn looked down at her feet and Hotch tried to follow her eyes with his. “I know that you would never do anything to jeopardize the dynamics of this team because we’ve become your family.”

“Okay.”

“So, I don’t know how much of what you say and do is because the team is your family and how much is because-“

“-I love you.”

The words came from her mouth like any other fact would. She had known it for so long, never said it, not even to herself, but she knew it. And she managed to say it so casually. She was just completing his sentence after all.

Hotch stood still, as if trying to decide whether or not she was finishing what he was saying or confessing. He searched her eyes, but she stayed motionless. It was time he figured things out for himself, she decided. They’d both spent so long trying to figure the other out, it was high time someone just made the first move.

“When you were at Ralph Bennet’s house,” he said finally, “I had these horrible dreams about finding you there already dead. I was too late to save you.”

Evelyn could have sworn there were tears glimmering in his eyes.

“You did though, Aaron. You did save me.”

“But was I too late?” He asked. “Did I wait too long for…everything else?”

“What do you want, Aaron?” Her voice was just at a whisper, her hand still on the door.

It was the last time she would ask. This was the last time and then she’d let it go, let him go. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life, however short that might be, pining after one man.

Hotch surprised her then. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t try to talk. Talking was clearly getting him nowhere. Everything he said somehow came out wrong. Instead, he took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. Putting a hand to her cheek, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

His answer was clear. It took her a few moments to over come her shock, but when she did, she reached out to grab hold of his shirt collar, pulling him in closer.

She pulled him into her room and shut the door, leaving the hallway empty and quiet.

Her room was still dark as he moved her backward, his hands never leaving her. He thought he had lost her. But here she was, with him, and that’s all he needed.

“You,” he whispered against her skin. “Just you.”

Every raging fire that made up Evelyn Caro met the calm seas that built Aaron Hotchner, burning and boiling and soothing in every possible way.

He kissed her lips, her bruised cheek bone, her jaw. His hands rested against the side of her neck, gently though, so as not to irritate her wound. She tugged at his wrinkled shirt, trying to pull him closer.

Hotch knew this was breaking protocol. But he left behind every rule in the book when he left his room two hours ago. Every inch of contact with her made his stomach twist, every time her teeth grazed his lip made his heart pound. For so long he had wanted her and for so long he had pretended otherwise. He was so, so tired of pretending.

He was pulling off her shirt and she didn’t stop him and he didn’t stop himself, but he couldn’t. He just needed all of her.

Evelyn gasped, her intake of breath so sharp that Hotch pulled away. She breathed raggedly, her chest rising and falling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes moving to her neck.

Consumed by her, he had forgotten the shape she was in. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.

“I’m not that fragile,” she told him. There was a smug look on her face, her lips twitched up into a smile.

Hotch leaned forward to kiss that smile, soft and gentle. His hands dropped to her waist and he kissed her again. He intended to pull away, leave her be for the night, but every time he tried, he came back to her like a magnet.

Evelyn had just as hard as a time keeping away from him. His calloused hands were grazing over her sides, her waist, her stomach, her back. Her hands were trembling as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Her heart pounded like a drum beat in her chest, so hard that she could hear it in her ears and it made her hands shake.

She expected him to stop her, to realize what he was doing and take her hands a politely decline, but when the last button came undone, he pulled away from just long enough to take the shirt off himself.

Hotch put his lips back on hers as soon as he could. Evelyn smiled against his kiss.

As if she had burned him, he suddenly stepped away, leaving Evelyn leaning against the wall, heaving for breath. He stared at her, his own breath ragged, his dark eyes smoldering.

“Is something…did I…?”

Shame pooled in Evelyn’s cheeks, making them burn. There she was, completely and utterly exposed, barely able to stand well enough on her own to scurry away.

“You’ve had a very hard year, Evelyn,” he said.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at the ground, locking her jaw.

“Hotch….”

“And I can’t take advantage of-“

“Aaron!” She said with a laugh, forcing him to look at her. “I’m fine. This is fine, more than fine.”

“Is it what you want?” he asked.

She gave a small smile and heaved out a sigh.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said. “Have I ever done anything I haven’t wanted to?”

Lifting a hand, she curled her finger, beckoning for him. He stepped toward her until he was just a breath away.

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” she said to him, just above a whisper.

Evelyn reached up and kissed him again. It took him a few moments to respond, but once he accepted what she said, he leaned into her.

He placed a hand on her chest, right over her heart.

And for once, in a very, very long time, that wound in her soul didn’t feel so gaping.

[jiilys]

would u help me out for a second. im in the mood to write for the first time, and i think your style is beautiful. sitting down n actually trying though, im stuck as fuck! i’m realizing that in your dialogue/scenes you’ve got a lot of Little Things. little tiny elements that are subtle & just enough. how are you deciding that lily is building a house of cards at the moment or sirius is sitting in a tree or whatever during a given scene? how do you come up with those ideas for dialogue that are so silly & real & sneakily tender? do you know where it’s going when you begin? any advice for just… starting something?

ps: i appreciate you. you make it look easy & that’s very very cool

This is a lovely question!! Sorry it took me so long to get to it, I didn’t want to get it wrong. Also I’ve included some examples to try and explain what I mean in practise, but it also comes off rather like plugging. tragically this is unavoidable. Anyway, all that being said I have no idea how to advise you about dialogue and coming up with it, I think just listening to people talk helps. Don’t forget contractions, and when in doubt always trust the reader to keep up, real people don’t say perfect or even grammatically correct sentences a lot of the time. We also cut each other off all the time, especially when we’re trying to be funny. Like, here’s an example from warm front:

“He’s not even two. He probably would have thought it was, like, having a lie down or something.”

Harry was laughing now, “A lie down?”

“Yeah, a spontaneous, truck-induced–“

“–Permanent–“ “

–Permanent, lie-down. I’m almost jealous now actually.”

Another thing, but people say um and like or can't speak or cut themselves off, especially when they’re nervous. James when Lily says she loves him for the first time: ‘“Wow,” He breathed, “I’m– wow.” He put both hands on her cheeks and kissed her crazy, abruptly, dumbly. Her head spun.’ He can’t even speak! Dumb boy.

I think natural dialogue sometimes just requires you to read it aloud, which is very embarrassing but ultimately quite useful in trying to figure out whether something sounds normal or not. Use casual words, and try not to go dictionary hunting: if you cant think of the word chances are your character can’t either

In terms of concepts I have no idea, but I do have a few tips. I write all my short one-shots in one document (its called ‘just bad’ lmao) so its easy to start something, write a few lines, and then if it doesnt work just start a new concept, but still have all the old stuff handy. if you feel like you’ve written yourself into a corner its probably because you took a wrong turn earlier, so its just a matter of going back up and figuring out where you turned onto the dead end, or where a line could be funnier and/or sadder and/or more meaningful. Sometimes the bare bones of a decent line is there but you have to work it a little.

In this harry/ginny thing where harry is apologising for all the attention and ginny brushes him off she says:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

The response went through a few drafts, all variations on the same thing:

(1) “You’re funnier.” [too short, doesn’t make sense, and not really that funny. unholy trinity]

(2) “You make it funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, “It’s not– you make it like that.” [this could work! I have no idea why I cut this, I think I forgot abt it lmao]

(3) “You’re the funniest person I know, Harry said, sincerely, and Ginny felt her heartbeat all through her, “You make it funny.” [jumping from ‘its more funny than annoying’ to getting this sincere out of nowhere is a little much, even for harry who is famously whipped]

I ended up going with this:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

“You’re funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, flustered, “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”

It follows the flow of the conversation and I think the way he says it, ‘you’re funny’ like its obvious, and then being like oh fuck and over-explaining it stumbling a little “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”. You know when you like someone and you say something that gives you away before you can stop yourself? I wanted it to sound like that. Just gotta keep in mind how people behave, we are so stupid a lot of the time, we give ourselves away.

The thing about short stuff i find is implying a lot of history without actually describing a lot of it. I normally do this by having memories come up as almost shards, one second of feeling. You know when you’re in a conversation with someone and they mention someone or a past event, and it rises to the top of your brain, but only for a second? i find sometimes when you’re reading stuff people will try and replay entire memories or events mid-conversation, which is not something you do when you think. You don’t need to replay it beat by beat, you were there! This sounds vague as hell so I’ll try and show you what I mean:

From good crimes: “Petunia is engaged.” Lily’s voice, raw and wrong, “To Vernon. Eliza Hunt told me at the supermarket.” Sudden flashes of Petunia, the only time he’d ever met her, sat in the back of Lily’s twenty-first, pinched and whispering. “Whose Eliza Hunt?” This seems as good a thing to say as any.

pretty on the nose (the phrase ‘sudden flashes’ is pretty so i'll allow it from past me). But see how you don’t need to know how Petunia didnt talk to anyone, how she left early, how she was the odd one out: you don’t need to read all that, you already know because she was sat in the back and because pinched is such a mean verb, spiteful and sharp, you can already imagine how the evening went without me saying so

From my proposal take, after Sirius finds out they’re engaged: Sirius’ grip on his shoulder tightened for one second, still grinning, and James knew what he meant. “I know.” He said, because only Sirius had been there for all of it, when they were fifteen, drunk on Firewhiskey for the first time and James had said I think I’ve fucked it, I think I’ve fucked it but I like her for real.

you don’t need a description of the whole night, what party they were at, who they were with, what they were talking about: the important bit is that Sirius was the first person he told, and that they’re both remembering that at the same moment because they’re soulmates lmao. You know when something big happens for a friend and you feel so full of pride & love that you feel like you’ll burst into confetti?? this needed to feel like that, and you only need a flash for it

I feel like I’ve sort of strayed off from what you asked me, which is really advice on how to start something. I normally start with a line, usually of dialogue, and then try and build from there because dialogue is my thing. You might have a different thing! Some people write from concepts or locations, or an image. i might start with one or a few lines of dialogue, write them down, and then try to build from there. For example for the proposal thing I started from james just saying “Marry me”, which I find more romantic than ‘will you marry me’, purely because it sounds like he simply couldn’t stop himself from saying it, like it rushed out. Another example, this thing started from just “don’t be mad at me” “okay” James agreed instantly, because he is such a sucker for her.

When I write I don’t normally know where I’m going! I normally set out to write something I think is vaguely funny and evokes An Emotion, and then I just play around with stuff until I get there. when I write certain stuff and I have scenes in mind, stuff I want to happen, but I find that if I try to plot it to tightly its not exciting to work on, because sometimes you write a good line by accident, that you hadn’t thought of when you sat down, and you surprise yourself. That is a really nice feeling! i want to maximise that feeling.

'What I mostly try to remember is that writing something down, anything down, is useful. Sometimes you write for a whole night and dont get anything useable, but its like clearing pipes. Sometimes you have to flush through shit to get to the good bits. All the rough stuff, the things you don’t like or didn’t work, you wrote to get you to the stuff that did work. All of the bad shit got you here! It wasn’t a waste, you were working to find the good thing

If I had any tips its just the usual stuff, read! It is annoying how much that helps. Also, and I know this may make you shudder, but reading poetry is useful just because in no other literary or media form is language so important. In comics you have pictures, in novels you have plot and character, in film you all that and cinematography, but in poetry you live and die by how good the words are. If you want recs here’s my poem roundup tag, that I do sometimes, or if you want something just now read this by Anne Carson, which uses words like ‘smashing’, ‘boatwash’, and ‘green’ in the best way possible. Also it has these lines: “Recently having learned to recognize the type of tree called sycamore, / I see them in any forest— / the ones that look harrowed, / in shreds, but / go also / straight up into life,”

I mean, think of a sharper image than that?? It’s not possible. Just try remember to stay true to your characters and that in real life, the little stuff is the big stuff. Little things the people around you do normally show they care more than big speeches, and if you want to show love that’s how to make it feel lived in. You want to build a world! the little stuff is usually the world. Take some from your own or dream the ones you wish you had.

This truly was a very kind message and I’m so grateful you like my stuff, I hope any of this was even half-useful, although now reading it back it is borderline nonsensical. I’m going to bed now, good luck with the writing, and don’t forget to send it to me!!

caro xoxo

[oc-rp-ads]

<3

─ hello ! ♡ my name is belladonna. i use she/her pronouns and i am 19. i am studying in college, so replies will be as often as i can make them come out, since they will be long and detailed. i thought i’d make this post since it is much longer and covers more of what i wanted to post! so here it goes! i am looking for a very literature or novella type roleplay partner, who would like to flesh out a very long term roleplay! i would prefer tumblr roleplays, but if you’d prefer a different media to use, please let me know! 

─ i am really looking for an original fandomless roleplay. i double only as i find doubling very fun, and i don’t like one sided roleplays as i lose interest in them very quickly. these are the plots i really enjoy ! ( for my side, i would like either wlw or mlw, i have not decided yet ! ) i do also like integrating dark themes into some roleplays ! like violence/gore/jealousy. we of course do not have to do any of those if you do not wish! it is all up to you and your comfort! 

─ i LOVE talking about ocs with people, and being able to headcanon and talk through the creation process of ocs with people! please be willing to do this with me if you’d like to roleplay with me, the more i get invested in this roleplay the better it will be trust me hehe /hj

─ i will only double up when it comes to roleplaying, i will not budge on this sorry ! i will sometimes be a bit late ( or a lot late ) to replies because i tend to be ill and or busy with school :( in short, i will be playing my oc and your love interest and you will play your oc and my love interest ! 

─ i also love putting my oc ( or mc ) with a villianous love interest so let me know if thats not exactly your style ! 

→ victorian plot ( period drama )

→ historical plots 

→ royal/kingdom plots

→ vampires !!! ( i love this one, will 10000% be always down to roleplay vampire plots )

→ medieval fantasy 

→ steampunk 

and more! these can be mixed and matched, and you can give me ideas and we can always swap ideas as well! 

important! for nsfw!

under no circumstances will minor characters be involved in any and all nsfw roleplays. while i absolutely enjoy spicy scenes in roleplays and i will put my all into keeping them descriptive and fun to read, i will not purely roleplay nsfw. i want to incorporate lots of drama and plot, and the nsfw scenes make sense for the characters and their relationship.

─ what i require in a roleplay partner

being flexible with my reply time, it may take me a few days or a week, if you don’t like waiting please don’t reach out

quality over quantity. i would prefer a really engaging smaller paragraph than something that feels long and drawn out!

i tend to write a lot maybe even 2000-3000 words per reply, i love LOVE writing out long replies, but again don’t feel the need to match my word length if you can not. 

you need to be 18+ to reply any and all adult themes with me, i will not roleplay those themes with minors. 

you will plot and talk with me !! i would love to make friends and chat throughout the plotting process (which im hoping will be very thorough!) 

you like aesthetics ! i love using images, symbols and lowercase aesthetic in my replies. please let me know if you’d like proper grammar. 

─ fandoms that i also roleplay!

elder scrolls v: skryim

soul calibur 

resident evil (all games & media )

star wars (all media, movies, and shows)

devil may cry (just 5 at the moment)

─ contact!

please feel free to message me on tumblr, also let me know of your time zone/age/name/pronouns when we communicate! here is my blog page. i will get back to you as soon as i can, i do find it hard to reply very quickly but i hope you will be patient with me. thank you for reading this..terribly long post, but i hope i piqued your interest. have an amazing day/night/evening!!

with love, belladonna.

[fullbusterfantasmic]

Juvia’s unfortunate discovery

Chapter 2: Descent into Madness

Rated M (Implied Intercourse but not descript)

To prevent any possible confusion; I don’t think I ever mentioned that in a lot of my stories Gray has a hard time saying “I love you”. This is because he believes that everyone he tells it to will inevitably end up dead. For good reason, since all of the people he has lost throughout his life are those he’s expressed his love to or for at some point. So that is what “his curse” is referring to.

So sorry for the delay!

I love you

I never want anyone other than you

I will never let you go

He said it! He’d finally put his fears behind him and told her how he felt. Gray looks down at the women in his arms as she stares up at him. The disbelief evident on her face as she thinks; Surely I misheard him. “What was that first thing you’d said babe?” Think I may have misheard you” she has to ask just to make sure.

Taking her face in his hands, he moves in so close their noses are touching before repeating himself. “I.LOVE.you __________, I LOVE YOU! Only you” the pride in his accomplishment is evident in his voice. Her eyes filled with tears as she tries to get over the initial shock of his statement. “C’mon let’s do this in a more appropriate place” he stands up carrying her into his bedroom. Dropping her onto the bed before climbing over her. “Now where were we?” he asks with his signature smirk in place.

“I love you Gray”

The words don’t have him reeling with anxiety, her eyes arent wide with fright, and she isn’t covering her mouth in horror. This time around is completely different than the first time it had accidentally been said. “say it again” he whispers against her lips. “I love you GRAAAY” she exclaims with emphasis put on his name as he slides into her without warning.

“Now that’s what I like to hear”

Waking up that next morning; A mutual decision is made that today is just for them, so they shut the world out. Neither one of them aware of the storm that was brewing behind the tightly drawn curtains.

I love you _________

She can’t stop hearing it.

I never want anyone other than you

Please no....

I’ll never leave you

Make it stop!

Juvia’s hands fist her hair, yanking on the blue strands. “Gray-Sama, you didn’t mean it...I know you didn’t...you just told her what she wanted to hear that’s all! Juvia forgives you” she whispers holding the doll close, caressing it softly. “Juvia knows that your just sewing your wild oats like old people say...you’ll throw her away, just like you did with all the other nameless sluts you took home throughout the years”.

So many females she’d seen leaving his house at ungodly hours of the night or early morning. Not one over the last year though...Juvia Was excited she thought he was finally ready to settle down.

“He is, just not with you” the voice is audible it’s not just in her head, it can’t be!

“SHUT UPPP! Gray -Sama belongs to Juvia!” the manic woman let’s out a miserable wail. The images she sees in her mind have also been infected by that bitch now! Plagued by images of; Gray & ___________

Laying in bed together

Fighting together

Laughing together

Getting married

Preparing to have a child

Bile rises in the back of her throat “God please no...anything but that....Even when he does return to me what if.....” she shudders, rapidly beginning to play out the nightmareish scenario in her minds eye.

~Dreamscape Begins~

Envisioning a happy home with her beloved.

The two of them; Snuggled up, together on the couch, chatting happily. Suddenly a knock on the door interrupts their conversation. “I’ll get it droplet, be right back” Gray says, kissing her forehead before leaving the room.

5 minutes pass... 10 minutes pass...and he still hasn’t returned to the couch. What could possibly be taking him so long?

Peering out of a peep hole on the front door she strained her ears to listen.

“-it’s yours”

“Look, Im with Juvia now; we’re happy just leave me alone”

“I just thought you should know, at least to give you the option of being with us…as a family”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget I even came down here, bye”

“Wait! That’s my kid too, you can’t do this-“

A child....a permanent reminder of…

“I love you _______”

“Juvia won’t let that happen” the expression on her face displays all the lunacy she hid within.

“I’ll make it stop and then everything will go back to how it was, just us two”.

~Across Town~

“Mmmm baby, I love it when you wake me up like this” Gray groans out, voice still laden with sleep. You can see that she moving as she continues sucking him for all he’s worth. “Want to see you though” he mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while lifting the sheet up. The twisted smile he sees causes him to yelp and immediately jump backwards, “JUVIA?! WHAT THE-!”

She giggles, “Juvia loves the way you taste Gray-Sama”.

“How’d you get in here?! Where is ________?” He begins to panic upon seeing the empty space beside him. “Don’t worry about that now let Juvia finish pleasuring her beloved”.

“NO!” Gray shouts, anxiety reaching a breaking point as he hops out of bed. “Get out Juvia! Get the F-“ he stops short at the feel of something wet and warm beneath his feet. Looking down he can’t help but scream, “BABE?!”.

Her eyes stare back; Blank, unseeing, her skin is cold to the touch. “No...no..not again! I shouldn’t have said it! I knew better goddamnit!”. The curse, his curse, it’s taken yet another person he said those words to. His parents, Ur, now __________ too. Something snapped inside of his head as he cried out in agony.

~Dreamscape end~

Sitting up drenched in sweat the raven haired man looked wildly around the room. His hand began groping the mattress beside him, she wasn’t there. “__________? BABE WHERE ARE YOU?!” he called out, voice loud and terrified. Frantic footsteps came rushing down the hall immediately, she runs into the room hurrying to his side. “What is it?? what’s wrong?!” she touches his face worriedly “Gray?”.

He yanks her onto the bed squeezing her tightly “Thank God” he whispers. “I thought, oh God baby I-“ his body begins to tremble and she hugs him. “I’m here, I’m OK, it wasn’t real” she repeated this like a mantra until he relaxed against the pillows, pulling her with him. “Please say it” he asks. “I love you Gray, I’m never going to leave you” her voice is soft but the conviction is firm. “This is real, that wasn’t” he repeats while caressing every inch of her body, gently kissing her lips. “Make love to me Gray” her voice startles him.

“W-What?”

“Make love to me, focus on me and nothing else, then you’ll know it’s real”.

It was easy for them to get lost in each other and shut the world out once more. They’d had no idea what an ugly day it’d been, how a slight drizzle became a deluge, a down pour. Pleasured cries and whispers of sweet nothings, drowned out by the howling wind. The lovers lay together; Stated and spent staring into each others eyes as they hold one another close.

“I love you, I never want to be with anyone but you, forever”

Juvia won’t let that happen.

Juvia will make her pay.

[scxrlettwxtches]

love me, love me not | bang chan 

genre: angst, humor, fluff, college!au, female!reader

warnings: slight swearing, not edited ahhh

prompt: argument leading kissing

description: when chan rejected you, you never expected that it would become the catalyst for your love story, rather than the end of it. but, life and a few welcome matchmakers have a way of playing with fate.

word count: ~6.5k+

a/n: hi, anon! im so so sorry for the wait. i totally had a writer’s block while writing this, and im super sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted...i tweaked the prompt ever so slightly, but i hope you still like it! >.< it’s also wayyy longer than i’d predicted haha oops. as always, my ask box is open if anyone wants to be friends! love you all! <3

It took a total of three days and five hours for Chan to realize he might've fucked up. 

When the thought first appeared in his head, he dismissed it out of indignation. How could it have been his fault?! He didn't know you were going to confess. He didn't know he was hurting you by jumping around from girl to girl. 

"You... you're what?" Chan stuttered, his pace faltering to a stop as he tried to process your words. 

"I'm in love with you," you repeated, stopping in your tracks as you turned to face him, your hands gripping the straps of your backpack tightly. 

"I have been for years," you said plainly, looking into his eyes with a simple gaze. 

Chan stammered, and for the first time, his mouth worked before his brain and he blurted out the stupidest response he could've conjured up, "I already have a date tonight." 

You flinched as if he’d slapped you hard across the face, showing visible hurt at his careless words. You were always the collected one, always the person that could flash a smile even in the most uncomfortable circumstances. It felt weird, uncomfortable even to see you waver. 

When you replied to him, you had already recovered, your face passive and your voice steady, "I know. I helped you set it up, dipshit," you said with a dry smile. 

"Then, why would you say this now?" Chan felt churlishly ungrateful. How dare you tell him now? Right when he finally scored that girl he'd been secretly pining after for days. It had taken so much effort, and you'd know because it was only through your shared internship with her that this date even became possible. 

Oh, he was being so callous, so insensitive. And yet, you showed nothing more than a flash of hurt in your eyes, a sign he had clearly missed while he was too busy worrying about himself. 

“Because you asked me if I liked anyone, and I didn’t have any reason to lie to you,” you shrugged indifferently before checking your watch, “Oh, you’re going to be late. I’ll walk the rest of the way by myself.”

And without waiting for another response from him, you turned on your heels and walked down your street without the one companion you’ve had all your life. It was lonelier than you thought it would be.

Ever since that day, Chan’s relationship with you had irrevocably changed. He still saw you every day, still walked you to your classes and spent his lunch period with you at the nearby cafe, but a large chasm had opened in your relationship, a divide of unspeakable topics after you’d so bluntly confessed to him and unknowingly sent him into an existential crisis. 

“How was the date?”

Speaking of the devil, Chan choked on his chocolate milkshake as you interrupted his thoughts, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" he wheezed, hitting his chest to catch his breath. 

You gave him a strange look, clearly sensing his discomfort, but making no moves to resolve the situation as you looked back down at your notes. 

“I asked how the date was,” you repeated, scribbling as you jotted down some of the main points from your textbook, “Didn’t you have one? Two days ago?”

“O-oh, right,” Chan nodded, clearing his throat deliberately, “Yeah, it was good, I guess.”

Truthfully, Chan did not remember the date very well. What was her name? Miyeon? Mina? Fuck, was he suffering from early memory loss already? She was quite pretty; he remembered how she looked very vaguely, dressed in a prim and proper manner and carrying herself with grace. 

And yet, the one thing that Chan clearly did remember was that he felt nothing. 

There was no spark. No instant realization that the girl before him was the one. No dramatic eye contact or k-drama OST to make up for awkward silences. 

All in all, it seemed like it was another fail.

You sensed his dejected mood as always, and nudged his still hand on the table, “Hey, it’s alright. Not all dates are supposed to go well. You’re bound to have a few misses.” 

“That’s the thing! It hasn’t been just a few misses! It’s been all misses!” Chan bemoaned as he let his head slump onto the table, and he couldn’t ignore the wry smile that crossed your face.

“You just haven’t found the right person yet, and that’s okay,” you chuckled, petting his soft hair. Chan let out an appreciative hum, his eyes automatically closing at the soothing sensation. Your hands felt nice, your pets were always comforting. It would be even better if you’d run your hands through his hair while he--

Wait, what?

Chan shook his head quickly, messing up his soft hair and causing you to pull away, much to his disappointment. What was that? His brain was traveling a mile a minute and the image that flashed in his head--his head on your lap, peaceful and domestic as you pressed kisses to his face while you carded your fingers through his hair--

“Oh, by the way. I’m going on a date tomorrow.”

It was like his dream shattered before his very eyes as you glanced at your nails, the scratching off another fleck of your black nail polish. Chan was genuinely caught off guard by the weird, sickly emotion in his gut as the words you uttered finally processed through his thick brain.

“W-what?” Chan failed to hide the surprise, but he somehow managed to hide the faint sense of disappointment. He shouldn't feel that, right? Friends should always support one another! Friends should always want them to be happy and find someone, right?

He didn't exactly feel those two things at the moment, and the guilt only added to the sickly feeling. 

"Who?" Chan asked, trying not to sound bitter. 

If you heard the unusual emotion in his voice--which you probably did--you didn't comment on it, "It's the school dance captain, Minho? He asked me out yesterday." 

An image of the unfairly handsome, sharp-eyed, dashing dance captain, Lee Minho, appeared in Chan's head. He was the perfect man, of course. Literally Adonis of the modern age. Chan didn’t even know that you and him were friends, much less close enough to schedule dates.

“How do you know him? You’re not exactly the cream of the crop when it comes to dance, or anything physical for that matter--ow!”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled your hand back, watching as he rubbed his forehead dramatically, “We have computer science together, asshole. And he’s a good friend of Jisung.”

“Everyone’s a good friend of Jisung’s,” Chan muttered under his breath, still reeling from your harsh attack, “Why does it have to be Minho?”

He hadn’t planned on you catching his latter question, but seeing the raise of your eyebrow and the immediate change in expression to something slightly more guarded, you asked, “Oh? And what’s wrong with Minho?”

Chan stiffened at the defensive question, feeling his blood grow hot. Of course there wasn’t anything wrong with Minho. He was surprisingly warm-hearted, smart, funny, and a phenomenal dancer. There was nothing wrong with him, and yet, Chan felt a red hot jealousy and anger bubble out of his lips as he blurted out:

“I just don’t want you going with him.”

Oh, that came out wrong. That came out so very wrong.

“And who are you to tell me what to do, Christopher Bang?” your voice was cold and closed off, using his full name as you only did when you were furious. 

Chan flinched at your tone, feeling more hurt than he thought he would. But, at the same time, he bristled in frustration. You didn’t understand what he was feeling. (He didn’t understand it either.)

“He’s not good for you, Y/N,” he lied, avoiding your piercing gaze as you scoffed.

“Oh?” you sounded rightfully furious, absolutely fed up with the constant back and forth and utter indecisiveness that was Bang Christopher Chan, “And who exactly do you think is good for me? You?”

It was scathing, meant to hurt, and hurt it did. Chan recoiled at your burning words, “That’s not what I meant!” He snapped defensively, his temper rising unusually as your argument began to draw the attention of other customers in the cafe.

Your hands shook as you clenched them into little fists, “Then what did you mean, huh?” You asked softly, eyes lowered to the table.

Chan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out as he struggled to dictate exactly what he was feeling. What even was this? This burning pain in his heart at the thought of you with another, this fear in his mind that he will no longer be your first priority? 

You took his silence as acceptance, and you scoffed, trying to ignore the prickly feeling behind your eyes, “I see,” you spoke with an air of finality, and before Chan could speak, you pushed out of your seat, beginning to walk away.

“W-wait!” Chan’s motion was frantic and unthought of as he grabbed the edge of your soft cardigan.

“Channie, it’s fine,” you said simply as you refused to face him, and he was unable to see your expression. Your voice gave nothing away, perfectly neutral and closed off.

“This isn’t goodbye or anything, dipshit,” you continued, standing still as you spoke, “I just have something I have to do. Text me when you need me.”

With that, you yanked your arm away, and the fabric of your sweater slipped through his fingers. Chan was frozen in his position, half ready to stand up and half still sitting. It wasn’t a goodbye, he told himself. You said it yourself. It wasn’t a goodbye.

But why did it feel so much like one?

.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Chan looked away from the window, his eyes wide and startled as the woman in front of him gave him a merciful smile as she rested her head on her hand, watching him inquisitively.

“So you are,” she confirmed, absently twirling the pasta around her fork as she continued to study him. 

Chan felt his face flush with shame and guilt. It had been almost a whole day since your fight with him, and--unable to study because of it--he decided to drown his sorrow the only way he knew how: by setting up another date. He called the girl he went out with two days ago, Mina, and to his utmost surprise, she agreed to a second date.

But now, Chan was sure that the chance of a third was completely out the window, especially since he was spending much of this date daydreaming.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stuttered out an apology, and truthfully, he was ashamed that his mind wouldn’t stay in one place no matter how much he willed it to, “I’ve just been really busy with work, a-and it’s been weighing down on me.”

Mina smiled at that, a gentle, knowing smile that send to pierce through all of Chan’s clumsy excuses, “I see. So it wasn’t about anyone in particular?”

Chan felt his heart jump in panic. This was probably one of the most mortifying moments in his life, “I don’t believe so?” He said in a questioning tone as he stabbed at his ravioli, playing with it more than he was actually eating.

Even as he lied, his thoughts travelled to another date that was supposed to be happening right as this time. He’d heard through the grapevines that you were going to a cute dinner date with Minho on the other side of town. The two of you haven’t spoken at all since the fallout, which was very uncommon. Not a single text, call, or meeting was exchanged. 

Chan wanted to tear his hair out from the frustration. How was it? Were you having fun on your date? Was Minho treating you well? Of course, he would; that was a stupid question. Minho was always known to treat his dates well, even if they didn’t turn into anything long term. He was just kind like that, and--at this moment--he was definitely doing a much better job making you happy than Chan was.

“Hm,” the girl mused carefully, twirling her fork a couple more times before asking innocently, “Are you sure you’re not thinking about your friend, Y/N?”

Jackpot. Chan’s eyes grew comically wide as he choked in his fancy ravioli dish, his face turning red as he quickly tried to drown his throat with water so he didn’t die from asphyxiation, “Y/N?” he stammered, and the image of you from the last time you spoke with him--your face of hurt and betrayal as he snapped at you for no reason at all--flashed in his brain, making him feel yet another coil of burning hot guilt.

Mina nodded serenely, eating as she watched you carefully, “So, I was right?” She asked knowingly, and Chan wondered how long it’s been she’d figured it out.

Nevertheless, he winced and dipped his head respectfully, “I am very sorry,” he said solemnly, and he truly was sorry, “I just...we had a falling out yesterday, and I’m just worried that I might’ve accidentally lost a friend.”

“Oh? Was it that bad of a falling out?” Mina asked, and Chan was almost dumbfounded by how casual his date was at the notion of him thinking about another person during their dinner.

But at the same time, he’d been aching for someone to confide in, aching to sort out the jumbled mess inside his heart, “It was bad,” he admitted, “She was trying to tell me that she got a date, and instead of being happy for her, I sort of blew up in her face.”

“Oh. So it’s bad.” 

The blatant honesty was enough to make Chan put his head in his hands, “Yeah, it was bad. Looking back, I’m surprised she didn’t get even more angry at me.”

Mina let out a soft chuckle at his self deprecating words, which made Chan felt just slightly better, “Why did you get so angry?”

Chan blinked, looking up at the question, “H-huh?” If anything, he’d expected Mina to get angry, not for her to start questioning him like a lawyer.

“I mean,” Mina continued, shrugging as she sipped at her champagne, “is Minho a bad person?”

“Not at all. He’s a great guy,” Chan said, almost immediately getting defensive. Minho was a great guy, and he deserved someone wonderful by his side. Someone like you.

“Do you think he and Y/N won’t get along?” 

“No!” Chan huffed, growing frustrated by the interrogation but also understanding that he was the one at fault here for ruining a perfectly nice date.

“Then why did you get angry?”

Chan opened his mouth to speak, but as obvious as the reason seemed to be just then, he couldn’t actually pinpoint a direct reason. Why was he so angry? Why was he angry at the prospect of you being happy? Was it because he was just a bad person? 

Or, was it because you were going to be happy with someone other than him?

Mina smiled slyly as she watched the poor, unknowingly besotted boy come to one of the most important revelations of his college life, “Well?” She asked, tilting her head expectantly.

Chan swallowed, and his palms felt unnaturally sweaty, as if he were about to perform with his friends on stage. The very thought of it scared him a little, not because it was so undesirable of an outcome, but because of the growing guilt that he didn’t realize it before, and the prospect of fulling understanding how much pain his obliviousness might have caused you.

“I was angry because I wanted it to be me,” he whispered, softly enough that he hoped Mina wouldn’t hear it, but from her smile, she definitely did. 

“You wanted to be Minho?” she clarified, almost relishing in the way she was forcing Chan to cough up the buried feelings hidden so deep inside his heart that even he himself wasn’t aware of them.

Chan nodded, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from under him again, but this time, it was a light, airy feeling rather than a terrifying plummet.

There was a moment of silence before Mina suddenly began to giggle, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Chan looked up, flustered by her actions as he felt his face burn. He was still a little nervous that he’d insulted her by basically confessing to be in love with another person on their date. 

“Oh, you’re actually adorable,” Mina smiled, wiping at the corners of her eyes before she took a deep breath, “Do you know, the first time we went on a date, a couple days ago, I actually thought you were cheating on Y/N.”

“W-what?” Chan sputtered, his cheeks growing bright red at the very thought, “Why?”

“Well, I’ve seen the two of you around, and your relationship is almost a known secret around campus,” Mina explained, “Especially once when I saw the two of you at a cafe studying together, and the way you were looking at her...it made even my heart flutter just watching you stare at her. I doubt you were even listening to what she was saying.”

Chan thought back to your study sessions, thought back to every time he’d have you explain a difficult equation or problem. Bizarrely, he didn’t remember a single concept at all, but he did remember everything about you as you were speaking. The way a single strand of hair traced your face and you always had to brush it behind your ear. The way you’d pout if the question stumped you, too. The way you’d sometimes get lost in your own explanation and start talking about a topic so high level that Chan had been lost for minutes already, but he couldn’t bear to stop you because you looked so adorable. 

Oh, shit.

“Then,” Chan swallowed nervously, “you agreed to go on that date with me because you thought I was cheating on her?”

“Well, first off, she helped put us together, which diminished the possibility of that being true,” Mina shrugged, continuing to eat, “Also, if it was true, then I’d be able to catch you right in the act and tell her directly.”

Chan felt a little ashamed and unfairly blamed. Of course he wouldn’t cheat on you! He’d never cheat on anyone, much less you of all people. The very notion of hurting you in such a way was practically unbearable. 

“But, as we talked that night,” the girl continued nonchalantly, “it became clear to me that the two of you weren’t together, but you also were totally oblivious to how in love with her you are.” 

The back of Chan’s throat was completely dry at this point, despite the copious amount of water he’d been chugging throughout this date, “I-I’m not in love with her,” he stammered defensively, “We’ve been best friends for years!”

Mina leveled him an unamused glare, “Oh? You’re not in love with her, but you feel pain at the notion of her being with someone else. You’re not in love with her, but you can only remember every good thing about her. You’re not in love with her, but you look at her as if she’s your whole sun, moon and earth combined.”

Chan felt cornered, his eyes wide at the revelation as he choked out, “B-but if I love her, t-then all this time--haven’t I been hurting her over and over?” 

“How so?”

“S-she confessed earlier this week--b-but I didn’t know!” Chan said helplessly, beginning to panic. If this was all true--and slowly, his mind was beginning to process that it very well could be--then he’s caused you unimaginable pain for no good reason. Then he’d rejected you in the most brutal, uncaring way possible. 

Mina sighed, rubbing her eyes, “Oh, dear god. You’re actually an idiot. What are you doing here? Go apologize! Don’t turn up empty handed. And don’t expect anything from her. Just ask her sincerely for her forgiveness.”

Chan nodded, already scrambling out of his seat and fumbling as he placed a few big bills on the table, “I’m so so sorry about this,” the apologies spilled out as he bowed respectfully towards Mina, “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”

“Just don’t be an idiot and try to date the entire student population when the one for you is right beside you,” she retorted dryly, smiling at him, “And good luck.”

Chan ran faster than he ever had before. He ran faster than when his high school class had made him the final runner in the school relay. He ran faster than when he was late to his first job offer in his second year of college. None of those things felt nearly as important as this: the notion of losing you for good.

He rushed to the flower shop that you always spared forlorn glances at, but never spent money on. Apologizing profusely for barging in right before closing time, he bought a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, a collection of roses, lilies, and orchids. 

Oh gosh, what if you weren’t home? What if you didn’t come home for the night, but rather stayed with Minho? The very thought caused his stomach to turn. 

By the time he made it to your house, his lungs were burning and gasping for air as he rushed to your door. His heart plummeted as he glanced through the window and saw that none of the lights were on, but nevertheless, he pressed your doorbell urgently.

Of course, there was the possibility of saying sorry tomorrow, or saying sorry the day after, but for Chan, they didn't seem like options at all. He had to tell you now, beg for your forgiveness now. If not, he had a feeling that everything between the two of you would be unsalvageable.

No, no, no! You weren't home. Chan peeked into the window again, but the inside was pitch black. You should've been done with your date by now. You should be home, but you weren't. Chan’s heart was racing with fear as he fumbled for his phone. What if calling you made it worse? Oh god, what should he even do?

He just couldn't lose you. Not as a friend, not as a soulmate. He didn't care if he lost his chance with you, he needed you by his side. He needed to see you, he had to fix things—

“Channie?”

Whirling around, his heart seemed to falter as he saw you standing on the street, looking at him with a confused expression. With the dim street light behind you, Chan swore at that moment, you looked like an angel. You were so pretty, dressed up for your date with your hair half up. He swallowed his pride, his guilt, his fear, and he walked towards you clutching the bouquet in his hands. 

.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” 

Your eyes widened a fraction as you glanced to the side, where Minho was currently walking with you around the pier. His jacket was draped over your frame, even though the night was only slightly breezy, and you relished its weight on your shoulders. 

Still, your expression dropped at his question, “I don’t want to talk about him today, Minho.”

“Why not?” He asked, looking around at the sun slowly setting behind the vast ocean as the sky was colored with vibrant reds, purples, and blues.

“Because we’re not exactly on good terms right now,” you muttered, looking down, “Also, isn’t this supposed to be our date? How are you so comfortable with the idea that I’m thinking about someone else?”

Minho laughed, turning to gaze at you fondly, “Well, I can’t exactly change the way you think, can I?” he smiled, ruffling your hair and making you complain with a loud whine, “So the best I can do is to help you get through it.”

You fought the smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and you gently squeezed Minho’s hand, feeling touched, “Thanks.”

“Whatever, dork,” Minho rolled his eyes, “So what happened? Did that idiot say something stupid again?”

“Sort of.”

“Y/N, you are being really unhelpful,” he frowned at your vague answers. 

“It was just confusing,” you finally confessed. You’d barely gotten a wink of sleep that night, Chan’s words, his outburst of anger, replaying in your head like a broken record. Why was he so angry? Hadn’t he told you flat out that he had absolutely no feelings for you, crushing your dim light of hope so completely that you’d secretly sobbed your eyes out after walking home?

“Well, if it was confusing for you, I’m sure Chan was just as confused with himself,” Minho chuckled dryly, “What did he say?”

“He...was visibly upset. About this,” you gestured to you and Minho in a helpless manner, almost begging for some sort of clarification. 

“Ah, this. You mean us two?” Minho asked, stopping at an empty bench along the pier and deciding to sit down. After all, the two of you had been walking for the latter half of the hour, trying to digest the delicious lunch he’d treated you to.

“Yeah, said something about not liking me being with you, or whatever bullshit he was spitting that day,” you muttered, feeling your blood grow hot just thinking about it. 

“Wait, he said that? Chan?” Minho fought the urge to laugh as he tried to make sure he was picturing the scenario correctly. His plan was going better than he’d expected, and Chan had fallen into it without even being slightly aware of it.

You nodded, kicking your feet back and forth as you rolled your eyes, “It was ridiculously uncalled for. You didn’t do anything that warranted that sort of reaction.”

“I can be a bit of a sleeze when I try to be,” Minho pointed out, chuckling when you lightly punched his arm, “So, he said I wasn’t good for you. What’s the big deal? He’s probably just being protective, right?”

“He’s always protective, this was different,” you shook your head. Chan was always the self-sacrificing, putting other people before himself type. He was inherently protective of you just by the virtue of being your friend, whether that meant walking you home every night or trying to make sure that you didn’t forget to eat meals. But that, the anger and almost fear that you felt from him, it felt too raw to just be his protective instinct. 

“How so?”

You hesitated before elaborating, “Well, it felt almost like...he was jealous, but that’s ridiculous.”

Minho had to contain the almost giddy laughter that threatened to bubble out from his chest. You two were so oblivious, he felt like a conniving witch trying to put the two of you together. And boy, was he enjoying it.

“Why would it be ridiculous?” he asked innocently.

You leveled a glance at him, immediately sensing something strange about his tone, but not quite being able to identify it, “Of course it’s ridiculous. He rejected me earlier this week.”

“Wait. What the fuck?” Minho snapped, sitting upright immediately, almost like a cat that heard something dangerous nearby, “He rejected you? Outright?”

“Is there something called a lowkey rejection?” You laughed bitterly, “Yes, he full on rejected me. I told him I loved him and he just said he had a date that night.”

Suddenly, this game was significantly less fun. Minho wanted to jab his own eyes out in frustration before going to jab Chan’s eyes out for being so fucking stupid. You confessed, you literally told him outright that you loved him, and he was still stupid enough not to realize his own feelings?! What was it going to take? A good ol’ bonk to the head?

“Okay, Y/N. I’m going to drive you home right now,” he said seriously, and you turned to him, almost alarmed by how urgent his tone sounded. 

“Um, why? Did something happen?” You asked, glancing at him in concern.

Minho shook his head, “Nothing, it’s just Chan being a fucking idiot and screwing everything up again.”

Your eyes narrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“Chan loves you,”  Minho said, plain and simple, sending your head spinning as you tried to process the three simple words.

In the end, all you could do was laugh, a harsh, bitter sound as you rolled your eyes, “Very funny, Minho. Unfortunately, it’s not a very well thought out prank. He already told me otherwise.”

“He doesn’t even know it, goddamnit!” Minho spit out and you jumped at his aggressiveness, “Look, Y/N. I know this sounds crazy, and I know why you’d probably think I’m just being mean. But it’s true. I know it is. Chan loves you.”

Feeling unfairly placed on the spot, you lashed out at him, a sneer across your face as you retorted, “Oh? How are you so sure, huh? If he loves me oh so much, why is he going on a date with another girl for the twentieth time?”

“Because he’s a fucking idiot, okay?!” Minho groaned, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, he’s probably beside himself with guilt right now, and I bet you he’s finally come to the realization himself.”

You scoffed bitterly, “That’s a bit late, don’t you think?”

“It is,” Minho agreed, wanting nothing more than to smack Chan’s forehead for being such an idiot.  He glanced at you, his expression growing softer as he asked, “But you still love him, don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t, right?” Your voice was shaky as you laughed, feeling the green monster of envy and jealousy coil in your gut as you thought about all the times Chan had unknowingly broken your heart, and all you could do was cheer him on. 

“It’s stupid, idiotic, unreasonable,” you continued, kicking your heels against the pavement as you glared at the ground so hard that you were probably burning holes into the cement, “and a waste of my fucking time.”

“You can’t force yourself to feel differently,” Minho pointed out, lowering his temper along with you as he spoke softly, “None of us can. If we could, why would unrequited love or affairs happen?”

“When did you get so wise, Aristotle?” You scoffed, fighting a smile as you ruffled his hair.

Minho swatted away your hands, “I’m trying to be serious here. Look, I bet you Chan is at your front door right now with a bouquet of flowers, anxiously wanting to apologize to you. I would bet ten dollars on it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your smile was almost predatorial, never shying away from a chance to make some fast cash, “Seriously?”

Minho’s smile faltered ever so slightly, and he hoped to whatever god who was listening that Chan was actually getting his fucking act together, “Hell yeah.”

You grinned, shaking his hand as you laughed, “You’re an idiot.”

“Whatever. Now let’s head back to the car so I can collect my ten dollars.”

Your dumb smile faded as you stepped out of the car in front of your driveway, eyes widening as you caught sight of a familiar figure standing on your porch. It couldn’t be. But yet, if your eyes weren’t playing yet another cruel joke on you, it was indeed your best friend, frantically knocking on the door with a bouquet of flowers in the other.

How could this be? How could he have done everything that Minho had predicted? Wasn’t he supposed to be on a date?

All the doubts, the questions, and the fears bubbled over as his name got caught in your throat, “Channie?”

.

 For a moment, Chan genuinely thought that you were merely a figment of his imagination. Why would you be here? Especially with Minho standing beside his car a little ways away and with his jacket draped over your shoulders. Why had you returned?

His eyes widened as you walked closer, and the glow of the lamp light shifted in accordance to your movements. You were real. You were looking at him, albeit with a hint of caution laced with concern, but you were here. 

“Channie, what are you doing out here?” You asked, and his heart began to pound with fear and guilt. You were worried about him. Even after everything he put you through, you still cared about his wellbeing. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at his lack of response, and you walked cautiously closer, “Chan? Chris? Are you okay--eek!”

Chan’s feet grew a mind of their own, and he rushed towards you in a fit of desperation, crashing into you as he wrapped his arms tightly around your shoulders. It was a bit of an awkward position, since Chan was much bigger than you, but he managed to bury his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you as if it was his last chance.

If you weren’t concerned before, you certainly were now. Chan was never the clingy one. Yes, he liked cuddles and he never shied away from a good hug, but he was never like this, holding onto you for dear life.

“Chan, what’s happened? Gosh, you’re freezing. Why are you out here in the cold--” you froze as your ears perked up to what Chan was mumbling, repeating like a mantra.

He was apologizing.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--” He whimpered, his fingers tightening around your coat as he hugged you tightly, “Please, forgive me. I was so stupid. I didn’t know.”

You sighed, and you felt the residual bitterness bleed out of your body. Of course you knew Chan wasn’t purposely being malicious, and if it ate him up with guilt so much that he waited by your door to apologize, then that was enough punishment for you to be more than satisfied.

“Channie, I need you to look at me, okay?” You instructed with a hint of sternness, trying to pull away in order to face him. Chan shook his head, but complied all the same, pulling away from the safety of your arms in order to look at you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Minho rolling his eyes as he got back in his car, mouthing the words “don’t fuck it up again.” Chan grimaced in affirmation. He didn’t plan on it; not in a million years would he ever want to hurt you again.

You gave him a small smile as he finally met your gaze, “Good boy,” you praised, and Chan was unfamiliar with the tremor in his body that your words caused. When was the last time he’d gotten that from anyone? Oh right, it always came from you. Words of affirmation always came from you, and you always knew when he needed it.

The apologies clawed their way up his throat until he could no longer stay silent.

“I’m so sorry--a-about yesterday,” he sniffled, his shoulders trembling as he hiccuped, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to be overbearing. I-I just--I realized how stupidly jealous I was about the whole situation, a-and I didn’t want you to leave me…”

You sighed, reaching up to pet his hair gently, “It's okay, I forgive you,” you said simply, and you did forgive him. There wasn't any point in holding it over his head like you were better than him, “Everyone says stupid things they don't mean, and you had a bad date the night before.”

Chan stared at you, his eyes glossy with unshed tears as he unabashedly admired your beautiful face, your kind eyes, your perfectly kissable lips. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. You were clearly giving him a way out. “Stupid things they don’t mean,” was what you called it.

But he meant them. He was truly jealous. And it wasn’t the right emotion to feel, but they were real. He wanted you. He wanted you beside him. 

He shouldn’t be greedy. He shouldn’t bite off more than he deserved to have. It was a miracle in itself that you were willing to forgive him. But at the same time, Chan knew you were as lonely as he was. He wanted to try and fill that hole for you, damned the consequences.

And just like that, Chan made up his mind.

“W-what if I meant it?” He blurted out, studying your face for any micro expression you could give off that indicated you were uncomfortable.

Instead, you looked only puzzled, “Meant what?”

“I was jealous,” he confessed plainly, stepping just a hair closer, and to his astonishment, you didn’t back away. You allowed him into your personal space, slowly and cautiously.

“Why in the world would you be jealous?” You asked softly, ever so perceptive, “It’s not like you love me or anything.”

Chan winced at the reminder of his hurtful words, but he couldn’t avoid them. He could only make up for them by proving that he was an idiot, that he actually loves you so, so much, “I spent all my time trying to find my perfect other half,” he whispered, his words only meant for your ears.

“I was always looking, always feeling incomplete. But, maybe I was looking in the wrong place,” he said, slowly reaching his hand up to cup your cheek. He could practically count your eyelashes he was so close. 

“Maybe, the reason I could never find them was because they were beside me the entire time,” he finished cautiously, his thumb brushing against your soft cheek. You let out a soft, shaky breath, and for a moment, Chan feared that he’d ruined everything all over again.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” You said finally, but Chan felt like almost sobbing with relief as you leaned into his touch. Acceptance. Tentative, but true. 

Chan smiled, “That’s because you have all the braincells in this relationship, my dear,” he said solemnly, and his heart fluttered as you giggled. Ah fuck, he really was in love with you.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” he said again, holding you close as his forehead rested against yours, “I’m not at all experienced with this...dating thing, but I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make everything up to you. I’ll make you happy. I promise.”

You chuckled softly, and let your eyes flutter shut, “We can both learn along the way,” you said before your lips were pressed gently against his, and Chan’s brain quite literally short circuited. the kiss was chaste, innocent, gentle, and it swept him away like the warmest ocean breeze. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you ever closer.

That’s right, both of you had all the time in the world to learn. And everything would be alright, as long as you did it together.