#and like hotch saying “it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers. and some people grow up to catch them.”

[frankiebirds]

will forever thinking about morgan refusing to leave dr. brazier's side while the bomb under her seat is being defused.

i didn't get a good screenshot of it, but he's also holding her hand the whole time.

and then the way he hugs her??

keep in mind he Just met this woman. he has no emotional connection to her beyond the fact that she is a person in distress and he is a person who cares. there is a bomb under her seat that could go off if she moves wrong or they fail to defuse it. if that happens, it will kill her, and almost certainly him too. he doesn't care. he kneels outside her car and holds her hand while she prays because he will not let her be afraid alone. he will not let her die alone, if it comes to that. derek morgan the bottomless well of compassion you are.

[thesiriusmoon]

Aaron Hotchner one shot: Not good enough

⚠️Mentions of child abuse and panic attacks⚠️

Show: Criminal Minds

Summary: Hotch is in the hospital after sustaining an injury when arresting an unsub and Gideon does nothing but make him feel worse about what happened.

Includes: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, childhood trauma, crying, lots of love

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan

I headcanon Hotch to be adopted so therefore he has a loving mother and father rather than the father that abused him, but he’s relevant to the one shot.

——————————

“I expected more from you Aaron”

Gideon’s words had stabbed Aaron in the heart.

It put the bullets in his arm to shame.

The older man turned his back to the unit chief and left the hospital room without a second word, leaving the younger man frozen in place. All alone in a deafening silence.

A cold wave poured over Aaron like a bucket of ice. He had disappointed the man he looked up to from the minute he first walked into the B.A.U. He wasn’t a father substitute like he was for Reid, he was a mentor and someone Aaron wanted to impress and gain validation from. He craved praise and recognition because that was the only way he’d know he was doing right.

The fear of disappointing others had always been kept a secret. It something his biological parents had so kindly gifted him in his youth.

Ever since he joined the B.A.U, Aaron poured his heart and soul into every case he worked. He wanted to save, protect, and help people, because the little Aaron Hotchner hadn’t been treated so kindly. You know what they say, when you grow up in an environment that’s extremely abusive and violent... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers. Yet some, grow up to catch them.

This case was no different. Aaron had figured out that the man they were looking for was white, mid thirties to early forties, sadistic, worked with tools, probably worked with vehicles due to the oil left on the victims bodies, and that he had recently lost a loved one due to divorce or death who had blonde hair and blue eyes as all of his victims had the same appearance. His name, Trevor Jenson, and he had a child. A young boy to be exact who was the spitting image of his mother. Blond hair, blue eyes, and… bruising. It didn’t take long at all to click that the man had been hurting him.

Gideon didn’t know what it was like to live with a monster, he wouldn’t understand how Aaron felt seeing the little boy, who was only seven, cowering in the far corner of the living room when the FBI kicked down the door of the Jenson home. His knees were tucked up to his chest as tightly as they could be, his cheeks tear stained, and his eyes wide with fear glancing back and forth between his burly father and the agents, each of them ready to fire their guns.

The familiar smell of cigarettes burned his nose the second he entered, but that was fine, he had smelt those things before. It was the strong tonic wine that made his eyes water. It was worse than the smell of a hospital, it was the smell of someone drinking themselves to death. The scent had reminded him on somewhere.

Aaron’s gun shook in his hand and the breaths he took gradually became deeper as the image of the young boy took him on an unwanted journey to the past. A memory that had been hidden away deeply in the chest of Aaron’s life before age 12 had flashed before his eyes. Was that what he used to look like…?

Coming to see the boy closer now, he looked very similar to his son, Jack. He could never imagine putting his sweet little boy through something like this. Something his father was known to do him when the doors of his family home were closed and most certainly locked.

Aaron tried hard to regain his composure, he had an important job to do… but the memories he kept locked away came flooding out as the dam in his mind he worked so hard to build broke and began crumbling into pieces.

It suddenly felt like he was back there. Trapped. He could see a young boy with messy dark hair and deep brown eyes that glistened with tears that never fell. He could hear his alcoholic mother screaming at his equally drunk father downstairs

He could see himself in a corner trembling just like the Jenson boy, and hear his mother hurl abuse at his father from downstairs. She sounded like an air siren, alerting both him and his younger brother there was a war brewing. The only thing was that only they would experience it. The outside world wouldn’t have a clue.

It was then that Aaron felt a hard knock at his chest and an excruciating pain ran through his shoulder, and the floor and his back became one. He had been shot.

He hadn’t even heard the SWAT captain yell for him to get down when Trevor opened fire. Not had he heard the bangs from the gun, it had blended in so easily with the screams of his past.

It was by sheer luck that one bullet had hit his vest and the other one his right shoulder, missing major arteries. But that didn’t make the pain go away, or the disappointment he felt within himself for letting his guard down.

“I expected better from you Aaron.”

It echoed in his mind as he sat, staring at the large white door.

Expected better… he let Gideon down. His stupid mind had let itself become vulnerable, which was just what the unsub fed off of, like a shark in a pool of blood. He could probably smell it off him. Abusers had that hidden talent. Aaron made the perfect target, and that’s how he ended up where he is now. Alone in a cold hospital room with only his mind to keep him company. The mind that got him into this mess in the first place.

To Aaron, vulnerable meant showing any negative emotion, because it meant he wasn’t in control.

It was an act of survival to not let his emotions control him, because if they did, he didn’t think he’d be who he was today. He could shut himself off for hours while keeping a straight face because that was how he was brought up. ‘Men don’t cry Aaron!’ Was all he ever heard. Having emotions in that life was a crime, so naturally the little boy adapted and refused to express himself. Even now knowing that men do in fact cry, Aaron finds it extremely difficult to unlearn his teachings. It wasn’t as simple as just embracing himself, it felt weird… awkward… embarrassing when trying to open up. Even the simple act of crying made himself cringe. His curtains were sewed shut, and Aaron had no idea when the show would begin, and if it did how many people would watch?

Aaron thought he would be able to turn this on and off but was proven wrong when he found himself subconsciously holding back his emotions at the simplest of times. He didn’t cry when he needed to, when frustrated he only grit his teeth, he never allowed his face to show that he was scared, which meant that there was a bottle inside of him filling up day by day. If Haley were to ask him how a stress filled day had been, he’d nod his head and tell her everything went fine. Eventually that bottle would overflow with how much had been kept in.

Today was that day.

Aaron’s emotions took over, and he paid the price for it with a bullet to the chest. This couldn’t have been a better time.

Laying on the hard ground, loud bangs penetrated his ear drums while unable to move. The footsteps of his father were becoming louder, he was coming upstairs now, he wasn’t safe, any moment now he would appear and it would be his turn to be thrown around.

“Hotch!? Hotch wake up man!” The muffled voice of Derek could only slightly be heard, as if he were shouting underwater. Fear mixed with the firing had Aaron’s ears turning off, he didn’t want to hear anymore, his fathers yells were getting too loud.

He shut his eyes.

Aaron worked so hard to get this job. Sleepless nights mixed with ink and paper, he was absolutely determined to succeed. He loved everything about being an agent. He wanted nothing more than to put scum like his biological father in prison.

Back when was just a new profiler he had been taken under the wing of the famous Jason Gideon, and years later he was promoted to become the chief because of how well he worked. Was he losing his touch? Why else would the man he learned and looked up to be disappointed in him.

He was surely pathetic. He was angry at himself for not being able to control what he saw, and most importantly what he felt in the Jenson’s house.

He hadn’t thought about his old life in a long while, he didn’t have to. Aaron and Shaun had been taken away after a frightful night like the Jenson’s. He had a loving mother and father now who made up for the boys lost time with their blood family, and attended counselling sessions to which Aaron had grown to understand his life.

Seeing the state of the young Jenson boy had hit him in the gut. How could a parent be so cruel to their child? Someone so innocent, who needs protecting, and only wants love. Aaron wished he had gotten that instead of a drunken man and distant mother who never had the time for him or his brother unless it was for a punishment.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved his adoptive mother and father to bits, they were his real parents, but at this moment he caught himself thinking about the ‘what if’ of his childhood.

What if his biological parents had loved him? What if he didn’t go to bed scared all the time? What if he had just grown up normally like all the other kids in his neighbourhood? What if… what if… what if… they spun around his head like a taunting merry-go-round where the high pitched music sounded like a woman screeching in hilarity,

Well… through the counselling sessions Aaron had became stronger. He got better. But the shock of witnessing the Jenson boy had sent him back to being seven himself. After Haley’s death Aaron had been a little sensitive, looking away when looking at crime photos, avoiding female victims and leaving them for Jennifer or Emily, and every time he was home with Jack he only wanted him in his arms. The Jenson house was his last straw.

He never realised how bad little Aaron had it until he saw it from an outsiders position. It had penetrated the gap in his vulnerability and tore it open like a child on Christmas day, delighted to get into Aaron’s mind.

What would the team think if they knew their boss, the strong man who was there for others to lean on was on the verge of breaking down over some silly little thing. He couldn’t let himself be seen as weak. That word made his lip tremble. He hated that word more than anything. What was weak anyways? Well, to Aaron it was not being able to protect himself, his brother, or his wife and son.

That poor little Jenson boy… the suffering he must have went through couldn’t only be imagined by Aaron, but physically felt. He knew what it was like, and the memory of that had sent him into a panic. In the field he became lightheaded, and felt like he were in a dream looking at how familiar the house was. Dirty, smelly, and a scared little boy curled in a corner.

He now sat upset, scared, and unloved, just like many years ago where he sat in a hospital room as a boy. He failed to do his job and could have died in the process. Aaron didn’t make mistakes, he couldn’t. He had to please everyone or else they’d hate him and walk away from him. Just like the love of his life. Once she left, Aaron thought that she would be happy, and he would get by with seeing Jack on weekends and things, but once Foyet had barged in on the picture, all of her happiness disappeared. He blamed himself, for all of it. If he was good at his job he would have gotten there in time.

One thing which was the Jenson home had Aaron spiralling into a pit of negative and self deprecation. It was a domino effect and Aaron couldn’t stop the counters from falling. He felt like he was falling and that he would never stop. A memory he didn’t even want brought back up again had been brought to light, he was shot, and Gideon didn’t care at all. Some mentor he was. Not even a ‘I’m glad you’re alright Aaron’ or ‘are you ok Aaron? Do you want to talk?’

All he got was the cold sound of his hospital door closing.

Did… anyone care?

That thought alone was enough to break him. He felt the sob bubble in his chest before he gave in and let it out. He was alone anyways, not that anyone would want to be in with him.

His team thought he was a heartless man who couldn’t care less about anyone’s feelings, but that wasn’t true at all. He just didn’t know how to express himself, meaning the love he has for his team wasn’t always visible. It was like a spirit. Definitely there, you just can’t always see it unless it wants you to.

He cared a lot for his team. He made sure Reid was comfortable and if he was ever overwhelmed that his office door was always open to him. Morgan over compensates for losing his father and going through abuse from his football coach and Aaron is always there for support if it’s wanted. Jennifer stresses about the cases she didn’t choose for the B.A.U to review and Aaron is the one to tell her she did the best job. When Emily was new Aaron made sure she was fit for the job, but only because he cared and wanted her to do well. Rossi’s been through it all, and Aaron is always there for if he needed to have a chat or perhaps a drink. Garcia had a soft heart, and from the minute Aaron brought her into custody he knew she was special, and never let her forget that.

And Gideon… well Aaron was there to make himself feel good. At least that’s what it seemed like now.

He didn’t want to sound selfish in expecting the team to do the same to him, but he can’t deny that he felt left out. Pushed to the curb while the others walked together probably bonding over how much they hate him.

It made him hate his past life even more, because even though it was behind him it still happened.

He knew he was safe from the abuse, he had been for a very long time, he was a grown successful man with a son who he loved very much, but I guess everyone has off days. As much as they hate it, they will, and that’s ok. It’s how we deal with it is what matters. Aaron can’t even recall the last time he broke down, he must have been a teenager, maybe younger. Letting his emotions both in and out were like strangers.

He wished he was normal.

And as childish as it may seem (it isn’t) all Aaron wanted was a hug from his mother who would tell him that everything will be alright. Comfort. That was what he craved.

Tears rolled down from his eyes leaving trails of salty water to stream down his cheeks and land on his white covered lap. Spluttering like a lost child, his working hand scrunched his hospital gown tightly in his fist and he could feel his chest rapidly rising up and down desperately trying to catch a steady breath. No luck.

“Sir I left as soon as I- oh sweetie.” A frantic Penelope Garcia waving bags on her elbows came crashing through the rooms door at a an alarming speed, but she stopped in her tracks seeing the broken state of her boss.

The door closed behind her and her blue heels scurried along the tiles floor until she landed on the chair right next to Aaron’s bed where she dropped her gift bags to her feet.

If Aaron already felt terrible, he felt even worse now having his tears exposed. No one was supposed to see him like this, it wasn’t right for him to do this. He held his breath and turned his head to look into the night sky through the slight gap between the cream coloured blinds, desperately trying to stop the waterfall from his eyes while his trapped sobs painfully choked him, and his body trembled.

“Sir what’s the matter?” Penelope had only gently rested a hand on Aaron’s unharmed shoulder for a split second before she retreated it back to her lap when her boss had flinched hard, and the sobs escaped. A pang of fear hit her in her chest and spread through her arms and legs looking at her boss with what only could be described as deep concern.

“Hey- oh no- I’m sorry sir. Here have a tissue.” She frantically began digging through her bright yellow handbag and brought out a pink box of soft tissues. But Aaron couldn’t find himself being able to move, he was stuck right where he was having a panic attack.

Penelope was quick to catch on, and she moved her chair backwards away from the man to give him more space to breath in. “Aaron, it’s Penelope. You’re ok, I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere I promise.”

“I shouldn’t be a profiler if I can’t-“

“Aaron Hotchner, you’re one- if not the strongest- FBI agents we have. We all have emotions, it’s what makes us human. Unless you’re a robot- are you a robot?”

Sniffling, he shook his head.

“He expected better though.”

“Who did?”

“Gideon.”

Penelope huffed. “That old boot cant expect a thing from you Aaron. Listen to me love- he was expecting you to just get over something serious and traumatic that happened to you. You did your job, you helped catch the man, and he’s dead now. And that little boy? He’s fine.”

“Penelope, look at me.” Penelope looked at her boss in the bed. “This is my fault.”

She sighed. “What do you mean?”

“It was just like my old life. I became distracted and… and…” Aaron covered his face as he began to cry again, and this time Penelope wrapped her arms around him. And he felt himself like it.

He was rarely hugged unless it was by his son or wife… It was always so soft and loving. He never had to worry about Haley ever hating him, even through the divorce he could trust her.

“Sir, it was you who helped catch this man, and whatever happened in the past is gone too. You did it.”

As he wrapped his arms around Penelope his tears became that of relief and proudness of the young Aaron Hotchner who couldn’t for a split second believe that he could put monsters away.

Fuck Gideon.

“Are you alright now?” Penelope asked as Aaron’s breaths softened. She felt a nod on her shoulder but remained in her position, and would remain for as long as she was needed.

And they stayed like that until Aaron regained the feeling that his team did love him.

[whump-town]

Was Hotch Abused?

I offer you my 2,300+ worded thoughts on the matter with episodes included. There's going to be lots and lots of talk about abuse so you're going to want to steer clear of that if that's something you're not cool with but for those of you interested... I give you all the proof I could think of:

Natural Born Killer.

In the eighth episode of the first season, “Natural Born Killer”, we meet Vincent Perrotta. His father was abusive but from the outside looking in, no one knew a thing. Perrotta started drinking at fourteen and committed petty crimes, as well as assault, for pleasure. Going as far as to kill his own father not too long after. But Perrotta is a monster and a psychopath so it’s clear we’re not supposed to sympathize which makes his interaction with Hotch so peculiar.

Hotch is our “Captain America”. A true neutral with an infinity for doing what’s right so it’s inconceivable to compare him to Perrotta and yet Hotch gives us some rather conflicting lines to dissect.

Before Gideon hands the interview over to Hotch, he spends a moment talking with the others out in the bullpen. The whole time he’s leaned back and he’s watching Morgan and Hotch. Now, at this point, we don’t know about the sexual abuse Derek Morgan faced at the hands of Carl Buford but there’s something about the way that Gideon spends the entirety of the conversation only looking at the two of them. Waiting for them to put together what he clearly already has and when Hotch does…

Hotch jumps straight into Perrotta’s profile, asking: “You grew up in a house that looked normal and happy, didn’t you Vincent?”, “But your father beat you every chance he got”

Perrotta excuses it with a shrug, “he smacked me around some, didn’t everybody’s old man?”

Abuse is a complicated thing and, often, abused children just don’t know what their parents are doing to them is abuse. It can be a subtle and outright thing but there’s an element of normalcy to it. The parent’s abuse is as habitual, as minimal as biting your nails to the child. Adults often can’t identify their parent’s past abuse.

With Hotch you learn that his lack of expression is often as telling as his expressions and as Hotch looks back at Perrotta, there’s something so sad about his eyes. His voice goes from loud, assertive to his whispered answer to Perrotta’s question. “No.” As if, well, maybe that’s a question he’d raised once too.

Perrotta doesn’t care about that though and he taunts “well, maybe if yours had you would have learned to fight”. But is it not more telling that Hotch didn’t make a sound? Perrotta got in several hits and the only sound Hotch made was when the wind was literally punched out of him. Not even when Gideon called to him and at that point, Perrotta did not the garrote around Hotch’s throat. That’s another thing mentioned before in the profile and something Hotch mentions to Perrotta directly. You learn to take the beatings, smile even. So, it’s just a little odd how little Hotch responded…

But that’s all nothing, you can take that how you want

Which leads us to the fateful, not everyone comment.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent. When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers"

That can’t mean NOTHING, there’s so much there but there’s something about Hotch’s subtle wording. The way he’s unconsciously slipped himself in there (a very real thing that people do) and he hasn’t even realized it. Doesn’t even know he’s done it until Perrotta pushes and he pauses, asks what Perrotta means. And the subtly of it, the way he doesn’t even mean to that says more than anything else.

“And some people grow up to catch them.”

It’s a super-specific comment to make. He can’t possibly be talking about Derek because he doesn’t even know about Carl Buford yet not to mention saying that about him would be incredibly rude if he were talking about Reid (and again, he doesn’t know about Reid’s childhood yet). So… that really only leaves him because JJ, Garcia, and Elle were not abused.

“P911”

In season two, episode two “P911” the team is hunting down a man trying to sell a young boy, Peter, on the black market. Kevin Rose is an underage boy “selling” himself on the internet while his abusive father has been in prison. I’ll let you just guess who it is that leads the team on finding out more about Kevin.

Your guess is more than likely right-- Morgan and Hotch. Now, we know about Morgan but come on. Nothing to say about it being Hotch who makes the emotional appeal?

The camera even follows his gaze, he’s crouched down (to appear non-threatening because he’s so close) and we watch his eyes take in the scars on Kevin’s chest. You can also note that while Gideon remarks that Kevin’s father was “always drunk, you never knew why he was hurting you, why he was so angry” both Kevin and Hotch look away from him.

AND FUCKING TRY AND TELL ME THE “some grow up to catch them” LINE WAS NOTHING TRY BECAUSE GUESS WHAT GIDEON SAYS? NO, NO GUESS--

Gideon: “At night you’d cry yourself to sleep hoping someone would come and save you”

And it’s HOTCH, HOTCH IS THE ONE TO SAY: “You have the chance to be the one who saves someone, Kevin. You can be the one who answers him, the one who stops his pain.”

PARALLELS PEOPLE THE PARALLELS

“Profiler, Profiled”

I bet you weren’t expecting this one, huh? But there’s something about people who faced trauma that makes it so perceptible to other traumatized people-- they sniff it out like coke to a drug hound. And, just guess, who it is that spends the majority of his time fighting with Morgan? Who knows (like I said about the bloodhound) immediately there is something Morgan’s hiding.

Hotch is angry, he’s upset that Morgan would hide anything. Mumbling about there being “larger implications” and how the team can’t have secrets. With the knowledge of exactly what that secret is it makes Gideon’s eye roll a little telling. Because it’s like they both know but neither will say. Driven home by Gideon turning the attention to Hotch, asking “would you want us profiling you?”

And again Hotch is the one to leap onto the abuse. The one to put the pieces together. Hotch’s anger makes no sense. He says he’s angry that Derek’s keeping a secret but the team has many, way too many. Over the years the team unwraps all kinds of secrets, he’s never angry then. So, it’s not about the implication of a secret at all. It’s what the secret is, like misplaced anger. Anger with himself may be leftover from his own abuse. But still…

Hotch lets Morgan escape. Knows exactly who and what Carl Buford is but all he tells the team is that “he won’t even speak about him”. He always knows how to find the abuse… like I said, a bloodhound.

George Foyet

I know you’re going to find this so fucking surprising but guess who also was abused? George Foyet was beaten by his biological father and his mother didn’t save him so he hates women (bleh, men are disgusting what’s knew).

Now, blah, blah, blah Hannah, I know you’re not about to say Foyet and Hotch are a lot alike-- no of course not. Don’t be silly. What I’m going to say is that they’re foil characters? They accent one another in an opposites sort of way. Foyet is a manipulative narcissist who doesn’t work well with others. Hotch is a guilt-ridden team leader who can’t let The Reaper’s case go. There are meant to be comparisons drawn between them. A good villain does that. George Foyet shows us that Hotch is not at all this removed, cool guy that we’ve previously assumed him to be. He cries in an alley because he blames himself when The Reaper kills a busload of people.

We see he has a rather compulsive nature. He never let The Reaper case go and has very personal ties in this case. Not even after Foyet attacks him, if anything it’s worse. He brings the case file home.

But it’s certainly interesting to see yet another “villain” with that same tragic abusive father and submissive mother come into play with Hotch. We’re nearing a point where it’s getting hard to call it coincidence (and according to David Rossi, there simply is not such thing).

Haunted.

In the second episode of the fifth season, “Haunted”, Hotch voice’s over a Dickinson quote: “One need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing. Material place.” These quotes are often cheesy, if not a little cliché, but given the premise of this episode is in exploring the ways in which a man’s traumatic childhood has left him now grappling for a truth he can not define… well, maybe we can say the writers were onto something here.

Darrin Call, debatably the Unsub of “Haunted”, was abused by an alcoholic father. We see several signs of it throughout the episode-- Darrin’s delayed speech & severe neglect that leaves Darrin in dirty, hole-riddled clothing. If what we see is not enough, the reports that the team is given on Darrin explicitly state that he was extremely physically abused. It is this abuse that leads to the PTSD that he’s diagnosed with.

As sad and disheartening as Darrin Call’s life is, overall it’s the sort of episode that is forgotten over time. When it’s placed right after the episode that viewers have to watch Hotch say goodbye to Haley and Jack then, who is Darrin Call when compared to the agony of watching Hotch show genuine weakness? After watching Hotch lay in a hospital bed, tears in his eyes wondering if his son will remember him? His fears become our own and after watching George Foyet disarm and mutilate the one guy we’ve been led to believe for five seasons is infallibly, unflinchingly never going to break… well, Darrin Call has it bad but our focus is elsewhere.

It’s on Hotch, right?

The guy who is coming back to the job after only a month (and a day) off to recover. Who Morgan worries might have PTSD but he knows they can’t easily measure because Hotch wrote the questionnaire, he knows all the right answers. Who we see has had new locks installed since the attack and has Foyet’s file sitting open on a table for easy access. Who hears Darrin Call’s life (worked the same job without promotion for years before getting fired, no wife, no kids, a hermit) and bluntly asks why Darrin hasn’t just killed himself.

And let’s just take a moment to break down that comment. Hotch, who in the episode previously lost his wife and child, wants to know why a man who is steadily starting to sound a lot like him hasn’t just killed himself.

And I don’t say “sounds a lot like him” lightly.

Darrin Call has PTSD. Hotch, more than likely, has PTSD

Here are some signs just from that episode: hostility (he yelled at Garcia over something very small), self-destructive behavior (he ran into Darrin Call’s father’s house without a vest, back-up, or telling the other’s what he was doing), and guilt (blamed himself for missing the eye twitching Darrin exhibited because of his years of antipsychotic use)

Darrin Call was abused… this marks the second HEAVILY implied time that Hotch has been compared to another man abused by his father

Vincent Perrotta was the first with that hard to forget the exchange

George Foyet and his notably exactly the same past as Perrotta

“Haunted” feels like it’s supposed to prove to the audience that Hotch is losing it. He distances himself from Morgan, leaving every room that Morgan is in. He doesn’t pick up Garcia’s calls after Darrin Call attacks his therapist. The only glimpse we see of the old Hotch is with Emily, pulled to the side, but his guilt burns and he even brushes her off. Shaking his head and turning his back to her because somehow he should have seen something no one else did.

Throw in Reid’s comment about Call “victims are often drawn to the scene of their first trauma” and we’re painfully reminded of Hotch’s apartment. A place you’d think he’d want to escape but didn’t. The man was stabbed nine times in his own apartment and stayed in that same place. Almost sounds like that statement could be applied to Hotch too.

A dash of Hotch’s own comment about where Call would go to in his confusion and he says “to what he knows”, even the importance of how that orphanage is “where he became Darrin Call”. Where does Hotch go? What does Hotch know? The job.

So… we tally now three total Unsubs that Hotch has this direct relationship with. Three Unsubs with abusive fathers and mothers who couldn’t protect them. Hmm… coincidence?

Brothers Hotchner

Supervisor Special Agent Hotchner is a master of hiding, that is undeniable. It’s hard to see anything behind those furrowed brows and impersonal suits and that’s likely for a reason. However, anyone with a little sibling can tell you that no one on this Earth can and will annoy the ever-loving shit out of you like a sibling.

But that’s not really important. Sean and Hotch don’t talk about their parents. At all. Ever.

Hotch says that when Sean was in the first grade he got sent off to boarding school. “I was the screw-up making bad choices”. Interesting enough of a statement to make but you throw in the rough ages of Sean and Hotch at that time and it’s a little more than just “interesting”. You have Hotch at roughly 14-15 getting into trouble just like Morgan did at that same age (coincidence???).

(now you can certainly look at Hotch’s parentification vs. Sean’s immaturity doubled with substance abuse problems but we’d be stretching. “The Tribe” touches on the parentification but Sean just calls it “the big brother” thing and tells Hotch that he’s not Sean’s father and it’s fine it’s whatever. Hotch is a bit pushy. That’s not new. Substance abuse can just be a problem, it doesn’t have to be bc they were abused but again… a little coincidental)

So... was Aaron Hotchner abused as a child? I certainly think so

[ssajj]

Experience

Basically, a collection of moments from dating Spencer. Features Spencer learning how to knit, his little tummy, a few mishaps, and how much he loves you. 

gn! reader, 2.7k

“Did you know that it’s believed knitting originated in the Middle East around the fifth century?” Spencer asks you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You feel a small smile growing on your face. “I didn’t know that, actually.”

“Since knitting is largely defined by the yarn used, it’s also interesting to note that early Egyptians used cotton fibers instead of wool. However, by the time the practice made it to Europe, wool was the primary material used.”

“What’s got you looking into knitting?” You turn around in his arms, pressing a kiss to his nose. 

He blushes, which is exactly what you wanted. Since the beginning of your relationship, you always try to foster an environment where Spencer feels comfortable talking about his interests. You hate the way his face falls when he gets cut off or when he realizes that the person he’s talking to clearly isn’t interested. The team loves him, you know this, and you also understand that the middle of a case isn’t the best time for him to ramble about something random, but you do wish they’d be better about it when they weren’t on a case. So far, little acts of love are the most effective way to let Spencer know that you care. 

“I wanted to try it.”

“Yeah?”

His blush gets deeper. “According to a few studies I’ve seen, knitting can be considered a psychosocial activity that encourages stress relief. It can also improve fine motor skills, cognitive anchoring, and reduce awareness of pain. Some therapists are even using it as a technique with their patients.”

You hum. “Sounds cool. Do you have all the stuff you need? What do you even need, just needles and yarn?”

“No, not yet,” he says, pausing. You wait for him to continue. “Can you come with me?”

“Duh.”

An hour later, the two of you are at Michael’s. It’s the first time either of you has ever been in, and frankly, the store is huge. You look around with wide eyes. “Good thing the aisles are marked, huh?”

You take Spencer’s hand, letting him trail behind you as you find the aisle with all the yarn. There are so many colors to the point where it seems overwhelming. “Any clue what colors you want to start with?”

To your surprise, Spencer seems to know exactly what he wants. Without saying anything to you, he heads toward the yellow section, pondering for only a few seconds before grabbing a few and heading back to you. 

“Yellow?” You question, holding out the basket you’d grabbed. “I figured you’d go for like...neutrals or something.”

Spencer places his pick in the basket. “Greys, blacks, beiges, browns, and whites are generally considered neutral colors.”

“And you got yellow.”

He nods.

“Do I get to know why you picked yellow?”

He shakes his head, some of his hair falling in front of his face from the action. “Eventually.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, Mr. Secretive. Let’s go get the other things you need.”

…

Spencer continues to be oddly secretive about the entire knitting thing. He tells you about it, sure, but he tends to work on his projects when he’s off on cases and won’t let you see them after. 

“Eventually,” he keeps repeating, even after you try to bribe him with cupcakes. 

Because you’re a weak human being, you give him the cupcakes anyway. You’ve never been able to resist his puppy eyes. 

After he grabs a cupcake, he joins you on the couch, pulling you against him with his hand on your waist. “These are really good, bub,” he tells you. “I’ve missed your baking.” You adjust so that you’re laying down, head resting in his lap. You kiss his stomach, smiling when he lets out a little giggle. God, you’re so in love with him. You’ve loved watching him become more confident, you’ve loved watching him become comfortable in his body, and you’ve loved watching his smile come out more and more. When you first started dating, you never thought he’d be the giggling type. 

“I’ve missed baking,” you admit. “Work’s just been crazy.”

"I know," he says, tangling his hand in your hair. "You've been more stressed."

Sighing, you shift again so your face is practically buried against his stomach. "I know. And it's stupid. It isn't like my job is even that hard. Nothing like hunting down a billion serial killers."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just long enough for shame to start burning through you. Before you can start backtracking, apologizing for being stressed over nothing, he pulls you up, settling you so you're seated in his lap. "Y/N," he says, shaking his head. "Your job is important. And you're allowed to be stressed over it. You help people in a different way than I do, but that doesn't make it inherently lesser."

You hum. 

"I'm serious!"

"Be a weird thing to joke about," you mutter. "Look, it's fine. Seriously. You don't need to try to make me feel better."

He kisses your forehead. "I love you. I'm always going to try and make you feel better."

…

Spencer has a bad case. You can tell the second you see him, the brief moment the two of you lock eyes before he slams into you, rocking you back on your heels as his arms wrap around you. 

"Hey, hey," you soothe, rubbing circles along his back. "C'mon, Spence. Breathe with me."

He sucks in a few panicked breaths, his grip on you tightening. You make sure to keep your breathing even, coaxing your boyfriend to follow the rhythm. Eventually, he settles down enough that you feel okay pulling away a little. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask. 

He shakes his head. "Can we just go to bed?"

You've never been one to say no to him, so you don't. Instead, you let him lean on you as you make your way to bed, helping him strip off his clothes and get into something more comfortable before sliding under the sheets. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers, voice sounding raw. 

"You'll never have to find out."

…

Significant others are always allowed at team hangouts, so you, Beth, and Will are all gathered at a table with the BAU at their favorite bar. Morgan and Penelope are off dancing, Rossi’s chatting up a confused looking bartender, Hotch is glued to Beth's side, JJ and Emily are playing darts, and Spencer's standing behind you, letting you rest against him. 

"I love you," you blurt out randomly, twisting in his arms. You think you can hear Beth's "awww" from where she's seated. "Like, a ton."

Instead of answering, he kisses you. It sends an electric current through you, just like it always does. His hands come up to cup your face, tilting your chin to allow you better access. Your arms go around his hips. Every time he touches you, it always feels like you're on fire but in the best possible way. You'd let yourself burn like this for an eternity, you'd let yourself stay in his arms and melt away. 

"Whoa, there!" Morgan shouts, making you smile into the kiss and ruin it. Spencer's smiling too though, so it's okay. "Keep it PG, you two! Mom and dad are here!"

"Mom and dad?" Will questions. 

You don't let go of Spencer, but you do turn your head to look at Will. Spencer's hands drop down to your shoulders, like he can't stand not touching you either. "Hotch and Rossi," you explain. 

He nods, even though he still looks pretty confused. 

After an hour, Spencer wanders off with Morgan, asking the older agent something about Star Trek that you don't quite catch. You trust him well enough with your boyfriend, so you make your way over to JJ and Emily. "I have an important question."

They both turn to look at you, eyebrows raised. For people who were so drastically different, they have a lot of the same mannerisms. You wonder if they got them from each other. 

“Do you know what Spencer’s been knitting?”

JJ gives you a small smile as Emily starts giggling. 

“That’s your very important question?” Emily asks. 

You nod. “Sure is.”

“He said we aren’t allowed to tell you,” JJ shrugs. “I’m sure you can figure out why.”

Frankly, it takes you an embarrassingly long time to allow the dots to connect in your brain. When it does, you can feel your entire body soften. “Oh. He’s making me something.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “Did it take you this long to realize that? I thought Spencer liked smart people.”

“Em!” JJ chides gently before refocusing her attention back on you. “She’s kidding. Spencer will give you what he’s been working on once he’s happy with the final product.”

As you walk back to your table, you ignoring the warring feelings in your gut.

…

“Why do you always ask me “did you know” before you start rambling about something?”

It’s late, and your question catches Spencer off guard. He rolls over in bed so that you’re facing each other. “What do you mean, love?”

You bite your lip, chewing at it as you think. Before you can even answer him, he reaches out and pulls it free. 

“You’re going to make yourself bleed if you do that.”

He’s right. He’s always right. “I was just wondering if, well. If you’re going to get bored of me, since I’m not nearly as smart as you.”

Spencer sucks in a breath. “Y/N, where is this coming from?”

You shrug one shoulder. “Dunno. Look, why don’t we just forget-”

“I’m not going to forget about it,” he interrupts, voice surprisingly stern. “Even if my mind allowed me to forget about things, I wouldn’t want to forget about this. Because honestly, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

When you go to speak again, he takes one of your hands and brings it up to his face, kissing it gently, effectively shocking you back into silence. 

“I love you,” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He’s still holding your hand. “You make me happier than I thought I could be, happier than I thought I deserved to be. And I know I’m not always great with words or emotions, but you need to understand how important you are to me. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. When I’m feeling down, I know that I can turn to you and you’ll help soothe me and I hope you know you can always come to me, too. When I talk, you listen. And you aren’t even listening just to placate me, or out of pity. You’re really, truly listening. You engage with the conversation, and you do your best to remember the things we converse about. When I learn something new, I’m excited to talk about it with you. When we’re together, I count how many times you’ve smiled. One, because it’s gorgeous. Two, because I need to make sure you’re happy, and if you’re not, I need to help as much as I can, becuase you always deserve to be smiling and happy. I just- I trust you in a way I’ve never trusted anyone else, Y/N. With my mind, my body, with everything. I don’t need someone with the same IQ as me. I don’t want someone with the same IQ as me. I just want you.”

“Spencer,” you breathe, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

“I know it can be hard not to doubt yourself. It’s a natural human emotion. But I just need to make sure that you’re aware that I’ve never doubted you, okay? And if you need a reminder, just let me know.” He wipes at the corners of your eyes, catching the tears. 

“I love you.” He smiles. “I know.”

…

Spencer laughs when you jump on his lap, a soft exhale of breath escaping. “Yes, dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Guess what I did this morning?”

“What?” “Made you cookies.”

His eyes light up. “Chocolate chip?” You give him a quick kiss. “Of course. Let me go grab them.”

In one quick movement, Spencer stands, sweeping you into his arms. You shriek, lacing your fingers together behind his neck for extra security. 

“What’s happening?”

“We’re going to get the cookies you made,” he tells you, starting to walk toward the kitchen. 

You laugh. “I guess working out with Morgan has been going well, huh? As long as you don’t lose your tummy.”

He blushes. He knows how much you love his entire body, but he also knows how much you love that one area in particular. 

Once you’re in the kitchen, he puts you back on your feet, but still wrapping his arms around your midsection. By now, you’re used to his tactile nature, but it had come as a shock to you back at the beginning of your relationship. Spencer had told you a million times that he wasn’t particularly touchy, and that had been fine. You’ve seen him dodge other people’s handshakes and hugs. After a few months, though, you figured out that he loved affection from the people that he cared about. It’d been obvious in the way he always stood a little too close to Morgan and JJ, in the way he let them ruffle his hair with a smile on his face, and the way he hugged them like the thought of germs or cross-contamination never even entered that big brain of his. When he started getting like that with you, it had made you want to weep. 

The cookies are in a tin on the counter, so you don’t have to separate from Spencer to grab them. “Here,” you say, opening it up. “Here’s the result of my day off.”

…

“Okay!” You announce loudly, covering Spencer’s paperwork with your hands. “I was under the impression that a certain someone isn’t allowed to work from home when he’s injured?”

Spencer glares at you, not that there’s any real heat behind it. “I’m bored.”

“You’re injured, honey.”

Last week, you’d gotten the most terrifying phone call from JJ, who told you in a shaky breath that Spencer had been shot. She assured you that he’d be okay, but you didn’t breathe again until you were in his arms, his voice filling all your senses. 

Despite him continuing to protest, he doesn’t stop you as you pack up everything on the table, placing it on the counter. “I know you don’t like to let your mind wander,” you acknowledge “But you need to let yourself rest a little bit. C’mon. Come sit with me in the living room, I’ll get us takeout.”

Five hours later, the two of you have binged the worst reality show you’ve ever seen. Spencer had watched most of it with his mouth slightly open, like he couldn’t even believe what he was watching. “Hey,” he whispers. “Thank you for taking care of me.” “Always.”

…

On your birthday, you get to find out what he’s been knitting. 

It’s painfully early in the morning, but you and Spencer had agreed to celebrate early, since you were both nervous about him getting called away on a case during the day. He hands it to you with a blush coloring his nose and you unwrap it gently. 

It’s a winter set. A hat, a pair of gloves, and the softest looking scarf. They’re all the same shade of yellow he picked out when you went with him to Michael’s. 

“I know it’s kind of stupid-” he starts. 

You interrupt him with a kiss, pulling him against you and letting him deepen it. He smiles against your lips. “Does that mean you like it?” “I love it, Spence.”

He’s standing above you, so you put the gifts on the table to give him room to sit on your lap. He does almost instantly, pressing his forehead against yours. “The color reminds me of you. Sunshine.” You don’t think you can ever be any happier than you are at this moment. You bask in it, in him. “You’re perfect.”

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (One)

Chapter One: Wins and Losses

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

If you’d have told high school senior Y/N that she’d be working at the FBI after graduating college, she would have never believed you. Not only did she have zero interest in law enforcement, she also seemed to lack any athletic skills to back her up. She was nothing like her fiancé, who’d had his heart set on joining the bureau since middle school. She and Grant Anderson were friends in high school and ended up getting together during their junior year. Anderson proposed to Y/N during her second year of college. She’d graduated almost two years ago now, but the wedding date was unknown. They’d been dating for four years and engaged for another four years with the wedding nowhere to be seen. He’d been the first and only boy–and man, to ever pay her half a mind. To her, that was good enough. Hell, she’d been with him for eight years, if she’d wanted to leave him, she’d have left long ago. Right?

Imagine her surprise when he’d told her that his new boss, Aaron Hotchner, was looking for a receptionist for the BAU. Fresh out of college, landing a secure job? That was a miracle, and she really did have to thank her fiancé for it. But everyone around her was so cool and she was just…there. Her job was basically to sort through files, organize Hotch’s meetings, among other things like making reservations at the hotels the agents stayed at on their cases. 

The Agents of the BAU.

They were essentially the coolest people she knew.

First comes Agent Gideon, one of the founders of the BAU. His ability to read people scares her sometimes. How can one man’s beady little eyes have the ability to read people like they were some kind of book stowed away on a dusty shelf? A shelf only he can reach.

Then, comes Agent Hotchner, the unit chief. A stoic man with an even more stoic face. He’s a man who, to put it lightly, takes his job very seriously. On more than one occasion has she met his wife, Haley. They made a beautiful couple in her eyes and they’d just had their child, Jack Hotchner. She never knew how a baby’s face could be so wrinkly–yet so cute. Haley and Aaron were high school sweethearts, much like she and Grant. But that seemed to be the only aspect they shared. Despite his suffocatingly hard shell, Aaron was a loving man. That much was obvious. She wondered if Grant had ever looked at her the way Aaron looked at Haley.

Agent Derek Morgan, where to begin? He was tall, dark, and every bit handsome. His charming nature made all the ladies of the sixth (and fifth, and seventh, and eighth and–) floor swoon over him anytime he walked by. He is one of the bravest men she’d ever known. His ability to put himself in the place of the unsub was something she’d only heard stories about–but it gave her chills every time.

Next comes Agent Elle Greenaway, one of the most headstrong women Y/N has ever met. Her bluntness can come across as harsh, but she knew a woman in law enforcement had to stand her ground to be treated with as equal respect as her male counterparts. She admired her strength.

Agent Jennifer Jareau, or as Y/N knew her, JJ, was a kind hearted, compassionate woman who’s way with words absolutely blew Y/N away. The way JJ handled the media with such finesse was simply astonishing. She knew she could never string together the right words like JJ seemed to, up on those podiums, in front of all those nosy reporters. It was mind blowing to watch her in her element.

Penelope Garcia, or otherwise known as literal sunshine embodied in a technical analyst. She was the best at what she did, hacking, searching, filtering. It was a science, and Penelope Garcia made it look easy. She and Y/N had grown close since both of them stayed at the office while the other agents flew around the country, solving cases. They’d often spend endless lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ as she called it and was practically hellbent on teaching Y/N how to use Photoshop every chance she got.

And last but certainly not least, Dr. Spencer Reid. She’d never met a man with a more brilliant brain. He was known as the resident genius, the expert on well–everything. The man had an eidetic memory and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute. Is that not the most impressive thing on the planet? Nope, he just has to have three PhDs in three of the most complicated fields of study: mathematics, physics, and engineering, achieving all three before reaching 22 years of age. 

He had joined the bureau about a year after Y/N had started there. She could remember their first interaction like it was yesterday. 

He had been in and out of meetings before spotting Y/N at her desk, where she usually stayed during her lunch break, at least for the first year she was there. She was halfway through a cup of mixed berry yogurt when Spencer came up to her desk to ask where the breakroom was. Y/N directed him to the room and followed his gaze to the yogurt container in her hands before he left.

“Did you know that the origins of yogurt are pretty much unknown, although historians agree that there was no mention of it before 5000 BC? It’s thought to have been invented by the Mesopotamians.” He said as he pursed his lips and raised his brows, as if realizing he made a mistake too late.

“No, I didn’t know that! That’s super cool. You must be Dr. Spencer Reid, right?” She said, giving him her full attention, which made him slightly more nervous than he had been previously. He nodded, a shy smile on his face.

“And you’re…” he looked for her name holder, “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

She giggled and the sound activated some kind of blood rushing mechanism right up into his cheeks, “Yup! I’m the BAU’s receptionist slash Agent Hotchner’s assistant, you know, nothing fancy but I like to think I’m pretty good at sorting through files.” She raised a brow and gave him an adorable smile and suddenly Spencer wasn’t so nervous to talk to her. 

She seemed way more interactive and easygoing than just about 98% of the people in the building. He wondered if it was because she wasn’t an agent. Spencer also wondered if gaining a title like ‘Supervisory Special Agent’ would make him cold like the others, but then he remembered he has three doctorates and already introduced himself with the honorific. 

She picked up on his silence, “You know, you have nothing to worry about, I overheard Agent Gideon talking about you landing the job with Agent Morgan.” She nodded her head towards a tall, muscular man, who Spencer gathered must be Morgan. Spencer smiled back at her, her words easing even more of the tension he collected in his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, you should see the massive list of exceptions they have to make to let me into the field.” He said with a ghost of a smile on his face. She had to physically repress a laugh. And right then and there, the seed of a beautiful friendship was planted.

Fast forward to two years after that interaction, Spencer and Y/N became pretty much attached at the hip whenever he was actually in the office and not flying around the country catching serial killers. Their desks were quite far from each other, hers right near the glass doors of the BAU and his across the room right near the railing that had Hotch and Gideon’s offices as well as the conference room. It gave them both perfect views of each other, which they used to send each other encouraging smiles throughout the day, maybe a funny face or two. He always had a way of making her smile, she hadn’t felt the fuzzy feeling of friendship in years. Besides Garcia, Spencer was the only person who had made an effort to get to know Y/N. In the past two years, she’d say Spencer knew her better than anyone else, possibly even Anderson, but that was surely because he was a talented genius profiler…

Budget meetings at the FBI were definitely the most boring types of meetings in the world. She had to be there because she was the one making all the reservations at the hotels, but once they began talking about the jet and fuel consumption–Y/N totally spaced out. Spencer enjoyed the meetings, though. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Y/N would sometimes space out and let her head fall against his shoulder. The weight of her head brought him inexplicable comfort and joy. He hates it when people come near him, when did it become so endearing to him for her to trust him enough with such a simple gesture? He found himself attending the meetings and sitting next to her whenever he got the chance, hoping that one day, maybe, just maybe she’ll allow her head to rest upon his shoulder again. Perhaps it was pathetic, but he found himself feeling overjoyed at the thought of budget meetings, they became the only thing he’d look forward to. 

He wondered if this was how Anderson felt when she rested her head on his shoulder, but then his knee would start bouncing and he’d practically feel the envious monster growing in the pit of his stomach, so he’d stop. It certainly didn’t make it any easier to stop when it was so easy to look over and find Anderson leaning against her desk and flirting with her. Technically, he has every right to flirt with his fiancée, but that didn’t stop jealousy from coursing through Spencer’s veins violently.

The team had just landed last night, they were coming back from a case revolving around the famous actress, Lila Archer. Apparently, she’d had a stalker. Y/N couldn’t wait to hear the details of the case, she had watched almost all of Lila’s movies. She eagerly awaited Spencer’s arrival. Just then, she heard the ding of the elevator and saw a very sheepish -and flushed- Spencer with a very playful Morgan hot on his tail.

“Morning, pretty girl!” Derek halted his seemingly incessant teasing to greet her as they walked towards her. Spencer was oddly quiet as he tried to pass by, offering her a small, awkward wave instead of his usual smiley ‘good morning!’, but Derek grabbed him by the strap of his messenger bag. He made it his mission to embarrass Spencer as much as humanly possible when he woke up this morning. What Derek didn’t know was that Spencer wanted Y/N to be the absolute last person to know of what happened. Spencer shifted uncomfortably and was positive he was sweating more than he ever had in his 24 years of life.

“Morning, Derek! So, tell me all about it! Did you meet her? Of course, you met her, duh! What was she like? Was she a stuck up diva like her character in Wins and Losses or was she more down to earth?” Y/N questioned curiously with a hint of excitement.

“Oh, I think pretty boy here has all the answers you could ever wish for. After all, it wasn’t me who made out with a hot movie star in her own pool.” Derek laughed, eyes squinting as he clapped Spencer on the shoulder proudly. Neither of the two men caught the way Y/N’s face dropped. Spencer was too focused on looking anywhere but at her and Derek was too triumphant to look anywhere but at Spencer’s -alarmingly- red face. He attempted to clear his throat when the few seconds of stunned silence became much too suffocating. Derek turned back to Y/N just in time to see her collect her jaw from off the desk and morph it into a smile.

“Spencer Reid, you did what?!” She attempted to laugh in order to lighten the mood, hoping the two profilers wouldn’t pick up on her dis-ingenuousness. 

They hadn’t, thankfully.

Spencer’s shy eyes met her curious ones as he tried to imitate Derek’s proud smile,and he could have sworn he saw a sort of unfamiliar heaviness in her gaze, but it disappeared as soon as it came. 

Could it be? Was she feeling jealous? There’s no way, she thought. But what else could be behind the not so subtle burning feeling in her chest? 

“Um, yeah. She kind of pulled me into the pool with her…” he recounted with a small voice, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“And?” Derek said in anticipation, despite already knowing.

“Alright! We kissed a few times, what’s the big deal?” He huffed, turning to look at Derek and resisting the urge to punch him in the face for embarrassing him in front of Y/N.

Garcia suddenly appeared next to them, catching the looks between the two agents and Y/N’s shocked expression, “Oh! Are we talking about boy wonder locking lips with miss Lila Archer in her pool?”

Spencer’s face dropped, “How do you know about that?!” he all but screeched.

“I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.” Garcia wiggled her eyebrows at Spencer before sharing a knowing look with Derek which led to a prompt punch to Derek’s arm from him which then led to an over exaggerated yelp of pain.

“I’ve also got photos!” Garcia said, quickly pulling out her PDA and showing Y/N.

“Garcia! How?!” Spencer exclaimed, but it was too late. Y/N was already scrolling through the photos, laughing.

“Spencer, you sly dog!” She laughed, though the situation awoke an unprecedented, seemingly underlying feeling of envy. Spencer rolled his eyes in embarrassment and stormed off in the direction of his desk, leaving the three of them behind. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly, although Y/N had to keep fighting against the way her chest felt tight every time she remembered those photos. She had a feeling she was never going to watch Wins and Losses ever again.

next chapter

feedback is always appreciated!!

[bau-hugs]

Hi I love your headcannons, so could you do some for Reid being adopted by Hotch? Like when he was a child Hotch and Haley adopts Reid because they thought they couldn't have children after many years of trying, then they had Jack.

hi! I will preface this by saying that besides what’s posted below, @penemily has an au tag where hotch has adopted most of the bau, so go make sure to check out their stuff if you haven’t already

Spencer ends up in foster care because after his father left, his mother got institutionalized and nobody was available to take Reid in

He went through 8 different homes before ending up at the Hotchners’ doorstep, cowering behind his social worker when Aaron—probably one of the most intimidating men Spencer’s ever seen—towers over him and Haley stands at his side, inviting them in despite Reid’s obvious wariness

It’s by far the nicest house he’s ever stayed at and it takes him a long time to adjust to the things the Hotchners afford him (he’s got his own bathroom, a luxury he’s never had in his entire life, and also has no idea what do with all of the space he has in his bedroom). He’s constantly double-checking and triple-checking with Hotch or Haley before he does anything at all—it takes months before Spencer is even comfortable enough to grab food out of the pantry without asking first

They enroll Spencer in a private school and put a lot of effort into fostering a healthy learning environment for Reid because it’s very obvious, despite his hesitance to show it, that he’s a genius (Hotch and Haley both listen to Reid when he rants about his interests, asking questions and probing him to continue when he gets embarrassed about talking so much). They have no problem paying to further his education although Spencer feels guilty when he starts university classes and the bills get a lot heftier

Spencer looks up to Hotch and wants to be like him, so he tried wearing little suits only to promptly discover that they aren’t comfortable and quickly revert back to the soft sweaters and corduroy pants he loves

Hotch takes Reid to work one day after a couple years of him staying with Haley and him—Hotch claims it’s because he’s trying to recruit his genius son into the BAU but really he just wants to show Spencer off to all of his work buddies—and Reid instantly becomes obsessed with the place (Haley finds his fascination with understanding and profiling serial killers a little morbid but Hotch is thrilled). It comes as a surprise to nobody when Spencer starts working at the BAU after graduating

His presence becomes a regular occurrence as he grows up and one of Hotch’s desk drawers is filled with stim toys for Spencer, a fair Number of which have been presents from a very doting Penelope Garcia, and Hotch normally has a few stored away in his briefcase just to be safe

Reid has long been moved out by the time Haley becomes pregnant—although he visits at least once a week for a home-cooked meal and he still sees Hotch every day at work—but still, the first person they tell is Spencer (he immediately starts crying and Hotch thinks he’s upset until Reid just looks up and says, “I’m going to have a brother?”)

Reid spends the rest of Haley’s 9 months reciting pregnancy and birthing facts whenever he gets the opportunity (eventually Hotch has to tell him to stop because he’s starting to freak Haley out with all the statistics about birth defects and complications). When the day finally comes, Spencer is one of the first people to get to hold Jack

Spencer ends up spending a lot more time at Haley and Hotch’s house after Jack is born—he wants to spend as much time with his new little brother as possible—and helps out in anyway he can to take the burden off of them (the first time Jack says the word “Spencer,” even if it was half-slurred by baby-babble, Reid spends an hour after that repeating his name in varying octave to see if Jack will say it again)

Haley and Hotch hide the divorce from Spencer as long as they can until he ends up confronting them, knowing they’re hiding something from him. He doesn’t speak to either of them for several weeks after he finds out and the only reason he visits them during that time is to see Jack

Logically, he knows he’s not to blame for their split, but he still feels kind of responsible like, he gets to spend most of his day with Hotch at work and doesn’t see Haley as much as he’d like, and he‘s nervous that he’s around Hotch too much and maybe they’re just tired of him, not eachother and they’re divorcing in hopes that the he’ll stay with the other person and leave them alone

Even once he does start talking to them again he’s still sort of distant with them because even though he doesn’t live with them anymore he feels like he’s gonna get left all alone again and he’s scared that if he’s around them too much they’ll get annoyed and leave

After Foyet, Spencer makes sure to leave flowers on her grave at least once every fortnight and just spends time talking to her about what’s going on in his life—he didn’t talk to her enough before she died so now he’s doing his best to make up for it

[finalterms]

warning: long, pointless Criminal Minds rambling essay

The more I think of it, the more it seems plausible - Hotch and Prentiss get each other in a way no one else on the team can. We know Hotch is more comfortable opening up with his 'seniors' - Gideon, Rossi, even Strauss, to some degree. The only other person he can be frank with, I think, is Prentiss. The moment Prentiss said, "i think politics makes people distrustful, i think it makes people hate themselves, i think it tears families apart and damages people" is when Hotch knew that Prentiss knew. She said it the same way Hotch said "some people grow up to be killers, some people grow up to catch them". It's the same vulnerability, its the same weakness. It's the secret of their lives they try to keep buried down so deep within themselves that it generates a myth of its own. That weakness is really, actually, banal - common, almost. Yet the horror lies in the prospect of letting their guard down - showing who they really are.

I think its very telling that when Prentiss and Hotch reveal their flawed family relationships, they use it for a purpose - to make a point, to sit on a high horse in the context of immediate circumstances. Because nothing can be so crass as to be vulnerable for vulnerability's sake. Wading through politics - the politics at home with a father like Hotch's, an accomplished over-bearing lawyer, and a mother like Prentiss's, requires performance. Throughout the years, both Emily and Hotch perform. They become what is needed of them - the perfect agent, the perfect leader, always available, reliable - convenient.

And still, for both, the success of their performance is not enough. They both need something more. Derek knew, the moment his wife's life was on the line, that he had to leave the BAU. Yet with everything that happened with Foyet, Hotch couldn't find it in himself to leave. Deep down, Hotch needs the darkness of the BAU - he won't know what to do without it. The simplicity of normal life just won't cut it. Emily puts it well herself - "the BAU is clean. I know who the good guys and the bad guys are, I don't have to worry about screwing someone over to make a case." But, this is only what she thinks she wants. We see that in 10 episodes, she realises its not it. She tells Morgan, "I thought buying a house, and putting down roots was gonna fix this feeling. But it hasn't, its bigger than that." It's almost like she's saying, the BAU is not enough. A spy cannot be so simply appeased.

"I think I miss you already."

Derek accepts it. He's mourning the idea of Prentiss, before Doyle, before her need to leave is aired out in the open. He knows Emily will can never be just a profiler. She was never really here, to begin with. When she circles the dancing crowd later in the episode, she's an outsider looking in. A temporary guest, pretending as though these relationships are not living under the shadow of near finality. Pretending, performing. Derek's not surprised, because he's seen this coming. His outrage at Emily's secret life as a spy was outrage at the deception, at the lack of trust. Emily's barely able to fake remorse when she returns at the beginning of season 7. It doesn't come to him as a surprise that Emily doesn't want to stay. Only disappointment.

Hotch asking Prentiss to take over makes complete sense. She's the only other person who can live in the shadows, to be economical with the truth, to be political. To be the perfect person to all people. Fitting, then, that it's between these two that the words "I'm having a bad day" pass.

[heyheyloki]

Nervous

Summary: You seem to have a short attention span, getting bored with practically everything after a period of time. But, you can’t seem to lose interest in one person and begin to distance yourself in hopes of unnecessarily hurting him. Though, after two months, the nerves still won’t go away.

Spencer Reid x M!Reader

Inspired by the song Nervous by The Neighbourhood

Word Count: 2040

It’s been months working in the BAU, and surprisingly, you haven’t requested a transfer yet. It was easy for anyone to see that you weren’t a very consistent guy. You’d always take up a new hobby almost every two weeks, saying that the one you had last time got ‘too boring’ for you. It was amusing at first, and it still is to some of your co-workers. Now, it’s just route. If it was photography this week, it would probably turn to painting the next. The only consistent thing in your life was your job and your friends, but sometimes even that would switch. One week all your attention would be on Derek while the next week it was Hotchner. 

And while everyone got their fair share of attention from you, you never seemed to give any of your time to Spencer. At least, not like you used to. For months it was almost like you couldn’t get enough of the brainiac that talked your ear off about some new nerdy show or comic. Now, every time he even got near you it was like all your nervous fired off at once and signaled your brain to run, turn away and look the other way.

The drastic change that everyone noticed started about two months ago. No one remembers if anything could have triggered your panic around Reid, in fact, it was an overnight change that no one saw coming. One day you were smiling, chatting with him about the most meaningless things in the world than the next, avoiding eye contact, the slightest bit of touch, and even basic good mornings the two of you made a routine out of. 

It was more than odd, bizarre even. However, no one dared to bring it up. It was like this unspoken notice that they were all aware of, but didn’t want to meddle with. They all just thought you and him would figure it out on your own, or perhaps something private happened in your life. That was the mindset a month ago, now, they all thought this was getting a bit ridiculous. It was obvious how off Reid had become because of the change that even he didn’t dare to bring up. Hell, he even started to day dream on the job, mess up on the most simple things and sometimes not even go over the case.

The bond between the two agents that have been frozen in time was now affecting the team, and Hotch wasn’t about to let that happen on his watch. Not when you’re all casing after serial killers, rapists, kidnappers, and all other kinds of bad people everyday. 

The case today was no different than any other. Overall dangerous, and plainly disturbing. A normal day. Although, the day took a turn when Hotchner suddenly placed Reid and you to work together. Throughout the two months, he’s never done such a thing and actually made it so the two worked so far apart they would only see one another on the plane back. Now, both of you were to drive to the dumpsite to examine the remains that turned up. 

Everyone noticed when your muscles tightened, your jaw clenching. For moment, they all even wondered if this was a good idea and thought it best to just let you both solve your problems on your own. But, when they saw the surprise wash over Spencer’s eyes and look at you, only to notice you aren’t staring back, that surprise quickly was replaced with a heavy film of sadness. At that moment, they knew they all couldn’t sit on the sidelines of this anymore. 

 When Reid and you were assigned to the job, you knew automatically that you’d be driving. In your months here, you never saw the guy touch the wheel of a car once. Not that you complained, it gave you the excuse to keep quiet while you focused on the road and allowed the radio to drown out the tortuous silence that would have surrounded the both of you in an instant.

Sadly, Reid wasn’t allowing you the comfort of a quiet ride to the dump-site. After being in the car for about ten minutes at least, Reid took in a deep breath and moved his thin hands over towards the volume of the radio, effectively turning it into a low frequency noise. Simply part of the background as Spencer’s words became alarmingly loud in your ears.

“So.. what do you think about today’s case?” He asked innocently, his voice soft and teeming with anxiety. 

You, however, began to grip on the wheel harder. Your knuckles almost turning white. It was strange at how long it took you to reply, but to you it was necessary to not start blathering like an idiot. 

“Just got to stick to the profile and we’ll get through it like always.” You simply put, your voice deeper than normal. More stable, controlled. 

Then, the silence came back. Nerves completely swelling up in your lungs as it suffocated you to death. Without the radio, you were hopeless from having thoughts, ‘what if’ thoughts that began to cloud your mind. It felt like minutes, hours even as neither of you spoke. You didn’t even notice when you started to tap your finger against the wheel, trying your best to shoo away the thoughts and concentrate on the road. 

However, all that suddenly exploded, completely killing all of your thoughts when you heard Spencer ask, “Is everything okay?”

It was soft, gentle. It made something inside you twist uncontrollably with guilt beyond imagine. It was like those few simple words that anyone could say had unimaginable effects. An itch began to form in your throat, one that was similar to that of one you’d get when you get a cold. One of those annoying ones that could pester anyone. Your concentration started to completely disappear into thin air, basically questioning which way to go even with the GSP installed in the car to help. 

You knew you couldn’t stay silent forever, even if that was the only desire you had at the moment besides the others that have been pushed down for your and Spencer’s sake. At least in your mind that’s what you thought. This was all for him, so that he wasn’t burdened with something consistent. Something that he may grow bored of like you tend to get with almost everything in your life. Everything except him. And it ate you alive till you could barely look him in the eyes, until you became so nervous to even speak to him. 

“Everything is fine.” You put, unable to say anymore. 

You noticed Spencer side-eye you from the corners of your own colored hues. It made you sweat, it made your heart patter against your ribs. And all you wanted to do in that moment was wish you could blind him so he could never look at you like that again and slam your heart beneath the heel of your foot.

“You know,” Spencer started out saying, “you aren’t a very good liar.” 

You kept quiet for a moment, unable to fully think about what to say until you stopped the moving car at the stop-light. You took a moment to collect yourself, accepting the fact that slammed in your face that you couldn’t run this time. You couldn’t walk away from the good mornings, you couldn’t avoid his gaze, and you most certainly couldn’t run from your truth anymore. 

“I guess it was never part of my skill set.” You admitted, a dry chuckle leaving your lips. Your gaze jumped everywhere besides Spencer’s eyes.

Spencer leaded his head in a bit, wanting more than anything to just hear you speak. 

“Talk to me.” He pleaded. “Please.”

You brought your hands into your lap as you turned towards the man. With a large and fairly noticeable breath you began to relax your body, trying to calm your nerves. Though, you supposed at this point in the game it would always end up a failure. 

“I’m, uh, sorry for the past couple of months..” you began to say, your throat quickly getting dry as you spoke more words. Kept your voice in the fragile air longer. “I’ve just been thinking about some, uh, stuff, I guess.”

“Stuff?” Spencer questioned. You could tell he was trying to be as sensitive as he could, as gentle as he could with you. “What kind of stuff?”

“Uh,” you muttered. A small, nervous smile inching onto your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You turned your gaze away from him, knowing it was now or never. You needed to put all your cards on the table or else nothing would be the same again. Nothing would go back to the way it was, or even become better than you ever imagined. Sure, that nagging feeling of ruining something so good was horrid. It was honestly your worst nightmare. Yet, at the same time, you knew that you already ruined it. 

Time froze for a moment. All surrounding sounds drowned out, everything around them seeming almost unimportant. The air was warm as it brushed against both of their skin, the smell in the car was a mixture of nerves and gasoline fumes. Then, you spoke words that could be mistaken as pure music to Spencer’s ears.

“I think I really, really like you, Spence.” You muttered under your breath. Your words would have most certainly been unheard if it wasn’t for the short distance between you two. Though, you didn’t stop there. It was like once your confession made way out of your mouth, the dam flooded open. “You’re the one thing that I can’t seem to lose interest in. No matter how hard I try, even just ignoring you didn’t work.”

When your words came out in one large gust of oxygen that shot out of your lungs, you were desperate for air once more. You took in a few minor breaths, gaining a curiosity to gaze up at Spencer and look him in the eyes for once. When you did, it was like an arrow shot right through your heart and stayed uncomfortably stuck in there. The layer over his mesmerizing chestnut brown hues was new, unfamiliar to you, even though many of your team members saw that look in your eyes over and over again when you looked at him. His lips were twitching into a soft smile that felt like someone’s hand was wrapped around your heart, giving it small yet intoxicating squeezes every now and then. 

You could tell he was about to say something but, before he could, you both jumped out of the fantasy you were so engrossed in when the sound of a car horn boomed in both your ears. Silence grew over both of you again as you began to drive once more. Though, this time it was both a mix of comfort and anticipation. Wonder couldn’t help but sprinkle itself in there as well. For you, your thoughts were running like crazy. Many positive, but just as many were negative when you realized the situation you put yourself in. The high of living in the moment washing away as now you had to deal with your past choices. 

As some time went by, unsure if it was seconds or minutes later, you suddenly said clearly, “It’s okay if you don’t like me the same way.”

You noticed Spencer’s head whip around in the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t study all of him, even if you wanted to more than anything in the world to gain that pillow of knowing you could be facing rejection. Though, those thoughts were wiped from your mind.

“What?” Spencer asked in a more frantic, higher pitched voice. It was one that could probably match a nervous love struck teenage girl. “No, are you cra--. I do.”

“You do?” You questioned quickly, a hopefully tone floating around your words without a care in the world. 

“I do. I like you too.” He confessed. 

As you kept your eyes on the road ahead of you, a mere five minutes from your destination, you couldn’t help but let a soft, gentle smile graze your adored features. You knew later on, maybe after this case you’d have to thank Hotchner for less than subtle push.

[hotchley]

the love he deserves

"We accept the love we think we deserve." - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Surprise! I wrote something! I have no idea what it is, but there's Hotch hating himself and thinking the team are too good for him and some comfort, so do with that what you will. I'm just glad I wrote something.... There's also no dialogue which is weird because I LOVE dialogue.

Anyways. I'll let you lot decide whether it makes sense.

Trigger Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, blood

read on ao3!

Aaron Hotchner does not care for his own life. He does not care what nettles sting him, or what knives find themselves a home in his back. He does not flinch when he is labelled cold or unfeeling, and he does not shed tears when words like barbed wire a spat in his face.

He is expendable. 

And his life holds no value. Not to his team, who deserve so much more than a man broken by the very job he was supposed to show them had purpose, nor his son, who could probably hardly remember him and who deserved a parent that would not flinch every time they had to hold hands.

Aaron Hotchner's life is worthless to him. How can a life that had destroyed so many others ever mean anything? It was his fault that Elle almost died and it was his fault that Jason left. The blood of Haley Brooks- because no matter what the gravestone said, they had not been married, she did not love him- and of Kate Joyner and of Megan Kane were all on his hands. There were days where he believed it was a miracle that he did not walk around with a permanent red stain on his hands from where they had beaten George Foyet until they almost could not tell it was him.

He is a monster, dressed up in a suit, just like his father was. When he dies, no tears will be shed for him. His body will be lowered into the ground next to Haley, even though he won't deserve to be near her, not even then, and he will not be mourned. Derek will take his place. Jessica will take his son.

They will be fine. He knows this. When his son was sent into Witness Protection because there was a dangerous serial killer just waiting to get his hands on him, he came back completely undamaged. As though nothing had changed. When George Foyet turned him into a ghost that could barely hold a gun without shaking, Derek Morgan took over the team without faltering.

His father had once, and only once, said that Aaron was not his son. He was sixteen years old, angry at the world and desperately searching for a way out of his town that suffocated him more and more with every moment that passed. It was the only time he'd had the courage to fight back against his father, and he had ended up in the hospital. The excuse of falling down the stairs carrying the hoover was given.

But that comment did not make him feel ashamed of himself. It made him happy. Because if he was not his father's son, then he would not become him. He would not be like him, and he could pretend that there was a different future waiting for him.

Only there wasn't. Because he may not have been his father's son, but he was his mirror. And Haley had been so disappointed when Jack's hair had been blonde, his eyes more blue than brown, but Aaron had been relieved. When he died, so would the final piece of his father.

His father had not been a coward. He had carried on fighting through the lung cancer until his heart couldn't take it and he'd keeled over in his office, only found the next day by his secretary because his mother had stopped caring when her husband didn't come home. He had lost a part of him when the diagnosis came through- the part that loved Sean- but he had carried on because he needed to.

Aaron hadn't. He'd gotten reckless and lashed out at all the wrong people.

But then Haley died, and he had.

He'd carried on.

Not because he needed to. If anything, what he did was the opposite of what was needed. Jack needed a father, not a hero, but Hotch clung to the idea that what Jack wanted was a hero, if only so he could justify his return.

He carried on for the team. Because they were his team. 

And Aaron Hotchner cares for his team. He would stop the tide from drowning them, save their eyes from all the horrors he could. He would hold their hands and remind them of their humanity by forcing them to focus as their hearts carried on racing, as their hands turned cold when they looked into the abyss.

To him, the team is indispensable. 

They remind him to smile, force him to eat and they care. They care far too much about one dangerous and cracked man, who is currently walking a tightrope. Fall too far to the right and he will be sucked into the pool of loathing. Too far to the left and he becomes an unsub. Too far forward and he becomes his father. Backwards and he becomes the scared little boy again.

His team means everything to him. They have to. They are good and loyal people, that had grabbed him by the hand without fear and forced him from the ledge so many times without ever realising just how much strength that took. One day- and he always tells himself it will be soon, even though he knows it won't be- he will stop accepting the love they give him.

But until that day, he will cling to their goodness. Because the team- the only family he'd ever really had- changed the rainbow for him. He has no idea how to tell them, but they did, and he will never stop being grateful for that.

Emily Prentiss is the other side of his coin, far too stubborn but cursed with a mind that can't help but think of the switch within all of them that causes them to do terrible things. When he thought of red, he always remembered the blood on Elle's wall that never truly washed away. He still remembers that now, but he also remembers how beautiful Emily looks in her red tank top.

Penelope Garcia is beautiful, and her ability to never stop seeing the good is something he is terrified of destroying. But where orange had always been the colour of the fire he was told so many times he was going to burn in, it had slowly morphed into the colour of her favourite cardigan, that she always wore on the harder days and that smelt like vanilla and caramel.

Jennifer Jareau is everything he doesn't deserve but has somehow been given, because the two of them don't need words to speak and she somehow always knows what his silence means. Yellow had always been his mother's hair, held in place by clips she detested but wore so nobody suspected anything was wrong. It is now the golden pendant around her neck that shows just how much she trusts him.

Derek Morgan is what keeps him from going too far and getting lost in the forest of his head with no light to guide him out again. When they had met, green had been the colour of his mothers eyes, just as cold and unfeeling in death as they had been in life. Green was now the colour of Morgan's shirt, the one he had let Aaron borrow when Jack was sick on his and there were unavoidable meetings.

David Rossi is everything to Aaron: his mentor, the only father to show him love, the only person he trusts to put him back together on those rare occasions where he let himself fall apart. Blue was the colour of the walls in his childhood home's basement, the one place he knew he could and would never be safe. But it was also the colour of the jumper he was given for his birthday, back when he was drowning as Unit Chief because Gideon had left. That jumper always made him feel safe and untouchable. 

Spencer Reid is a genius, forced to grow up far too quickly in a world that gave him nothing but took everything. Hotch had always associated purple with the bruises on his stomach and back, but now he associates it with Spencer's scarf, that smells like old books and whiteboard pens. 

What Aaron doesn't know is that he has also helped save the team. They remember every time he put his career on the line for them, and they appreciate it more than words could ever say.

Emily knows she is trusted. Penelope knows how hard he fights for her. JJ knows he is doing his best to be a good father. Derek understands his fear, and reminds him it won't happen. David holds the same pride in his chest for Aaron that everyone who loves a child does. Spencer finally understands what a parent is meant to do.

Although Aaron Hotchner does not care for his life, his team does. They know he doesn't think they do, but the love they have for is pure and innocent. It is real and true, and they will die before someone takes it from them.

One day, they will convince him that the love they show him is no less than what he deserves. One day. It's all they want. And to want is a beautiful thing to do because it gives them hope that a better future lays ahead for all of them. But all they wish for from the future is that Aaron Hotchner accepts their love, not because he is afraid of it leaving, but because he knows that it is what he deserves.

[malereader-inserts]

Fratricide

Fandom: Criminal Mind Pairing: BAU & Male!Reader Summary: It’s a word not many know, but it is the act of killing one’s brother. Word Count: 1,729 Warning: Mentions of drugs, smoking, alcohol, abuse

Traditionally, the concept is a good twin and an evil twin, but better yet, in deviant cases, there has been an evil twin and eviler twin.

It was a common fact within the team, everyone hated cases where the serial killers were a set of twins - you, however, have a reputation of absolutely detesting twin cases, whether it be the killers of victims. The team never really understood why, until they found themselves sitting in a dirty cell under some run-down building.

You’ve been running your own case for a while, been managing calls between your cases with the team and your private investigation, a little case back home. So, when your team went to your hometown, you weren’t that all surprised to find yourself in a little predicament. 

Morgan was muttering swears, bearly beaten, with Rossi next to him - hardly touched but he was with a splitting headache. Morgan was cooping himself against the right forward corner, his head against the bar. Reid was sitting with his back against the wall as Hotch was sitting on a box. 

Prentiss was in centre mid, her arms leaning against the bar as JJ was behind you. You were preoccupied in your corner, you were the worst out of them and yet you were not surprised. 

“You sure you’re okay, (Y/n)?”

You licked your lip, ready to fall asleep against the bar. You were waiting, just a for some grand entrance as if it was a superhero film. Just as Morgan was about to speak up again, the door slammed open, entering a figure you knew all too well.

A man of your age, slightly shorter but more brute. Similar looking towards you, but there was a clear difference to differentiate the two apart. The team looked at the killer with ferocious eyes, as you tilted your head slightly, to make aware you were staring at the new incomer.

“Hello, brother, long time no see.”

The team snapped their head towards you, hearing your voice for the first time in the last five hours. You sounded bored, dull and given up, your voice rough around the edges as you finally looked up from the floor. Dark circles under your eyes but there was a satisfied smirk upon your lips.

“Always the predictable twin, weren’t you?” You asked with arms crossed over your chest, there was a familiar glint of innocence in your eyes that your team often see.

“Twins,” Reid breathes out, “Fascinating.”

“Shut up,” Your twin hissed, “I just wanted you, (Y/n), but your team got in the way. But, while they’re here, why don’t we play a game of which twin is the good twin and the evil twin. Or better yet, the evil twin and the eviler twin.”

“I could never see (Y/n) as evil,” JJ speaks up as you look at your twin with an unreadable expression.

“Then, you wouldn’t know him,” He seethes, “He killed dad.”

“Dad killed himself,” You answered, shrugging your shoulders, “Old man had it coming, with the drugs, smoking, alcohol. Come on, Dames, you really think I have it in me to kill family?”

You tilt your head to the side, your twin suspiciously looking at you as the team watches a face-off between two brothers. 

“If it helps, please point your gun at me if it helps you relax...” Your tone was funny, sent a chill down the team’s spine.

“You ruined me, I plan to return the favour,” Your brother sneers as you let out a huff.

“Okay.”

It seems like that just aggravates him more.

“Twin?” Rossi asked as you looked up from your bruised knuckles, “I don’t remember reading that in your file.”

“It was redacted, if I remembered correctly,” Reid jumped in, “Always curious about that.”

You huffed, leaning back against the wall, “We don’t get along, growing up wasn’t fun or easy. I haven’t seen him for a little over a decade and a half, I got removed from my family and put into protection witness - got my name changed and a new family. There was never a bond that twins usually make, for all I care - he’s nothing to me.”

“How old were you when you were taken away from them?” Hotch asked, curious, his heartbreaking at your sudden confession.

You had your past quite close to your chest, you never let anything in or out. Vague response whenever someone asked, you always talked about the good parts with your family you were adopted into, though you never state you were an adopted kid. You shrugged your shoulders.

“When I was thirteen?” You tilt your head before confirming it with a nod, “He’s just as wild as I remembered, if not a little tamer - yet I have seen a lot wilder people in this workforce. Most of my file is redacted about my past. I got a new life, I got to pick my name and got a loving family. With siblings that treated me like siblings rather some target. Four times.”

“Four times?” Prentiss asked as you huffed.

“Four times he had attempted to kill me, and he’s very much convinced there is an evil twin and an eviler twin. It why I hate twin cases, because what if I’m just ignoring the inevitable and that I’m just as bad as him or, worst, worse than him. It keeps me up at night, y’know?”

There was silence as JJ sits next to you, putting an arm around you and making you lean your head against her shoulder as she strokes your hair.

“We know you for a good few years, kid,” Morgan pipes up from the back of the cell, “You’re good, you don’t have a bad bone in your body.”

“Well, dunno about that Morgan,” You say, there was a bouncy tone to you, “I’ve had this bad bone since I sprained it - it’s never been the same.”

“Ha,” Morgan rolls his eyes but your joke had lightened the mood.

It keeps the team awake sometimes, to be woken up by screaming in a room not far from them. It pains them to hear your begs, it chills them to the spine. The panic in their chest when they don’t see you, to hear your cries for release, they dread that one time they’ll come back with a limp body.

It’s been almost a week, you still seem calm of the situation, a little pissed but overall unphased. Then again, they wouldn’t be expecting much from you when you’re exhausted in keeping your body alive after hours of things they don’t want to think about.

“Who’s coming to save you?” Your brother prances around, his bloodied knife waving about in his hand, “Because where were you when I needed saving?”

“Why should I grant you the pleasure of having someone rescue you when you broke me beyond repair?” You asked, spitting blood out as Morgan comes to help you stand. 

You glared at your twin as he looked helpless, you scoffed as you watch him open his mouth to have an explanation until he had none. 

“I-”

“I what?” You snapped, launching yourself to the bars.

There was one other time that the team was ever terrified of you, the young twenty-something-year-old man that could never hurt a fly. It was the talk of the week when you snapped at someone in the office for harassing one of the women there, who had personally come up to you to stop it. Everyone had stopped in their works, you never threw your hands, but the look of threat within your eyes was enough to scare someone.

This was the second time they feared for their lives, the tone of threat and anger had taken over your whole body.

“Kill me!” You challenged, scoffing almost immediately, “You can’t kill me. Even if you could, you can’t bring yourself to do it. You’ll hesitate. Again.”

“Don’t tempt me, (Y/n).” 

“It’s why you failed to kill me, the four other times,” You continued, “Fuck me, I don’t deserve to live. I shouldn’t be alive unless it was for a reason. ‘Cause at the end of the day, I’m your brother, I’m your twin. There’s still good in you, killing me will kill the good you.”

“You’ve always been the good twin,” His tone was soft but you continue to glare, “It always had pissed me off.”

At that moment he launches, a knife impaled in you. You gripped the bars for stability whilst the doors bust open of the local police. You fall back when you see your brother get taken down, into the arms of Hotch.

“(Y/n), can you hear me?” 

“Fuck-” You muttered, your hand reaching for the stab wound, only to be swatted away by JJ, “Didn’t think he would have it in him - Good for him.”

“This isn’t a time to be making jokes,” Rossi hisses at you.

You always try to make light out of a dark situation.

“Fratricide; the act of killing one’s brother,” You murmured on the plane back, you were in your corner. You were all heading back after you got patched up and your brother being put into prison, your head against the window.

“The story of Abel and Cain,” Reid recalls as you looked at him.

“Dad always called me Abel, the righteous brother,” You shrugged your shoulder before wincing out in pain, “My fault for telling him the tale of Abel and Cain.”

“It becomes common knowledge in one point of his life,” Morgan reassures you as you give him a sceptic look.

The team leaves you be as Hotch and Rossi sit in front of you, you raised an eyebrow as if it was to ask if it an inquisition. But, Rossi’s waving hand tells you otherwise.

“You know, I did suspect that you were a twin after hating all our cases on twins,” Rossi brags as you chuckle.

“Would you like a pat on the back?” You asked with a sarcastic voice as Rossi narrows his eyes.

“You know, (Y/n), you don’t have to worry about being the evil twin - you’ve always been good in our eyes, you wouldn’t be on this team or even working here if you were bad,” Hotch reminds you as you show him a grateful smile

“You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.”

[mayraki]

The Trained Assassin

Spencer Reid series. Part 11 (The End)

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Summary: Life’s not easy when you found out that instead of being trained to be a spy for the CIA, you are being trained to be an assassin, a killer. The people you wanted to stop, they were making you one. That’s when you joined the BAU to become someone new, you didn’t want to be someone’s toy. You wanted your past to be arrased, that’s all. But it’s not easy to hide a past like that.

Note: Well, the end is here! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who followed the story since the beginning. This is my first series and I couldn’t be more grateful for every comment, like and reblog. This has been a really beautiful journey as a writer and thank you for being a part of that. I love you all and see you at another one of my stories!

warning: graphic descriptions!

MASTERLIST

“The Family Grows”

Time flies when you are having a good time. Six months passed since you and Spencer decided to be together. At first, as you two suspected, it was weird. Morgan and Garcia teasing you about it, and you were pretty sure you heard Emily said at least four times the phrase “I was right.”

When you told your little brother, Max, he was so excited and started to talk about a future with Spencer and all the magic tricks he was going to learn from him.

“You are a great cook, Spencer.” Max said when dinner was over.

“Yeah, you never stop learning things about each other.” You said surprised at him.

After spending almost an hour watching Spencer make magic tricks to Max, you told him that it was time to go bed.

“But I’m on vacation!” He protested and you lifted your eyebrow.

“Max, bed.”

He sighed and hugged Spencer goodbye. He let out a little smile and looked at you once Max was our of your sight.

“You know, we don’t have to wake up early tomorrow either. We can do something.” He said getting closer to you.

“Right... what do you have in mind?” You let your arms rest on top of his shoulders and he grabbed your waist to pull you closer.

“Uh, I don’t know.” You smiled and kissed him slowly.

“I have an idea, but we have to go to the bedroom.”

You lifted your eyebrow and smiled “Oh, we do?”

He nodded and you kissed him again, but when his phone rang he sighed.

“It’s JJ.” He said confused looking at the screen.

“That’s not good.” You said and walked to your room to get changed, because you knew you had to leave soon.

After taking Max to one of his friend’s house to stay for as long as you were working on the case, you drove to the BAU. Spencer and you ran to the meeting room because you knew you were late.

“Sorry we’re late!” You said once you entered the room but noticed that JJ and Hotch weren’t there.

“Now, what were you two doing that made you late?” Morgan asked with a smirk on his face and you punched him in the arm.

“Nothing, we had to do something before coming in here.”

“Yeah, and is that thing you had to do, be connected to the fact that Spencer has shiny lips gloss all over his lips?” Garcia said and you quickly looked up to Spencer.

“Wow, that really is a a long lasting lip gloss.” You said but you turned to the team. “But that’s not what we were doing, now, drop it.”

No one could say anything else because JJ entered the room and without hesitation said quickly “Grab your go bag and let’s go. I’ll explain everything in the plane.”

“A kid has been abducted ten minutes ago. They want us because they had similar cases, once a week a kid’s reported missing. Now, her name is Julia Porter. She’s eight years old.” JJ said once the plane started to move.

“Like we all know, the first hours of an abduction are the most important. So let’s act quick.” Hotch said and everyone nodded.

The team arrived at the destination and once you were able to get to the police station, you started to do your job.

“Julia’s father is here.” JJ said.

“I’ll talk to him.” Emily offered.

“There’s going to be a bonfire this afternoon for the lost children, if this person is capable of remorse he’s going to be there. Y/n and Morgan, I need you to go there.” You nodded and turned to the board Spencer was building.

“Do you have something?” You asked him.

“Well, all of his victims are the same age. But they go for boys and girls. And the fact that they still haven’t found them, that indicated that, maybe, they’re still alive.”

“Yeah, let’s pray that and not that they’re keeping the bodies..” you said and felt your stomach turned at the thought of that.

The smell of fire came into your nose once you arrived at the bonfire. A ton of pictures and toys were on the floor, people were leaving flowers and you started to look at their behaviour.

You walked to the side of the fire and Morgan to the other. Then, you noticed a guy with a black jacket on. He wasn’t talking to anyone and he seemed nervous. He was looking down and he had a single flower on his hands.

He approached the fire and let the flower close to the photo of the most recent girl who went missing. That made you even more curious about him, that’s when you locked eyes with him and you noticed that his nerves went up. He tried to not look at you but he kept glancing. He was trying to keep calm but when you started to walk to him he quickly turned to the other side and ran towards the houses.

You ran after him and tried to get Morgan’s attention, but then you decided it was best for him to keep looking at the people there. He was fast and while he was running, he turned to you to see if you were still following him.

“Stop! FBI! Stop!” You sreamed at him but he didn’t listened to you.

It was extremely difficult trying to not lose him, the houses were big and he kept turning in weird ways around the houses. The trees didn’t let a lot of day light trough so that didn’t help either. He turned to the left and lost him on the trees.

“Fuck.” You whispered and headed back to where Morgan was.

“Where did you go?” He asked once you got next him.

“There was this guy, he seemed suspicious. He left a flower for the last girl who disappeared, and then he started to run. That’s when I followed him but I lost him on the trees.” Morgan nodded. “I’m not sure is he’s the unsub, but I’m going to find out more about him.”

***

“Yes, I’ve seen him around. He’s a pretty weird kid, he always uses the same jacket.” A neighbor told you “But I don’t think he’s capable of doing such a bad thing, I think he’s a little bit slow.”

“Slow?” You asked.

“Yeah, one time I tried to talk to him because he was in the middle of the road, but he couldn’t take a word out. He was shaking and couldn’t keep his posture straight.”

“Was he drunk?” Morgan asked.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen him with a bottle in his hands.” The neighbor said and you thanked her.

“So he lives here.” Morgan said and you nodded while walking towards the car.

“Yeah, but his house has to be behind the trees. Otherwise, out of all the neighbors we interviewed, at least one would’ve been able to tell us where he lives.”

You arrived at the police station and noticed Spencer looking at the board where all the clues were hanged.

“Is there anything new?” You asked him once you stood next to him.

“The father told us that he saw a white van across the street a couple of times.” He said without taking his eyes from the board.

“Does he remembers the type of van?”

He shook his head “he said a normal looking van.”

You slowly nodded and felt a headache appeared in your head. You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to ignore the pain.

“You ok?” He asked and you opened your eyes. His sweet eyes were looking at you concerned.

“When I don’t sleep I get this headaches. It’s alright.”

“Maybe you should take a break.”

You shook your head. “No, I won’t stop until we find this little girl.” He nodded and went back to the board.

After going back to the neighbourhood, this time with Spencer, you decided to go and look around at the houses that were hidden by the trees. They looked old and rusty, like no one took care of them. They were far away from each other.

“It looks like they are abandoned.” Spencer said and you slowly nodded.

“This is the last house?” You asked once you arrived at the end of the little road.

“Looks like it.”

You didn’t see anything strange and that made you frustrated. Because, maybe that meant you were looking on the wrong place.

“Wait, there’s a house down there.” Spencer said and you looked to where he was pointing.

There was a house behind another one. To go to it, you had to drive in a little road next to the house. But that seems to be blocked by some branches.

“That looks intentional.” You said and Spencer nodded.

You got out of the car and headed to the house that was in front of it. You knocked on the door and seconds later a old lady appeared on the door.

“How can I help you?” She asked with a sweet voice.

“Hi, we’re the FBI and we would like to ask you some questions.” The lady nodded “What can you tell us about the house you have behind yours?”

“That old thing? No one has come out of it in years. But I’m sure someone lives there.”

“How are you so sure?” Spencer asked.

“They get a lot of mail. There’s always a van that comes every morning, stays for a couple of minutes and then leaves.”

“A white van?” You asked and the lady nodded. You looked at Spencer and he had the same expression. You thanked the lady and grabbed your phone while you were walking back to the car.

“Y/n.” Hotch said on the phone.

“We talked to a lady and found out that a white van comes to a house down the road every morning.” You said while getting inside the car.

“Can you see the house and notice if anyone is inside?”

“No, the house in front of it hides it perfectly.”

“Ok. Approach it and wait for a response. Be careful. Keep me posted.”

You hanged the phone call and told Spencer the orders Hotch gave you. He nodded and just when you were about to open the door, you heard a car driving to you. That’s when you saw a van passing you by and going trough the branches.

“Didn’t the woman told us they came every morning?” Spencer asked.

“What’s so special about today?”

“I’ll call Hotch.” He said and you didn’t take your eyes off the van.

It was moving slowly and then you lost it because of the house in front of it. You sighed and then heard Spencer talking to Hotch.

“He says that we stick with the original order, if there’s nothing to hide. They won’t panick.” You nodded and got out of the car.

Once you were close enough to the house you saw the van parked next to the porche. There was completely silence taking over your surroundings and you got closer to Spencer. You stood in front of the door and knocked on it. But no response. Knocked on it again and no response.

“FBI, open up.” You said and still, no response. That’s when you heard a noise coming from the van and you walked towards it. A louder noise came to your ears and you pulled out your gun, Spencer did the same and walked towards the door of the van, you nodded when he looked at you. But when he was about to open the door, the van started and it drove backwards.

“Stop!” You didn’t want to shot the van because maybe whoever was inside could be of help.

But the van, instead of driving away, it drove into the trees and smoke started to come out of if.

You walked towards it next to Spencer, with your gun out. Once you got next to the van you headed to the door and Spencer walked to the other side.

“FBI! Get out of the van with your hands where I can see them!” You yelled but no noise came out of the van. “Spencer, I’m going in.” You said and he nodded.

You opened the door and quickly pointed your gun. Nobody was in the front seat. There was a curtain that covered the back of the van, so you slowly grabbed it and then quickly pulled. A man was laying there in pain and you pointed your gun towards him. It was the man from the bonfire.

“Don’t move!” You yelled and you heard Spencer ran to you. You walked towards the man and handcuffed him. “You have some explanation to do, buddy.” You said and got out of the van.

***

“There’s no way this kid could pulled out an abduction by himself.” Hotch said while the team watched Morgan interview him.

He couldn’t say a word and you noticed his hands were shaking. He looked like he was under a drug and he consumed way more than his body could handle. Hotch was right, but something didn’t add up.

“Then I don’t know what to think anymore. There’s no more clues.” You said and sighed.

You felt frustrated. This never happened to you, you always knew your next move. You were always ahead of time and never felt like the case was winning you, but this time, it was.

You walked out of the room and felt Spencer follow you. “Hey..” he said and you felt his hands touch your arms. “Don’t let it get to you, we are going to find her.”

“Did I just waist time by going after this guy?” Spencer shook his head and got in front of you.

“You’re doing the best you can, Y/n. We all are.”

“And sometimes that’s not enough, and that sucks.” Spencer nodded and hugged you.

“Yeah, our job sucks sometimes.” He said and you let your head rest in his shoulder.

“I don’t know why I’m letting it get to me so much, I’m not usually like this.” You said.

“It’s ok, kids cases can be difficult sometimes.”

You slowly nodded and tried to keep yourself together and continue with the case.

After a couple of hours trying to get the kid to talk, Hotch decided to let him go because he didn’t fit the profile and there was no way a kid like him could commit something so difficult like an abduction. And he was right.

You offered yourself to take the kid back to the house, and Spencer told you he was not going to let you go alone. So, when everything was ready, you got to the car and started to drive it back to the house.

The ride was silent and you could feel the kid looking at you most of the time. But it wasn’t a serious look, he had sweet in his eyes, but you don’t want to let him know that you noticed that, because that could be pretended.

Once you arrived at the house, you let the kid out and went to the door to knock on it again to see if anyone was there. And this time, a woman open the door. He had a messy bun and had cleaning clothes on.

After the woman let Spencer and you in, you explained the situation and the woman nodded. “You know, I’m sorry he did that. I told him a million times to not drive that van.”

The woman put his arm around the kid’s shoulder and you noticed he flinched for a second. You looked at Spencer, and for the look on his face you knew he saw the same thing.

Something about this house and the woman made your suspicious about the situation go up.

“Ben, why don’t you go to your room and let me talk to the agents?” The woman said and he slowly got up from the couch and Spencer did the same thing.

“It’s alright if I go with him? You know, for kids like him this situations can be a little bit traumatic, I just want to let him know it’s alright.” He said and the woman hesitated, but then she nodded.

Once he was behind the woman he gave you a look letting you know that he also thinked that something was wrong.

“Does he get in trouble a lot?” You asked once Spencer and Ben were out of the living room.

“Yeah, sometimes. But he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t understand why he does stuff, you know?” She said and you felt like she wasn’t telling the complete truth. “He’s been like this since he was a kid, it’s hard for me. I’ve been his tutor since his mother passed away.”

“And what about his father?” You asked and looked around. The were no photos. No mother, no father, not even her and Ben.

“He left his mother when he found out she was pregnant. He was a bastard. A told Lily to stay away from that man. But she never listened.”

“How did you knew his mother?”

“We were best friends.” She said quickly. “I knew here since I can remember. I’m Ben’s godmother.” You noticed that it was barely any reaction in her face.

If she was so close to his mother, how come there’s no pictures of her?

“I’m going to check on Ben, if he’s alone with strangers he gets a little bit nervous.” She said and you slowly nodded.

Once she was gone, you got up and started to look for details in her living room. Everything was so clean, for a house that was surrounded by trees and dirt it was very difficult to keep the house clean. But there was definitely not sight of dust. When you were about to walk to the kitchen you heard a noise coming from the back of the house and Spencer came into your mind.

You walked towards the noise and saw the kid laying on the floor, but he was not hurt, he was shaking more than before.

“Hey, Ben, you’re ok?” You entered the room and your eyes went immediately to the body that was laying on the floor.

“Spencer!” Before you could do anything else, something hit you hard on the head and you fell on your knees.

The pain in your head came like a fast truck and you closed your eyes trying to get over the pain. You tried to pulled out your gun but the same thing that hit you before, made it’s way to your arm and you screamed in pain. That’s when you noticed the woman trying to get your gun. When she did it, she throw it across the room where you noticed Spencer’s gun was also there. She hit you again on your back and this time, you fell entirely on the floor.

“You’re being more difficult than this one over here.” She pointed to Spencer. “One hit and he was all over the floor. Men. They are weak. But you... you are strong.” The pain in your head was getting harder to ignore and everything was becoming blurry. She tried to hit you again but you avoided it by moving to you side, and then punched her in her knee with your foot.

You tried to go towards your gun but she hit you again in the back. This woman was extremely strong. The pain in your back was hard to ignore and you coughed. You noticed blood on the floor and touched your head, your hands were covered in blood.

The woman walked to the guns and grabbed them. Walked away for a second and then she came back, with nothing but a baseball bat on her hands.

“Oh, you’re a really trying hard to stay awake. I like that.” She said and you remembered that Ben was still in the room. You were trying to get his attention but the woman got in front of him, kicking you in the face with her foot. You hit the floor by the impact and everything was starting to get black. You moved again and you noticed the woman was getting frustrated.

“I’m starting to get bored with you! Go to fucking sleep!” She hit you again in the back and your insides moved. You pretended to black out, so you could see what the woman was going to do. “Finally!” She said. You heard her walked to the other room and you slightly opened your eyes. Ben was still shaking but this time he was looking at you. You tried to move but the pain made it impossible.

You locked eyes with Ben and you noticed he was trying to say something to you. He slowly moved his hands and pointed to the floor with his index finger. When you were trying to understand what he was saying, you heard that the woman was coming back so you closed your eyes.

“C’mon, Ben, we’re going to continue with our daily routine. Just because this two stupid agents are here, I’m not going to stop. I’m pretty sure they are not going to wake up before we get back.” She said and you heard two people heading out the room. You waited for the van to start and drove away, before you open your eyes and try to move. The pain was still there but this time you were able to get up.

“Spencer..” you tried to say but the pain inside of you made it so difficult. You slowly walked outside and noticed that your car was still there.

You lifted Spencer and you screamed in pain. Once he was up, you noticed blood where his head was. You felt a tear coming down your face and you didn’t know if it was for the pain you were feeling or for Spencer. Probably both.

You walked towards your car and carefully left Spencer in the back seat. But when you were about to opened your door, you noticed a door that leaded to an outside basement. You remembered Ben pointing to the floor and it hit you. He was telling you to go to the basement.

You hesitated, should you trust him?

But the woman was gone, so you decided to go and check it out. You pulled out the gun you had hidden in your leg, and walked slowly to the door, trying to not scream in pain.

You walked down the stairs once you opened the door and grabbed the flashlight you had on your back pocket.

Clothes were all over the place and the smell of blood came into your nose.

“Hello?” A kid’s voice said and you looked to where it came from.

“Julia?” You asked and the kid coughed.

“Yeah.” You walked to her and pointed your flashlight at her. She had bruises all over her arms and legs.

“Julia.” You kneeled down at her. “Hi, I’m Y/n, I work for the FBI. You’re safe now. Can you walk sweetie?” She nodded and when you gently grabbed her arm you noticed needle marks on her arm. She was drugged.

Once you walked to your car, you noticed Spencer was still not awake and that made your heart sink. That was not good.

You helped Julia get in the car and you got in after everything was ready.

You started the car and drove quickly out of there. You looked at Julia and she was falling asleep.

“No! No! Julia, don’t go to sleep. Don’t let the drugs take over your body, sweetie.” You said quickly and tried to drove as fast as you could.

You felt blood coming down your face and tears started to drop down your cheeks. “Spencer! Wake up! Please!” You tried to control your emotions but the pain you felt inside made you break down. “Spencer!”

You remembered the car phone and you marked Hotch’s number.

“Y/n? Where are you?” He said and you noticed the concern in his tone.

“Hotch! Hotch! I need you to listen to me! I have Julia with me, it was the kid’s godmother. There’s no time to explain, but Spencer and I are really hurt and I’m heading to the hospital. Julia was drugged.” You said as quickly as possible and tried to keep your breathing normal.

“Y/n, which hospital?” He asked.

“No! Hotch, listen to me! I’ve got this, you go with the team after the woman. It’s the same van, I think they are going after another kid. You go after her, Hotch.”

“Y/n! I’m not going to let you do this alone! Where are you? Tell me, that’s an order!”

“I’m sorry, Hotch.” You hanged the call and the tears were coming fast down your face.

When you arrived at the hospital, you left the car and ran inside.

“Please! Help!” You said and tried to get anyone’s attention.

“Doctor!” A woman yelled and got close to you.

“The car! Outside!” You said but felt your stomach shut down at the pain. The last thing you heard was people runing outside.

***

You opened your eyes and immediately felt the pain in your body appeared again. You tried to sat down but a lot of cables were connected to you so that made it impossible.

“Hey, hey” Emily said next to you. “You need to rest.”

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked.

“He’s ok. He’s in the next room.” She said with a half smile.

“I need to see him.” You tried to disconnect the cables but Emily was quick and stopped you.

“He’s fine. I promise you.”

“What about the little girl?”

“She’s fine. You saved her life. Hers and Spencer’s.” You were about to ask another question but Emily stopped you “Yes, we got her.” You slowly nodded.

You closed your eyes and your body immediately fell asleep.

You opened your eyes once again and this time the person who was there with you was Garcia.

“Hi, sweet girl, how you feeling?” She asked you once she got up and was close to you.

“I’m better now.” You said and gave her a little smile. You drank from your glass of water you had on your side table and heard someone walk inside the room. It was Hotch.

“I’m going to let you two talk.” She said giving you a smile and walked out of the room.

“Hotch, I’m sorry.”

“You ignored my order.” He said with a serious face and you looked down. You were preparing yourself to hear him fire you but what he said next, surprised you. “You risked your life to save others. And at the same time, helped us catch the unsub. Now, I don’t know how you’re still alive, I have to be honest. But I do know that thanks to you, one of my agents and a little girl are alive. You saved them, Y/n.” He gave you a little smile and you gave him one back.

“You’re not going to fire me?”

He shook his head “No, but I do know that you’re going to make the right decision.”

You looked at him confused but he walked out of the room.

You let your hand rest on your stomach and closed your eyes. That’s when you heard your phone buzz and looked at it.

“Your period it late: four weeks!” You read on the little screen. You never gave much thought into it. You were used to getting your period late, for the stress you felt at work, it was common. But this time you felt different.

So, you decided to call Garcia and ask her for a little favor.

***

“Spencer..” you said once the doctors let you two walked out of the room to see each other. You walked towards him and gave him a soft hug. You were still in pain and didn’t want to mess things up for the two of you. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. But the headache doesn’t go away.” He said and gave you a little smile. “Does Maxim know?”

You shook your head. “I never tell him when I’m at the hospital, it’s pretty often with this job.” You let out a little laugh “I don’t want to concern him.”

Spencer nodded and hugged you once again. “You saved my life.” He said almost in a whisper.

“Of course, I would never hesitate.” You said in the same tone as him.

“Next time, it’s my turn.” He said jokingly but you didn’t laugh. You had another thing in mind.

“You already did.” He looked you in the eyes “You make me happy, Spencer.” He gave you a little smile and united his lips with yours. “I think the universe is telling me to stop.” You said once the kiss was over.

“Maybe.” He said and gently grabbed your cheeks. “This is our job.”

“Spencer, I’m not talking about our job.” You said and Spencer lifted his left eyebrow confused.

You reached your back pocket and grabbed the positive pregnancy test. He looked at it and it took him a second to get it together.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked in a whisper and you nodded. You were afraid of his answer but he smiled went as bigger as his face allowed it. He had tears coming down his face and that made you teared up. He grabbed your cheeks and gave you a big kiss. “I’m going to be a father.” He said with excitement.

“And I’m going to be a mother.” You said and you let out a little smile but then reality just hit you. You were going to be a mother. “I don’t even know how to be one.” Your face changed with fear and Spencer made you look up to him.

“Hey, hey. I don’t know either, how to be a father. But we’ll figure it out together. I’ll read as many books as I can in 9 months and...”

“That’s probably a lot.” You said and let out a little laugh.

He nodded giving a little smile “The important thing is that we’re a team. We have Max too. He’s a little genius, he’s going to be a great uncle.”

“Oh my god, the baby’s father and uncle are both nerds, it’s destiny is already written.” You said jokingly and Spencer smiled at you.

He united his lips with yours and hugged you. “You make me so happy, Y/n. And I can’t imagine my life without you.” He kissed you again. “You’re my entire world. And I can’t believe your mine. You’re so damn beautiful... I can wait to meet this little baby and give it this awesome life. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, my little trained assasin.”

***

Well, here’s the ending! Did I cry when I finished it!? Yes, absolutely. I hope y’all liked it and you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This has been amazing. Again, thank you so much for every like, comment and reblog. It means the world to me. So, thank you. See your later :)

taglist; @itsarayofsunshine @whothefuckstolemykeds @haykayhesson @introvertedsin @mylovehes @infires420 @uwu-sebastianstan @my-life-is-here-soo @spencersdolore @oldspirit @l0ve-0f-my-life @nanocoool @throughparisallthroughrome @aerialdinosaur @enigma-xlii

[themetaphorgirl]

What’s hotchs guilty pleasure? Like there’s gotta be more to him than peanut butter crackers and LaCroix

ahhhhhh there is but I don’t know how I can explain it without getting too deep into my notes...

spoilers under the cut!

okay so

season 1, episode 8: natural born killers

Hotch has this conversation

Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner : You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent. When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive, violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.

Vincent Perotta : "Some people"?

Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner : What's that?

Vincent Perotta : You said "some people grow up to become killers."

Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner : And some people grow up to catch them.

They pretty much implied that Hotch was abused as a kid. And then never talked about it. I’m gonna talk about it.

(Also in canon his dad died when he was young, possibly in front of him, and his mother is never mentioned at except one episode when he says what college she went to.)

Between the abuse (that he’s never adequately dealt with) and his relationship (or lack thereof) with his younger brother, Hotch has become very good at being tough and responsible and never addressing his own feelings. So little things like snacks (that he doesn’t have money for) and hobbies (that he doesn’t have time for) don’t figure into his life very much. 

But I’ll be doing a lot with it! I know he’s coming across as very boring right now, but trust me while I keep writing him! <3

[danyka-fendyr]

Absence of Good

Chapter 3: Everybody Has a Hometown

Okay, so it’s a little late, but like I said last week, I decided not to release a chapter of this last week because I was putting out so many one-shots. I think I should be able to keep up a mostly consistent upload schedule but probably not a specific day. Oh well. Can’t have everything I guess. This chapter is particularly dark for a number of reasons, so I would suggest the faint of heart skip it. Also I’ve been watching a lot of horror movies lately, and so even though I haven’t seen Midsommar yet, I know it’s about a cult so that concept kind of inspired this chapter a little. Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy.

Additional Note: Timeline wise I wanted to keep this pretty vague so while Reid’s self-proclaimed age in this chapter would make this circa season 6, you can imagine him in whatever season you like.

Permanent Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli

AoG Taglist: @pancakefancake @prettyboyspenerrr

Wordcount: 3365

Warnings: Death. Child predators. Child death. Violence. Mentions of sexual assault. Pedophilia. Bad relationship with parents. Mentions of cults.

“Loneliness does not come from having no people around one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself, or from holding certain views which others find inadmissible.”

-Carl Jung

“I’m sorry sir, you said we’re going where?” you said.

“Is there a problem, Y/L/N?” 

Hotch’s face never moved past ambivalence, but if it did, he would have been raising an eyebrow at you right now. He probably didn’t think that was workplace appropriate. Rossi, from across the table, had no such scruples and was openly making a face. The perks of seniority.

“No, sir. My apologies.”

“Alright then. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said,

Spencer gave you a questioning look as you headed for your go bag, but all you offered in return was a noncommittal smile. The less everyone knew about this, the better. The last thing you needed was a big fuss.

You boarded the plane with the same mindset, hoping that your earlier surprise and commentary had blown over. Even if it hadn’t though, Hotch was not one to waste time on trivialities. Before anyone could ask you anything, Hotch was talking about the case.

“Three children, all in 3 weeks. Our unsub’s cooling-off period is basically non-existant.”

“That’s not characteristic of a preferential offender. They usually don’t have a big enough victim pool for that kind of speed,” you said.

“True. The victims cross gender lines as well. One girl, two boys. No way our guy is a preferential offender,” Morgan said.

“Assuming it is a guy,” Emily chimed in.

“You think it’s a woman?” you asked.

“It’s possible. Anything is on the table with an unsub that crosses the gender line,” she replied.

“It could be a woman, but statistically it’s far more likely to be a man. Men committed 89.5% of homicides in the United States of America between the years of 1980 and 2008, so while I certainly don’t think we should rule out the possibility, I wouldn’t put any concrete gender on our offender yet,” Spencer said.

“Alright, so we’ve got a guy with no cooling-off period who’s killing kids. Why? Is there any evidence of sexual assault?” JJ asked.

“The M.E.’s report doesn’t mention any on the victim’s examined so far,” Rossi said.

“Maybe it is a woman,” you theorized. “Children would be small enough to overpower, and the lack of sexual assault suggests a female unsub.”

“You may be right,” Hotch said. “We’ll know more when we get there and can examine the bodies firsthand. Spencer and Y/N, you can work with the M.E. on this one. Morgan, Prentiss, you head to the last dumpsite. Rossi, you’re with JJ. You two head to the previous two dumpsites, see if there’s anything left you might be able to find. We should be landing soon.”

As soon as your feet hit the tarmac, you felt a sense of dread. Part of it was, of course, your impending trip to the M.E. You weren’t a fan at the best of times, but kids...kids were hard. Very, very hard. It went beyond that though.

The smell of the air, the wind tugging softly at your hair, the feeling of the ground underneath your feet. The sad truth was that there was nothing you hated more than being home.

You were quiet as you got in the car, keeping your eyes on your phone. Your parents knew you were here by now, and they wanted you to come over for dinner when your case was finished. That was the last thing you wanted. You put your phone away, deciding to stare out the window at the too-familiar scenery instead.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked.

He was driving and you were in the passenger seat on the way to the M.E., which unfortunately gave him an uninhibited view of your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just not looking forward to this.” Excuses, excuses.

“Yeah, me neither. This is going to be a rough case,” Spencer admitted.

“You’re telling me.”

“I wish I could say it gets easier, but...”

“When this job gets easier, they won’t need us anymore.” you sighed.

“Yeah. Something like that. I wouldn’t mind a world that doesn’t need the BAU though. Would you?”

“No. No, I suppose I wouldn’t. What would you do, if you weren’t in the BAU?” you asked.

“Me? Well...it’s kind of stupid.”

“No such thing.” you turned in your seat, facing your body towards him.

“When I was a kid, I had this dream...I wanted to be a magician, you know?”

“Wait, you can do magic tricks?” A grin curved across your face, utterly delighted.

“Uh, yeah. When the occasion calls for it.” Spencer lifted a hand off the wheel to rub the back of his neck.

“That’s amazing! Will you do one for me sometime?” 

Spencer glanced over at you, alert and smiling, looking happier than you had since boarding the plane.

“...Sure.” 

He smiled softly at you, and it was your turn to be embarrassed.

“So, what about you. If not the FBI, then what?” He asked.

Oh boy. This case was just going to be a walk down memory lane, wasn’t it?

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a psychologist or something.”

“That’s what you wanted to be growing up? A psychologist?”

You knew it was bad when Spencer Reid was judging you for your goals being too serious and academic.

“I mean, not as a kid, obviously, but when I was in college I thought about it,” you deflected.

“So what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“It’s dumb,” you said.

“No such thing.”

“I hate it when you use my own words against me, Dr. Reid.”

He just waited, grinning rather cheekily.

“Okay, mister, you want to know what I wanted to be when I was a kid? I wanted to be a singer, alright? I wanted to learn how to play guitar and write my own songs and play sold-out stadiums. Like I said, dumb kid’s dream.”

“That’s not dumb. I mean, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not exactly up to date on music or...pop culture in general, I guess, but that’s not dumb. It sounds awesome, actually. I didn’t know you could play the guitar.”

“I can’t,” you said. “I said I wanted to learn, not that I did.”

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “Parents didn’t think it was a good idea. I got piano lessons instead. They were...educational.”

Fun would have been the wrong word.

“So your parents were strict?”

“Not exactly. They would like you though,” you said, steering the conversation away from yourself.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I have dinner with them this week probably and I kind of wish I could download even half the information in your brain so I could generate some truly impressive dinner table conversation.”

“I could make you some flashcards if you like.”

You laughed. “Thanks, Spence. I don’t think it would be as good as the real deal though.”

“Well, I could always come. The entire team could show. Make it a party,” he joked.

You went silent, thinking about it. “Gosh, there would be nothing I would love more than that. Sadly, you guys won’t even be in town anymore.”

“Anymore? I thought you were planning on flying out to see your parents?” Spencer asked, confused.

“Why would I when they’re right here?”

“This is your hometown?” 

“Sure is. It kind of sucks, right? One too many serial killers for my taste, if I’m honest with you.”

“Yeah. You may have a point there,” Spencer agreed, parking the car.

“So what are we looking at here?” You asked the M.E.

“This is a bit unorthodox, all things considered. You probably get that a lot though.” You waited patiently for him to continue. “It looks like there are no signs of sexual assault, but there is some..unique physical mutilation.”

“Unique how?” Spencer asked.

The M.E. moved towards the bodies. “See these cuts here? The marks make up a pattern. These weren’t done to kill. They’re more ritualistic in nature. The cause of death was actually a stab wound to the chest with acute pericardial tamponade. Or in other words, they were stabbed in the heart with a very long, very sharp knife.”

“What is this here, on the left shoulderblade?” Spencer asked, looking up from where he was bent over the body of the newest victim.

“It looks like...a tattoo of a turtle. Do the other victims have these?”

You examined the other two bodies, finding the same markings. They were surprisingly artistic, all things considered.

“These weren’t done by an amateur,” you mumbled.

“No. These were definitely ritualistic killings. We should have been called in sooner.”

You headed back to the team with your information, Know that you knew more about the bodies, it was becoming very clear what kind of unsub you were dealing with. Now there was a new question.

“Is it possible we’re dealing with multiple unsubs here?” Morgan asked.

“It could be. Given the ritualistic nature of these killings, this could be some kind of cult. Reid, what do you think the significance of the turtle is?” Hotch asked.

“Well, turtles popularly represent longevity, given their own lifespans, so it’s entirely possible that our unsub or unsubs think that they can achieve immortality with these killings.”

“What about the cuts on the body? You said those were in a pattern?” Emily asked.

“Yeah. Nothing decipherable, but we’re still working on it,” you said.

“Well, keep working. Morgan, I want you and JJ to work with Garcia and see what you can come up with on the tattoo angle. See if you can find anyway who would be able to do work like this. Garcia, I also want you looking into any local cults or societies. Anything you find that sends up red flags, send it to Prentiss. Prentiss, Rossi, you two can check out whatever Garcia sends you. Got it?”

Everyone hummed their assent, and you had the unfortunate job of getting to go back to the pictures sent from the M.E. It had been hours of staring at the carvings on the children’s stomach and backs and several cups of coffee before you started to get an idea. Concerned it might be half-hallucination, you called Spencer over from his own space.

“Is it just me, or do these marks kind of look like a tree? Long and straight on the bottom and then they curve up and out, like branches. Are you seeing that too?”

Spencer tilted his head, staring at them. “Actually...that might make sense. On the one hand, there’s a correlation to the tree of life. But on the other hand, turtles were also historically a symbol of mother nature. Which means...”

“Which means we might not be dealing with a bunch of Nicolas Flamel groupies after all. This could be the work of a group of eco-terrorists.”

“We have to tell Hotch.”

You made short work of the case once you realized the people you were actually after. Between the tattoo artist connection and the fact that your town did not have that many cults (though definitely more than you would have liked), it didn’t take you long to find your group. Apparently, they thought that if they sacrificed 8 people, children specifically for their purity, they could cleanse the Earth and...eliminate global warming or something. You had sort of stopped listening after the, “Yeah, we definitely did it,” part.

“Is Y/N not coming?” JJ asked, slinging her go-bag over her shoulder.

“Nope, afraid not. I have to have a family dinner.” you shrugged, hoping that if you played casual they would just...forget about it.

“You forgot to tell everyone?” Spencer spoke up, and you froze. “Y/N told me she wanted everyone to come to dinner tonight. Figured it would be fun to have a team dinner and a family dinner all at once.”

“Awww, little mama, you shouldn’t have.” 

Derek smiled, and you mustered a smile back. On the one hand, you were grateful to Spencer. You had certainly not been looking forward to dinner with your family. However...you also weren’t sure you wanted your family anywhere near the team. 

“Well, I know the best places to eat in town, so whoever is down...”

“Count me in,” Rossi said.

“I’m always available for good food.” That was Prentiss, giving you a knowing look that you would probably have to deal with later.

“Will and the boys weren’t actually expecting me home until tomorrow, and I just can’t miss a one time opportunity like this.” JJ smiled at you.

“Looks like you have the whole team.”

“Awesome!” Oh, this could go so badly for you.

On the way to the restaurant, you texted your parents to let them know there would be company. The place you had chosen to eat was a little hole in the wall diner with great burgers and a cute 50′s theme, and lucky for you, it was never very busy. You might have to push a few tables together, but there would be space for you.

You had all stopped off at the hotel beforehand, and you were nervous now that someone would comment on your appearance like they had all obviously wanted to when they first saw you. You didn’t look like your normal self. You looked...muted. Like someone had washed out all the color and replaced it with a solid layer of the most boring shade of beige. Rossi had saved you though with an elegant compliment, saying that you looked as lovely as ever. The man certainly had tact.

Hotch held the door open as you all entered the diner, and it didn’t take you long to find your parents. 2 people sitting at a table for 9. They stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Sweetheart!” 

Your mother smiled warmly, getting up to hug you. You father followed shortly after, and you introduced your team.

“It’s nice to meet all of you. Y/N talks about you a lot,” your father said.

“When she calls.” 

There was a hint of sincere bitterness to your mother’s joke, and you forced a brighter smile in an effort to fight it off.

“Oh, Mom, you know how it is. Busy all the time,” you said, letting Spencer pull out your chair for you before you both sat down.

The poor boy had, of course, no idea what he’d done. Now your Dad was staring at him skeptically, like Spencer was trying to get into your pants. Heaven forbid he have manners.

“So, Mr. Reid, what’s your role on the team?” your Dad asked.

“He’s a Dr., Dad. It’s Dr. Reid. And he’s our resident genius.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t mean to speak over Spencer like that, and you knew it was rude, but the urge to defend him had risen up so strong that it had just come out. You hoped he would forgive you, and you guessed by the soft smile he gave you that he did.

“What are you a doctor in, then?” your Dad grumbled.

“I actually have 3 PhD’s, sir. In mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

Maybe you had no right to look so proud, but you did anyway.

Your mother’s eyebrows shot up. “Impressive! And how old are you?”

You nearly groaned. In sharp contrast to your father, your mother was now trying to play the matchmaker. Joy.

“I’m 29.”

“Our boy wonder here is pretty impressive.” Morgan looked just as proud as you when he said it, giving you a smirk you didn’t understand.

Your Dad did not look happy about this development, so you spoke before he could.

“I mean, the whole team is impressive really. It’s crazy getting to work with all of you.” You laughed a little bit.

The conversation continued easier after that, steering away from work and into more mundane things like your childhood. In fact, everything was going fine. Or it was until your dear old Dad brought up your brother.

“You know, my only regret is that your brother couldn’t be here tonight. It’s a shame he’s away on business. He works hard though. Does important work.”

You did your best fake of a pleasant smile. “Of course.”

Your brother’s work was far from important. He worked as an insurance guy, for Pete’s sake. Your parents would never forgive you for being absent so often, but your brother? Oh, he could do no wrong.

“What? Do you disagree, Y/N?” The confrontation in your father’s tone was thinly veiled.

“No, of course not,” you said blandly. “I’m sure whatever he’s doing tonight is important. Pass the ketchup?”

Your mother gave it to you, leaving your father free to engage in his favorite activity. Picking a fight.

“I mean, can’t really get mad at him, can we? He calls home all the time, comes by for dinner frequently. He’s a good kid. Very successful.” You could practically taste the implication that you weren’t.

You refused to rise to the bait.

“Yeah, yeah. He’s definitely got the time for all that.” You nodded, unable to resist a subtle dig.

“Oh, and you don’t? Not 5 minutes to phone your mother?”

You kept your voice tranquil and cool. “I called her last week, Dad.”

“Didn’t call to let us know you were in town. Had to find out from that friend of yours, what was her name? The blonde?”

Gosh, did he have to do this now?

“Sorry. I’ll try to give you a better heads-up next time. This case was-”

“Oh, forget the case.” Your Dad rolled his eyes. “It’s always about the cases with you. Are your cases more important than your family?”

You grit your teeth. Fine then, if you were going to do this...

“No more important, I’m sure, then whatever the golden child is up to tonight.” You kept your tone even, but your voice was icy cool.

“Don’t give me that lip young lady! Your brother is a man, doing important work to provide-”

“Provide for who, Dad?” You interrupted, letting some of your frustration through. “He doesn’t have a wife or kids or a girlfriend. He’s certainly not sending money home to you. So tell me, Dad, who is providing for himself such a noble pursuit? Or was the more notable part of that statement that he’s a man? Which means it’s okay that he’s married to his work?”

“You know what? You’re not exactly getting hitched either, so don’t criticize your brother’s relationships. You have no right. And secondly, he’s a man doing good, honest work, and that’s the more notable part. If he’s married to his work right now, so what? He has time.”

“Oh yes, all the time in the world. Me, on the other hand, I should count my days. Sucks to be the oldest, huh? You just waste away before everyone’s eyes.” You sighed dramatically.

“Listen here-”

“Darling, please. We have guests.” Finally, your mother interrupted.

Your Dad gave you a glare that said this wasn’t over but settled back down, going back to his french fries.

The rest of dinner was awkward, to say the least. The conversation never quite returned to what it was, and you were glad when they brought the check. You were also glad when, under the table, Spencer squeezed your hand. A comforting gesture, a moment to say that he was with you, even if he wasn’t about to openly get involved in your family business without your consent. You appreciated that.

You were all more than relieved when the night was over, bidding your parents goodbye and watching them get into their car and drive away. You gave them a final wave as a send-off, despite your Dad only affording you a stormy glare.

JJ broke the silence. “So...your Dad’s kind of sexist, huh?” 

You snorted. “Yeah, something like that. You guys want ice cream? I know an awesome place, and we still have time...”

“Pretty girl, when am I ever going to turn down an ice cream cone?” Derek grinned at you.

“Sweet. Let’s go!”

The rest of the night had a much different tone than the one you’d started with, and you had to admit it. You just might have to thank Spencer Reid for this night after all. He could be a bit of a genius.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”

-Harper Lee