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ptersparkers · 1 year

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reckless (aaron hotchner)

summary: After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

notes: hello. this is singlehandedly the longest fic i’ve ever written (like 21.7K words). i didn’t intend for it to be this long and i tried to see where i could break it up, but i think it flows better if it’s in one piece. happy reading! x

(edit: adding in that the reader is fem)

a huge thank you to @hotchsdoormat for being the best person alive and for listening to me rant about this piece. love u forever.

warnings: typical criminal minds speak, kidnapping and mentions of broken arms and ribs and typos, probably.

***

Years of dreaming of becoming a federal agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit led to the beginning of an illustrious career solving crimes and traveling across the country. It had only taken guest lectures by none other than the BAU themselves for the idea of catching killers and outsmarting them to do so to seep its way to the back of your mind.

You just wish you liked your job.

You like your work. You like walking into the office with a sense of purpose and you like profiling bad people and saving the good ones. You even like the shitty coffee that never seems to run out and you don’t mind the early call times and the sudden departures.

What you don’t like, however, is your boss. But you know that’s just because he doesn’t like you.

In your two years with the BAU, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Aaron throw a smile in your direction if it wasn’t meant for someone standing next to you. Two years of Aaron being dismissive and choosing to sit farthest from you in the conference room and on the jet. Two years of watching him foster friendships with your coworkers without sparing you a second glance. But work is work.

You’re an outsider. It’s almost what you expected.

Emily’s the first one to tell you that you don’t need to take it personally. Her rocky start with the BAU and stories of learning that trust takes time eased your worries for a while, but Aaron never seemed to give you the time of day aside collaborating with the rest of the team. Everyone says he’s notorious for being stoic and intimidating, but you don’t see it that way. In your mind, he loathes you.

Which is unfortunate, because you liked Aaron the most.

The guest lecture had sent you into a spiral of researching recently closed BAU cases and watching hours of press conferences led by Aaron. You appreciated the way he spoke about his work. He spoke about it like it was his due diligence and you liked that he treated each victim and their loved ones with grace and kindness.

It kills you to know that he doesn’t trust you despite doing your best in the field. Your six month review approached and you passed with flying colors, earning a short-lived celebration from Erin Strauss before she exited Aaron’s office. But he kept quiet the entire examination, aside from putting his own input with how you acted in the field. He said you were diligent, followed orders well enough, and could listen to directions. It was the most you’d ever heard Aaron speak about you, but the swell of pride didn’t last long.

Sometimes people compare the two of you when it comes to your worth ethic. Last ones to leave, can’t be bothered when focused, and the need to excel in your career field while downplaying your contribution. Perhaps the need to do good in the world catapulted you into considering a role where you’d be actively helping others instead of a career where it would be too late.

But every time you sit at your desk, opposite of Aaron’s office, you find yourself frowning. The blinds are always closed and you always wondered if Aaron could feel you staring at the emblem on his door when you wondered how you managed to keep your job.

“I can hear your brain all the way from here,” Derek says, leaning against the stall of your desk. You avert your eyes from the door to his voice. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you say.

Derek gives you a look. “I know it’s not nothing, sweetness.”

“Just tired,” you lie, “I slept poorly last night.”

Your gaze focuses on the files in front of you and Derek looks between you and Aaron’s office. He does his best not to let you know it’s been affecting him too; everyone’s noticed how Aaron’s been giving you the short end of the stick and that his wavering trust hasn’t disappeared like it had for the rest of them. It doesn’t do any good for team morale.

For a moment in the beginning of your time with the BAU, you think he’s asking you to prove yourself. You’re new, you need to get used to team dynamics, and you need to prove yourself capable before he can trust that you’d have everyone’s back. You understand that.

What you don’t understand, however, is why he treats you like a first-day agent after your contributions.

“Alright,” Derek says, knowing better than to pry you out of your work. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

He leaves you momentarily when Aaron steps out of his office. You try not to look up, but it’s hard to ignore him when your desk is pointed in front of his door. He’s wearing a classic black suit with a red tie, belt and shoes to match. You know what the look on his face means–there’s a case.

“Everyone in the conference room,” Aaron pointedly says.

Derek finishes pouring two cups of coffee and brings it over to the room where he sees you sitting in front of the screen. You thank him for the cup as he sits beside you and Reid gives you a small ‘good morning’ before everyone files into the conference room and their attentions are focused on the faces on the screen.

“Two children have gone missing in Los Angeles, California,” Penelope begins. “Gracie and Olivia McCormack, four and six respectively, were last seen in their shared bedroom last night and LAPD has contacted us to help find them.”

“Looks like the mother reported going into their bedroom to wake them up, only to find them missing,” you say, frowning.

“Is the father in the picture?” JJ asks.

“Jaqueline, the mother, divorced Scott McCormack before her youngest was born,” Penelope informs.

“New flame?” Emily wonders.

“Yes ma’am. Logan James.” Penelope presses a few buttons and Jaqueline and Logan appear on the screen. “This is where it gets tricky.”

“It looks like both Scott and Logan were abusive towards Jaqueline during their marriages,” David reads from the file.

“Jaqueline’s pretty familiar with the local hospital,” you mutter.

“We can talk about the file and start to strategize on our way to LA,” Aaron says, packing his file in his go-bag, which is already in hand. “Wheels up in thirty.”

***

The six hour plane ride doesn’t feel as nauseating as you had predicted. Your second cup of coffee sits on the table in front of you as your file is displayed on the surface, along with everyone else. Departure wasn’t terrible, mild turbulence followed but nothing you couldn’t handle. The armrest becomes your best friend on these flights.

“Did Scott kidnap Gracie and Olivia because he wants his kids?” Derek says aloud.

“Most likely,” Reid adds. “Scott’s a migrant construction worker. I can’t imagine anyone letting him raise two children without a steady home or income, though.”

“So he’s angry at the loss of his children and wants them back,” Aaron says. “Garcia, does Scott have any background of domestic abuse prior to his marriage with Jaqueline?”

“One count of domestic battery with a former girlfriend, but his childhood tells us a whole different story.”

“What is it, babygirl?” Derek beckons.

“Scott was born to heroin addicts and they’d leave him in hotel rooms for days while they tried to rob local convenience stores for money, presumably for their next high. Poor kid, he never stood a chance.”

“Damn,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine growing up like that.”

“He was put into the care of his grandparents on his mother’s side until he was six and–oh, ouch–he apparently caused too much trouble for himself that his grandparents gave him to the foster care system.”

“I can imagine that abandonment took a toll on Scott,” JJ says.

“Take the kids away from Jacqueline as punishment,” adds Rossi. “Makes sense, especially when Jacqueline was the one to file for divorce.”

“What about Jaqueline’s marriage with Logan? Haven’t we established that Logan was abusive during their marriage?” you ask.

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I think it’s important to consider him in all of this, Sir. If Logan was abusive to Jaqueline throughout their marriage, maybe Scott sees this kidnapping as some sort of effort to save them from harm.”

All eyes are on you now. It makes your skin crawl and you hope you don’t say the wrong thing.

“Go on.”

“If Scott really did take his kids, I don’t know if he did it to get back at her by kidnapping them. It makes more sense that Scott would want to save his children from an abuser. I mean, he knows what it’s like to live with abusive and absent parents. What if Scott wants to protect his children from suffering what he went through?”

“Interesting,” Dave hums. “You’re theorizing that Scott considers this kidnapping as rescuing?”

You nod. “It makes sense. Maybe he has some animosity towards Jaqueline for letting Logan into their lives and retaliates by taking his children away from her because he thinks he’s saving them.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Aaron says pointedly.

“I’m just spitballing,” you say. “I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Well, let’s keep it that way.”

You shut your mouth and revert your eyes back to the file that’s in your lap, desperate for any minute distraction it can give you. The rest of the team is stunned in silence and Spencer tries his best to fill in the awkward silence by reviewing all of the facts that have been listed in the report.

At this moment, you feel small. Aaron’s dismissive attitude makes you feel somewhat inadequate at your job and you find it difficult to remind yourself of all the cases you’ve helped close when your boss has just undermined your work in front of your colleagues.

His coldness towards you is what you don’t get. Aaron has a reputation for maintaining professionalism, which you can appreciate, but it seems like his stoic tendencies extend far beyond keeping it civil in the workplace. It feels like you’ve been isolated and boxed out from day one and despite having gotten to know the rest of the team on a deeper level, you still walk on eggshells around Aaron. It makes you wonder why he hired you at all.

From the other side of the plane, Aaron takes a seat in an empty chair and looks out the window pensively. He knows he’s being hard on you and he knows it’s unfair that he’s treating you much harsher than the others, but Aaron knows that it’s for the best.

When you walked into his office for your initial interview, there was no doubt that you were the perfect candidate to fill in the role as a new profiler. Your past experiences had clued you into profiling and he promised Strauss that your addition to the team would benefit the BAU as a whole.

And Aaron was right. Cases were closing at a higher rate than previously, your quick thinking and problem solving skills aided the capture of many prolific criminals, and it almost felt like you’d been with the team since the beginning.

What Aaron didn’t account for, however, was developing feelings for you.

All it took was a simple undercover operation to see you in a completely different light. The unsub had targeted women who looked like you and you were more than ready to step up to the plate to catch him. It took seeing you in a sleek black dress to make Aaron’s heart lurch out of his chest and make him feel like he was a teenager in love all over again, and he hated it.

He hated feeling this way towards his coworker. For weeks, his mind bounced around the idea of what it might cost the team; your respective positions might cause an interference because of the dating policy set in place and how it would look from the outside. Aaron didn’t want to jeopardize your career by making it seem like you were providing unprofessional favors if news were to come out that you were romantically linked with him. He didn’t want your career to be damaged just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Moreover, Aaron hadn’t felt like this towards anyone since marrying Haley.

He had dated casually but never thought about the possibility of anything serious coming out of it. Aaron thought he might’ve come close to it when he had dated Beth for a while, but her career taking her across the country made him realize how unstable his life already was. Dating became a question of who gets along with Jack and the rest of his family and who is able to handle his frequent absences. His marriage to Haley showed Aaron the downside of traveling all the time and he’d be damned if he made that mistake again.

The idea of liking you in any capacity that wasn’t professional scared Aaron to death. He hates that he’s willing to find any excuse to walk by your desk or strike up a conversation with you if time permitted. He hates that his mind often wanders to a life of domesticity with you. The only logical possibility for him to combat his feelings for you is to keep you at arms length and treat you like he would any of his coworkers, which means keeping your personal lives separate and maintaining professionalism at all times.

It works a little too well and Aaron doesn’t realize it. He misplaces his anger—the frustration of knowing he can’t have you the way he wants you—and you’re at the receiving end. Aaron thinks he’s doing his best by delegating and separating you from him in the field, but he doesn’t realize that it’s causing professional tension because you constantly think you aren’t doing enough to help the team solve cases and catch criminals.

Aaron spends the rest of the flight looking over reports the precinct sent over before the plane lands in Los Angeles. You elect to keep your nose buried in your reports for the fear of looking like you aren’t working hard enough.

***

The Los Angeles weather has cooled down when you land and Aaron has ordered everyone to head to the precinct first thing after touching down. The detectives are kind enough to reserve a room for all of you to work out of and you waste no time setting up the white board with the missing girls and timeline of the abduction.

The stakes are high and you can feel the tension in the room. You aren’t a stranger to cases like these and you know that everyone is trying their best to keep themselves together for the sake of the department and the family of the victims. You try not to read into Aaron’s coldness to you too much. You’ve convinced yourself enough times that it’s the stress of the job and being away from his home that keeps him running on pure stress and adrenaline to prevent you from overthinking your position on his team.

Aaron has you and Spencer stay behind in the precinct to work on the profile and piece together a timeline of the abduction, and you’re more than grateful you don’t have to spend time in the field with him. The relaxation enters your body the section you see him step out of the precinct and Spencer can’t help but pry.

“You okay?” he asks.

You turn around from the white board and your sleeve smudges the freshly written text. The annoyance bubbles up in your chest and you hastily erase the mess you created and rewrite it before turning your attention back to Spencer.

“Stressed out, but otherwise I’m good.”

He pauses. “You’ve seemed that lately, though.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask defensively. “Our job isn’t exactly low-stress.”

“It’s just that every time Hotch enters the room, you stiffen up and you seem to lose your voice, and you play with your nails. It’s your biggest tell, actually.”

You give Spencer a pointed look. “Reid, I did not ask to be profiled.”

“Sorry,” he relents. “I just…look, I care about you and I hate seeing that you feel like you can’t share your ideas with us. Is something bothering you?”

You know Spencer knows. You’re sure the team knows why you’re apprehensive about your work and second guess yourself every time you bring forth a new theory or concept. But it’s hard to admit it out loud when all you’ve done is complain about him in your head and push your feelings aside for the sake of solving cases.

But you know Spencer has always looked out for you after the first time you took a bullet for him a week into the job after barely getting to know each other. It’s the same way that he looks out for you in the field, protecting your cover and being the first to volunteer partnering with you when Aaron asks. He’s keen and perceptive, and you know you can’t hide your feelings from him unless you want to jeopardize another relationship with your coworker.

“I feel like Hotch doesn’t like me,” you say earnestly. “And I mean it in a way that seems almost personal.”

“He’s been pretty distant,” Spencer adds.

You shake your head. “It feels like he doesn’t trust my judgment or values what I have to say unless one of you backs me up. I can’t really tell you when I started to feel this way, but I’ve always felt like I have to walk on eggshells around him or else he’ll fire me.”

“No one’s going to fire you,” Spencer reassures. “You have an exceptional skill at finding unsubs and getting into their heads. It’s quite impressive how you’re able to put yourself in their shoes.”

“Thanks, I think,” you say with a laugh. “But you saw what happened on the plane. Hotch shot down my theory and told me not to jump to any conclusions even though I was just theorizing. I feel like he doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say because he doesn’t think there’s any value in it.”

Spencer pauses. He sees your grip on the dry erase pen and knows how frustrated you feel. He knows you, the way you think, your work ethic, and just how badly you want to save these girls. He also knows how to distract you from your own feelings.

“Then tell me about your theory,” Spencer chides.

“Scott might’ve taken his children as a form of punishment against Jaqueline. Sure, I think that’s a plausible theory to go off of, considering she was the one who filed for divorce. But he was never abusive towards the girls, whereas Logan was abusive to all three of them.”

He smiles when he knows it’s working.

“So you’re thinking that Scott is trying to rescue Gracie and Olivia from further abuse?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “As a parent, I can’t imagine tolerating a stranger abusing your kids. Maybe in Scott’s mind, Jaqueline was allowing Logan to abuse them without realizing he was doing the same to her.”

“The wife had full custody of the kids too,” Spencer adds, opening a case file. “He was only allowed supervised visits with a social worker present if she allowed it to happen and in the time they’ve been divorced, she hadn’t let Scott see them since she and Logan got together.”

“Okay, so Scott had enough and wanted to take matters into his own hands. If his ex-wife won’t take care of the kids and neither will her new husband, it’s up to him to take care of the girls.”

“It looks like Scott’s had a problem with authoritative figures his entire life,” he says, frowning. Spencer turns the case file towards you. “His grandparents were physically and emotionally abusive and social workers did nothing about it. Looks like he was also a truant during his time in foster care.”

“Get this. He’s been fired from multiple construction sites because he couldn’t follow orders,” you read.

“Jacqueline was also the breadwinner of their relationship. I think Scott resents people who hold authority.”

“Scott wants to raise his kids,” you say, snapping your fingers. “It’s a rescue mission because he thinks he can raise them better than she can.”

Spencer grabs his phone and dials Aaron.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“Y/N and I talked more about her theory on the abduction. I think she’s right.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything. You’re almost sure he’s going to tell you to change the profile.

“We’ll meet you at the precinct in fifteen.”

***

You consider yourself lucky that Spencer backs your theory with claims and evidence. Your voice wavers multiple times when Aaron asks you to make your case, and the way he’s looking at you makes you doubt yourself.

But everyone comes to the realization that you’re right. A few conversations with Jacqueline and an interrogation with Logan convinces Aaron that your theory had been the correct one all along. You should feel happy, but you don’t.

You feel like you have to piggyback off of your coworkers and get them to support you before you can make your case heard. You feel like the smallest person in the room when you stand next to seasoned profilers who you’re sure Aaron values more than you. The weight of the world is on your shoulders and you carry it with you every time you formulate new ideas you want to share with the team.

But you don’t dwell on this too long.

Aaron has Spencer comb through security footage of local gas stations while Emily and David talk to Scott’s most recent employer. Derek and JJ are searching his last known whereabouts and searching for the girls, which leaves you and Aaron.

You’re barely able to hear his command. He wants you to talk to Jacqueline and try to coax more information out of her while he connects with Penelope about financial records and possible places he’s hiding the girls. She’s your age and he figures you might connect with her better than JJ did.

Jaqueline is understandably crying when you walk into the room. You hand her a box of tissues upon entering and she doesn’t say anything. She starts to open up after you tell her about yourself, your nieces and nephews, and you show her photos of them to prove yourself. You let her know you’re not a mother and can’t imagine the immense pain she’s going through, but you know what it’s like to care for people and how much it hurts when something bad happens to them.

Slowly, Jaqueline begins to talk. You ask her about her relationship with Scott and Logan, and all the important places that hold significance between the two marriages. She lists off a few and you make a note of it for later. Aaron calls you from the interview when Jaqueline has started to close herself in. He lets her go and gives her his business card in case she wants to talk, but tells her they’ll be in contact soon.

He doesn’t say a word about the interrogation. He just tells you to see if Derek and JJ need help canvassing more area.

Two days later and the team is nowhere near finding Jaqueline’s children. Scott’s previous employer had less than stellar things to say about him and you’re beginning to panic at the thought of your ability to catch him and save the girls. Penelope calls with a development and thinks one of two locations is where Scott might be hiding the children. His trailer in East LA or a small house a friend of his owns.

Aaron dispatches Dave, Emily, and JJ to the trailer while he commands you, Derek, and Spencer to follow him to the house. It’s located off of the freeway off the beaten path and you have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.

Aaron’s driving like he knows something you don’t. You’ve taken a seat in the back with Spencer and listen as Derek points Aaron in the direction of the house. It’s getting dark outside, the sun is just barely above the horizon, and you know everyone has to be quick in order to save the girls if they’re in the house.

LAPD officers drive behind the SUV. Aaron pulls over and you can hear the gravel underneath the tire. You swing the door open with all your might and draw your gun out as the rest of the team does, following Aaron’s orders to follow behind him as they explore the house.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

The floorboards creak underneath you and Aaron tells you he’s going to clear the back of the house while you take the front. Everyone calls a distinctive ‘clear’ and you’re about to breathe out of frustration and ask Aaron if they’ve found the girls at Scott’s trailer when you hear the faint sound of someone crying from behind you.

You’re careful not to step too loudly despite the hardwood floors. Derek finds you and calls out your name but you put your finger to your lips and he silences himself. The sound of feet shuffling sounds incredibly quiet, but you swear you can hear footsteps somewhere behind you.

Spencer and Aaron join the two of you after hearing silence despite calling your names. Derek tells both men to silence themselves as you walk about the room, unsure of what you’re looking for. For the most part, nothing looks out of place. That is, until your hand falls on a set of books that feels much too hollow to contain any pages.

“What is it?” Derek asks from behind you.

“I don’t know…I think this is a false backing.”

And you’re right. You pull the books to reveal a small hidden entryway that’s dark, and it looks like it doesn’t lead to anything. Aaron’s halfway through telling you to let another police officer look through the crawl space because you have to take off your vest and gun to fit, but you’re not hearing it.

“Hotch, I’m the only one who’s small enough to fit through here,” you say. “I’m shorter than the rest of you and all of you are men. I don’t think Gracie or Olivia want to see someone who looks like their dad.”

“She’s right,” Spencer mumbles. You don’t wait for Aaron’s approval, venturing into the crawlspace.

Gracie and Olivia are understandably scared until you tell them their mother’s waiting for them at the police station. You help them out of the small room they’ve been kept in and notice how relatively furnished it is–a mattress, blankets, pillows, and coloring material–and make note of how your profile was right.

You don’t spare a glance at Aaron, too invested in making sure the children are safe with EMTs while they’re being checked for harm. Olivia asks you to stay with them and holds your hand, and you don’t bring yourself to leave them. When the EMTs let you know they aren’t injured and can visit the police station without going to the hospital, Aaron reluctantly lets you accompany both of them back to the precinct.

It’s well after dark by the time both children leave with Jaqueline. JJ and Emily have worked out a deal with local police to keep them under surveillance and protection until Scott has been captured and are instructed not to let Logan near the three of them for the time being.

You aren’t able to say goodbye to the three of them, instead recounting your story to the local detective who needs your statement for the paperwork while it’s fresh in your memory. You’re on a high after seeing the two girls reunite with their mother and the entire team congratulates you on a job well done when Aaron storms into the office, angry.

“Y/N, go back to the hotel.”

Aaron stands tall, his hands on his hips and his mouth etched in an angry frown. His voice is low and you can’t believe the words you’re hearing.

“To the hotel? Hotch, you can’t be serious.”

“You made a reckless decision to abandon your gun and vest. That could have gotten you killed,” Aaron says. “You are not capable of working under pressure.”

“You told the entire team to use our instincts and that’s exactly what I did. I saved two little girls, for God’s sake.”

“You are hot headed and have this overwhelming urge to prove yourself when nobody cares how well you perform,” Aaron says angrily. “The entire time you’ve been with the BAU, you’ve barely contributed aside from piggybacking off of someone else to reach a conclusion.”

That, you know, is a lie. Aaron just wants to hurt you.

“At this very moment, you are incompetent and can’t hold yourself together for the sake of the victims and their families.”

“We have to catch Scott.”

“You can’t do your job, go back to the hotel.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Hotch.”

“I want you gone, Y/N,” Aaron says firmly. “Go back to the hotel or hand in your badge.”

Unbelievable.

You don’t spare Aaron another glance. Your feet carry you out to the lobby and your breath is so uneven that you need to step aside into an empty interrogation room to calm yourself down. Your jaw clenches and you ball your fists to gather some sort of relief, but you don’t find it. Instead, your nails dig into your palm until it turns white and you let go, exiting the room without another word.

The keys to the SUV are still in your pocket. You don’t necessarily care that the team will have to squeeze into the remaining vehicles and you don’t care enough to let one of them know you’ve made it outside.

Your hands shake when you reach into your pocket. The warmth of the metal is familiar and your hand pulls it out when a stray tear falls from your face and splashes onto your cheek. Hastily, you enter the car and slam the door shut and lock it when you feel yourself overcome with sadness and anxiety.

The tears fall freely at this point and you bow your head to the steering wheel, your breaths hot and mouth wet from crying. The back of your sleeves are soaked as you try to wipe away your tears to no avail and your vision becomes too blurry to drive.

You allow yourself a few minutes to cry. The sound of your gasps echo throughout the care and your shoulders feel heavy with every sob. The weight of the world is truly on your shoulders now and you aren’t sure if you have a job when you go back to Quantico.

But you pull yourself together and drive back to the hotel. It feels much longer than it needs to be and you sit in the driver’s seat for a moment when you park the car. You hate that you feel incapable of being a member of the team without Aaron breathing down your neck. You hate that you can’t live up to his expectations and that you try to in the first place. Working at the BAU wasn’t supposed to be a nightmare.

You exit the car and lock it behind you, another stray tear escaping. You feverishly rid yourself of the tear and walk to the entrance of the hotel when you feel someone grabbing you from behind and an acute sense of pain at the base of your neck.

It’s black after that.

Back in the station, the local police have distracted themselves with their case files and other happenings while the rest of the team looks at Aaron in shock. Spencer's looking at the empty space where you stood and Emily is looking at Aaron like he’s grown a second head.

“Are you serious?” she begins. “Hotch, we need everyone on this. We need Y/N.”

“She’s too hot headed,” Aaron replies.

“Oh yeah?” Derek chimes in. “And how about you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You know damn well that Y/N adds as much value to this team as the rest of her. Two years with the BAU and stellar reviews from the board has proven that. Why are you still treating her like a first-day agent?”

“Y/N needs to learn to let go of her ego,” Aaron retaliates. “I don’t need to explain myself to any of you.”

“You’re wrong about her not contributing anything,” Spencer says. It surprises Aaron to hear Reid defy him on your behalf. “For the cases that we’ve worked on with her, she’s been the one to take lead on the preliminary profiles for most of them. Some of our biggest leads have come from her.”

Aaron breathes and doesn’t say a thing. He looks at his team and knows they don’t approve of his choice to send you back to the hotel, but he stands by it. David looks at him like he’s almost disappointed in him and JJ holds his stare.

He knows why he’s being extra hard on you. He knows he’s pushing you to your limit by keeping you at arm’s length. Aaron doesn’t want to admit that he sees you as anything other than his subordinate and coworker, but he does. He doesn’t want to be the reason why you don’t advance within the bureau and why there might be a future workplace ban on relationships. Even if he disagrees with how you handled things tonight.

Aaron doesn’t communicate any of this with the team while he stares them down. Instead, he fixes his posture and clears his throat.

“Get back to work.”

***

When you come to, you’re acutely aware of the handcuffs around your wrist.

The air is cold and you realize you’re bound to a pole in a barn, and you’re not sure where you are. Everything is suddenly hazy and your vision blurs until you blink rapidly with the hope that you’ll regain full consciousness.

The first thing you can feel is a headache. Your head’s pounding viciously and you wince at the pain, inadvertently tugging in your wrist and against the handcuffs. The metal is cold and it sends a chill up your spine when you realize you’re alone. You try your best to recite what you can sense over and over again in your mind.

The air is cold. You’re sitting on a hard floor with straw and other debris around you. The air smells like manure and hay. You can hear crickets and wind blowing just outside of the barn, and you can see hardware tools towards the back of the building.

The influx of emotions that creep into your chest is enough to make any person an anxiety-ridden mess. Your heart feels like it’s going to lurch out of your chest with every second that passes by because your reality becomes more real; this isn’t a nightmare you’re desperately hoping to wake up from.

“Look who’s awake.”

It’s Scott.

He flickers the lights on and that’s when you realize he’s holding a gun.

“You took quite a while to wake up, actually. I’ve been waiting here for two hours wondering when you’d return to the land of the living.”

Scott dons a smirk that you wish you could wipe off with both of your fists. His right hand grips the gun haphazardly and he waves it around as he gestures while speaking, and the fear of dying has finally crept into the forefront of your mind.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“South of Los Angeles,” Scott replies. “Far enough that your little team won’t find this patch of land.”

“Why’s that?”

His smirk widens when you stay quiet.

“You know, Agent, I find you interesting.”

“There’s nothing remotely interesting about me,” you say. You try your best to remember the profile and give him what he wants. He hates authority and between the two of you, you legally have all of it. So, you downplay yourself,

“I beg to differ,” he laughs. Scott takes a step towards you and you recoil. “I’ve been watching this investigation unfold because I need to keep tabs on what’s happening so that I don’t get caught. It’s worked so far, but you were just lucky to have found my little girls.”

“We found them because you made a mistake,” you chide. “You slipped up.”

Scott’s smirk turns into anger, and he takes another step towards you.

“I made a mistake because I wasn’t thinking far ahead, Agent.”

He takes another step and he’s by your thigh. Scott bends down to your level and you’re aware of how close his gun is to your abdomen, and you pray that you don’t say the wrong thing.

“I wasn’t thinking far ahead because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. But it came to me a few nights ago when I realized that you and I are people that don’t naturally get to be in the spotlight.”

Scott caresses your cheek and you shudder underneath his fingertips. He retracts and stands up, pacing back and forth in front of you.

“See, you and I are people who don’t get enough credit for our work. All it took was one moment watching your horrendous boss dismiss you for your work. I knew you’d be the key in getting my girls back to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Scott leans forward. “You’re smart enough to figure it out.”

Unfortunately, it comes to you quickly.

The team had gathered around the house that Jaqueline and Scott had lived in when they were married. Penelope had clued the team in on this location. A new couple lived in that house with no connection to Jaqueline and Scott but you thought it was worth checking out.

Aaron disagreed. That house hadn’t been occupied by either of them for years since they got a divorce but your gut had been telling you to visit the property to look around for extra clues that might’ve turned up. Your insistence angered him, who accused you of disobeying orders, and it was David who had to intervene and remind Aaron never to leave any stone unturned.

Reluctantly, Aaron ordered the team to the house and you successfully convinced the new owners to let you look through their property with the promise that nothing would be disturbed. Two hours into searching and Aaron was ready to write your mishappenings in the file report when he returned to Quantico, but your sudden interest in the backyard piqued everyone’s interest.

You had discovered a well-hidden doorway to an underground room. The new family would’ve never seen it, as it was tucked away with roots and other invasive plants that covered the wooden doorway. When you and Morgan entered the space, it was clear that Scott had been there recently.

Unbeknownst to you, Scott has been hiding out a few houses down watching everything unfold, including the way Aaron distrusted your judgment. He’d been using that bunker as a living space, careful to work around the new family so as to not get caught. It was far enough that they couldn’t see him from where the windows were placed unless they were out in the backyard the same as he was.

“Remember now?” he asks.

You nod, complying. “You watched my boss reprimand me for wasting everyone’s time.”

He nods. “You and I are overworked and underappreciated. We don’t get credit or recognition even though we deserve it.”

“You knew we’d find Gracie and Olivia.”

Scott’s jaw locks but he agrees.

“I knew there was no way I’d be able to get to my girls in time to move them someplace else. So, I let you find them because I knew that I’d have no other chance to get them back if you arrested me.

“Then I followed you all the way back to the precinct so I could keep tabs on you and see where you were staying. It was just my luck that I happened to hear your boss yelling at you because of an open window. I knew my chance was when he ordered you to go back to the hotel.”

“How do I fit into all of this?” you ask.

“You, Agent, are going to help me get my kids back from Jaqueline and cover for me.”

“No chance in hell.”

Scott doesn’t like that answer. He lunges towards you and tugs on your hair, enough to make your scalp feel like it’s being set on fire.

“You don’t have a choice. I want my kids back and you aren’t in the position to make any demands.”

He doesn’t say much after that. Scott looks into your eyes with a murderous expression before letting you go. Your head hits the pole behind you because he pushed you away with enough force that it makes you dizzy again.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Scott says from the barn’s entrance. “I need some sleep and so do you.”

He doesn’t uncuff you and you’re left wondering how you can sleep when you’re being held captive.

***

When the team leaves the precinct, everyone is too drained to continue talking about the case on the ride back. They’d only been there two hours after you left but Aaron gets the feeling that the rest of them aren’t happy with him dismissing you.

The ride is silent and everyone retreats to their rooms respectively. He tries to forget the aching feeling in his chest and goes to sleep.

He wakes up to a cold sweat.

Aaron’s still not happy what perspired last night. He nearly made the choice to knock on your door and apologize for being harsh in front of the team and the local police, but he doesn’t. It’s better to put distance. It’s how he rationalizes how he’s treating you because he’ll fall apart if he imagines the consequences of being in a relationship with you.

You’re the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. He’s surprised he didn’t hear you knocking on his door to give him a piece of your mind, but he was too tired to consider that you didn’t.

His clock reads six A.M. and he’s sure the rest of the team is waking up and heading to the police station like he is. Aaron feels more tired with each day passing and it feels like his body is on autopilot mode with how fast he’s able to change and get to the precinct.

The team trickles in one by one and everyone makes their coffee before picking up where they left off last night. Penelope had sent the team a list of possible places that Scott might be and Aaron wants to cover as much ground as possible.

When he’s more awake, he mentally groups the team and the other police officers to search each property.

He stops when he realizes you’re not in the precinct.

At first, Aaron feels annoyed because he thinks you’re late. It isn’t completely out of character for you, as he’s watched you stumble into the office a few minutes before debriefing. Still, he prays that you’ll show up so everyone can move on with their day.

But you don’t come in. Every person that walks through the door isn’t you and Aaron’s annoyance becomes a question of curiosity with fear at the end of it.

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan asks from beside him.

“Probably slept in,” JJ snorts. “She sleeps like a brick.”

Everyone laughs at her comment in good fun because they know it’s true. You’re a heavy sleeper. But Aaron isn’t convinced. Something doesn’t feel right to him but he can’t quite place what it is.

He gives it another ten minutes. Aaron’s bouncing from leg to leg, anticipating your arrival. He’s waiting for you to hastily apologize about not hearing your alarm and he’s waiting for you to jump right where you left off because of your tardiness.

But you never walk through the door.

“Something’s wrong,” Aaron mutters. Spencer nods at his disheveled expression from where he sits and Emily looks down at her phone.

“I know she’s a heavy sleeper but there’s no way she’d be twenty minutes late with the stakes this high,” Emily points out.

JJ walks out of the room the BAU is occupying and inquires with everyone outside if they’ve seen you come in, but all of them say they haven’t seen you since last night. JJ walks back into the room with shaking hands and she’s almost reluctant to tell Aaron that nobody has seen you yet.

Emily tries to call your cell phone one more time with no luck. Aaron sends Derek to check on you at the hotel and doesn't bother to respect the speed limit on the ten minute drive to the hotel from the station. The receptionist is more than willing to give him a key to your room when you don’t answer your phone.

When he walks in, he notices that you aren’t sleeping in the bed. Your room is clean. The bed is made and there’s no indication that you slept in it last night. Your go-bag is perched on the table and a few clothes are haphazardly thrown on the chair beside it. Nothing seems out of place.

It’s when he walks back outside to return to the station that he hears a phone ringing from the bushes. Derek walks towards the sound and his breath catches in his throat when he realizes the phone is yours. He curses and picks up the phone to see Emily’s contact.

“L/N?”

“It’s me,” Derek says through your phone. “L/N’s not here and her phone was tossed in the bushes.” Metal catches Derek’s eye. “Wait a minute.”

He walks forward with caution and his heart drops when he realizes it’s a discarded needle and your gun right next to it.

“What is it?” Emily asks from the other line. She hears Derek sigh and she knows it can’t be good.

“It’s a needle and her gun, Prentiss. L/N not showing up to the precinct and her belongings being discarded can’t be a coincidence.”

From the police station, Emily panics. She hangs up when Derek lets her know he’s coming back and her panic rises when she sees her teammates looking at her quizzically. The lump in her throat grows when she realizes everyone is looking at her for an answer.

“Did you find her?” JJ asks. Emily doesn’t speak for a second.

“Morgan found her cell phone in the bushes by the front of the hotel,” Emily explains. “He also found a discarded needle...and her gun.”

Aaron’s attention shifts from the file he’s holding to Emily, who’s fidgeting with her hands.

“Her gun?” Dave asks for clarification. “Found outside of the hotel room?”

Emily nods. “Morgan picked up L/N’s phone and said he found it tossed aside.”

“And none of us saw her when she left the precinct?”

Nobody says anything.

“I think she’s been kidnapped,” Reid says abruptly. “None of us saw her when we got back to the hotel nor when we arrived at the precinct. Scott must know Y/N was the one who rescued his daughters and he’s either kidnapped her out of revenge or because he wants them back.”

Aaron doesn’t like that answer.

His hands feel warm and his heart is racing too quickly for his liking. Aaron can feel his exterior start to wither away with the realization that you’ve been kidnapped and he doesn’t second guess himself when he calls Penelope and asks her to track Scott’s cell phone and to triangulate his last known location.

This is now a rescue mission and he hates that you’re the victim.

The team doesn’t spare a second in finding a third location he could’ve taken you too. Penelope foregoes any of her other responsibilities to find you and Aaron can hear the frantic pace of her keyboard typing as she speaks. Derek and Spencer are visiting locations that hold significance to Scott in the event that he’s returned, but Aaron's doubtful that he’d make that mistake.

It’s when JJ explains what’s happening to the lead detective does Aaron feel like his world is crumbling around him. He’s put himself at arm’s length so much as to push you away from him and right into the arms of the unsub, and he feels like he might pass out in the middle of the precinct.

Emily and Dave pick up how quiet Aaron’s been ever since Penelope hung up. He’s too busy staring at the white board and it doesn’t help that your handwriting is all over it. Aaron’s throat is dry and he’s a second away from starting to blame himself for your disappearance, but he knows that he doesn’t have enough time to feel sorry for himself if he wants to find you.

When Derek comes back and tells the team there’s been no luck in finding you, Aaron’s heart sinks. He’s running out of options and he knows his head isn’t where it should be, but he can’t help it. Aaron does his best to keep himself composed when Spencer tries to piece together your timeline and he hates that they’re treating you like a abduction victim because you should be in this room with them. Instead, you’re God knows where and Aaron doesn’t bring himself to imagine that you might be dead already.

It’s Spencer who makes the connection between you and his children. He theorizes that Scott must’ve been present when you had rescued the children and kidnapped you for one of two reasons: to exact revenge or to force you to help him get his children back. JJ suspects that it’s the latter because of your profile. Scott wants to get his children back and he’d do anything to do it.

Dave wonders why Scott would risk kidnapping a federal agent and how he knew you’d be at the precinct or the hotel, and Spencer doesn’t hold his tongue when he said the only common link between the two of you is the way you’d both been treated by your superiors.

The room goes quiet and Spencer thinks he’s overstepped, but he doesn’t regret his choice of words.

Everyone looks at Aaron, who’s been silent the entire time. He thinks about how angry you were last night and how he convinced himself he didn’t see you shed a tear as you passed him. The guilt of sending you home and not checking in on you when he got back to the hotel is eating him alive because you’ve been missing for twelve hours and nobody knew about it.

“Reid’s right,” Aaron says. He feels his voice start to break. “We know why he’s taken L/N but now we need to understand how he’s going to use her in order to get his children back.”

Aaron’s phone rings and he’s grateful for the distraction. Penelope informs them of a house that was paid in all cash and purchased under a false identity a few months ago, and confirms that it was Scott who paid for the property after speaking with the realtor and showing her a photo. Aaron wastes no time ordering the team to head to the house and he feels like he’s running out of time when Penelope says the property is seventy miles from the precinct.

The ride to the property is agonizing. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is lethal and he’s swerving between every car with the hopes that he’ll reach you in time. Emily’s sitting in the passenger seat and she knows there’s nothing either of them can do except hope that you’re alive and well.

“We’ll find her,” she says after a long period of silence. “You know L/N. She’s strong and won’t go down without a fight.”

Aaron hesitates to speak. He gulps and he feels like his mouth is far too dry to hold a decent conversation because while he knows that Emily’s right, he can’t help but feel utterly hopeless on the freeway while you’re being held hostage by Scott.

“I shouldn’t have told her to go to the hotel,” Aaron says. “I should’ve left it at reprimanding her for going in alone. We could’ve avoided all of this.”

“You of all people know you couldn’t have predicted that Scott would’ve done,” Emily said. “It wasn’t in the profile. Neither of us could’ve predicted that he’d kidnap L/N.”

“I know.” Aaron signals and passes three cars who are driving far too slow for his liking.

He’s silent again, which doesn’t surprise Emily. Aaron sits in the driver’s seat, a million thoughts racing to the front of his head but he can’t seem to choose the right words to speak. He knows how unfair he’s been to you and all the anger and frustration about not being able to be with you has transpired into this mess he’s found himself in. He should’ve never let his feelings get to this point nor let his frustration shift from the forbidden relationship onto you.

“I’ve been unfair to her,” Aaron croaks. He hears the crack in his voice as it starts to falter, but he keeps talking because he thinks he might go insane if they sit in any more silence. “I’ve pushed her aside and made her second guess herself as an agent of this team all because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asks. Aaron sighs and he grips his steering wheel, embarrassed that he’s been an unfair leader and that he’s admitting it to one of his colleagues.

“L/N is an exceptional agent and it’s no wonder why I fell for her.”

Emily’s quiet and Aaron’s sure he’s made a mistake by confessing that to her. He wishes he could take it back and lie instead of being honest with his friend, but he can’t take back the words he’s said. And he stands by it.

“I’ve been so busy trying to pretend like I don’t have feelings for her but every day I’m scared that something like this could happen to her. I hate it when she’s reckless and disobeys orders because I’m afraid that it’ll get her killed.

“I know what it looks like on the outside to see me and my subordinate in a romantic relationship. She’s young, career-driven, and I’d hate to stand in the way of whatever’s next for her. I don’t know how to act around her and I thought that pushing all of this down would help me lose feelings for her, but I haven’t.”

“You sound like a teenager,” Emily says. It shocks him and when he looks at her quizzically, Emily chuckles. “What, you think I couldn't see how hopeless you were when it came to L/N? Hotch, you’re like a kid in a candy store when she’s around. The rest of us were ready to start placing bets on you two until you started giving her the short end of the stick.”

He feels awful. Aaron’s guilt causes him to flex and rev the engine.

“I never meant to hurt her,” he confesses. “But that doesn’t matter now.”

“What matters is that we’re on our way to rescue her and there’s nowhere else she could be,” Emily reassures. “Scott wants his kids back and he knows they’re in LA county. There’s no way he would risk taking her somewhere else when he doesn’t have Gracie and Olivia.”

“Right,” Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neither he nor Emily need to chide him for how he’s been treating you. He knows he’s wrong and Emily knows it too.

“L/N is the strongest out of all of us. She’ll make it through this.”

Aaron has a sneaking suspicion that Emily’s trying to convince herself, but he doesn’t say anything.

When the team reaches the property, it’s notably quiet. The next neighbor is two miles down the road and Derek’s ready to search the house when Aaron steps out of his vehicle.

“More backup’s two minutes out,” Aaron explains, “but we’ve got enough people to start the search. Reid and JJ, check the backyard. Prentiss and Rossi, check the house. Morgan, you’re with me. We’re checking the garage.”

Aaron orders the police officers to check elsewhere before he and Morgan make their way to the garage. With his gun and flashlight in his hands, he approaches the enclosed space with caution and his heart spikes with anxiety. Before he can think about the worst that could happen, two police officers manage to open the garage door as he and Derek search the place.

It’s empty.

Aaron curses under his breath as they check the confined space but find nothing out of the ordinary. The rest of the team relates the same information and Aaron feels like he’s losing hope because he doesn't know where else you could possibly be.

“Guys, there’s a barn across the landing,” comes JJ’s voice from the communications line. “There’s a truck parked outside and I’m willing to bet it’s Scott’s.”

Aaron’s heart stops beating for a moment.

“We need to search that barn,” Aaron commands. “Everyone pull your resources and let’s head out.”

It feels like slow motion to him, the way he diverts his attention to the barn that JJ pointed out. He feels like he’s watching the scene unfold in front of him from another person’s perspective and desperately prays that you’re in there, safe and alive. The grip on his gun is falling from how his hands are trembling but he reminds himself that he has a job to do.

Dave touches the hood of the car and says it’s warm, which means Scott is most likely inside of the barn. The lead detective is ordering his team to secure the back entrance and surround the building so that Scott has no place to run and Aaron instructs his team to do the same at the front. Under hushed voices, he can almost make out the faint scout of scuffling coming from behind the large wooden doors and feels his throat close.

Then he hears a gunshot.

Everyone rushes inside and he’s overcome with dread when he walks inside. Aaron’s heart is racing; he can feel the grip of his gun slipping because of how unsteady his hands are and he’s nearly tripping from all the hay that he’s stepping on. He fears the worst when he enters and does his best to prepare himself to see your lifeless body.

But you’re laying on your stomach with a gun in your hands.

You don’t process the ringing in your ears until Aaron moves beside you to reach for the gun in your hands. He’s tossed it aside and maneuvers you to check for any injuries. Aaron glances at your face and notices a deep bruise forming on your left temple with scratches and smaller bruises adorning your face, and he hates it.

He hates that your body and face is covered in Scott’s blood. He hates that your hands are still shaking with fear. He hates that there’s nothing he can say or do that will make everything better for you.

The shirt you’re wearing is covered in Scott’s blood spatter and you’re barely able to process that you’ve most likely broken a few ribs. You don’t say anything. The overwhelming urge to cry resurfaces and this time, you don’t stop yourself.

Aaron catches you before you hit your head onto the ground and moves his body to sit behind you. You’re stationed between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you slump over and grab his arm for support as your tears wet his dress shirt. Aaron foregoes all standard procedure and lets you cry in his arms instead of calling for the EMT to whisk you away from the hospital.

You don’t care that your cries are almost louder than the ambulance sirens. Your adrenaline makes the blood pump loudly in your ears and you grip onto Aaron like you’re afraid Scott will come back to life and kill you if you let go.

His free arm is secured around you. Aaron’s eyes become glossy as each second passes by and his heart breaks in two when he hears your continual cries.

“You did so good,” Aaron whispers. “So good. You’re safe now.”

Aaron doesn’t let the EMT get close to you when you’re trembling in his arms. He tells them to wait a moment and they try to argue with him, but they relent when they see Aaron’s stern expression. His voice cracks when he tries to speak upon hearing your soft whimpers. Your eyes are screwed shut and Aaron strokes your hair as you bury yourself further deeper into him.

Dave and Spencer canvas the scene and look around for anything out of the ordinary to report. Derek's speaking with the EMTs while JJ and Emily are patiently waiting with blankets and bottles of water for you. But you don’t get up. Your legs feel numb from sitting down and Aaron’s grip on you is so tight that you feel like you’ll fall back down if you try to stand up.

Your sobs have turned quiet and you almost feel like you’re at peace. But then you remember your bruises and the blood still on your body. You remember Scott’s body and find yourself crying even harder.

“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Aaron says in your ear. “We can get you cleaned up and on your way home. Does that sound good?”

His voice is like honey. Sweet.

You nod and you try your best to sit up to no avail. Aaron tries to help you up and the EMTs catch you before you can fall back onto the ground. He reluctantly lets the EMTs take you to the ambulance where JJ and Emily are waiting. He watches as they drape a blanket over you and as you’re wheeled up into the vehicle. Emily offers to follow you to the hospital and JJ steps away, letting the ambulance drive off.

Aaron doesn’t process anything. He doesn’t hear the sirens, the police chatter, or Dave approach him with a concerned look.

“She’s gonna be okay, Aaron.”

Dave’s voice is nothing but a hollow shell to Aaron. It feels like an empty promise even though he knows you’re going to make it out alive. Still, Aaron doesn’t say a word.

“Let’s go meet her at the hospital.”

***

The doctor explains that you’ve suffered a concussion, a couple of bruised ribs, a broken arm, and a grazed bullet wound. You’ll be relatively fine, but Aaron’s heart is racing and can't get past seeing you covered in blood to pay attention to anything the doctor is saying. He hasn’t had time to beat himself up for sending you back to the hotel without accompaniment and he hates that the guilt is crashing in on him when you need him the most.

Aaron looks down at his sleeves and they’re covered in blood, dirt, and your mascara. He stares down in shock and his mind flashes to the barn, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s ever seen you cry before. It breaks him.

The doctor explains that they needed to sedate you because of your sudden adrenaline rush. Your shock had caused you to lash out when a nurse had grabbed your wrist, and through your clouded judgment, you’d swung at him with all of your might. Your fretful apologies made you uncontrollably sob afterwards and the nurse could only look at you with sympathy.

Two hours later, the team was still waiting in the waiting room. Under the guise of wanting to get you something to eat other than stale hospital food, Aaron leaves to buy you a meal. But he needs to get ou and get fresh air before he suffocates.

Aaron’s guilt eats him alive. He walks aimlessly towards a deli and scolds himself over and over again for making you drive to the hotel unsupervised. In hindsight, Aaron knows his personal feelings came into play when he berated you for your recklessness. He knows he was unfair to you because he would’ve done the same thing if he were in your position.

When he returns, Dave’s looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking, but doesn’t say anything. Aaron appreciates his friend’s concern but the guilt doesn’t relent. He fidgets in his seat and tries to calm his spiking anxiety but nothing seems to work. His mind retracts to the moment he found you covered in Scott’s blood and your cries are enough to make Aaron feel like he might shed a tear in front of his teammates.

His thoughts are disrupted when he sees your doctor approach the group.

“She’s a little out of it,” says the doctor, “but she’s conscious. You’re all welcome to say hello, but only for a few minutes.”

When the doctor directs the team to your room, she explains what happened after you reached the hospital. Aaron can’t process anything she’s saying. His ears are ringing and he feels like everyone around him is talking too loudly for him to be able to hear anything the doctor is saying. All he can pick up is “dehydrated” and “concussed.”

Everyone hastily walks to the room you’re in. JJ files into the room first. It takes Aaron a few breaths to find the courage to step inside of the room and he’s sure Emily’s the one who helped him take the first step.

“What’s the prognosis?” your croaked voice asks. JJ sniffles and laughs at the same time, and the rest of the group watch you try to prop yourself up.

“How you’re able to joke at a time like this is beyond me,” JJ gushes. She takes a pillow from the bed and helps you sit up.

“What, a few broken ribs and a concussion? I’m lucky the bullet only grazed me.”

Nobody laughs but you can tell they’re trying their best.

Aaron towers over everybody easily and he’s in between trying to catch your gaze and trying to avoid it. Emily hands you the sandwich from the local deli and you waste no time, opening the wrapper and letting the aioli slide down the side of your mouth.

It’s easily the most adorable and most heartbreaking thing Aaron has ever seen.

“Slow down, Tiger,” says Derek. He grabs a nearby napkin and wipes the sauce away while you smile sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you mutter, taking slower bites. Spencer’s next to hug you and you welcome the way he refuses to let you go.

Everyone looks at you under the harsh lights of the hospital room and you feel like you’re being observed. The sedative you’d been given is enough to make you feel somewhat normal because no matter how hard you try to panic over the last few hours, you can’t.

You feel like you’re numb to your experiences and the pain Scott inflicted. Staring at your team feels eerily normal and you almost forget that you’re sitting in a hospital gown with enough injuries to put you out of the field for a few months.

“You broke my heart, kiddo,” Dave chimes in. He grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a kiss to the back of your hand. JJ pulls you into a mother-like embrace, kissing the crown of your head. You lean into her touch and Aaron wishes he were the one comforting you.

“I feel like shit,” you confess. “I woke up feeling groggy and I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“We’re so glad you’re okay, Y/N,” Emily says.

“Thanks, Em,” you say. You take another bite. “This sandwich is good.”

“Aaron bought it,” Emily speaks.

You look at him. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged his presence since he walked into the room.

“Thanks,” you mumble behind the sandwich. “I could eat five of these.”

“I don’t want to deal with you puking on us,” Spencer jokes, and it makes you feel somewhat normal.

You don’t like feeling as though you’re a delicate piece of glass that’s close to being dropped. You hate feeling useless and pitied. Everyone’s looking at you with sad eyes and it makes you feel like you’ve let your colleagues down, even though you know there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent what transpired.

“I’m really sleepy,” you say, haphazardly throwing the wrapper on the table next to you. It isn’t a lie, but you say it with the hopes of being alone.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” JJ says. She looks at the clock in front of her and doesn’t realize that it’s four in the morning. You squeeze her hand when her eyes well up. JJ wipes her eyes and blinks her tears back and you lean against her side.

Aaron can’t help but stare. You look so vulnerable at this moment and you’re doing your best to keep yourself awake, but the sedatives are making you drowsy. The team says their goodbyes and reluctantly trek back to the hotel, but Aaron can’t bring himself to walk into the building once he’s parked.

“Get changed,” Dave says after a brief moment of silence. Aaron looks at him in confusion. “Take a shower, eat something from the vending machine, and go back to the hospital.”

“She doesn't want me there,” he says slowly.

“She’s asleep,” Dave dismisses. “She’s not going to know you’re there and I’m sure she’ll want to see a familiar face when she wakes up.”

“I’m not sure I’m the person she wants to see.”

“You were the first person she reached for when we entered the barn,” Dave explains, “and I know you won’t be sleeping a wink tonight unless you’re by L/N’s side. Go get changed and get back to the hospital, Aaron.”

“I just–”

“I know you feel guilty. Whatever feelings you have towards her never went away and that’s why you’ve been so hard on her.” Aaron’s not surprised that he’s picked up on this habit. “I don’t have to agree with how you handled it, but what matters is that she’s alive and she’s resting. We got her back, Aaron. She’s here and Scott isn’t.”

Aaron knows Dave is right. He thanks him for being a good friend and trudges back into his hotel room, hastily freshening himself up before returning back to the hospital.

***

You wake up later in the morning with little to no recollection of how you got there. You feel extremely out of it, like someone removed a ton of bricks from your chest after keeping it there for a fortnight. You look to your left and see a window that shows you a gloomy D.C. morning. You look to your right and see Aaron Hotchner slumped over in a seat, asleep.

This wakes you up. You’re blinking the sleep out of your eyes when you realize he’s snoring. It’s soft and unassuming, but you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him sleep.

The chairs must be uncomfortable, too. You do your best to sit up—which is when you notice the sling on your arm—and manage to prop yourself up on the pillows until you’re sitting upright. Aaron stirs in his sleep at the sound but he’s still asleep.

You’re not close enough to reach him and wake him up. You aren’t sure that you want to either, for the fear that he might start telling you a laundry list of all the things you did wrong throughout the case.

The doctor from last night walks in and knocks on your door, which shifts your focus. Aaron’s still asleep and the doctor, who reintroduces herself as Dr. Aguta, gently walks around Aaron and to your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” she asks you while holding a clipboard. You notice her colorful print skirt first and it’s a contrast to how grey it is outside.

“My head hurts,” you say with a croak. It’s the first thing you’ve said since you woke up. “And I realized my arm’s broken. But other than that, I feel fine.”

Dr. Aguta gives you a pleasant smile. “I’m glad to hear that you’re doing okay. The sedatives we gave you last night seemed to help ease your pain, though I’ll be giving you a prescription for the rest of the month when it wears off.”

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Do you remember why you’re here?”

Unfortunately, you do. You remember Scott, the gun, and Aaron coaxing you to go with the EMTs. It’s mostly a blur and you can’t remember the details but you remember enough. The softened expression is a dead giveaway and Dr. Aguta doesn’t press any further.

She sees your gaze shift to Aaron, who still hasn’t woken up.

“He came last night and insisted on staying with you,” Dr. Aguta informs. “Typically I’d only let immediate family stay overnight, but your boss seemed extremely worried about you.”

“He did?” you ask. It’s news to you.

She nods. “When I saw him for the first time last night, I could tell he’s a man of few words and the leader of your team. But last night he was a stuttering mess and I let him stay overnight with the condition that he doesn’t wake you.”

You don’t say anything. Aaron’s mouth is partly ajar and you know he’s going to wake up with a lot of back pain from how he’s positioned. Dr. Aguta performs a routine check up on you and lets you know that you’ll be discharged from the hospital the following day. You thank her profusely and she can only give you a reassuring smile. You ask her to wake Aaron up for you just before she leaves.

Aaron blinks and remembers he’s not in the hotel. Dr. Aguta excuses herself to give the both of you privacy and he sits upright, stretching his back unpleasantly.

“Morning,” he says, clearing this throat. “How do you feel?”

You’re getting tired of answering this question but you humor him.

“Better,” you say honestly. “Aside from my broken arm and concussion.” Aaron’s gaze shifts to your arm and he almost winces.

“Did you sleep well?”

“For the most part, but I think the sedatives had more to do with it than anything.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

An awkward silence falls over the both of you. Aaron desperately tried to pull himself together by waking himself up and you’re fiddling with your hands. You noticed he’s changed since you saw him last night, now in slacks and a quarter zip, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him look so casual.

Aaron’s trying to think of the right words to say. As your boss, he wants to tell you that none of this was your fault and there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. He wants to tell you he shouldn’t have ordered you back to the hotel, not without anyone accompanying you.

But as someone who has deep feelings for you, Aaron wants to say he was scared to death and thought he might lose another person he cares for. His anxiety skyrocketed through the roof when he saw what you had done to Scott and he wishes that you didn’t have to work through this trauma.

But he doesn’t say anything. You watch as he swallows and you know his brain is working overtime by how often he pulls his eyebrows together. You don’t have it in you to be angry at him like you were the night he sent you away. The sedatives, along with your exhaustion, leaves little room for anger.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say to break the silence.

“I can get something from the cafeteria,” he offers immediately, touching his pocket to make sure his wallet didn’t fall out.

“That would be nice.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t touched by the offer.

Aaron leaves for a short while and you try your best to process what just happened. He chose to stay with you overnight. He offered to buy you breakfast. You didn’t think Aaron would care for you like that.

He comes back a while later and apologizes for both the sandwich (that looks haphazardly made) and the time it took, as there was a long line. You thank him politely and eat the meal, and you’re grateful that you have anything to eat at all.

Aaron watches you and feels like he’s invading your personal time. He bought himself a fruit cup, knowing Dave would reprimand him for not eating if he were able to buy something.

“I shouldn’t have told you to go back,” Aaron says softly. You almost didn’t hear him say it. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I did the wrong thing and it got you kidnapped.”

You don’t tell him that it’s okay, because quite frankly he’s right. He shouldn’t have sent you home, but you know it’s not his fault that you were abducted.

“It’s not your fault that Scott took me,” you say matter-of-factly. Aaron can sense what you’re trying to say and his eyes hang in shame. “But I’m alive. I’m going to have one hell of a transition back to work, but I’m alive. I’m here. That is, if I still have my job.”

Aaron’s eyes snap to you.

“The job is yours for however long you want it,” he says immediately, and he means it. “What you did was reckless but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.”

This makes you smile a little and Aaron soars when he sees it.

“I didn’t mean what I said back at the precinct either, Y/N. You’re a fantastic agent and we’re lucky to have you.”

There are a million things you want to ask him. Why have you been second guessing me? Is my work not satisfactory enough? Why did you stay in the hospital with me?

But you don’t. There are too many things you want to say to Aaron that it ends up turning into a frustrating mess every time you think of the right question to ask. Aaron doesn’t seem to notice your lack of conversation. Or if he does, you think he’s trying to fill the awkward silence like you are.

“I don’t mean to be a burden,” is what you settle on. “I don’t purposely challenge your authority or how the team operates. I know I haven’t been here as long as everyone else but I like to think I make enough contributions.”

“You do,” Aaron says. “You aren’t a burden.”

You don’t believe him. “I just…lately I feel like I've been getting in the way of things.”

“You haven’t.” Aaron means that honestly but you don’t pick up on it. “You’ve shown immense critical thinking and problem solving skills. This case alone has proven that.”

You don’t disagree with him, but your mind reverts back to Scott and you start to deflate.

Aaron knows he needs to apologize for how he’s been acting towards you. The abduction and his guilt is eating him alive and it forced him to be truthful with himself about how harsh he’s been treating you upon realizing he likes you more than a colleague should. But he doesn’t know whether this moment is appropriate or not. Ever the professional.

Both of you are saved by Dave showing up unannounced. He’s dressed casually too, with jeans and a sweater for an unusually cloudy day in Southern California. His knocking brings both you and Aaron out of your heads.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dave laments. He enters the room after you beckon him in and gives you a gentle hug on the side that doesn’t have your sling. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling because I’m sure you’re tired of that.”

“Thank you.”

“But I did want to check up on you,” Dave continues. “The rest of the team are slowly waking up, I imagine.” He turns to Aaron. “I assume we’re grounded here until Y/N can fly back.”

“That’s right,” Aaron says. “Tell the team they have the rest of the week off. I don’t think Strauss wants us spending more of our budget on flights.”

“Already done,” Dave says with a smile. “You had us worried for a while there.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, even though you know you have nothing to be sorry for. “I didn’t mean to make any of you worry about me.”

“We always worry about you, kid. It’s our job.”

“Are the girls okay?” you ask him.

“Safe and sound. That’s actually why I came to visit, other than to check up on you.”

You blink out of confusion.

“Jaqueline called the precinct and asked to speak with you,” Dave explains. “Long story short, she got in contact with me and wanted to know if you’d be willing to speak with her. She wants to thank you in person.”

The thought never crossed your mind. Saving her children had always been your first priority, even when Scott threatened to kill you if you didn’t help him. You’re not a mother by any means, but Jaqueline is around your age and you have plenty of nieces and nephews to get an understanding of how difficult this whole ordeal was for her.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to make sure Jaqueline would be okay.

“Absolutely,” you say immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Aaron asks. “You just got to the hospital.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm, turning your attention back to Dave. “They can come visit me here if they’re willing to. I don’t think I have it in me to go to the precinct.”

“Of course,” Dave says with a small grin. It’s almost like he knows this will heal the both of you. He leaves the room and tells you he’ll be back later this afternoon.

Aaron sits in silence and he’s in awe of your resilience. He’s sure it’s the shock and sedatives talking, but he’s always known you to be someone who puts other people first.

“I should call Strauss and let her know the situation,” Aaron says. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, and you’re strangely reluctant to let him go. But you do anyway and he walks out of the hospital room, leaving you with your thoughts.

***

Dave lets you know Jaqueline is here with the girls a few hours later.

“Agent Y/L/N?” a voice says from beside you. The young mother knocks on the door as two children hide behind her legs. You beckon them inside, with Aaron and Emily supervising from beyond the threshold.

“Jaqueline,” you say, propping yourself up to seem more presentable. “Hi. It’s great to see you.”

“I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she apologizes, but you’re already waving her off when you see the two children emerge from behind her. “I wanted to thank you in person. For saving my kids.”

“It’s no problem,” you downplay.

But Jaqueline shakes her head and rushes to grab your hand. She pulls away when she thinks she’s crossed a line, but your grip is devastatingly tight when you squeeze hers. Jaqueline looks at you and tears slip from her eyes, and her children hug her legs like they know something’s wrong.

Jacqueline composes herself and brings Gracie and Olivia in front of her, who each have hand-decorated thank you cards made of colorful cardstock paper, stickers, and glitter. Your heart swells at the gesture and you will yourself not to alarm the family in front of you with your tears, so you promise yourself you’d cry when they leave.

“Hi, Munchkins,” you greet. “What’s all this?”

The girls shyly give you the cards, the eldest taking initiative to put them in your hands.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Mommy says you were very brave and saved us.”

“We drew these last night!” the younger one exclaims. “Mommy let us stay up late because we couldn’t sleep, so we made these for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you compliment, looking at the colors below you. Jaqueline hasn’t let go of your hand. “You girls are very talented.”

“Thank you,” the young one says bashfully. “I hope you get better soon.”

Your heart swells and Jacqueline squeezes your hand again before letting go. You watch her lips flutter and as her children become preoccupied with their dresses, Jaqueline surprises you again.

“Would it be alright if I called you from time to time?” she asks. “To let you know how we’re doing. That we’re okay.” You reach for her one more time.

“I’d love that,” you say honestly.

Jaqueline doesn’t say another word, but the look of gratitude and her quivering lips is enough to make all the hurt from the past few days disappear.

You watch as they leave the room and as the young girls save goodbye. David escorts them to the front of the hospital, which leaves Aaron awkwardly standing in the threshold with his body leaning against the doorframe.

Aaron watches you. Your eyes glaze over and the cards in your hand are slipping through your fingertips, and your lips move as if you’re trying to find the right words to say. But nothing comes out. Aaron listens as your breathing becomes shallow and watches a stray tear slip from the corner of your eyes.

Before he can think, he rushes by your side and envelopes you in his arms.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, somewhere between wanting to give you enough space and wanting to pull you against him. Your fingers are tight on his forearms when he hears your labored breathing become erratic and as your tears soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

Aaron takes the liberty of moving you in front of him, his back against the pillows you were sleeping on. He looks at your frail body in front of him; you always carry yourself as a strong-willed, independent agent on the field, and now he sees that he mistook your brazen character as recklessness when it was false bravado.

His heart aches when your grip on him tightens. Aaron reaches out to move the cards to the side table and pulls you against his chest, thankful that this bed is barely enough to fit the both of you. Aaron notices your craned neck, bringing the hand that isn’t wrapped around your frail figure to your head and gently moves your head to his chest.

Your soft whimpers are enough to make Aaron’s heart break all over again.

“You’re an amazing person,” Aaron says. “You are selfless, caring, and generous.” His words compel you to cry even harder and Aaron lets you weep in his arms until your eyes are dry and you’re hiccuping.

Aaron doesn’t let you, not for a second, feel embarrassed about breaking down in front of him. His thumbs are drawing soothing circles on your arm and he’s wiping away your tears with a tissue, allowing you to unravel before him.

Your dry heaving doesn’t bother Aaron, but he coos into your ear and tells you he’s going to get you a bottle of water when you grip his arm. He pries your fingers off of him and melts when you snuggle your head closer to him, but he knows you’re thirsty and the best thing he can do for you is keep you healthy.

“I’ll be back in two minutes,” he promises. “I’m all yours after that.”

You nod reluctantly and let him go. The bed feels empty when he leaves and you feel pathetic for hanging onto him like he’s your lifeline, but you don’t care. You just want to be held.

True to his word, Aaron comes back a few minutes later and uncaps the bottle for you. A soft ‘up’ utters from his lips and you sit up straight. He brings the bottle to your lips and tilts your head back enough to let the water slide down your throat.

Aaron puts it aside when you’ve signaled that you’re done and slides into the spot next to you once again. He puts his arm around your shoulder and brings you to his chest again.

You don’t tell him, but you feel his heartbeat. It’s irrationally fast and you don’t know what to make of it. You tighten your hold on him as you start to fall asleep and you miss the way Aaron rocks you to sleep.

***

When it’s time for your discharge, you’re feeling better than you did a few days ago. The team welcomes you back on board once you’ve been cleared to fly and it feels like nothing’s out of place.

JJ bought a bunch of pastries from a local cafe and everyone (save for Aaron because he was with you the entire time) has written little messages on a decorated card. It’s Spencer who frets over you the most, bringing you cups of tea and asking if there’s anything he can do to ease your pain. You’re quite touched.

You know you’re in no shape to drive home when you land. Your dominant hand is broken and your car sits in its designated spot, no doubt gathering dust and debris. The team is tired from the trip and everyone checks in on you one by one before leaving, and you don’t know how you’ll get home until you realize your car keys are still in your desk drawer.

Aaron watches you for a moment. He notices your apprehensiveness and the way you look at your car keys, and he puts two and two together. Before he can register what he’s doing, Aaron’s making his way to you and offering to drive you. You start to tell him you don’t need a chauffeur and that he should go home instead, but he’s more worried that you might hurt yourself inadvertently. He persists and you reluctantly say yes because you know he’s right. You could barely open the door to the building, let alone drive home.

The car ride to your apartment is quiet, save for the sounds of cars passing by on the freeway and the sound of gravel underneath the tires. You look up at your apartment complex when you tell Aaron the code to get into your garage and he parks in the visor spot after you’ve directed him.

The sling on your arm is a nuisance and you already can’t wait to get it off. You’re able to unbuckle yourself with your free hand and you’re surprised that Aaron opens the door for you.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“It’s not a problem.” You can tell he means it.

When you get to your apartment, you’re somewhat surprised that you haven’t lost your keys. You struggle to put them into the lock correctly with your non-dominant hand and Aaron can see the quirk of your eyebrow and how you’ve bit your lip out of frustration.

He fears he’s overstepping. He takes the keys out of your hands gently and opens the door for you anyhow.

When you walk inside, you don’t think you've ever felt happier to see your small one bedroom apartment. Aaron sets your go-bag on the kitchen counter and you stand still for what seems like an eternity until he brings you out of your haze and encourages you to change out of your clothes and take a shower.

But you don’t move. You stand in the middle of your living room and stare blankly out of your window, unable to appreciate the breathtaking view of D.C. like you always do. Your throat feels dry and your feet feel like they’re permanently planted on the hardwood floor beneath you.

Aaron comes to stand beside you and he leaves distance between the both of you. He looks at the sight before him and makes a comment about how he’s jealous of your view, but not even that gets a reaction out of you.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you mumble after a long pause. “I-I can’t be by myself right now.”

Aaron knows Jack is at sleepaway camp for a school trip and doesn’t get back for another few days. He doesn’t have to think about keeping you company so you don’t feel alone.

“I can stay with you,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You turn to look at him and the offer is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Aaron sounds so soft, caring, and unlike himself. Your heart tugs at his caring nature and you’re overwhelmed with the notion that he’s caring for you like he cares for your colleagues.

“Please,” you croak.

Aaron nods. He puts his hands on your arms and ushers you into the hallway and you point him in the direction of your bedroom. He’s acutely aware that this is the first time he’s ever been in your apartment, let alone in the room you sleep in, and tries not to dwell on it for your sake.

“You should take a shower and sleep,” Aaron suggests. “It’ll help clear your head.”

You follow Aaron’s lead. He guides you to your dresser and you grab an extra change of clothes and he accompanies you to the bathroom next door.

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?” he says. “Don’t be afraid to get me.”

“Okay,” you say meekly. Your voice is far too dry to speak normally.

Aaron closes the bathroom door and you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re sure you look like a mess, despite being taken care of in the hospital back in Los Angeles. But you feel sticky from the flight and the sudden change in temperature, and you want nothing more than to cleanse yourself of the memories from LA.

You remove the sling from your arm and try your hardest to take your clothes off but you find it exceptionally difficult with your arm being in a brace. It hurts to lift your arm and you nearly cry out of frustration and exhaustion when you realize you can’t take your shirt off by yourself.

Embarrassed, you contemplate on showering with your clothes on, but ultimately know you’d need to take them off anyway. You open the door and call for Aaron, and you hear his steps as soon as you do.

“Are you okay?” he asks when he realizes you’re still in your clothes.

“I can’t, um, take my clothes off,” you say, clearing your throat. “I can’t bend my right arm and my left one is extremely sore. I can’t take my fucking clothes off.”

Aaron isn’t offended by your defensiveness. He gathers that it’s your coping mechanism because you feel embarrassed, but Aaron doesn’t care. He doesn’t say anything but he nods like he knows what you’re going through and you have a suspicion that he might.

“I’ll close my eyes and take your clothes off for you,” Aaron says. He says it in a way that’s so sincere but it still makes your cheeks redden at the innuendo. Aaron tries to ignore it because he feels a blush coming.

“It’s so pathetic that I can’t do this by myself.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he reassures. “You have a broken arm and your body’s still in pain. Let me help you.”

You don’t say anything and Aaron takes it as a cue to move closer. True to his word, he puts his arms on your waist and turns his head away from you, careful to not hurt your broken arm. He maneuvers the fabric until it’s free from your body and he’s acutely aware that he’ll need to touch you in order to take the rest of your clothes off.

Aaron’s surprised when you move his hand to the button of your slacks. He clears his throat while you look up at the ceiling and bite your lip, pretending that the situation you’re in is completely normal to keep yourself from blushing too much. Aaron’s fingers work on the button and he’s careful not to put his hands where it’s inappropriate. He almost laughs at the thought, considering he’s your boss and he’s helping you take off your clothes.

You shimmy out of your slacks as Aaron slides it down your legs. He blushes at the thought of what’s to come next and swallows hard. Aaron returns to his stance and finds his neck is sore from craning, so he keeps his eyes closed and faces you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “I-I don’t think I can unclasp my bra.”

You wince at your words, but it’s true. You tried to reach behind you when Aaron worked on taking off your pants, but the ache in your shoulder was too much.

Aaron doesn’t say anything and you’re afraid that he might leave you. He’s so quiet that you can barely hear his breathing and you look at his closed eyes and see that his jaw is clenched. He mumbles and you’re barely able to catch it. Aaron lifts his hands to find your shoulders and you nearly shiver underneath his warm hands, despite the fact that your body might be just as hot.

Aaron reaches behind you and searches for your clasp. You can feel his fingers on your back as he feels for it and he’s incredibly aware that your gaze is on him. It takes all of his willpower not to open his eyes. He’s imagined undressing you before, but not like this. Aaron’s fingers find the clasp and he’s slow to undo it, afraid of tangling the metal.

You feel yourself free from its constraints and Aaron slowly moves his fingertips from your shoulders and down your arm. You comply the best you can with your sore arm and your broken one, and your breathing hitches.

Aaron ignores how fast his heart is beating when he hears your bra drop to the floor. His mind is in overdrive and he bends down again, his fingers immediately coming to your waist and gripping them with gentle care. You look down at him and your mouth is wide open with your jaw hanging when you realize he’s on his knees in front of you. Aaron’s fingers hook on the material of your underwear, but you can’t bear to see him take them off.

“Wait,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily.

Aaron forces himself to keep his eyes closed and he can hear your shallow breathing. His fingers are wrapped around the fabric of your underwear and suddenly he’s aware that it’s an intimate piece of clothing. Aaron’s cheeks redden and he’s desperately hoping you don’t notice.

“I can do it,” you say. Your voice wavers and you aren’t sure that you won’t be in pain when you take them off, but seeing Aaron on his knees with his hands practically down your underwear is too much for you at this moment.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, clearing his throat. His fingers detach themselves and he abruptly stands up. Aaron keeps his eyes closed still.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, and you mean it. “I really appreciate you helping me out…I’m sure this has crossed a lot of boundaries.”

Aaron wants to tell you he doesn’t mind it one bit, but he holds his tongue to refrain from making you uncomfortable. His eyes feel heavy and he stumbles when he stands up but catches himself when he feels the doorknob behind him.

“Like I said, I’m here if you need anything.”

Aaron stands still for a moment and it feels like the both of you had the air knocked out of your lungs. He doesn’t want to overstep or make it seem like he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state, so he exits the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You lock it immediately and pin yourself against the door. Your heartbeat is irrational and you turn the water on, fixing it to your desired temperature. Bending to take your underwear hurts and your shoulders feel like they’re about to pop off, but you manage.

You’re acutely aware that Aaron’s in your living room, no doubt trying to rid himself of the awkwardness. You aren’t sure if you’re grateful at what transpired because while it’s enough to help you forget about Los Angeles, it makes your cheeks flare into a hot mess and you feel uncomfortably turned on.

Aaron, too, feels the same way. He feels filthy sitting on your couch and results in pacing around the room. His shoes are discarded by the door and it feels all too domestic. Aaron’s tie is suddenly too tight so he tugs on the knot to loosen it. He rids himself of his suit jacket and places it neatly on the arm of the couch, and thinks about anything but you, naked in the shower. His slacks feel a little too tight, so he takes out his phone to check his email. It works for a while,

A while later, Aaron realizes you’ve walked out of the bathroom and you’ve managed to change without his assistance. You comment about how the shower loosened your muscles and you were able to get your clothes in relatively painlessly, but all he can think about is how cute you look in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

He’s too preoccupied admiring how undone you look because it’s the complete opposite from how he sees you at work. In Quantico, you’re somewhat put together, always wearing appropriate office attire and taking your caseload with grace while the rest of the team complains to no end about the amount of paperwork that needs to be filed.

Now, you’re standing in front of him with wet hair and an old shirt that has lost some lettering. It’s domestic and Aaron loves it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about offering you the bathroom,” you say timidly.

It’s nerve wracking for you to be in Aaron’s presence because of what happened a few moments ago and because you’re not sure why he’s been so nice to you. It’s fresh and strange at the same time, as you’re used to him looking over your shoulder.

But you don’t feel like he’s being domineering.

“I’ve got a few shirts that might be your size,” you announce. “And a bunch of sweatpants too.”

Aaron’s heart flutters at how welcoming you are considering all that happened to you, but he’s also found himself standing with jealousy when you mention that you have men’s clothing. Are you dating someone? Does he know he’s there?

“I love thrifting and sleeping in big shirts,” you explain, overcompensating for how awkward you feel to be standing in front of your boss looking like a disheveled mess. “I tend to thrift for clothes in the men's section because you guys have really good clothes for dirt cheap.”

Aaron’s worries are quelled and he doesn’t know why he feels so relieved to know you aren’t seeing anyone.

“That would be great,” Aaron says.

You nearly skip to your room and huff at your awkward demeanor, pulling out a large shirt from your dresser and a pair of sweatpants you hope is big enough. When you walk back to the living room, Aaron is still standing in the same spot and you’re somewhat touched that he’s nervous to be in your apartment.

“You can change in the bathroom,” you instruct. “Take as long as you need. There’s an extra toothbrush on the counter and a towel on the rack.”

Grateful, Aaron scurries into the bathroom and you walk away before you can think of imagining him getting undressed. Instead, you busy yourself by fetching extra blankets and pillows for him. There’s an extra thick blanket in your closet and you pull two pillows from your bed, unsure if Aaron’s the type of guy to care about his pillow count. You find yourself stumped for a moment, each hand two with pillows as you debate on how many to give him, before you realize how idiotic you must seem if someone were to take a peek inside your head.

You settle with two pillows.

You’re fixing a cup of tea for the both of you when Aaron walks out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. You know he likes to drink chamomile tea on the plane when you’re coming back from a case late at night. You’ve seen him make it a million times. It feels weird to be making him a cup, but you figure it’s the least you could do after he helped you change out of your clothes.

“I made you tea,” you say lamely, setting the cup down on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. Aaron walks towards you and he feels the hardfloor beneath him and how hot the mug is when he touches it. Thinking about this distracts him from your broken arm and the swell of guilt he has in his chest.

“Thank you,” Aaron says.

“I put in a little bit of honey. I hope it’s not too much.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “How’d you know I liked honey in my tea?”

“You drink it a lot on the plane,” you explain. “I see you make it a lot. You always scold Spencer every time he puts too much of it in.”

He can’t help but smile, but he hides it behind the cup.

Neither of you say anything. You don’t know what more you can say. The words cause you to choke every time you think about what happened back in Los Angeles. Realistically, you know there’s no way Scott can hurt you anymore, but it doesn’t stop you from panicking at the thought of being alone in your apartment.

But you look at Aaron, who’s looking at you, and you’re able to let your guard down for a little while.

“Thank you,” you muster. “For taking care of me back at the hospital and back at the barn. It…it meant a lot that you stayed.”

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly. “You’re a member of this team and your safety is my top priority.”

Your gaze drops to the floor. You aren’t sure what you were expecting. An apology? A confession? Truthfully, you don’t know what you want to hear from Aaron but it hurts knowing that he views you as just another colleague.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t made you feel that way in a long time,” Aaron starts when he realizes you’ve grown quiet. “A member of the team, I mean.”

“I-I just felt like I should’ve been doing more,” you confess.

“You’re doing everything right, Y/N. You’re an exceptional agent and an outstanding person. Any part of the bureau would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” you ask quietly.

“Absolutely.” Aaron means in.

You finish your tea and it all becomes too much for you. The pain of your arm is quelled by the medication your doctor prescribed and Aaron helps you open the bottle. It makes you feel silly that you need someone else’s help to do something so simple and you feel your frustration get the better of you.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, okay?” Aaron reassures. “Please don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

“I promise,” you say and it’s one you’re planning on keeping.

You close the door behind you and turn off the lights. It feels weird to be in your apartment because you feel like everything should be back to normal, but it isn’t. In your years with the BAU, nothing as serious as this kidnapping has ever happened to you. You’ve been trained to deal with kidnappings before and how to talk to the victims and to the survivors, but you’ve never thought you’d have to deal with the aftermath yourself.

You can’t sleep on your side because of your cast and your body feels like it’s constantly being run over by a stampede. The soft mattress is a contrast of how stiff your body feels and it all feels like it’s too much.

Aaron can’t sleep either. He’s been staring at the door for the past thirty minutes as he tries to fall asleep. His phone is plugged into the wall behind him and he checks in with Dave, who texted him as he drove you back to your apartment. Aaron briefly thinks about Jack and his heart softens for a moment, but then he hears your soft cries from the room.

Aaron lies completely still and hears your whimpers. He hears you sniffle, blow your nose twice, and he’s acutely aware of the fact that he has no idea what to do. He has half a mind of barging into your room to comfort you until you’re asleep, but he doesn’t want to overstep his welcome more than he already has. Aaron feels frozen on the couch and doesn’t know if you’re too nervous to ask him for comfort.

He’s surprised when you walk outside. You don’t turn the lights on and he can barely make your face when you step into the moonlight. But you look frail, broken, and like you’ve been tormented by your memories. Aaron hates that.

“Aaron?” you call out. Your voice is small and his heart cracks. “Can you keep me company?”

Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice.

He lifts the blankets from his legs and follows you into the bedroom. You sit on the edge of the bed and sniffle. Aaron sits next to you and carefully puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

It’s comforting and it aches. The pain of trauma and knowing that your life will never be the same again makes it seem like you’re never going to recover. Aaron doesn’t say anything, letting you cry into his shoulder and ignores the way your tear stains have soaked through the fabric.

He’s imagined being in your apartment before; he often wonders what your decor looks like and how often you spend time here. He’s imagined cooking breakfast for you before you wake up, making you cups of your favorite tea, making the bed after you’ve both woken up, and kissing you goodbye when you walk out the door. Being in your bedroom like this feels too intimate, but if he was being honest with himself, Aaron doesn’t really mind it. He likes that he’s the person you choose to lean on. He feels like this is the first step in holding himself accountable for how he’s treated you in the past.

Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron does everything he can think of to coax you through your sadness. He whispers praise and allows you to cry when you keep apologizing for your behavior, and he keeps telling you that he’s not going anywhere.

When you manage to calm down, you’re tired. Aaron lets you climb underneath the covers and tucks the blanket under your chin. His hand brushes your skin and he blushes, though he’s sure you can’t tell because of how dark it is. Aaron bids you goodnight and starts to walk back to the living room but you reach out for his hand before he gets the chance to leave. He turns around and feels your soft grip on him.

“Could you sleep with me?” you ask. “Or at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” Aaron says. He throws all caution in the wind and starts to walk to the other side of the bed and he’s surprised when you open the covers for him.

Your mattress is soft and your blankets smell like you. He tries not to think about it and leaves space between the both of you.

“Did you know I joined the BAU because of you?” you ask in the darkness.

“What?” Aaron says of shock.

You laugh lamely. “You guys held a few seminars at my alma mater and I knew then what I wanted to do with my life. I applied to the academy the next fall.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say. His cheeks are hot and you’ve rendered him utterly speechless. In your tired state, you push yourself as comfortably as you can until the back of your head is leaning on Aaron’s chest, mindful of your broken arm.

Aaron’s stunned and his body stiffens. But he thinks of all the times he’s thought about laying beside you like this and decides that he’ll cherish it as much as he can. His arm snakes itself underneath you as he tugs you closer, and he whispers a soft goodnight.

***

D.C. is a little cloudy when you wake up. The light peeks through your blinds and you’re made aware of the man sleeping beside you when you realize your face is buried in his chest. Your good arm is beneath you while the other is on top of the blanket. Aaron’s arms are encircled around you and when you feel his warmth.

You don’t rush to wake him up. Being here with him somehow feels right despite the part of your brain telling you he’s your boss and nothing more. But Aaron wouldn’t stay with you if he didn’t want to, right?

Part of you thinks he’s doing it just because he feels guilty. You know that there’s some truth to that, but you wonder if it’s the only reason he elected to take care of you. But you decide it’s too early to think about this. Instead, you close your eyes and bask in Aaron’s warmth, and fall asleep again.

This time, Aaron wakes you up twenty minutes after you fall back asleep. His arms are numb from your weight and he feels like he might try to kiss you if he doesn’t wake you up.

Your eyes flutter open and you bury your head in his neck. Aaron doesn’t bring himself to push you off of him. He pulls you against him and the both of you lay in silence for what feels like an eternity.

Eventually, Aaron has to leave because Jack’s coming home from a sleep away camping trip. He apologizes a thousand times over because he knows he said he wasn’t going anywhere, but you tell him that Jack is more important. An unrecognizable expression flashes across his face before he’s out the door, promising you that he’ll call to check in once Jack’s home.

And he does. Aaron calls you a few hours later when Jack’s in the shower and asks you how you’re feeling, if you’ve taken your medication, and if he needs to do anything for you. You decline for his help despite desperately wanting him back in your apartment.

When night falls, Aaron lets Jack stay up an hour later than usual. They’re watching cartoons from the nineties when Aaron gets a sudden idea. He pauses the television and turns to Jack.

“Do you remember Y/N?” Aaron asks his son.

“Of course I do,” Jack says. “She’s the one who buys me snacks when I come to visit you.”

“That’s right, buddy.” Truthfully, Aaron didn’t know you’ve continuously done that for Jack. But he rolls with it.

“Is she okay?”

Aaron knows Jack can tell something’s up.

“Not really,” Aaron replies honestly. “She got hurt real bad in our last case and broke her arm.”

Jack opens his mouth in surprise. “Oh no. Do you think she’ll get better soon?”

“I hope so. She needs a lot of help right now because she lives alone.”

“Well she can stay with us until her arm is better,” Jack says as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Aaron can’t help but smile through his shock.

“I’ve gotta ask her first, but I think that’s a great idea. That’s actually what I wanted to ask you.”

“It’ll be fun!” Jack exclaims. “Me and Y/N can watch cartoons while you’re at work and she can help me with my homework. She’s nice like that.”

“Yes she is,” Aaron says, nodding.

“Do you think I should make her a card so she feels welcomed in our home? I think I have leftover paper and glitter. Girls love glitter.”

“Y/N would love that. I’m going to talk to her first and if she agrees to stay over, you can make her a card.”

“Yay! This is gonna be the best sleepover ever.”

Aaron’s ecstatic that Jack’s receptive to the idea. He calls you the next morning and proposes the idea of staying at his place until your cast comes off. When you lament how long that’ll be from now, he insists and tells you Jack was the one who came up with the idea.

You can’t say no to Jack.

Aaron helps you gather belongings from your apartment and tells you that he’ll drive you back here or pick you up any time you want or need to. You double check that you’ve packed enough clothes for a week.

It’s a gradual and awkward start. You feel out of place as you try to navigate his apartment and where he keeps everything, not wanting to feel like you’re already welcomed in his home. But Aaron keeps reminding you that his home is your home and you don’t need permission since you’ll be here for a while.

Jack is sweet, too. He helps you by telling you where everything is stored and goes so far as to hold your hand while doing so. He insisted on tucking you in while you slept in the guest bedroom just to make sure you were comfortable on your first night, and you thought you might start crying in front of him.

At first, you walk on eggshells. You tiptoe around the boys and feel like a burden when Aaron brings home dinner for three or when he buys extra groceries, especially when he refuses to let you chip in. Jack tries to ease your worries after sensing your discomfort by asking you to build legos with him and you do your best despite the pain in your arms.

Aaron reminds you of your medication (and in turn, Jack asks you if you’ve taken your pills), cooks your favorite comfort meals, and drives you to mandated therapy sessions whenever he has the time. It warms your heart at how helpful he’s been since you know how busy he is typically, and you’re not sure what to make of your emotions.

Time passes by and suddenly staying with Aaron feels somewhat normal. You’re off of work until your arm is healed and you’ve seen your therapist a number of times, and you know you have a couple of months of doing whatever you want until you go back into the field. Against the advice of Strauss, you continue to help with cases and the paperwork load so Aaron can spend more time with Jack.

Gradually, you start to feel comfortable when you’re alone. You use his kitchen, clean his dishes, and busy yourself with tidying Jack’s messes. You explore his neighborhood and have found a few cafes and restaurants you’d like to try out. You feel more comfortable lounging on his couch instead of keeping yourself in the guest bedroom.

It feels domestic and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. There’s still so much left unsaid, including how you’ve felt being his subordinate prior to your abduction. Aaron’s apologized over and over again, has given you time to heal from it and chooses not to ask for forgiveness in lieu of letting you find it yourself. It means a lot. Deep down, you know Aaron isn’t a bad person. You just wish you knew why you were different.

A week turns into two, then into three, and soon enough you find yourself caring after Jack. You feel useless if you sleep in and start waking up early to make breakfast as best you can for everyone (limited to cold breakfasts until you start to feel confident using your dominant arm when it’s out of the sling). Aaron walks into the kitchen to see you making oatmeal one day and you’re worried that you’ve overstepped, but he thanks you profusely.

Jack waddles in and he takes the oatmeal without question and asks if you can put brown sugar and fruit in it. You look around and see apples and blueberries, and Jack chooses the blueberries. He watches as you fix him a bowl and eats his breakfast in silence.

It becomes a routine for you after growing tired of doing nothing all day. Helping Aaron’s around the house as best you can, working remotely on cases, and spending time in his neighborhood feels like you’re recording.

Jessica, Jack’s aunt, has been informed of your stay by Aaron. You’ve met her before in passing but have never spoken to her in depth before staying with Aaron. She picks him up and drops him off, making small talk with you about her life and about your work. It goes so far as coffee dates when she’s available and it feels like your life is getting back on track.

Meanwhile, Aaron realizes he’s bit off more than he can chew when he sees you every morning. He hears your morning voice and finds himself wanting to wake up to it every day. He sees the way you are with Jack, how thoughtful and helpful you’ve been, and thinks it’s where you belong.

And it hurts. It hurts to know that all of his suppressed feelings are suddenly coming to the surface.

Your cast is coming off later today and you’re due for another mandated therapy session and a psychological evaluation before you’re able to return to work. He’s elated, but that means you’re okay to return to your apartment and he’ll have to get used to the house being empty.

Aaron’s parked his car at Quantico and he glances at you in the passenger seat. Your arm sling and cast are gone and you look as good as new, but he’s reluctant to step out of the car. You look back at him, hands fiddling in your lap.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you begin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jack.”

“You’d be just fine,” Aaron assures. “But it was nice seeing you recover. Is your arm doing okay?”

“It’s like I never had a broken arm.” You flex it in front of him for emphasis. “My shoulder’s still a bit sore but I think my physical therapist has expedited the healing process.”

Aaron smiles. “Good. I’m glad.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the two of you before you both get out of the car. Your therapist had asked you whether or not you were ready to integrate yourself back with the team and was scheduled to supervise your initial day back in the office. You’re apprehensive, however, because you know that you never perform well if you’re being watched closely.

JJ’s the first to greet you when you walk through the doors. The office smells the same and it looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same. You spend a few extra seconds embracing JJ and gather that she needs this hug more than you do.

Everyone files in and it’s barely eight in the morning. David congratulates you on recovery, Derek and Penelope bombard you with jokes that make your stomach hurt, Emily shows you photos of Sergio upon your request, and Spencer gives you a side hug and tells you he’s glad you’re doing better.

The therapist arrives soon after and you’re on your best behavior without making it seem like you’re trying to be.

In the end, she permits you to return back to the BAU with the promise of continuing therapy. She refers to you to a few others and tells you that you should try to go in at least once a week, or however frequently your job lets you. You’re clear to fly, yield your gun, and you’re reinstated as a profiler with the BAU.

Aaron drives you back to his place to pick up your belongings before he drives you back to your apartment. He and Dave had been kind enough to drive your car back to your place, where it’s been sitting untouched.

The ride is filled with music from the eighties and you’re so elated from your first day back at work that you don’t mind singing in front of Aaron and pretending you’re shredding on an electric guitar. He takes his time getting home, taking the long way instead of the direct route, and he doesn’t think you notice. Aaron hopes you don’t.

But he arrives at his place and Jessica’s greeting you at the front door, happy to see you’ve recovered before she goes home. The sun has barely set and Jack walks out behind his aunt, asking you what’s for dinner.

You’re stunned for a moment as the realization that this all ends tonight. Staying with Aaron, falling into a life of balancing work and domesticity comes to an end when he drops you off at your apartment. Jack’s tugging on your elbow and Aaron scolds him because you might still be in a little bit of pain. He apologizes sweetly.

Aaron beckons you inside where you've started to pack your belongings. The luggage you've brought seems smaller than when you brought it, as you find it difficult to pack everything. You make the bed and set the room as you found it (to the best of your recollection), and you’re ready to put your shoes on when Aaron rounds the corner.

“I was thinking we could have one last meal here.” He clears his throat. “To celebrate your recovery.”

You don’t hesitate. “I would love that. I finally get to show you my cooking skills.”

Aaron smiles and Jack runs to your legs, beckoning you to the kitchen. You settle on making oven baked chicken with mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots, all of which Aaron had in his refrigerator. Jack asks how he can help and you’re touched when he brings a stool to perch on, and you tell him he can help you by rinsing the potatoes.

Aaron offers to help and you look at him with a silly grin, letting him prepare the carrots while you prepare everything else. Halfway through the process, Jack becomes somewhat irritable because of hunger and because the entire kitchen smells like a Thanksgiving feast. But he relents and waits for the meal to be done when you tell him the food always tastes better when it’s cooked longer.

You almost forget it’s your last time with Aaron and Jack when you eat your meal together. You forget it when Jack insists on ice cream for dessert and when Aaron makes you a cup of tea just the way you like it. You forget about it until Jack asks his father if he can be there when he drops you off at your apartment.

Your heart breaks a little. Aaron agrees and lets you grab your belongings while he buckles Jack in the car. Your luggage is in the trunk by the time Aaron is done and he opens the passenger door for you before getting in the car himself. Jack talks the entire ride, thanking you for dinner and lamenting how much he loved spending time with you. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is tight and he doesn’t think his heart could swell any bigger.

Eventually, the boys walk you up to your floor and Jack lunges at your abdomen after the three of you have walked into your living room.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Jack mumbles in your sweater.

“You’ll see her around, buddy. She’s not leaving the team,” says Aaron.

“But I’ll miss Y/N at home. I like spending time with her there.”

You and Aaron share a look. You can’t tell what he’s thinking but you know you’re unable to control the influx of emotions that will eventually spill out of you when they leave.

“Me too,” Aaron says quietly.

They leave soon after that.

You spend an hour crying in your living room and you haven’t unpacked your suitcase. Living with Aaron and being so close to him made you realize how your feelings for him, albeit complicated, have always been there.

You love him. You love his generous nature. You love the adoration he has for Jack and for his team. You love how he knows your beverages of choice and how gentle he’s been with you. You love the way he says your name and you love that you feel right at home with him.

It’s ten o’clock when you grab your phone and you know Jack’s been asleep for at least an hour. You dial Aaron’s contact and in your anxious state of mind, nearly regret your actions. But he picks up and you hear the sweet melody of his voice through the phone. Your voice falters at first, but you push through them anyway. You’re sure Aaron can hear your voice post-crying because of how raspy your voice is, but you don’t care.

You tell him you think you love him and it’s not because he’s been taking care of you. You pour your heart and soul into this speech and you panic when he doesn’t say anything.

“This’ll be one hell of a story we tell Strauss.”

And you laugh. You laugh because you know Aaron feels the same and you laugh because facing paperwork and recounting this conversation to Strauss doesn’t seem like the most frightening thing in the world anymore.

But just for good measure, Aaron tells you he loves you too.

***

AAAND WE’RE DONE X

7K notes · View notes

maliland · 5 months

Text

PLAY FAIR!

now playing: xo by beyoncé

barbie(s): e-1610 miles & black fem reader

includes: fluff & fake ass friends

synopsis: your day starts off a bit rocky when you're confronted with conflict concerning your friendships. your boyfriend cheers you up by taking you to the fair!

wc: 8358 (not including the bonus)

credz: @/firefly-graphics

a/n: first fluff fic yayay!! i lied abt when i was dropping this sooo many times, mb.. there's a bonus to make up for it. i hope u guys enjoy this and read VERY slowly bc idk when i'm dropping a fic next 🚶‍♀️ idk what i was doing here lowkey… i h8 everything but the bonus. (i'm biased i like angst better) lmk what y’all think of this tho 💞 ((i proof read but there might be mistakes))

mothers were always thought to have an intuition when it came to their children—some sort of sixth sense. the science behind it? well, there is none. none that’s been proven, anyway. that doesn’t stop some mothers from swearing that their second sight was legit. your mom was one of them, constantly giving her unwarranted two cents about people in your life who seemed harmless to you.

you felt blessed to have the mother you did. she was your best friend and your biggest cheerleader. she brought you up to be the girl you are today. without her, you didn't know who you'd be. not having a huge group of friends to be around 24/7 didn't really bother you as much as it would have if you didn't have her.

you’ve never felt like you needed to hide anything from your mom, but you did keep your crush on miles a secret for a hot minute. you'd never liked someone the way you liked him. you were shocked to discover that he like you too. when miles was ready to make things official, you knew you couldn't hide him from your mom anymore, so you didn't. she met him one saturday morning over breakfast, and to your surprise, she liked him. you were shocked she didn’t have anything condemnatory to say about your boyfriend, not because there was anything wrong with miles, but because your mom is overprotective of you.

growing up, you hadn’t always been the most sociable kid. all of the friends you had now found you and so did miles. that being said, your mom worried that people would take advantage of your built-in hospitality and youf kind heart. she watched out for certain things when you'd describe your interactions with people, then told you to watch out as well. although her overprotectiveness could be irritating more often than not, your mom had definitely helped you avoid trouble here and there.

growing up meant change. you weren't the biggest fan of change because of the risk that came with it. you had always preferred to stick to what you know—until this year. your fourth and final year of high school had you wanting to break out of your shell. the same few friends wouldn’t be there to keep you company when you graduate and go to different colleges, or hold your hand for the rest of your life. neither would your beloved mother. you had to hold your own hand.

you weren't sure how you were going to make friends, and you were too ashamed to ask anyone how to do so. thankfully, you didn't have to do much, because the friends you made came to you.

it started with a group chat with the five girls you had calculus with this year: tiesha, taraji, yanira, and adana. tiesha had created the chain so you all could send homework answers and test reviews back and forth. math was never your strong suit, so cheating was really the only reason you were passing. brief conversations about homework and how much you all hated the class turned into full blown conversations about boys and tv shows. minor comments about something annoying that someone did in class turned into major gossip sessions. you couldn't remember the last time you went a whole day without talking to those girls, whether it was one text message or twenty.

your mom told you she was excited that you had expanded your circle, but you could tell by the way her smile had slightly faltered that she was indeed irresolute. you knew you’d never understand her intuitive claims unless you had children of your own, and even then, you’d still doubt the phenomenon’s validity. it was just your nature to question everything.

presently, you were at a food court in the mall, sitting by yourself at one of the tables. every now and then, you’d glance up from your phone and see a group of friends or a couple pass by you.

you were supposed to hang out with yanira, taraji, adana, and tiesha, but it was almost one and none of them had showed up to the spot in the mall where you agreed to meet. every call you made went straight to voicemail. frustrated, you opened instagram to see if any of the girls were active. you raised a brow when you noticed the multicolored spiral around yanira’s profile picture at the top of your dash where stories were located. you tapped it just to be confronted with a boomerang of yanira, tiesha, adana, and taraji posing in a dressing room mirror. your eyes bored into the screen for a few seconds before you swiped out of instagram, treachery bubbling in your stomach. you released an exasperated sigh.

your mom was right. once again.

you glanced at a nearby tv on one of the walls in the food court and saw a picture of spider-man. you read the captions as they glided across the bottom of the screen, the clip of the hero fighting off a villain playing simultaneously. the news reporter narrated the highlights of the brawl and another one followed up his narration by concluding that spider-man had once again saved the city.

you smiled to yourself like a proud mother, then you thought about miles, not spider-man. you hadn’t talked to your boyfriend since the night before. as if he could read your mind, your phone buzzed against the table and lit up.

3 text messages @ 12:42pm

miles: hey, pretty girl (12:42pm) miles: i couldn’t text you this morning, i’m sorry (12:42pm) miles: villain of the week decided to get up early today (12:42pm)

so did you, but for different reasons. reasons that no longer mattered. you didn't even know why you were still sitting in that food court. you should've been en route to the train station by now. you felt so damn stupid.

you: that’s okay (12:43pm)

miles: are you okay? (12:43pm) miles: yk i’d never purposely ignore you, right? (12:43pm)

you: yeah, i know (12:44pm) you: it’s not you (12:44pm) you: i’m at the mall rn bc i was supposed to meet some friends here, but they never showed. nb wanted to answer the phone either (12:44pm) you: i checked instagram n it turns out they’re all here (12:45pm) you: just without me (12:45pm) you: sooo now i have to do the walk of shame back to the subway station (12:45pm)

miles: that’s so messed up, i’m really sorry (12:46pm) miles: did anything happen with them before this? (12:46pm)

you: no (12:46pm) you: i mean if it did then idk anything about it (12:47pm) you: my ma warned me about those girls. i should’ve listened 🤦‍♀️ (12:47pm)

miles: i got an idea. are you free now? (12:47pm)

you: i am 🤨 (12:48pm)

miles: take the subway to mine (12:48pm) miles: i have a surprise ❤️ (12:48pm)

you: i gtg grab smth from my place b4 that (12:49pm) you: but i’ll be there :) (12:49pm)

miles loved a message @ 12:50pm

you didn’t even realize the smile that had crept up on your face until it was almost ear to ear and a few seconds away from making your cheeks ache. you quickly stood up from your chair, the legs howling loudly as they scraped against the tile. you winced at the noise and picked the chair up to move it instead of pushing it in. afterwards, you began walking to the exit closest to the subway station. your pace slowed when you saw your “friends” in front of you. they hadn’t noticed you yet. you hoped they wouldn't. they were walking in a horizontal line, laughing and carrying bags on their arms from different stores. you thought it made them look like they belonged in mean girls, or some coming-of-age disney movie with a clique of popular girls who manage to be both unnecessarily cruel and loved by everyone for antsgonists.

when the group of teens finally spotted you, they briefly side-eyed one another before looking back at you, fake smiles gracing their lips almost immediately after.

did they think you were stupid, blind, or both?

“[name]!” adana called out to you when you were only a few feet apart. she dragged out the last part of your name too. you saw it for what it was: an obvious and weak effort to sound genuine. adana picked up her pace so she got to you faster than the other girls. “we thought you weren’t coming, girl!”

you remained tranquil, though you could see everyone else behind adana snickering and exchanging looks. your kept your face relatively blank, not wanting to show the girls before you even the slightest bit of chagrin. they’d get a kick out of it and your outburst would be the topic of their conversations for weeks to come. high school was truly exhausting.

“i mean, i got here at twelve like we agreed,” you shrugged. “i called you guys too. i guess your phones were off.”

“yeah, they were,” taraji chimed in, showing you the 'do not disturb' icon on her phone. you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her fraudulent tone.

you almost couldn’t believe that this was a real situation that you were somehow caught in the middle of. tiesha pouted, the friction between her lips causing her already-faded pink and brown lip combo to fade some more. you knew she was mocking you, but you only wanted to smile when you thought about the shiny gloss that was neatly slathered on your lips, much unlike hers.

“are you okay? have you been here by yourself this whole time?” tiesha interrogated. it felt more like instigating.

“i mean, yeah,” your eyes darted around nervously. lipgloss honestly wasn’t a big deal anyway, tiesha probably had more in her bag. your confidence boost was short-lived and had diminished. you were never the type to thrive off someone's disadvantage. either way, you could act. “but it didn’t really bother me ‘cause i was texting my boyfriend and we—”

“boyfriend?” adana laughed mockingly like it was unbelievable. like it was impossible. “i didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“what? i’ve told you guys this,” you frowned, your voice wavering to a degree.

you stared at the four girls with an eyebrow cocked up while they turned to each other and shook their heads, a few whispers floated in the air and into your ears. you had spoken about miles to these girls before, you were positive. he was never a secret, you just weren’t someone who posted online a lot. in fact, you only had instagram because your mom made you sign up. you’d never posted once. either way, it’s your relationship. you didn’t want everyone in your business, that’s where mess was rooted. that's how problems started.

what mess the unforeseen treatment you were receiving was rooted in? that was a mystery to you. you didn’t understand how the girls who were supposed to be your friends could switch up on you at the speed of light. there hadn’t been any fights or arguments between any of you—to your knowledge, at least.

you’ve always preached that there are two sides to every story, but you also preached communication. you all were cool last night while confirming today’s plans, now suddenly they know nothing about you?

nobody questioned you about miles. instead, yanira broke the silence that you’d spent lost in your thoughts, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable situation you were in with purely scraps. “well, good thing we found you now.” she pursed her lips afterwards, clearly stifling a laugh.

words couldn’t describe how stupid and naive you felt. they were trying to play you in your face and thought you were oblivious to it. you were starting to think so too. maybe they’d been playing in your face this entire time. maybe they’ve been acting for the duration of your friendship. maybe there were signs this entire time and you didn’t notice until now. maybe the idea of meeting new people thrilled you too much, and they took advantage of that when they realized it.

you weren’t lashing out over everything going on in the name of “staying calm.” you couldn’t grant anyone the satisfaction of knowing they struck a nerve, and bad. you were just as committed to keeping up with your act as they were to theirs, and nothing was going to make you let up.

“we were just about to grab some food,” tiesha added after yanira, smiling ever so innocently, as if she was oblivious to the treatment you were receiving. tiesha was the one you were the closest with, so that hurt. stung even.

“thanks, but i have other plans,” you faked a smile and made sure to look each one of your “friends” dead in each of their glowering, dull eyes.

adana’s face contorted in slight indignation. “how could you have plans? were you only gonna hang with us for an hour?”

“i was heading out before i ran into you guys,” you smiled and shrugged, checking the time on your phone. “gotta go now or i’ll miss the train. i’ll see you guys at school on monday.”

those insolent girls gave you the stink eye as deviated away. a few steps farther from fakery and you could already hear the whispers and the murmurs, even if the mall was loud. they sounded more like hisses the farther away you got, until they blended into the many, many sounds of your local mall. you were thankful to be free from that conversation—if you could even call it that.

your next chat oughta be a real one. though you hated it, confrontation was just around the corner.

❤︎₊ ⊹

“and then they acted like absolutely nothing was wrong… tiesha too!”

you were seated on one end of the couch in miles’ apartment, your legs crossed and resting on top of his thighs and a pillow between the arm of the couch and your back. miles hadn’t told you what the surprise was yet, and quite frankly, it had slipped your mind entirely. you were never good when it came to keeping your emotions in check. the fury boiling and seething inside you was so immense that you couldn’t give anything but what happened at the mall even half of a thought even if you wanted to. miles was steadily running his hand up and down the bottom half of one of your legs because he knew it’d help you calm you down. it was something he did by default while you were ranting, because when you were upset over something, you could go on for hours.

miles was a teen girl’s diary that could talk back. you had been on a twenty-minute tangent about what transpired at the mall, making sure to include even the most minor details that other people would view as futile. your boyfriend made sure you knew he was listening, nodding and making a few comments when you’d pause to catch your breath. most people would hate hearing someone complain for as long as you usually did, but miles didn't mind it. in fact, he enjoyed it. it wasn’t your anger that he savored, he just loved staring at your pretty face. you had miles in a trance forever and always. your beauty would forever captivate the boy and you were well aware. the difference between now and when you weren’t blowing smoke out of your ears was that miles could admire every feature without you teasing him for it, because you wanted him to pay attention. in any other instance, you loved pointing out how much he stares and making fun of him for it as if you’re not just as head over heels.

“i feel pathetic. i waited there for a goddamn hour. and you wanna know what the worst part about all of this is?” you exhaled, your irises peering directly into miles’.

even when you were upset, you could admire him. you were doing it in that moment. last time it was his eyes, now it was his hair. the sun rays looming from the unfolded blinds painted his afro a soft brown, singling out and defining numerous strands of those gorgeous spirals sprouting from his head. he was so perfect to you. you often had trouble believing you could call him yours.

“tell me,” miles retorted, slightly angling his head to the left.

“i wore a good outfit for nothing,” you whined, tipping your head back concurrently. “i just got this tracksuit! this is honestly ten times worse than wasting a good outfit on a boring day.”

you had on a black, velvet matching set from juicy couture. it was expensive and you were pissed to have had wasted your first wear on the day you found out your friends aren’t shit. miles remembered how excited you were to buy that outfit. you’d talked about saving the money for it for what felt like forever.

“you didn’t waste your outfit,” miles assured you, drawing confusion to your face almost immediately. “i still have a surprise, you know.”

“right,” your eyes lit up and you sat up straighter, disregarding your mood. “i was thinking about it on the subway and i have a few guesses.”

“i don’t think you’ll be able to guess this one, but you can try," he laughed lowly.

“cookies?” you started.

miles shook his head. “no.”

“a cat?”

“no, mami,” he laughed.

“ummm,” you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought. your dark-colored orbs traveled to the ceiling. “movie marathon night?”

“better.”

you snapped your fingers. “christmas movie marathon night."

“no movies,” miles clarified.

“beyoncé?”

“not beyoncé.”

“i can do your makeup?!”

“nope.”

“you got me,” you rolled your eyes and blew raspberries. “i give up. spill.”

“i know you wanted to go to the fair during the summer, but i didn’t take you because i knew you’d complain about the heat,” miles began. “now that it’s november, i figured it’d be the perfect time to go.”

“oh shit, for real?!” your eyes slightly widened as you swung your legs off of miles.

“i don’t see why i wouldn’t be,” he retorted. “we’ll take the train and walk the rest of the way.”

you jumped off of the couch in excitement and shuffled behind the piece of furniture to grab your purse. you glanced over at miles, who was now scrolling on his phone. you crept up on him from behind the couch and inched close to his ear.

“get up!” you demanded playfully, grabbing his shoulders. miles slightly flinched, and you burst into a fit of laughter at his reaction.

“okay, okay!” he stood up, rolling his eyes and smiling. “i was thinking we could wait a little bit before we went.”

“nope, no time to waste,” you insisted. you’d wasted enough of that with your “friends.”

your boyfriend told you about all of the abilities that he acquired when he became spider-man, one of them being his heightened senses. you used to expect them to go off whenever you were approaching him, or whenever you scared him, but they never did. when you inquired about it, miles told you that his senses were most likely there to protect him, therefore they’d only go off when they felt like someone or something posed a threat. he didn’t elaborate any further, but you got what you needed to out of it.

knowing that miles and his radioactive dna felt safe around you made you feel special.

❤︎₊ ⊹

you hadn't been to a fair since you were ten. you had gone with your cousins, your mom, and your aunt. back then, you weren't smart enough to know how to play any of the games correctly. you weren't tall enough to ride anything that looked cool to you, either. you despised always having to settle for the teacups and the carousel.

going back to the fair wasn't really a priority until that past summer. it just happened to be on the long list of things you wanted to do with miles.

the air outside was cool and crisp and the sun probably felt threatened by the clouds obstructing its view of the city with insomnia. you were relieved to not feel the sweltering heat beating down on you, especially since you had worn the sun’s favorite color in velvet. the leaves on the trees were turning orange now. you were entranced by one tree in particular, watching as the plant detached itself from the branch of the tree and danced in the wind on the way to the ground.

at the front gate, you held out your hand so one of the employees could give you a stamp, as did miles. the stamp was an orange leaf, but it didn't really show up on your darker-colored skin no matter how you squinted.

now that you were there, the fair was much more different than you pictured it to be. though you wanted to experience as much as you could, you had three main goals in mind: 1. win an unnecessarily oversized plush 2. take pictures in a photo booth 3. go on the ferris wheel

as long as you were able to say you did all of those things by the end of that night, you’d forget all the misfortune that the first half of the day bestowed upon you and forgive the universe for allowing it.

as you strolled the fair grounds with miles, you tried to catch a glimpse of everything there was to do as you passed. the fair was bustling with people. there were families, groups of friends, trios, duo. there were also couples, like you and miles. you even saw people by themselves every so often. your day could’ve ended like that, you were elated that you didn’t feel alone anymore, but you’d never say it out loud.

“whatcha wanna do first?” miles asked you. he was being just as observant as you, if not more.

you squinted your eyes ahead and a specific game caught your eye. “let’s play basketball, i’ll definitely whoop your ass this time.”

“big talk for someone who can barely even shoot baskets when we're on the court,” miles fired back. “whoever wins gets to choose what we do next.”

“fine by me,” you shrugged.

you two grabbed a single basketball from your lanes when you got over to the game. you saw miles adjust his grip on the ball from the corner of your eye. you reduced your eyes to slits in response and pressed your lips together.

when the bell rang and the timer began to count down, you both shot your balls into the baskets. both of them made it in. you were doing fine for the first couple of seconds, but then your balls began to veer away from your basket. you quickly glanced over at miles’ scoreboard to find that he was eight scores ahead of you. you furrowed your brows and began throwing balls into the goal again, making the first three shots and missing the last two. you were on autopilot from that moment on, throwing balls at your goal without stopping to celebrate nor gripe.

just as you reached down for a basketball to make another shot, the timer went off, indicating the end of the game. you looked up at your scoreboard to find that you’d only gotten twenty-eight shots. you could already feel miles’ eyes boring a hole through your head, patiently waiting on you to look over at his lane and accept defeat.

you gave in to defeat and scanned his final scoreboard: fifty-eight shots.

you finally looked over at the boy and he was smirking slyly. “yeah, so i’m tryna play the game with the water guns and the targets.”

you would’ve much preferred to find a photo booth next, but a deal was a deal, so you brushed off your loss. neither of you had a map, so you weren't sure where any of the games were. you two agreed to wing it, so you and miles roamed around for a while. you made small talk and miles teased you for being so confident that you'd win the last game.

finally, you came across the mini-game he wanted to play. your face lit up when you saw all the stuffed animals hanging from the rack above. you could get behind this.

the worker was on her phone, visibly nodding off until you two approached the game. you caught a glimpse of her rolling her eyes and shoving her phone in the back pocket of her black jeans. though she was clearly fed up by the presence of you and your boyfriend, she thoroughly explained the rules of the game. miles had to strike down moving targets with a water gun. the targets would move left to right, up and down, or both. he had to shoot all of them to win, and he only got five minutes to do so.

the worker hit the red button and miles was on the clock.

the targets were the typical kind: white circles with red circular stripes, and a red bullseye in the middle. you watched keenly as miles gripped the gun and squeezed one of his eyes shut for precision, pulling the trigger and shooting a line of water at two of the targets with ease. to his surprise, they began to move faster. he was still hitting them though.

the employee was paying miles no mind, already turned around and back on her phone, texting away. even though dealing with those targets was like breathing for miles, he decided to take a shortcut. just for fun.

while the worker wasn’t looking, miles handed you the water gun and used his web-shooters to swiftly shoot down the last five targets. your eyes enlarged at him in a panic and before you could really think about it, you sprayed the webbing off of the targets miles shot down with them.

the worker turned back around when she heard the winner’s bell ringing. by that time, the water gun was already back in miles' hand. the worker stared at the both of you in confusion. miles looked proud of himself. you nervously smiled and shrugged.

the worker rolled her eyes before they traveled over to the selection of toys and stuffed animals just above her. “pick a prize, any prize,” she said unenthusiastically.

“which one do you want, mama?” miles asked you.

“umm…” your voice trailed off. your eyes glossed over all the different plushies until one caught your eye. “stitch for sure.”

the worker nodded and unhooked the stuffed animal from the rack. she quickly handed it to miles and gave him a quick half-assed smile before resuming her bored expression. miles passed you the stuffed animal and you smiled brightly. you remembered this feeling, and you felt like a little kid all over again.

“he’s our son now,” you proudly declared.

“he’s too big for that,” miles teased you. “that’s a grown man.”

you gave miles a dirty look and punched him in the shoulder. “i won’t let you body shame our son.”

“my bad!” miles laughed and put his hands up in defense.

"yeah, whatever," you gave miles an eye roll and grimaced. you clocked the worker glaring at you two from the corner of your eye, so you grabbed miles' hand and hurriedly dragged him away from the booth. "we gotta go before she sees the pile of webs on the ground and has cps investigate us. she already hates us, what if she makes us return our son?”

"that's your main concern?" miles' eyes widened. "not the worker finding out i'm a superhero?"

“why would i be worried about that?" you inquired playfully. "i shouldn't have to lose my baby because you wanted to risk your identity."

you both laughed as you wandered along the paths of the fair aimlessly. neither of you knew what you where you were going next, but you were way too immersed in your debate to think about it. amidst your little parley, the sun finally escaped from the clouds' cover, the sky shifting to a warm orange and light shades of pink instead of the gray it had greeted you with.

“by the way, that was very much cheating,” you chuckled, thinking back to the mini-game. “you need to play fair next time. no web-shooters.”

“we had no opponents,” your boyfriend reminded you.

“the employee seemed like one,” you replied, thinking back to the looks she’d give you two. “i didn’t even know you had your shooters on you… anyway, that means stitch is an accident.” you frowned.

miles' nose wrinkled. “man, what?”

“i’m just chattin’,” you snickered.

“per usual,” miles shook his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder and shaking his head.

you two kept walking aimlessly for a little while, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted a photo booth. you briefly made eye contact with miles before briskly snatching up his arm, pulling him as you sped over to the booth.

“the booth’s not gonna disappear, damn!” miles from behind you, panting with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“it could,” you shrugged, gesturing to the curtain with your free hand. “get in.”

“stitch won’t fit in there,” miles pointed out.

you frowned and observed your surroundings. you knew stitch was bound to get stolen if you left him outside unattended. you continued to glance around, trying to come up with a simple, but logical solution. your eyes stopped on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench by herself, flipping through a novel. she had on a white sweater with a black dress underneath, her long hair braided down and resting on her shoulder. you told miles to wait by the booth and approached the woman with a light-hearted smile on your face.

“hi, excuse me," you spoke softly in an attempt to make a good impression.

the lady looked up at you, half-surprised. she adjusted the position glasses with her index finger, gently pushing them up the bridge of her nose. “oh, yes?”

“may you please watch this for me while i take pictures with my boyfriend in that booth over there? i promise we won’t be long.”

you looked back at miles and pointed in his direction. though he was clearly confused, he smiled nervously and waved anyway. you turned back around to face the woman and smiled again.

“of course i will, dear,” the lady replied, a smile gracing her lips. she waved back at miles.

“thank you so much,” you smiled graciously, setting stitch next to her on the bench. you were ready to go back to miles when the woman stopped you by calling out. you whipped around, biding patiently in the same spot until she spoke.

“cherish the memories that you’re making. all of them.”

you didn’t exactly know what she meant, but then your last trip to the fair came to mind. it was so long ago, but you had almost forgotten how much fun you’d had, even if you couldn’t do much. you never wanted to make the mistake of taking memories for granted whilst you’re making them, because then you'd miss them too much when they were in the past, at least that's how you saw it. the future is uncertain. life is cruel. that day at the fair as a toddler could’ve been the first and the only time you ever went. today could be the second and the last. you hadn’t really thought about any of that before. you hadn’t thought about how precious your memories really were.

“and make them with the right people.”

you knew what that meant.

your eyes lowered, confusion evident on your face anyway. “how do i know if they’re the right people?”

“you’ll know. intuition is real. if something feels wrong or right, you'll know. listen to what your body is telling you, my dear,” the lady replied, crossing one leg over the other and opening her book back up.

your eyes widened slightly as you were still a tad bit lost, but you nodded. "okay. i will."

you jogged back to the photo booth, excitement coursing through your veins. miles didn’t bother questioning your tactics this time.

you both sat down in the photo booth and miles drew the curtain shut. he sat back and you tapped the screen, selecting two printouts so you could both keep one. before you even got the chance to retrieve your wallet from your purse, miles was sliding a couple dollars inside the machine. you hadn’t even noticed them in his hand before.

“today is my treat. you’re not paying for anything,” he told you.

“boo. i can’t spoil my man every now and then?” you clicked your tongue. “i’ll get you those comics you wanted instead.”

miles shook his head and chuckled. when the timer on the screen began to count down from ten, you fixed your braids and made sure your clothes looked presentable.

“i have ideas,” you announced to miles. you'd be envisioning this moment in your mind for ages. “just let me lead.”

“you the boss,” miles conceded in compliance.

“cool,” you giggled. you slid your hand under miles' chin and pulled him closer until your lips were pressed onto his cheek. you stayed in the same position with your eyes closed until you heard the first flash. the next photo was simple, a shot of you and miles kissing. the third one was the both of you looking at each other and laughing. it wasn’t planned, but miles had made a joke so you didn’t have time to pose any differently.

in the following ten seconds, you made miles your canvas, scattering kissing all over his face. he was confused until he looked at the screen to see all that your lips were imprinted on his face with colored lipgloss. he kissed his teeth but then laughed. your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and that was the last photo. it was your favorite.

you waited for the photo strips to print and then left the booth. you immediately snapped your neck towards the bench to see your stitch plushy still sitting with the older lady. you sighed in relief and jogged over to her.

“thank you again!” you beamed, grabbing the stuffed animal.

you had a feeling she knew you were also thanking her for the unsolicited advice. you'd never understand how some older people were so good at reading others.

“you’re welcome, dear,” she waved goodbye and you waved back.

you wouldn’t forget what she told you.

you then went back to miles, expressing how happy you were that stitch wasn’t stolen. you went on and on about what a terrible mother you would’ve been, had you lost your child after not even twenty minutes of having him.

a few minutes later, miles caught you staring at some nearby concession stands. you didn’t eat anything before leaving his flat, but the line was a bit lengthy. you were silently trying to decide whether the wait would be worth it.

“you hungry?”

you nodded, settling for waiting in a long queue over an empty stomach. “starving."

❤︎₊ ⊹

it was getting late now. the sun was nowhere in sight and neither was the end of the night. the cool fall breeze felt nice against your soft skin. you wished that you could live in this part of the day for eternity, playfully bickering with miles as if you wouldn’t cling to him a few minutes later during the drop on a rollercoaster.

up to that point, you had gone on at least thirteen rides and played nine competitive mini-games. miles ended up winning most of them, despite him saying he’d go “easy on you.” you’d always respond to loss by saying you won in your heart, and he’d laugh at you. you’d pretend to be upset until you couldn’t fake it anymore and laughed along with him.

now, you and miles were sitting on grass, the synthetic kind. you two had shared a peculiarly long corn dog. you claimed that was enough for you, but miles ordered nachos too, and you shamelessly snatced up a sizable amount of them. food just tasted better when it wasn't yours.

after hours of being offline, you finally had a phone break. you sent your mom a text to check in with her before navigating to your email app. you scrolled through your recent until you came across the digital copies of the pictures you and miles took in the photo booth earlier sitting in your inbox. “i got the digital version of the photos. they're so cute!" you exclaimed.

miles grinned. “send ‘em to me later on."

“will do,” you agreed, looking back up to see him stood up from the ground with stitch in hand.

“i’ma rent out a locker to keep this guy inside of and then head to the bathroom,” he told you.

“okay, i’ll be here,” you nodded.

whenever you were out with anyone, you always thought it was common courtesy not to reply to texts that weren’t urgent. you never wanted to make anyone in your life feel like your focus wasn’t on them while you were spending time together. that being said, you hadn’t thoroughly gone through your notification center since you were at the mall. since miles was gone for a little, you thought it was a good time to deliver a few textbacks, because you knew that after tonight, you wouldn’t have any energy to do so until the next day.

you didn’t have any notifications from the calculus group chat, no surprise there. you had an older one from your mom from before you checked in, but she was just sending a tiktok. the next one down was tiesha and then adana. a pit formed in your stomach and you nervously chewed on the inside of your cheek. despite the uneasy feeling you had, you opened tiesha’s text first.

tiesha💞: [name] (5:46pm) tiesha💞: miles is your boyfriend?? (5:46pm)

‘not this again’ you thought.

you didn’t know what you were expecting the text to say, but it wasn’t that. this wasn’t a topic you wanted to circle back on, given everyone’s initial reactions. and you thought she knew—you thought everyone knew. maybe you weren’t as close with tiesha as you thought you were. or any of those girls.

you: yes... i’ve said this before (7:34pm)

you: literally with him rn. why? what’s the problem? (7:35pm)

your brows were knitted together as you anticipated a reply, your fingers drawing circles in midair just centimeters above the keyboard. you were biting the left side of your lip and your teeth were close to piercing the skin. tiesha's response came quick despite your late reply.

tiesha 💞: miles morales? the one i told you i like?? (7:36pm)

you read the text and had to do a double-take. your stomach dropped all over again. you had an exceptional memory. tiesha had never mentioned miles to you, like, ever. she hadn't mentioned any crush of hers to you at all. you just assumed she wasn't interested in dating.

you: i don’t remember you saying anything about like any miles.. but yeah he’s my boyfriend. (7:36pm) you: he has been for months now. i told y’all this, so idk why you were acting all confused @ the mall. (7:37pm)

tiesha 💞: if we knew then why would we be acting confused? 😐 (7:37pm)

you narrowed your eyes at the screen. you could tell her tone was meant to be harsh.

you: i don’t know, tiesha. (7:38pm) you: maybe for the same reason y’all were acting confused when you found me by myself at the spot that we agreed to meet at tday?? 🤦‍♀️ (7:38pm)

tiesha 💞: we said you could come hang w us (7:39pm) tiesha 💞: you’re the one who left (7:39pm)

you released an exasperated sigh as you read her response. you thought back to what the lady who watched stitch for you told you earlier. you couldn’t stick around these girls for any longer. they weren’t the people you wanted to make memories with. perhaps they were nothing more than a much needed lesson. you partially learned how to socialize, but you also needed to learn how to stand up for yourself. you were growing up. nobody else was going to do it for you.

you: i left bc you guys were acting weird towards me (7:40pm) you: idk what the deal is, but if there’s a problem you need to be straight up about it. (7:40pm) you: we all agreed to meet at the food court, but i opened ig to see y’all posing in a mirror while i’m sitting alone. why’d you even invite me atp?? (7:40pm)

tiesha 💞: i thought adana was lying when she said you got with miles, behind my back but ig she was right. (7:40pm) tiesha 💞: you weird af for that. you know i like him (7:41pm)

you: fym bro.. ??? 😭 i literally did not (7:41pm) you: and either way, he’s BEEN my boyfriend (7:42pm)

tiesha 💞: yk you only got w him to tick me off 🖕 (7:42pm)

you: ok wtv. (7:44pm) you: you guys showed me what kind of people you really are, so best believe i’m not sticking around anyway. you can tell that to eb else.(7:45pm) you: and i don't know what you thought you were doing. miles has been MY boyfriend for almost over a year now. he’ll continue to be my boyfriend for years to come, thanks. (7:47pm)

you didn't hesitate to leave the group chat and block those girls everywhere. they didn’t get to have access to you anymore. it felt like weight was lifted off your shoulders and you silently celebrated in your head. you were still in public and didn’t want to draw attention to you because you were cheering about cutting people off. at least you were free from the burden, even if you had a few less friends now.

“ready to go to the ferris wheel?”

you glanced up from your phone to see miles towering over you, both of hands in the pockets of his green puffer. you smiled big. this was the last thing on your checklist, and the thing you’d been looking forward to since you set foot on fair grounds.

“duh,” you giggled, reaching your arm out so miles could pull you up. after he did, you brushed off your outfit and cleared your throat. “so, do we know which way it is?”

“nope,” miles answered. “we’ll just start walking and hope we come across a map, or something.”

you raised and eyebrow and smirked. “so like we’ve been doing this whole time?”

“like we’ve been doing this whole time,” he echoed.

“i guess it makes it more adventurous,” you decided as you two began to walk away from the grass. you clasped your hand with his. “plus, i can tell you what happened with tiesha while you were in the bathroom while we look for it.”

miles’ eyebrows elevated. “something happened?”

“yep,” you shake your head in annoyance. “tiesha had a crush on you or something. apparently, she didn’t know we were together, so she thinks i got with you just to spite her.”

“how wouldn’t she know?”

“that’s what gets me!” you pointed your index at miles’ chest and tilted your head back in irritation. “i told her and the other three, so i don’t know why they were acting clueless! plus, she swears up and down i knew she liked you. that girl never said a word.”

“from everything you’ve told me today… it sounds like they just don’t like you,” he frowned, speaking in a way that told you he was trying not to hurt your feelings.

“they don’t,” you sighed, tilting your head up slightly. “that’s why we’re not friends anymore. i told tiesha to tell everyone else we won't be talking anymore.”

"really? are you okay?"

you reluctantly nodded. "yeah, i think i'm okay." you were telling the truth. in the moment, you were okay. maybe it'd bother you later, but all that mattered was that it wasn't bothering you now.

miles’ expression softened in relief. “that’s good. i’m glad you’re learning not to take b.s.”

you covered your mouth and snickered when you heard "b.s." for whatever reason, you thought it was humourous coming out of miles' mouth.

“no, really,” miles insisted anyway. “i’m proud of you.”

you didn’t ask for confirmation because you believed him even if you found the delivery funny. “thank you, miles.”

he smiled and pulled you closer, planting a kiss on your forehead. you grinned and pressed your ear against his arm. you made sure to take in and appreciate each and every step you took forward with your lovely boyfriend. you were cherishing a memory that wasn’t one yet, but tonight felt far too special not to. you absorbed everything to the scenery and the moonlight to the warmth that clinging to miles' arm gave you.

as if it was looking for you two and not the other way around, you and miles found your way to the ferris wheel without even having to seek out direction. surprisingly, the queue wasn’t at all demanding. when you got closer to the front of the line, you thought of something. you needed something to remember your favorite memory by, anyway.

“we should take a picture in front of the wheel,” you suggested to your boyfriend. “we can ask someone to do it for us.”

“bet,” miles pulled his phone out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he turned around and kindly asked a random girl standing in line behind you two if she could take the photo for you. she thankfully agreed and miles swiped to the camera app and handed her his cell. you two backed up a bit and the girl told you where to stand so that the photo would look better. you took a few pictures standing in front of the wheel side by side, miles’ arm around your shoulders. you two were hugging in one of the shots and he was kissing your forehead in the other.

after those pictures, you took miles’ arm and made him face a different direction. now your shoulders were to the camera lens and the ferris wheel. you snaked your arms around his neck and he instinctively placed his arms around your waist. this was one of your favorite poses, miles knew what to do by now.

you glanced down at your feet and took a step closer to miles so the distance you two wouldn’t look awkward. you lifted your head back up to meet his gaze. the boy was looking at you and you could’ve sworn you saw hearts forming in his eyes. he wasn’t just looking at you, he was admiring you. there was a difference, and you could tell.

but it’s not like you weren’t doing the same.

you whispered loud enough for only miles to hear. “i love you."

“i love you more."

you shifted onto your toes and miles slightly leaned down to reach you. your lips connected effortlessly, your eyes fluttering closed in unison. the ferris wheel lights glimmered behind you two as miles deepened the kiss. you mindlessly lifted your hands to his cheek, your thumbs gently caressing his soft, warm skin.

“got it!” the girl taking the photo called out.

you and miles slowly withdrew your bodies apart and she approached you two, handing miles the phone. you both thanked the girl and got back in line. your gaze was fixed on the structure above you. all you could think about was how pretty the sky was bound look from all the way up there.

you excitedly entered the cabin when it was finally you and miles’ turn. the designated employee shut the door and your eyes immediately glued themselves to the window. you were just barely going up, and you already had a better view of the fair and all of the lights.

“you seeing this, miles?” you questioned without even daring to rip your eyes away from the window.

“i am,” he smiled. your reaction to the view made him happier than any angle of the world around him ever could.

as you ascended higher up, you focused more on what was above ground rather than on it. the luminous stars painted the night sky like white spatters of paint would paint a black canvas. they glittered brightly above you while the ferris wheel slowly spun.

you turned your head back to miles to smile at him, but he beat you to it. you felt like the luckiest girl alive. you were thankful to have at least one person who was true to you. that alone was more than enough.

miles was more than enough.

the moonshine illuminated your beguiling features as you admired its fullness and its beauty. your head was rested on miles’ shoulder and his arm was sitting around your waist, the other one holding your hand in his lap. you knew you’d look back on this and recall that you never took this day or the feeling that came with it for granted, not once.

this felt so right—you didn’t know how to explain it. tonight was perfect and you would never change a thing. everything was how it should be. you were where you should be, you could feel it. this felt right in your soul.

maybe this was it. maybe this is what everyone was talking about.

maybe intuition is real.

❤︎₊ ⊹ bonus:

you and miles had concluded your fair date and were back at his place. you were going to stay for a while before returning to your own. your head was on his shoulder and your legs were curled up in the opposite direction. his hand was evolved in yours, as yours was in his. miles' mom was home and you definitely didn't want to give her the wrong idea by appearing exceedingly handsy.

“i had fun,” you gloated on the day you'd just had as miles browsed through netflix on the tv.

“are you sure? you seemed pretty over it when i beat you at basketball.”

you tongue clicked. "very funny, morales." you thought for a moment. “and thanks for taking me out, by the way. i know you were probably tired from having to fight all morning,” you exhaled.

“it’s no problem,” miles insisted, though you could tell he looked tired. “tomorrow’s sunday, i’ll get some sleep then.”

you both turned your heads when you heard the sound of a door being opened echoed through the hallway followed by rhythmic footsteps. even though you and miles both knew the footsteps belonged to rio, the hallway was dark, so neither you or him could see her until she stepped into the living room. her hair was down instead of being braided or put into a ponytail like it usually was. she was trying to slide a hoop into the earring hole in one of her ears. she was in one of her fancier outfits.

"jeez, you kids been on the couch all day?"

“we went to the fair,” miles replied, a smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

“oh really? explains the oversized oso on your bed. papa, didn’t you use to watch that one show… what was it called? spy oso?”

“special agent oso, mami,” miles corrected her, a hint of embarrassment fermenting in his voice. his teeth were clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed. “and that’s stitch, not a bear.”

you were stifling a laugh, one of your hands shielding the grin on your mouth while the other clutched your stomach. rio didn’t see, but miles did and he rolled his eyes at you.

“i left the snacks in your room, i’ll be right back," you told miles before you got up and disappeared down the hall.

“stitch? what’s a—” rio stopped herself and shook her head. “actually, never mind. how was the fair?”

miles answered her anyway. “it’s an alien, mom. from lilo and stitch. and the fair was good, we had a lot of fun. i can show you pictures later.”

“good,” rio smiled but then broke into a whisper. “miles, mejor la llevas a casa. don’t let that girl wander around all by herself at night.”

“alright, alright,” he put his hands up in defense. “you know i always take her home, calmáte.”

“alright, then. just making sure," rio retorted. "anyway, i’m in a hurry, i’m going to meet your dad, his coworker, and his coworker's wife somewhere. comportarse,” rio cautioned in a stern tone of voice, walking over to the couch and planting a kiss on her son’s cheek.

“i will,” miles promised as his mom hastily walked to the front door.

“tell [name] i’ll see her soon,” rio called out to miles before shutting the door.

a few moments later, you emerged from the shadows that lurked in the hall and took your seat next to miles on the couch. you scooted closer to him and pulled the blanket over both of your legs, handing him his bag of chips then opening your own. he hadn’t chosen something for you guys to watch yet.

“where’d your mom go?” you inquired, looking around.

“somewhere with dad,” miles answered, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. “she told me to say she’ll see you soon though.”

“aww,” you grinned. you really did love rio. you had to stop yourself from chuckling when you recalled her bringing up one of the shows miles used to watch as a kid. as hilarious as you found the whole thing, you held in your laugh anyway. you refocused your attention to the tv on the other side of the coffee table. it didn't take you long to realize that your beloved boyfriend still had yet to choose a movie to watch or a show to binge.

“what should we watch tonight?... homecoming?”

“jesus, no,” miles frantically shook his head, waving his arms around in a panic.

you were referring to beyoncé's 2018 coachella headlining performance movie. you’d made the boy watch the film with you more times than he could count on you two's twenty fingers combined. miles knew the name's every song being performed, the lyrics, and what order they were performed in. he had almost memorized all of the dance breaks, but not willingly. he swore that the word “homecoming” alone triggered some kind of ptsd. miles knew you too well. he was well aware that the renaissance movie would be a homecoming repeat, but maybe ten times worse. he'd been mentally preparing for that as well.

“booooo, you’re boring,” you frowned.

“thanksgiving is coming up, how about that one charlie brown movie?”

“only if we can binge christmas movies after.”

“deal.”

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