#jj and morgan calling hotch a BULLY and a DRILL SERGEANT???? when he is anything but lmfao

[emilyinsuits]

the way he so softly and gently grabbed her arm to get her attention and then put a firm strong hand on her shoulder to tell her upsetting information. ANWAYS i’m fine

[kimstills]

some reassurance - aaron hotchner x gn!reader

in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.

content warnings: a little hotch aftermath of s2e15 (nothing goes into detail), no haley in this story but no real mentions about her, the team is kind of mean, aaron and reader literally flirting even tho reid just got kidnapped not too long ago. word count: 1.5k a/n: inspired by this post by @greg-montgomery ! my man is not a bully <3 also not proofread oops

he’s a classic narcissist.

he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.

what’s my worst quality?

i have no sense of humor.

you don’t trust women as much as men.

you can be a drill sergeant sometimes.

you’re a bully.

you’re sure that if the words of the events from the past 12 hours have been ringing in your head since they first happened, they’re probably ringing in hotch’s head, too.

but you’re also sure that he’s trying to play it as if nothing happened. as if he didn’t get completely verbally obliterated by his team members.

you lost count of how many times you had turned to look at hotch from the moment reid had chosen him to be ‘killed’ after tobias hankel had asked him to pick someone from his team. from the moment you had all figured out where the devolving man was keeping reid.

from the moment you had saved your friend, to the moment the case had been wrapped up, to the moment your boss had just now ordered everyone to take the weekend off right after arriving back to the quantico headquarters, despite immediately locking himself in his office afterwards.

you had contemplated saying anything from when reid had first chosen hotch as hankel’s sacrifice, and you contemplate saying anything now as you stare up at his office, the curtains having been drawn and the door closed ever since coming back, even when everyone else was gathering their things and was about ready to leave.

you didn’t know what it was about hotch or your relationship with him, but you had always found yourself protective of him ever since breaking through the ‘cold’ and ‘stoic’ persona the team had made up for him and crafting a genuine friendship with him.

you had been the first to follow after him when he had left the room with all the computer screens where you and your team had watched reid ‘choose’ him, hot on his heels trying to reassure him that the young genius wasn’t in his right mind.

it had been impossible, though, watching in silent horror and palpable confusion as he asked the rest of his team to list his worst qualities while trying to realize that everything spencer said was on purpose.

what emily had said, you had let slide. she was new to the team, and although you reassured her that all would turn fine in her journey with you and the rest of the bau, you couldn’t deny the lack of trust the others had in her.

derek butted heads with hotch the most and was the most brazen when it came to standing up to him, never afraid to call bullshit even with knowing that hotch was hard on him because he knew of morgan’s potential.

what jj had said, though, you didn’t understand. there had never been a time where you could actively recall hotch being purposefully rude or mean to anyone without it being called for.

he could put people in his place and humble an officer or two when needed, but he had never been mean to you nor to anyone else just because. so, when the words ‘bully’ left jj’s mouth, you couldn’t help but furrow your brows and send a glare her way despite the traumatic events she was still reeling through.

spencer had said himself that he knew hotch would understand, so you could only assume that everyone else had assumed the older man wouldn’t take anything personal, especially after being the one to ask the question.

you had only given his shoulder a squeeze seconds after he ordered everyone to get some rest, offering a comforting smile.

but you knew that wasn’t enough.

so, before you even registered what you were doing, you brush past the startled and confused stares derek and emily give you as you stand abruptly from where you had been perched on your desk and march up the stairs to hotch’s office.

the determination in which you made your way up there contrasted from the gentle knock you raptured on his door, waiting patiently for the deep voice to allow you to enter.

at the sound of his permission, you stepped inside, smiling softly when aaron looks up to glance at you.

he’s standing on the left side of his desk, shuffling papers together and sliding them into a manilla folder. he seems tense, like he finally let himself feel what he was trying to avoid back at hankel’s house, but, solely from the warmth of your smile, his shoulders drop and his body languages is immediately relaxed by your presence.

“i thought i sent you home?” he asks, giving you a knowing look as he stacks the folders neatly on one of the baskets he kept in one of the corners of his desk.

you shake your head no, “not yet,” you close the door behind you gently, catching a peek of morgan and prentiss’ confused stares before turning to look at him.

aaron’s brows furrow at you closing his door, “are you alright?” he asks, stopping in his movements.

you shrug, “as alright as i can be, i guess,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. you feel yourself growing shy under his perplexed stare, but you push it down in order to ask, “are you alright?”

aaron blinks at you, the crease in between his forehead deepening even more, if possible. after a second, you can see the gears winding in his head before it all clicks together, the hardening stare he wore slowly dropping as he realizes what you mean.

“i’m fine.” he says shortly. you know from the many times you’ve accompanied other members of your team to check up on him that they would normally drop the questioning after that, but you weren’t like the rest of them. apparently.

“aaron,” you speak up, his gaze immediately flickering back up to you at your use of his first name, “i don’t think you’re a bully,”

your tone is genuine and comforting and he wants nothing but to completely delve into it. to bury himself in that same comfort and simply stay there as you whisper reassurances.

but the only thing he does in response is shake his head, continuing his maneuvering around his desk as a way to avoid what you were trying to do, “y/n, it’s okay.” he shakes his head, “i didn’t take any of it personally. gideon was right; reid wasn’t in his right mind during then,”

you shrug again, trying your best to get him to look at you without rounding his desk and standing right in front of him, “still. what jj said was pretty uncalled for,”

“well, i was the one who practically called for it,” aaron reminds you, looking up at you through his lashes as he continues to fix files.

you hum. you don’t know if what you’re trying to do is working or not, but you see the harsh lines around his brows soften and a faint pink bloom at his cheeks, one that makes your own face heat up.

“well,” you huff, “i also think that you’re pretty funny.” you shrug again, “really funny, actually.”

everything you’re telling him just now is true, but this is the most honest thing yet. derek, emily, and spencer all had their funny moments, yes, but aaron’s sense of humor was very similar to yours. and, to be fair, it didn’t come out as much due to him sticking to that false persona.

but when it did, you were the first one to understand the joke or the first to laugh and even the one laughing the hardest.

once again, aaron is frozen by your words, this time completely dropping what he was doing to stare you with bewilderment. he raises a brow, “you do?” his question is hesitant, like he doesn’t believe you.

and you know that he doesn’t. so you nod, “yeah,” you smile brightly at him, “you make me laugh a lot. even more than morgan.” this time you’re the one hesitating, taking a moment to wonder if what you’re doing is crossing a line between you and him. “or anyone else, really.” you tilt your head, “you’ve never noticed?”

aaron’s face is now a hot pink, and if it wasn’t for the sake of keeping up with his ‘stern’ facade, you’re sure he’d turn away and envelop his face in his hands.

he’s the one to shrug this time, “well, truth be told, i always get distracted by you.” a beat of silence passes before he clears his throat, averting his eyes to what you think is your shoes, “and your laugh.”

you beam despite the feeling of your face getting even hotter at his confession. you can’t help yourself from asking, “you like my laugh?”

“there’s a lot of things i like about you,” aaron admits, much more confident this time, a fond expression adorning his features.

you blush under his gaze, trying your hardest to conceal the wide smile that was threatening to appear on your face. you rock on your heels, hands folded behind your back shyly, “there’s a lot of things i like about you too, hotch.”

“aaron,” he says, not liking the way ‘hotch’ sounded after hearing you say his first name, “aaron, please,”

this time you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips.

no, aaron hotchner wasn’t a bully at all.

[stilin-ski]

forever is the sweetest con: chapter one

Chapter One: Genesis

A/N: hello there. glad to have you. I've got this posted on Ao3 already, but I've decided to crosspost here. Here we go.

Summary:

If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why. It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.

OR

Hotch/Reid through the years and what happens when things are left unsaid.

~000~

If asked now, he’d say it was obvious. Where things were going- where they’d always been going since that day in February, when the sharp chill of the Georgia air hardly touched the team when compared to the way fear turned their blood to ice in their veins.

In Aaron Hotchner’s veins, when the call came in.

JJ was gone, no one could reach her.

And Reid- Spencer- was gone, still, when they did eventually find her.

If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why.

It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.

“I choose-” He watched on in desperate fear, eyes never leaving the screen. He couldn’t bring himself to move, to look away, to close his eyes when he knew any second how that trigger could be pulled and Spencer Reid would disappear in front of him. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”

All eyes turned to him, but he remained frozen. He heard the sharp intake of breath from his left, felt JJ’s eyes slide over his expression. His face remained neutral, schooled thanks to years in this role. He, despite what Reid might say, had the best poker face of them all.

“He’s a classic narcissist.” Hotch watched intently as Reid continued, looking for any slight of hand, any tell Reid could be giving. It was a message, and he knew that. He just needed the cipher. Come on, Reid, he thought. I need more than that. You’ve got to give me more than that.

“He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4-” He burned the words into his memory. He needed to remember that, he knew it. He knew Reid. “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, falseness, vanity, and futility. For these shall be his recompense-”

Thank you, Reid, his eyes finally, finally slid shut as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Thank you.

He turned on his heel, exiting the room. Out in the living room of that old, dank house, Hotch retrieved the bible left on the side table.

“I’m not a narcissist-” He started, ready to start translating Reid’s message.

“Come on, Aaron, you can’t take anything he said personally-”

“No, Gideon, stop, stop-” He snapped, frustrated. That’s not the point, how do you not get it? His mind raced, and he briefly wondered if this was how Reid felt every moment of the day. “Everybody right now, what’s my worst quality?”

The team stared at him blankly, and the wild streak of anger and impatience he worked so hard to control flared again. That’s not the fucking point, he wanted to scream at them. It’s right in front of you and you’re all missing it. “Stop worrying about hurting my fucking feelings- tell me, now. My worst quality. I’ll start. I have no sense of humor. Prentiss?”

“You trust men more than women.”

“Okay, JJ?”

“You’re a bully.”

“Alright, I’m a bully. Morgan, go.”

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes.”

“Good, I’m all of those things,” And he was, he wasn’t blind to his own faults. Everything they had said was true, but- “Yet, none of you said I put myself above the team because I don’t. Ever.” Still, they didn’t get it, and he groaned in frustration. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism on the way here. He knew that I would remember that.”

“Hotch, we know you’re not a narcissist, man-”

“That’s not the point.” He finally snapped. “That’s not the fucking point, listen-” He looked up and finally, finally, he had their attention. “He quoted it wrong. Genesis chapter 23, verse 4, look-” He lifted the scripture into the light and read the correct quotation aloud. “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you, give me property for a burial place among you, that I might bury my dead out of my sight.” It registered with Gideon first, and Aaron could breathe a bit easier. “He wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose.” He insisted, holding eye contact. “He wouldn’t.”

“He’s in a cemetery.” Morgan muttered, and now Hotch could take a real breath.

The rest moved quickly. He did it, he found Reid, they were there and he just had to find where in the cemetery-

Then the shot rang out from just over the hill Aaron’s own two feet were standing on, and everything slowed down again as he ran towards it. “Reid!” He shouted. “Spencer!”

Not like this. Please, just not like this.

“Hotch?!” He doesn’t remember getting there. He doesn’t remember his path from the top of the hill down to the bottom, or who was following in his wake. He just remembers the relief flooding his chest as he pulled Spencer Reid off the earth and into his arms.

“You okay?” He muttered, one hand wrapped firmly around Reid’s waist while the other cradled his head.

“I knew you’d understand.” Spencer choked on a sob and tightened his hold, tears staining the collar of Hotch’s shirt. “I knew you’d understand.”

And so it began.

[maschotch]

You mentioning the fact that they're profilers is so real bc like it honest to god ASTOUNDS me how badly they all read hotch like he so so so so clearly cares for every member of the Bau WAAYYY more than he cares for him self and he's literally never shown otherwise??? Like even the whole drill boss stuff or whatever tf he said he's never aggressive with the group if they mess up he's always understanding but fair and most is pretty much the first one to comfort them (if the script allows) UNLESS he's going through some shit IE the whole divorce plot and foyet AND IT BAFFLES ME HOW EVERYONE FUCKING MISSES IT CONSIDERING ITS THEIR J O B

they’re all kinda bad at profiling each other but istg they have to TRY to understand hotch so poorly… i’m trying to think of a moment where he yells at them when they’re not directly putting themselves in danger or in the immediate aftermath of him getting attacked in his fucking home, but i cant think of anything?? he doesnt like being harsh with them and he learns the hard way with the elle situation that it doesnt get them anywhere. the only time he was unduly upset w someone was with emily in the beginning and that’s only bc he thought she was either a nepotism hire (which she kinda was) or a plant for strauss (which she kinda was)

he’s “strict” but like?? is he?? he does half their paperwork for them and they dont even know it. instead of doing things by the book and getting reid fired, he turned the other way and let him work through his drug problem. maybe he says “no” sometimes, but he usually relents anyway—like when jj has a feeling ab a case or when he calls the fucking vatican for emily. if he was a drill sergeant, would he let garcia keep a bunch of clutter on her desk and dress in bright clothing?? he doesnt coddle them or anything bc that’s not really his personality, but he’s gentle w them and even praises them when he knows they need it. he doesnt always step in and help when he should (i think that honestly has more to do w him being self conscious than anything—he doesnt want a drill sergeant/bully to make things worse), but he keeps a close eye on each of their wellbeing and will quietly urge one of the others to help out if someone’s in a tough spot

sure he doesn’t smile a whole lot and he’s known for his perpetually neutral face, but at the same time it’s not very hard to tell how he’s feeling. he’s effective at his job, he’s good at playing the tough guy, but tbh he let’s things get to him easily. he takes their criticism to heart and does his best to be better. he HATES seeing any of them hurt: ever notice how after what happened with elle he never uses his own agents as bait like that again? he either uses himself (like the fight club episode) or one of the team volunteers and he relents (like emily in the omegaverse swingers episode). they misread his social awkwardness as being cold when really i think he’s just mildly uncomfortable being the center of attention in an unprofessional setting.

it’s wild to me how frequently they misjudge him. i think he kinda knows and almost encourages it?? while still considering their judgements genuine?? morgan is a great example: of all his subordinates, morgan has worked with him the longest, since before he was in charge of the team. so you’d think morgan would have the best insight. but morgan has a complicated relationship w authority figures and tends to be automatically defensive out of habit. essentially, he’s been projecting on hotch since day one and has been blinded by the convoluted series of lenses he sees hotch through: as a constantly rotating mixture of buford, stilinski, and his father. it’s prevented him for actually seeing hotch for who he is, and hotch seems to make no real effort to correct any of those presumptions. but hotch still takes it personally when morgan criticizes him (prob bc it feeds his own negative view of his self worth and uses it as justification for whatever self loathing bullshit he’s on)

basically, hotch knows everyone has skewed perceptions of him and is fine letting their delusions continue uninterrupted—encourages it, even. he’s more comfortable receiving scathing remarks, even if they’re inaccurate, bc it allows him to continue his own delusion ab his place in the world. if they hate him (or if he thinks they hate him), it gives him a reason to hate himself. which is why i think he kinda likes that they’re bad at profiling him. it’s a way to receive that negative attention without actually being vulnerable. it’s a very very passive manipulation—more like he’s allowing them to manipulate themselves—that feeds his self loathing. i think he does it on purpose, so i cant necessarily fault the others for so drastically misunderstanding hotch. especially since they do get better at it over the seasons: they’re able to see through his defense mechanisms a little more, even if they still cant see him clearly

[hotchley]

heavy is the head that wears the crown

Hey besties...

This was my first CM fic, and it was only on ao3, so I am now cross-posting it almost a whole year later because I changed my url and was redoing my masterlists so... yeah.

IT IS FROM A YEAR AGO PLEASE DO NOT COME FOR ME IT'S ALMOST EMBARRASSING JUST COPYING IT </3

Trigger Warnings: depictions of child abuse, aftermath of abuse, canon-typical violence, references to self-harm (it’s not depicted, but hotch has some unhealthy thoughts in the hardwick scene), heavily implied sexual content

read on ao3!

I

He remembers the last time his father laid a hand on him perfectly. He remembers it perfectly because it was the most painful. When he was feeling particularly low, he wondered if his father knew he was going to die and wanted to watch his oldest son try and hold himself together as one small act of defiance.

He remembers how each strike with the belt hurt more than the last. He remembers how he tried to keep his voice down, because Sean was sleeping, and he didn’t need to ever find out that their father was a bastard. He remembers that the pain became unbearable the moment his father pressed the still lit cigarette to the cuts and that he had screamed so loudly, he was scared the neighbours would come running. Remembers how his father had yanked his hair so hard more tears pooled in the corner of his eyes.

But they didn’t fall. Not when his father shoved him to the ground and left him to deal with his injuries himself. They didn’t fall then because he knew that for one more night, his mother and Sean would be safe from his touch. And that would have to be enough to keep him going.

They didn’t fall when the nice lady from reception asked to speak to him and told him how sorry she was but the hospital had phoned to say his father was dead after suffering a heart attack at work. He didn’t cry then because he was too busy thinking about how Sean was going to be destroyed. And his mother would likely retreat further into herself, leaving him to pick up the pieces and take over the home.

He didn’t break at the funeral. Sean was clinging to his hand, tears streaming down his face, even as he didn’t understand why daddy wasn’t coming home. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream, because despite everything that man had done to him, he had never touched Sean, not even when he had been at boarding school and unable to protect him. But he didn’t, because neither he nor his brother had access to their inheritance, and they needed to survive. His mother wouldn’t work- and he wouldn’t want her to. But it meant it was up to him.

So he looked at himself in the mirror, put the mask that transformed him from Aaron, the delightful teenager who was in the theatre club, into Mr Hotchner, the man who could provide for his family and be who they needed him to be.

It was almost too easy.

II

If he thought about it for too long, he would classify the whole incident with Vincent Perotta as his version of a breakdown. As the garrotte tightened around his neck, and as it became harder and harder to fill his lungs with the need to live, all he could think of was his father and Haley. His father smirking as his eldest son finally met the end he deserved- killed by someone he should have been able to defeat in the dark because he had gotten distracted- and Haley, home with a son barely old enough to hold his own head up.

Haley.

The image of her holding their son gave him the strength to shove the unsub- he didn’t deserve to be named- away. And then the flashlights came into view and he knew he was safe. They had come to get him. He wasn’t alone. The relief was quickly overshadowed by the officer they still had to find, and the confession they still needed. He should have known Gideon would know why he had refused everyone’s offers of help. Why he hadn’t even loosened his tie. The ghost of his father saying he deserved the pain still haunted him.

He hadn’t wanted to finish it. He had wanted to stay as far away from that bastard as he could. But Jason Gideon never asked questions. He phrased demands as questions. So he put back on the Unit Chief mask and said sure. But he knew as soon as he said some that he had messed up. He just hoped nobody else would notice.

The world had never been kind to him.

He didn’t know why he didn’t just walk out without responding. Why he chose to stand there and admit- or as close as he would ever get to admitting- that his father had abused him. That the shards of his words and actions still broke his skin and damaged his heart and filled his lungs with poison that he had to inhale. Maybe it was because he needed to remind himself. He was not his father, and he never would be.

Haley was awake when he got home. He felt bad, she needed all the rest she could get, but she had smiled, and said she loved him. It sounded like a reminder rather than a confession. He had managed to smile, gratefully getting in the bath she had run for him, scrubbing the hands of a murderer off of his skin.

She made love to him that night. Took her time, brushing her lips over every bruise and scar. He had wanted all the lights off, still disgusted by the sight of his father on his body, but she had asked if having the lamp on the dimmest setting was okay, and he had said okay. She said she was so proud of him- was always so proud of him. And she didn’t laugh at the tears that fell after.

He wondered what Jason had said when he phoned, but he never asked.

III

After Reid killed Tobias Hankel, he kept it together. He had to. Because as clever as Spencer thought he was being, everyone knew he was keeping information from them. And Hotch wasn’t going to let him become the next Elle. He wasn’t going to let Gideon convince him everything was fine, because it wasn’t. And it wouldn’t be. Not for a while. Maybe not ever. But that wasn’t the priority. The priority was making sure Reid would be okay at the hospital. Then to get home. Then to give his statement. It wasn’t about making him better. It was about helping him get through each stage.

He didn’t break, because his team already hated him. Reid had called him a narcissist, and whilst he knew what was really being said, he couldn’t help but worry his youngest agent thought it was true. He knew Reid had initially believed what he had said to Phillip Dowd, but they had worked to move on from that. He thought they had. Maybe they hadn’t. Maybe Reid really did think Hotch viewed himself as better than everyone. If only he knew the truth.

Morgan had called him a drill sergeant, but he could handle that. Prentiss saying he trusted men more than women wasn’t hard to understand. He could argue that in her case, it was justified. But JJ calling him a bully without any hesitation had been like a knife to the heart. Worse than that. It had been like a small paper cut on each part of his body, so the pain would never fade. Not properly, because as soon as it stopped in one place, it started in another. He had tried so hard to love all of them. Especially her. She reminded him of Haley. Not because he was attracted to her- he wasn’t, no matter what rumours flew around- but because of her spirit. Her kindness. Her warmth towards everyone. Her willingness to trust. Her ability to be good, despite all she had seen.

Jason had been the only one to not say anything. But Hotch knew he would’ve had something to say. That was why he’d cut them off, started talking about an argument he had forgotten until then.

He didn’t break that night. Or the night after. He pulled away from the team, observing from a distance. He didn’t deserve to cry. Not when it was his fault Reid was struggling with a drug addiction he thought he was hiding. His fault JJ couldn’t even look at dogs without shaking.

It was his fault. He would lock away his need to fall apart until he could look at them without guilt clouding his mind.

IV

Deep down, he knew he would be going back to an empty house after leaving for the case. Still, it was painful to see almost every trace of Haley and Jack gone. It hurt to look around the place they were meant to raise their son together and only see his own clothes and shoes. The plates Haley had picked because they were more fun than the set from her parents. The crib he had assembled before leaving. Jack had migrated to a bed, but they had just never gotten around to getting rid of it. The photos from the case that had ended everything.

He sat on their bed, head in his hands. At some point he started crying. For everything he had done wrong, for everything he was going to still screw up.

And then the phone rang. And Spencer was speaking too quickly for him to understand everything that had happened, but he managed to grasp the most important fact: Gideon was gone. He had left them. With nothing but a letter, addressed to Spencer, that he had left at the now cleared out cabin.

Despite the weariness stamped into his bones, he told Spencer to stay where he was. He drove to pick him up, took him back to his apartment. Said Haley would understand when he started to panic about taking him away from his wife. He rocked Spencer to sleep, singing the same lullabies he heard Haley sing to Jack when he wouldn’t stop shrieking. Noted there were no new marks on his arms and breathed a sigh of relief. He had to stop pulling away from Reid now Gideon was gone.

He couldn’t believe it. Well. He could believe Gideon leaving, always knew the day would come where he would decide he couldn’t do it anymore, and he had thought that day would be when Bale blew up six of their best agents, but when it didn’t happen then, he had dared to hope that it would never happen. He couldn’t believe Gideon had left the way he had. With only a goodbye to Spencer.

And he wanted to be mad at Spencer, because he was there and it would be so easy, but he looked at his sleeping figure, and knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault. But he was mad at Gideon for only saying goodbye to Spencer. Because he had been the one to step up and become Unit Chief when Gideon was placed on leave. He had sacrificed his marriage and his life to make sure the team stayed together. Him. Not Morgan, definitely not Reid. Wasn’t he worth saying goodbye to? Had he really meant that little to Gideon?

For the next few weeks, everything served as a reminder. Reid quoting something or other reminded him of a book Gideon had recommended. A smile from a stranger in the street reminded him of Haley. The silence of a too big house reminded him of how he had failed. A comment about fallen agents made him think of Jason and Elle.

He wanted to walk away as well. Beg Strauss for that transfer and go to Haley. Tell her he would do anything, if she would just come home. But his team- the team Gideon had already abandoned- were depending on him. They didn’t hate him now, but they would if he left as well. So he helped JJ with the requests, took interest in the languages Prentiss could speak, offered to listen to each and everyone of Reid’s lectures. He let Morgan take control every once in a while.

And if he became more Hotch than Aaron in doing so, then that was the price he would pay for not being better.

V

Chester Hardwick was- for lack of a better term- an absolute shit show. Going into a cell with a dangerous serial killer and picking a fight with him had not been the plan. The initial plan had been to get in there, do the interview as quickly as possible, drive back to Quantico in silence- Reid never spoke on the return journey (he had never fully decided if he hated or loved that)- and ignore Haley’s demands for another night.

Then JJ phoned. And he knew she was trying to keep her tone professional, to not pass judgement on his soon-to-be ex-wife, but it was impossible to miss. Haley had clearly made it into a big deal that he hadn’t answered her calls. It angered him. He didn’t want to give up his son, or only be able to see him on the weekends because it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t guarantee he would even be available on the weekends, but he could guarantee to be there after a case.

Haley didn’t want to accept that. She didn’t want to amend the custody agreement. He didn’t want to go to court and have his faults brandished, but he didn’t want to back down. Which meant they were stuck. And she knew he would eventually be forced to give in and lose.

Again.

He told himself he needed to keep it together. He wouldn’t shout at Reid, not when he was still recovering from Hankel, from Gideon, from all the other bad things that had happened to him since then. And if he was being completely honest, he probably couldn’t shout at Reid, even if he needed to. For although he knew Spencer wasn’t the same innocent, uncoordinated mess that had joined his unit five years ago, he was still so good and kind. Hotch wouldn’t take that from him by shouting because he was frustrated at himself.

Instead, he provoked a dangerous serial killer. That had been one of the few things Haley had never gotten wrong about him: he never did things half-heartedly.

So instead of asking questions to help understand why Hardwick had killed all those women, he shrugged his jacket off, loosened his tie (the memory of cold metal pressed against his neck still woke him even now) and raised his hands on a man who could very easily take any of the things in the room and kill him.

It was stupid. It was reckless. It was the kind of behaviour his father would beat him for, that Haley would shout at him for, and that Rossi would probably give him a round of applause and a drink.

But he was so angry at everything and everyone and he needed to relieve the tension but he couldn’t do it by going down the firing range and shooting a gun because it wasn’t the same. Maybe he was exactly like his father in that respect. Maybe it was the first step into becoming the monster he always knew he would be. It was unfair to say all abused children became abusers. It was fair to say profilers were just unsubs on the right side of the law. Sure, they did the right thing, but at the end of the day, they knew how serial killers and child abducters worked. Crossing the line wouldn’t be hard for any of them.

He raised his fists at a serial killer because he needed to feel something under them. He needed to release the anger and sadness and guilt that flowed beneath his veins. Needed to see the blood on his fists from punching something too hard as a reminder he was human. And he knew that wasn’t healthy, but it was the truth.

Something he had never been good with.

It was stupid. And he should have- could have, very easily- died.

But of course Reid saved him. Dr Spencer Reid, who was always rattling off statistics nobody understood, who had almost been sick at his first crime scene, who had teared up during his first solo interrogation, saved him. By playing to his strengths. He went on and on about the effects of abuse on a child, about the psychology behind finding release in murder, about what made someone into a serial killer.

He kept his audience of one captive for so long that the guards came and unlocked the door without Hardwick ever laying a hand on either of them. He managed to talk a serial killer out of murdering two federal agents. Hotch felt so proud. And disgusted with himself. Reid had talked long enough for the anger to evaporate into thin air and the shame to rain down on him like a storm.

What had he done? It wasn’t falling apart, because he knew what it was like when he fell apart, and that wasn’t it, but it was horrifying. Humiliating. He had put himself and his own issues above Reid’s safety.

He was every bit the narcissist Reid had once described him as being. The thought made him sick. Today it had been a serial killer, but how long before it became his team? Before it became his son?

He felt sick. But he forced himself to get behind the wheel, rejecting Reid’s offer to take over the driving for a little bit. He knew Reid hated driving. But when they had been on the road for a good twenty minutes, and the younger agent still hadn’t said anything about the journey back, or the sky, or the cars around them, he knew he had screwed up.

Scratch that. He had fucked up.

Which was why he told Reid the truth. He hated speaking about his personal life, had always struggled with being open with others, especially the people he worked with because he was the Unit Chief and that meant he was supposed to be there as a strong presence that couldn’t be harmed, but Reid deserved to know why Hotch had been so willing to try and get himself killed.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have endangered you like that. It was wrong, and if you want to say something to Rossi or Strauss, I won’t stop you,” he said, after his confession that he couldn’t get what he wanted.

“I won’t say anything Hotch. You would never purposely disregard my safety. Even if you put yourself at risk, any harm that happened to me wouldn’t be deliberate. I know you kick better than a nine year old girl, and that you were holding back with Dowd because you didn’t want to hurt me too badly. And you didn’t,” Reid replied.

His throat went dry. “Hurt you too badly? As in, I did hurt you?”

The sudden fear he radiated made Reid pause. A bad move. Hotch was a damn good profiler, and whilst he always tried to follow the no inter-team profiling rule, some things were just too obvious to miss.

“I need to pull over,” he said.

Reid nodded, face pale and terrified. Luckily, he didn’t follow when he got out the car. And when he returned, Reid handed him a bottle of water and a mint.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he had whispered after Hotch had begrudgingly taken both.

“I hurt you,” Hotch replied. There was no point in trying to be the Unit Chief now. Reid had dismantled his shields by accident, and no suit or back-up weapon could prevent Aaron emerging and taking over from SSA Hotchner.

“But it wasn’t intentional then, and it wasn’t intentional with Hardwick. And you would never hurt Jack. Not in the way you think you may. I’m not saying you’re never going to make a mistake, you will, but you won’t hurt him the way your father did. You’re too good of a person to do it. I saw you holding Jack. The love in your eyes couldn’t be faked. And the way you rocked me to sleep after Gideon left was gentle and kind. You made a mistake with Hardwick. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect. Not with us.”

Hotch stared at him. “I- how do you know about my father?” he asked, defences rising. The only members of the team who had known were Gideon who never followed the rules, and Dave, who had always had a soft spot for him.

Spencer flushed. “I didn’t profile you. We shared a room that one time, and the door to the bathroom wasn’t closed properly so I saw the scars. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been looking.”

“It’s okay,” he said, because it had to be.

The younger man didn’t seem convinced.

“Spencer.” The use of first names always drove points home. “It’s fine. I suppose everyone was going to work it out at one point or another. Thank you for not bringing it up then.”

When they pulled into the car park at Quantico, Reid did something very unexpected. He hugged Hotch. For a moment, he stood there, frozen because it had been so long since someone had done more than shake his hand that a hug felt so foreign, but then he regained control of his body and he bought his arms up and around him.

“Thank you Spencer,” he said.

“You once said to JJ that it’s okay if you lose it every once in a while. That it reminds us that we’re human. I think you should take your own advice.”

He nodded. But he didn’t.

He signed his divorce papers without contest. Haley was right: Jack deserved better than a father who could never confirm whether or not he would be there. He deserved better than a father who woke up in the middle of the night, and he definitely deserved better than a man who’s biggest fear was not that someone else would hurt their child, but that they would be the one to hurt them.

He signed the papers.

And then he got spectacularly drunk.

VI

He used to love New York. He had never worked there, but one of the few holidays he’d had with Haley that hadn’t been cut short was spent in New York. They’d never had a case there, which was why they were both so eager to go.

It had been so nice, to be in a city, and not remember an unsub who tortured women then left their bodies in ditches, or who had preyed on vulnerable children and then manipulated them into joining their twisted cults.

He had loved New York.

And then Kate Joyner had died.

He wasn’t stupid, and his hearing wasn’t damaged when they first arrived. He heard JJ’s remark about her appearance and the tone in Emily’s voice when she had repeated his earlier statement that they had liased together.

It embarrassed him. If he had heard, then Kate definitely knew what they were saying. Not only did she have better hearing than he did, she was also pretty good at reading lips- a skill Hotch had learnt in SWAT and taught her for fun. And she had been staring at them, not him, when they spoke. It wasn’t going to be difficult for her to fill in the gaps.

They hadn’t slept together. He had been happily married at that time, still affectionately calling Haley at every opportunity. And she hadn’t been interested in him like that. They had just been friends that worked well together. He had found it easy to open up to her, and she had liked him because his Southern upbringing meant he was nothing but a gentleman to her.

Then they were both blown up, only he walked away with nothing but a ringing ear and a breaking heart. She would never do anything ever again, and it was all his fault. Everyone he cared about either left or died- his mother, Haley, Kate and Sean.

“Look man, I’m not going to pretend you’re fine because I’ve called your name twice and you haven’t even raised an eyebrow so you’re going to pull over and I’m going to drive,” Morgan shouted.

Hotch slammed the brake far too hard, and turned, glowering at his subordinate. “I could’ve crashed the car then. You don’t need to yell.”

“Yes, I do. What is going on with your ear?”

“It’s nothing.”

Morgan looked at him, the disbelief clear, but eventually rolled his eyes and turned to stare out the window. Hotch took the hint and started driving.

When they got back to Quantico, Rossi was tucked away in his office, and when Hotch looked through the paperwork he needed to fill in, he found half of it missing. JJ had left a note with her file saying she had moved his meeting with Strauss to next week. Garcia had left a batch of chocolate cupcakes with one of her many soft toys. Prentiss had already written her report, with no evidence of Reid’s input. Morgan appeared with his not too long after they returned. Reid offered to take the consults he had to do before he went home to an empty apartment.

He accepted, the impossible smile making an appearance.

His team- no, his family- were always going to be there. He realised then that he could depend on them. That they wanted him to depend on him. Because they could all trust him with their lives, and everything they had done since landing had been to show him that they understood. That he wasn’t alone.

His joy lasted till the door to his apartment swung open, and he was greeted with the impersonal furniture, boxes he hadn’t had the time to unpack. The absence of a smiling blonde and excited little boy pretending to be a superhero.

Instead of breaking, he pulled out a file about a case involving missing women. They had all been pregnant, unmarried and blonde. He hadn’t wanted JJ to see it. So he worked on a profile late into the night, only putting the file away when he was pleased the police would be able to find the unsub.

He couldn’t protect his team from a lot, but this. This he could do. It was better than them realising he wasn’t worth baking for, wasn’t worth their attempts of comfort and walked away.

I

Haley was dead. She had been killed in the home they were supposed to raise their son in together, all because he had wanted to be a hero and refused to take the deal. The deal she had never found out about and would never find out about because Foyet had murdered her. It was stupid, but Hotch wondered what would have happened if he had taken the transfer. It wouldn’t have been this.

Foyet was dead. He had killed a man with nothing but his bare hands. He was worse than his father. He had killed a man who said they had surrendered because he was angry. And he knew Foyet would have never surrendered. He would’ve waited for Hotch to move away and then killed him, found Jack and made good on his promise. He knew that, logically, there was no other option.

It didn’t make him feel any less like a monster. That was part of the reason why he had sent Jack away as soon as possible. He didn’t want his son to see him covered in blood long enough for it to become a proper memory. Didn’t want his son to see it and start asking if his daddy had been hurt by a bad guy because he didn’t want to explain that this time, daddy had been the one to hurt the bad guy. He had hurt him so badly that he was never coming back.

And neither was mommy.

The only real parent Jack had ever had was gone, and he didn’t know what to do. He had never prepared himself to have the conversation about death with Jack. It was morbid, but he had always assumed Haley would be the one explaining that sometimes bad things happen to good people, and because of that, dad wasn’t going to be coming home anymore, because he was going to go to heaven instead.

He’d never been particularly religious. But he wished he was. At least then he could believe himself when he finally told Jack that mommy had gone to heaven like some of the other kids’ grandparents.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he ever thought having kids was a good idea. He hadn’t wanted them at first. He hadn’t wanted to bring a child into the world when so many people were evil and malicious. Hadn’t wanted to put anyone else at risk of becoming the object of his anger. He didn’t want to repeat the actions of his father and become the monster in the closet he had always been terrified of.

Then he had met Haley, and she reminded him of the stars. For she brightened even the darkest moments, and he just knew that no matter what he became, if she had his children, they would shine like the brightest star, and they would never become irreparably damaged by his own paranoia and fear because she would be there for them.

Now she was gone. And it was all his fault.

But he managed to keep it together at work for his team, and at home for his son.

Jessica had been a lifesaver, taking Jack out when Hotch needed a break, staying with them until Jack had settled into the apartment properly. She even dug up old albums and gave them to Hotch, saying that he deserved to have them. The two of them had grown closer, and he was happy for that, but he just wished it hadn’t taken the death of Haley to let them bond. Jack had nightmares about a loud bang, and sometimes he would wake up crying for his mother, but Hotch had already started looking into therapists for children, and he also sat with Jack, stroking his hair and reading him stories till he fell asleep.

He never told Jack he too had nightmares about lots of things, and sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night, terrified and wanting someone there to comfort him. Both Jessica and the bureau psychologist he was forced to see had told him to, but there was something- pride mainly- that prevented him from ever admitting to his son that he wasn’t okay.

At work, he compartmentalized as much as was humanly possible. The team were doing their best to cope, and he knew the only reason he’d been offered the option to take his retirement package or return, as opposed to being fired without any benefits, was because of the accounts they had given Strauss. Accounts that framed him as a man desperate to bring a killer to justice and protect his son, as opposed to a man who had become obsessed with one particular case that had hindered his ability to do his job.

He never said thank you, because he knew they wouldn’t understand. In their eyes, he had been heroic. He had done what any of them would have. But Hotch knew he hadn’t. He knew his team. They were better people than he was, and they would never have killed a man who had surrendered, no matter how bad their crimes had been.

So although he wasn’t okay, he kept it together. He kept it together for as long as he could, and he ignored his own broken heart, ignored the constant replay of the final conversation he’d ever had with Haley and the sound of gunshots ringing out. He ignored the nightmares and the memories, the sick feeling that overwhelmed him every time he remembered that Foyet had won by destroying him and then moulding him into the person he’d sworn not to become.

He stayed strong because he had to be. But it was becoming harder everyday as the threads that held him together frayed with every scream from his son’s bedroom, every sympathetic smile Strauss gave him in meetings, every hand Jessica placed on his shoulder, every file his team tried to hide from him and pass to Rossi to sign off on instead.

It was three months after that the thread finally snapped clean in half. He had thought he was getting better. Jack certainly was. His twice-weekly trips to the therapist were proving to be beneficial as he was sleeping through the night more often and finding it easier to talk about his mom, even if he didn’t fully understand what was going on. Jessica had gone back to work and was slowly moving through her own grief as she tried to honour the memory of her sister by sharing her memories with her son and ex-husband.

Aaron thought he was doing the same, but maybe repressing and coping had become the same in his mind.

It was late, but Jack had gone to see his grandparents with Jessica and he didn’t fancy going home- not when the rest of his team were still there- so he got a coffee, ignored their concerned faces and started working on a consult he hadn’t got round to the previous day.

He dropped his mug the moment he opened the case file and saw who the victims were.

All blonde women. All divorcees. All of them had been the ones that filed, and all of them had filed because they felt neglected. All of them had been awarded custody of the child, without a court hearing. The police were stuck because they couldn’t find anyone in the local area who had been married to a blonde woman and had one young child.

The sight of their bodies, mutilated and bloody, made him sick. The images blurred as he tried to blink away tears. Next to the photos of their dead bodies were the pictures of their faces, genuine smiles and sparkling eyes, blissfully unaware of the evil that was about to happen.

He didn’t hear the mug shatter into nothing as hot coffee went all over the wooden flooring. All he heard was a gunshot, then another and then a third, and Foyet taunting him, saying he would find Jack and show him the bodies of his dead parents. Maybe he screamed, maybe he couldn’t make a sound, but he couldn’t see anything properly as tears streamed down his face and made everything unfocused and fuzzy.

“-you hear me?” someone asked.

He blinked. Why was he on the floor? What had happened? He looked down, saw his knees pulled to his chest, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“What?” he managed to say, voice hoarse.

“What’s wrong?” Rossi asked, kneeling beside him.

He looked up, saw Spencer and JJ in the room, Emily and Morgan in the doorway, and Garcia behind them.

“Nothing,” he lied. He was supposed their leader, the mom of the team- he had grown to accept that title. He couldn’t fall apart in front of them. “You’re going to hurt your knees if you sit like that for much longer.”

Rossi cursed in Italian. “Kiddo, I don’t care. I want to know what’s going on with you. You’ve been pretending to be strong for these past few months, and we know how much you hate anyone interfering with your personal life, but if you’re hurting, you need to let me help.”

“It’s nothing,” he repeated.

JJ picked up the file, opened it without a word. “Oh, Hotch. Why didn’t you let one of the others deal with it?”

There was such sadness in her eyes, he couldn’t look at them. “Because I can handle it.”

The sound of Reid’s cane coming closer gave him something else to focus on. “Hey Hotch,” he greeted gently. “Do you want to know something? After Hankel, I found it almost impossible to deal with consults involving someone who was using drugs, either on themselves or the victims. I had to try and pass the files off to Morgan and Prentiss. I can do them now, but it still hurts. So it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” he said. “It’s not because it’s my fault she’s dead. If I hadn’t rejected the deal, all those people on the bus would still be alive, Haley would be here and Jack would have a real parent, who could be there and comfort him, instead of a failure of a father who can’t guarantee to keep him safe and who wakes up shouting in the middle of the night.” He didn’t know why he suddenly opened up, but Reid just had that effect on people sometimes.

Reid blanched. Rossi pulled away, shock all over his face. Garcia pushed her way into the room, heels louder than Reid’s cane and threw her arms around Hotch in a tight hug. He felt the sleeve of his shirt start to get wet, and it was only then that he realised Garcia was crying.

“It is not your fault that Haley died. It is Foyet’s. He killed her, and you had no control over his actions. You did the right thing by not taking the deal, and don’t you ever think otherwise. You are a real parent. You’re a parent to almost everyone on this team, and you’re a wonderful father to Jack. Stop beating yourself up. You’ll never be able to protect him from everything, but that doesn’t mean you’re not good. You are the best man I know, and I know some pretty great people. So dry those eyes, and let us help you,” she said, determined.

He stared at her for a few moments.

“Sir,” she added hesitantly.

“Do you honestly believe that?” he asked, more tears threatening to spill.

Garcia nodded.

Morgan crept closer. “I know what it’s like to grow up with a dad. And Jack will never have to go through that, because even if you’re not there in person, you’re there emotionally. He won’t remember missed soccer games or forgotten parent-teacher conferences. He’ll remember how you read to him, how you always listened.”

“My father turned up to everything I ever did. But it never felt like he cared. It felt like he was just trying to keep my mother happy. When you go to Jack’s things, he knows you’re there because you love him, and that is all any child wants,” Emily added.

“You’re more of a father than my own dad ever was,” Reid declared.

“Hotch, you were the one that taught me that this job doesn’t have to take everything away from us. That we can still form meaningful relationships with others. You never doubt my choices, you just make sure I’m able to back them up, and you’re the reason I don’t go home fretting about whether or not I made the right call,” JJ said, tucking the file away.

“Aaron, I never got to meet my son. But every time I see you smile, every time I see you handcuff another unsub, or speak to a victim, I am reminded that family is not just blood. You’ve been strong for far too long. Let yourself fall and trust us to catch you,” Rossi finally spoke.

“I just couldn’t believe she was gone. And then I saw the photos, and I realised it must have been like that for someone else when she died and it finally hit me and I just couldn’t, but I thought I was moving on and-“ he couldn’t speak, the words not able to push past the lump in his throat as the emotions finally overwhelmed him and the soft cries became mournful sobs that eventually calmed into sniffles.

Rossi and Garcia never stopped hugging him. Reid kept his hand on his shoulder. JJ smoothed his hair, singing the same lullabies that Henry heard every night before he slept. Morgan and Prentiss stood to the side, having locked the door and closed the blinds.

Once he had enough awareness to realise what he had done, he tensed and waited for the hit. It never came. What came instead was a series of encouraging smiles, the option to talk, or just sit in silence. The promise to never leave. To always be there when he needed them.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re our family Hotch. We’re not going to let you suffer,” Morgan said.

Everyone nodded.

It wasn’t easy, falling apart. Especially not in front of your colleagues. But Morgan was right, they were a family. So Hotch finally let himself fall, finally let himself feel all the grief he had been burying for so long, and for once in his life, he let someone else catch him. He let them in. He accepted their support, however long it took for him to actually do so was irrelevant. He let himself cry, and he let his family dry his tears.

They wouldn’t leave him. Not now. Not ever.

But soon, he would be saying goodbye to JJ, wondering how they were going to survive without her. He would be faking Emily’s death, then fleeing because he was a coward who couldn’t bear to see their grief-stricken faces. He would be forced to confront his own actions, reveal the deadly secret that had been slowly killing him. He would damage the trust that had taken so long to build, damage the friendship he had with Morgan, potentially ruin the friendship between Reid and JJ.

He would be crying himself to sleep. Having nightmares that stopped him from doing that for more than a few moments.

And then Garcia would find him rocking himself in his office, whispering I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, to himself. She would drop her request for advanced technology, and once again wrap her arms around him. She would tell him that he did the right thing, that in time, everyone would forgive him, would trust him again. He would look at her, and her heart would break, because her boss should never look that pale and broken, and ask if she was sure.

She wouldn’t be able to answer for a moment. And then she would say she forgives him. And that it was okay.

The next day, Morgan would ask him to check a file. Reid would tell him about the stars. Garcia would bring him a slice of pie. Rossi wouldn’t make any comments that undermined his authority or showed a lack of trust. Prentiss would call him Hotch again, instead of sir. He would invite them for dinner, and they would all accept.

He would confess that keeping the secret had broken him, and they would all forgive him. He would finally let himself cry, let them put him back together. And they would decide to have a very dodgy sleepover- Garcia’s suggestion- because Jack wanted to see Henry, and who could ever say no to his requests.

And that night, Spencer Reid would phone his sponsor, not because he was scared of using, but because he didn’t want to.

Jennifer Jareau would snuggle up to William LaMontagne Jr instead of pulling away from him like she had the past few months.

Derek Morgan would not blame himself for everything that had gone wrong that day.

David Rossi would not curse the God he believed in, he would thank Him for bringing Emily back safely, and for granting Aaron peace.

Emily Prentiss would sleep without a knot in her stomach, for she would finally be sure her family would be okay.

And Aaron Hotchner would watch his family with a smile, before he finally fell asleep as well, not a single tear needed to exhaust himself. He would be a little more whole, once again sure the people around him did truly love him. And he would remember his wife, just before he fell asleep, and it wouldn’t hurt, because he was happy.

[scuttling]

Bully

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 2,249 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Supportive Aaron Summary: A case in Chicago means the team is introduced to someone from Sophie's past. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! “Alright, we’ve got a case in Chicago,” JJ says as they gather in the briefing room on a Wednesday morning. “The detective there is… how do I put this? He’s a real asshole, but they need our help, so just prepare yourselves for one of those.” She passes out the case file, and Cortes tenses beside Hotch, a shift in demeanor he can almost feel, though they are sitting a foot apart.

“Please tell me, just to ease my mind, JJ—it’s not the 54th precinct, right?” She looks up with a grimace, and JJ nods.

“Sounds like you know the guy. Detective Jeffrey?”

“Fuck. Yes, I know him.” She puts an elbow on the table, leans her forehead into her hand, sighs. “He’s like the anti-Hotch: cruel, impulsive, hotheaded, blames his failures on his coworkers. This guy is going to give us grief the whole way, especially if I’m there.”

“Is there a reason for him to be aggressive toward you? Did you pass him up for promotions, accolades?” he asks, and she looks up at him, frowns.

“He’s a misogynist, and a racist, for starters. Wanted a spot on the tactical response team and didn’t get it because he can’t take orders, which had nothing to do with me, but you know how narcissists project.”

“Nothing is actually ever their fault,” Reid says, filling in the blanks.

“Exactly. I was the most convenient target for his anger. So, of course I want to do my part, I’m just letting you know there’s a lot of hostility there so you aren’t blindsided.” The team seems collectively a little more tense—no one messes with one of their own—and Hotch nods thoughtfully.

“You’re with me while we’re there, then. If he wants to give you a hard time, we won’t make it easy.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She exhales, turns back to the case file, and JJ continues with the briefing.

He takes her aside once they’re on the jet.

“Can we talk for a moment?” he asks, standing by the open seat next to hers, and she gestures to it.

“Sure. Is it about what I said earlier, about Jeffrey?”

“Yes and no. I trust your judgement; if this guy is going to be a pain in our ass, I want to have a game plan going in so things move as smoothly as possible.” She closes the folder in her lap, nods, gives him her full attention. “First and foremost, you can not let him get to you.” She leans back against the window, sighs.

“I know. It’s just hard, like going back to high school and facing your old bully.”

“I get it. From what you’ve told me, this guy is going to have all of us on edge, but you know the precinct, the area, some of the officers; the team is going to look to you a lot while we’re here. You need to be firm, authoritative, but not antagonistic. Most importantly, you need to be confident. Don’t second guess yourself because of this jerk we’re dealing with.”

“I know that giving in and getting mad is what he wants, so I’m going to try my damndest not to give it to him.” She laughs a little, like it’s easier said than done, and he maintains eye contact, wills her to see how much he really does trust her with this. “I really appreciate this, Hotch.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“I know. But you show your faith when it really matters, and not everyone in your position does that. You should know how much it means to us.” Her words warm his heart, and not just because it’s her who’s saying them. He knows he comes off like a drill sergeant sometimes, but it’s all for good reason. He just wants to take care of his team, keep them safe.

“Thank you. The job is tough; I try to support you guys anyway I can.”

“It shows. Thanks for having my back,” she says softly, tilting her head, and then she sighs and smiles, sits up in her seat. He’s known her long enough to be able to tell when things are getting a little too heavy for her, knows she’s looking for lightness, now. “If we have time for drinks after this case, we have to go to Tito’s, just putting it out there.” Morgan hears her, leans over from his seat across the aisle.

“Tito’s! I haven’t been there in years.”

“Neither have I. They have the best portobello tacos in Chicago. Drowning in chimichurri,” she says to Hotch, and he smiles a little at her excitement. “Give me a Corona and lime and a plate of tacos and I’ll forget all about Douglas fucking Jeffrey.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” he says, and he spends the rest of the trip sitting between the two of them as they reminisce about their favorite things about Chicago.

He actually really enjoys it.

When they arrive at the precinct, she is decidedly less jovial, and Hotch immediately understands why, when he introduces himself to Detective Jeffrey.

“Cortes, good to see you again,” he greets, while his expression tells a different story entirely. “Are you his... assistant?” He pretends to be confused, and JJ bristles beside them at the implication, but Sophie remains impassive, doesn’t even look tense. It’s possible his pep talk had more impact than he thought.

“She is no one’s assistant, she’s a supervisory special agent with the FBI just like me, and she will be taking point on this case. I expect you to defer to her expertise,” Hotch informs him with no room for misunderstanding in his tone. Again, if she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it, just continues reading over the case file provided.

“No offense, but this is a serial killer we’re talking about. It’s worlds away from chatting up a meth addict CI in a McDonald's parking lot.” She does close the file at that, and it appears to him that she can handle personal insults just fine, but that jabs at her work are where she gets defensive.

“You wouldn’t have closed half of your cases if it weren’t for my CIs, and you know it. But I’m not in Intelligence anymore, I’m a profiler, and I’m good at what I do.” She crosses her arms, exhales, and turns away from him, a clear dismissal. “Hotch, Prentiss, and I will go to the crime scene. Reid and Gideon will meet with the second victim’s wife, Morgan and JJ will work victimology, and we’ll reconvene here.”

“You got it, boss,” Morgan says, taking a seat, and in times like these he is really proud of his team. He knows as well as Sophie what it means to show Jeffrey that an alpha male like Morgan will take her orders, and Morgan took them and ran. He hides a smile.

They are unfortunately stuck with the detective when they are rerouted to a new crime scene as another body is found, but Hotch isn't worried. It will be a great place for her to show him what she can do.

“What do we know about the victim so far?” Sophie asks Jeffrey, her posture open.

“Sheila Lapinski, 27, hooker.” Prentiss rolls her eyes behind his back. “No one has reported her missing, no next of kin anywhere we can find. Coroner puts her time of death between 3 and 5 AM.”

“Does she have a record?”

“Osele’s pulling it now,” he says with a sigh, and she stops scanning the scene, looks to him with a cocked brow.

“Then how do you know she’s a prostitute?” He chuckles, puts out his hands like the answer is obvious.

“You know where we are. They’re like fleas around here, infesting, multiplying.” Cortes crouches down and lifts the sheet covering the victim, who is wearing a cardigan, pencil skirt, and flat shoes.

“She dressed like a prostitute to either of you?” she asks, looking up at Hotch and Prentiss, and he shakes his head, though he’s not sure why he’s surprised; the detective may actually be worse than she described him. Prentiss bends down, looks like she’s trying not to smile.

“No. She looks more like a school teacher, actually.”

“I’m telling you, they call this—pardon my French—” Sophie stands, crossing her arms, and cuts Jeffrey off.

“Pussy Alley. I know what guys like you call it. But you have no evidence this woman is a sex worker, and if she’s not, it’s extremely important that we find out how and why she was dumped here.” An older, bearded detective walks up to them, notebook open, and he smiles at her.

“Hey, Cortes. Nice to see you again, though not under the circumstances.”

“You too, Osele; these are Agents Hotchner and Prentiss. I worked with Osele in Intelligence way back when.” They all shake hands, and she nods to his notebook. “You have her record?"

“Yep, she’s squeaky clean. Not so much as a parking ticket.” Sophie shares a look with the both of them, and Jeffrey splutters.

“That’s—that’s not possible.”

“I think you’ll find that plenty is possible when you open your eyes, Detective,” Hotch can’t resist replying. Cortes crouches down again.

“There are no signs of a struggle. The bottoms of her shoes aren’t worn. Her clothes are clean, not cheap; hair done recently, not cheap.” Jeffrey puts his hands on his hips, all but rolls his eyes.

“Ah, there’s some hard hitting detective work.”

“You’re not even attempting to prove your theory that she’s a prostitute, so we’re disproving it for you,” Prentiss explains, pulling out her phone. “Easily. Garcia,” she begins, and she steps away from them to talk to the tech.

“What else do you see?” Hotch asks softly, meeting her on her level. “Anything that indicates occupation?” Her eyes are focused as she scans the victim, lifts her hand to examine her nails, her lip to examine her teeth.

“She has ink smudges on her hands, so she could be a teacher, but she could also be a receptionist, writer, accountant, secretary, bank teller… any type of administrative professional. She’s got a fresh manicure, teeth are in good health, so I’d bet she’s got insurance or has had it recently. No wedding ring, she’s too old to be on her parents’, so all signs point to a steady job.”

“Okay, there is no god damn way you can tell if she’s got health insurance just by looking at her.” She stands, and Hotch follows, covering the body with the sheet.

“No, you’re right, I can’t. It’s an educated guess based on analysis and not snap judgement. Do you have any insight into this case, aside from the fact that you think she’s a sex worker because of where she was found?”

“There’s not much to go on. Sometimes these cases go unsolved.” It’s then that Prentiss returns to them, and this time she is smiling.

“I had Garcia run our victim’s info, and it doesn’t look like she’s currently employed—no recent bank deposits, appears to be living off of her savings.”

“So not a teacher after all,” Jeffrey states, looking smug, and Hotch waits patiently, because he knows there’s more.

“Not right now, but she just moved to the area from a suburb called Evanston, and she was a third grade teacher there for two years. Private school, really nice place. Great insurance.” Sophie looks at her like something she said clicked, and she pulls out her phone.

“The ink on the heel of her hand could be from a newspaper; maybe she’s job hunting.”

“Wasn’t our first guy unemployed?” Prentiss recalls. “We should have Gideon and Reid ask his wife if he’s been job hunting. Could be a connection.”

“I’ll call Reid.” The fact that the victims were job hunting is what breaks the case. They work late into the evening, but they’re actually able to find the unsub—a man posing as a prospective employer only to people who are new to the area—relatively quickly once they put it all together.

The officers who remember Sophie from her time in Chicago are all clearly impressed with her and the team, and it makes him very, very proud.

Jeffrey clearly hates how quickly they solved the case, and he enjoys that, too.

That night, they do make it to Tito’s for drinks and Mexican food, and the team goes around the table and talks about their ‘Jeffreys’ in honor of Sophie showing up hers.

Morgan buys them all a round of Coronas in her honor as well, and later, Sophie offers to buy another; Hotch heads up the bar to help her carry.

“Since we’re here another night, is there anyone you’re going to try to see? Catch up with?” he asks while they wait for a few of the drinks. She smiles softly, tucks a hand under her chin thoughtfully.

“No, there’s nothing for me here anymore. Coming back, facing Jeffrey, was my last battle to fight, and you made that possible, so thank you.”

“It was my pleasure to see him knocked down a peg… and to watch you shine.” She reaches out, covers his hand with her own, which he did not expect, and nods back to the table with the rest of their coworkers, their friends.

“Come on. We’re going to have to rein them in soon. I could use a little back up.”

“Any time."

[whump-town]

I know on tiktok, everyone thinks the scene where Hotch asks what's his worst quality is funny but I think it's sad. Hotch just stand there hearing all the bad things his team called him and pretend everything is ok. He did it to prove that he wasn't a narcissist but that just hurt more. And then Morgan saying to Hotch he doesn't trust anyone with anything and the fact Hotch doesn't say anything back, he never does. It's like Hotch is letting himself be an emotional punching bag for them.

Our humor is kind of fucked so I won’t poke too much at that-- I mean my sister laughs like a nut every time we watch 4x01 and Hotch gets blown up so...

But it’s easy to see his pain and not know what to do with it. Even during this scene, any of Hotch’s hurt gets immediately pushed aside by him. There just isn’t any time to have them soothe over the hurt, not that he would let them. Because, as he said, he doesn’t put himself above the team and stopping to be reassured they didn’t really mean it isn’t the priority-- Reid is. 

He’s Hotch though and we’re all reliant on the fact that he’s just okay. He can take the punches and he does-- there’s a bit of a sting when we realize later that he does still think about their responses but there also must be the realization that they aren’t wrong, they’re also just not right

Hotch is a bully. He means well, truly. He made JJ do that call over the radio to the Prince of Darkness despite her saying she didn’t want to and that she didn’t even know what to do. But he made her do it anyway. Because someone has to push them out of their comfort zones so that they can be better

Hotch doesn’t trust women... but he doesn’t trust men. He doesn’t trust people. It’s not about sex or gender or expressions of power, he just doesn’t trust new people. Morgan doesn’t either. I mean, think about every new member the BAU ever had (mark out Dave though because he doesn’t count for a variety of reasons) and you'll find what? distrust. Not in their abilities but in his general ability to speak with them, to interact. 

Hotch is a drill sergeant but he has to be. Who else is going to command them about? Who else wants to be the level-headed one in every situation? Soothing fraying nerves and making them focus on the case. 

Now, I don’t agree with Hotch’s own statement of “I have no sense of humor” (that sounds like just insecurity) because he’s a funny man

[hotchgan]

Why do you hate yourself?

Summery: The reason why Aaron is in therapy.

A/N: I have never experienced a PTSD episode. I just based this off from Lexie Grey’s episode from Grey’s Anatomy.

Taglist: @ellyhotchner @unionjackpillow @eleanorbloom

Warnings: PTSD episode, fire, murder, death

“Why do you hate yourself?”

Aaron stares at her. He hates himself because he’s weak. He couldn’t save his wife and he put his son in danger. Aaron hates himself because his team hates him. He is a narcissist, drill sergeant and a bully. Aaron hates himself because he can’t save anyone. Who wouldn’t hate him?

“Ok, do you hate yourself because of the fire?”

“What fire”, Aaron asks, confused. Suddenly it hits him. The fire.

“Hotch! We have to go!” Morgan says.

“No, he can still make it”, Aaron says as he continues to do compressions. He’s thirteen years old, he’s too young to die. Aaron can feel his ribs breaking but he doesn’t care.

“Hotch, come on!”, Morgan says as he pulls Hotch away from the kid’s dead body. Aaron tries to get him off.

“Aaron, we need to go. Now!” Morgan says. Aaron looks at him and let’s go of the kid’s body. Morgan rarely calls Hotch by his first name. He only said it when he needs to say it.

Aaron and Morgan quickly escape the abandoned building. Aaron looks back and sees fire burning down the walls slowly.

“I couldn’t save him”, Aaron says.

“You blame yourself for his death. Especially after you told his parents”

“H-h-he’s dead?” The mother asks Aaron.

“I’m so sorry”, Aaron says. Aaron tries to put his hand in her shoulder for comfort but she quickly pulls away.

“You monster”, she says.

“What?” Aaron asks.

“H-he’s dead because of you. You should’ve saved him. You should’ve tried harder. Why didn’t you tried harder!’ The boy’s mother asks who is now screaming.

“I-“, Aaron tries to say something but was pulled back by Rossi. Why didn’t he tried harder? Why didn’t he saved him? He watches as the mother drops to ground and cries.

“You blame yourself for so many deaths. This one finally broke you”

“I think he wants his son to die”, Aaron says.

“What?” Rossi asks, concerned.

“H-he doesn’t even know what his son was wearing the day he was missing. He also doesn’t know what toy he brought to the park. I mean does he want his son to die?” Aaron asks Rossi. Before Rossi can say anything, Hotch goes up to the father.

“Do you want your son to die? You know you could’ve just left your son in his room and burn your house down. That way you can insurance money from your son and the house”, Aaron says to the man. He can feel his chest tightening.

“Aaron!” Rossi says pulling him away from the father.

“Excuse me?” The father asks.

“Burning him would be easier because it gets rid of the body too-“ Aaron says before he bumps over a box of case files. He pushes the files out of the way. Aaron pulls his tie lose, it's getting hard for him to breathe. He looks through his pockets for a lighter. He always keeps a lighter just in case he wants to go for a smoke. Aaron places the lighter in front of the father.

“Here, now you can burn down this whole damn place. Then you can find your son and-“ Aaron says as he gets pulled away. Rossi quickly brings him and Aaron into another room while JJ apologizes to the father.

“What the hell was that?!” Rossi asks. Aaron tries to say something but he can't breathe. He suddenly faints and drops to the ground.

“You had a PTSD episode. It’s also why you’re here”

Aaron doesn’t say anything. Instead he looks at his hands.

“Do you know what I think? You’ve been bottling up so many emotions. And that fire was the last straw. You broke and you let all of you emotions out. Your wife died and one of your mentors died. Not to mention all of the other cases you probably have blamed yourself on”

Aaron continues looking at his hands. He can feel tears forming in eyes.

“I think that’s enough for today”

Before she can say anything else, Aaron quickly got up and left.

[hotchley]

The Revelations scene actually makes me so emotional though because look at their responses

Hotch says that he has no sense of humour. But he’s talking about his worst quality. A sense of humour is not a bad thing per se, and he knows the team knows it exists. It’s also definitely not his worst quality and you can tell he’s just trying to prove his point about narcissism.

Morgan says “You can be a drill sergeant sometimes.” As in, he isn’t always one and it’s only an occasional thing. But drill sergeant is probably also part of the job description when it comes to being a Unit Chief. Morgan probably teased him about it when he first took on the role. Again, not that bad.

But JJ calling him a bully (and I stand by here being angry and hurting and lashing out because just think of the: You could’ve told me. It’s okay if you lose it every once in a while. You’re smiling. Their scene in JJ) and Emily saying he doesn’t trust women as much as men (which is also untrue) probably hurt more than he was expecting.

Like imagine, he goes home to Haley, who still waits up for him. And he tells her that his team think he’s a horrible person. And she can’t even say anything to deny it because he’s not imagining their words, he’s repeating them perfectly.

[hotchgan]

You should hate yourself

Summery: Aaron gets kidnapped by his therapist.

Taglist: @ellyhotchner @unionjackpillow @eleanorbloom

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, mentions of anxiety attack and addiction, implied/reference child abuse, hospitals, mentions of scuicide

Aaron had been feeling so much better. He has been talking about his trauma to his therapist. At first he was hesitant to tell all of his deepest secrets but he tried. It was hard for him to be so vulnerable around someone but it was slowly lifting so much weight off his shoulder. She has been helping him so much ...

And now she is pointing a gun towards him.

"Come on... spill all of your dirty secrets"

Aaron stares at her in disbelief. How could he have not seen this coming? She knows more things about him than anyone alive. This was all his fault.

"Oh Aaron ... I didn't think I would need to punish you this early. But I guess I should since you're not listening to me"

Aaron can see two men with ski masks. One of grabs his neck from behind the chair he is sitting on. The other guy picks up a bat. Aaron winces as he feels the bat hit him in the stomach. Tears threatening to spill and his stomach getting repeatedly hit. Each hit hurled more and he used more force.

"Alright that's enough. I think he got the message"

The two men let go off him. Aaron slumps down on his chair. He finally breathes normally but he can feel his tears rolling down his cheek. Aaron could see the camera recording him. He just wonders who is watching him.

Morgan can't bare to see his boss like this. They both hadn't always seen eye to eye but they both were there for each other. Hotch had helped him with Buford and any other case that got to him. And now the man he respected the most is getting beat up.

Emily looks down at the ground but she can still hear his chocked sobs from the screen. Her eyes shimmer with tears threatening to spill. She looks at JJ. She wants JJ to hug her and say everything is going to be ok.

JJ looks at Emily. They both share a stolen glance. They both are thinking the same thing. Hotch was the first to now about their relationship. He supported them immediately. He also made sure to give JJ all the time she needs with her divorce with Will. Hotch doesn't deserves this.

Reid looks at the ground. He was like a father to him. The only father who hasn't left him. He knew him personally. Hotch knew how to help him through his anxiety attacks. Hotch had even helped him through his addiction. He even considered him as a son. Spencer can feel tears spilling from his eyes.

Rossi can feel his eye's fill with fury. Hotch is like a son to him and seeing someone hurt him like that angers him. They need to catch whoever is doing this to him and fast.

"Garcia", Rossi says still processing what he had just saw.

"Y-yes sir?" Penelope says holding back her tears. 

"Have you tried tracking the video's location?" Rossi asks. He needs some good new right now. 

"I- no", Garcia says sadly. 

"Damn it Garcia! Can't you even do your job? Hotch could die any minute now!" Rossi yells at Garcia. At this point she can't control her tears.

"Rossi! She's doing everything she can", Morgan says to Rossi. 

He sighs and rubs his eyes. 

"You're right, I'm sorry Penelope. Is there anything we now about this lady?" Rossi asks. 

"W-well she obviously knows Hotch so she could work with the FBI", Garcia says as she wipes the tears from her face. 

"Ok, starts there. Look for anyone in the FBI who has a connection to Hotch", Rossi says. He looks back at the screen. His eyes widens in fear when he realizes what they’re about to do.

Aaron watches as the two men tries to unravel a bunch of wires. He doesn’t know what they’re doing. Are they going to strangle him? No, that would be a quick death and he knows that isn’t what she’s trying to do. The two men start sticking wires on Aaron’s chest. Suddenly it clicks to him. They’re going to shock him.

“It looks like you realize what I’m going to do”

“I- god why are you doing this?” Aaron asks.

“Well where’s the fun in this if I tell you. You see I’m not just going to physically torture you, I’m going to mentally torture. By exposing you and making you vulnerable to your team. I’m going to destroy you”

“I-“, before Aaron can say anything he feels a shock going through his heart. His heart starts racing and he can feel himself shaking. When it finally stops, he looks to see her holding a remote.

"Oh that's just level one, wait till you see level 5", she sneers.

Aaron looks at her with fear. He just hopes his team can make it in time.

The team look at the screen in horror. If she shocks him too long then he could die. They all stand there in silence before Rossi clears his throat.

"Have you found anything yet?" Rossi asks impatiently.

"No sir, a lot of these things are so secure I can't even hack into it", Garcia says as she looks at her computer.

"There's got to be something we have to do", Morgan says.

"Well who do you think would do something like this to Hotch?" Emily asks.

"That would be almost every unsub Hotch has caught", Reid says.

"Ok well we know she has some sort of connection to Hotch but maybe ...", JJ says before her eyes lighten up.

"Hey Rossi, remember that guy who's brother you put in jail?" JJ asks.

“The one where Reid said those stuff about evil twin and eviler twin?” Rossi asks recalling that memory.

“You think that she is related to an unsub Hotch caught?” Morgan asks.

“But Hotch has arrested so many people so it’s going to be hard narrowing it down,” Reid says.

“Ok Garcia, start by looking at any unsubs who have sisters with blonde hair and see where they’re at now”, Rossi says to Garcia.

“There is a lot of unsubs with sisters but I’ll try narrowing it down”, Garcia says as she begins typing on her laptop.

“What is she doing?” Reid asks making everyone look at the screen. They see her showing pictures but they can’t see what’s on there.

“Look at that, isn’t that your sweet, perfect family”

Aaron looks at the picture in shame. He can see his mother holding Sean when he was a baby and his father placing a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. It was all fake. They weren’t the perfect family and she knows that.

“Come on .. tell your team what was actually going on in your family”

The team looks at each other confused. Aaron never really talked about his family but soon they’re going to know why.

“He- my father abused me”, Aaron says quietly. She smiles wickedly.

“And what did he call you”

“He said I was weak and pathetic”, Aaron says recalling the time where his father would say that.

“Well he was right, wasn’t he?”

After Aaron didn’t say anything, she pushed a button sending shock waves throughout his body. Aaron yells in pain.

“Ok- yes yes he was right”, Aaron says with tears streaming down his face.

“That’s right and what did your team call you?”

Rossi looks at his team confused. What did they call him? He can see the guilty looks at all of there faces. Even Garcia looks at the ground in shame.

“What is she talking about?” Rossi asks. The rest of the team look at each other wondering who should say first.

“Well when Reid was kidnapped he had to call Hotch a narcissist to get his attention”, Morgan starts saying.

“And?” Rossi asks. He could tell there’s more.

“Well then he asked what was his worst quality and we all said something”, Morgan says in shame.

“Oh god, what did you say?” Rossi asks.

“I- well JJ called him a bully, I said he was a drill sergeant and Emily said he doesn’t trust women as much as men”, Morgan says finally.

“No no no no”, Rossi chants.

“I- well it was a long time ago, it’s not like he remembers or anything”, Emily says in their defense.

“These kind of things gets to Hotch and now she is going to use them against him”, Rossi says as he looks back at the screen.

“Th-they didn’t mean it”, Aaron says trying to defend his team. He suddenly feels his chest getting shocked again.

“Yes they did! And they are right. You are a narcissist, a bully, a drill sergeant and that’s why everyone hates you. You should hate yourself”

Maybe he should. Maybe Aaron Hotchner should hate himself. He couldn’t save his mom from abuse. He got Haley killed and put Jack’s life in danger. One of his team members got addicted and kidnapped. Another one of his team members got framed and had to face his abuser. Then another one had to fake their death. And another one had to watch their husband get shot and then had to go through a divorce. They all went through so much and it’s all because of him. Aaron Hotchner should hate himself and he does.

“I- I think I found something!” Garcia says making all eyes turn on her.

“What did you find?” Rossi asks.

“Remember Megan Kane?” Garcia asks making everyone nod.

“She has a sister, Molly Kane and she works for the FBI as a therapist”, Garcia says.

“Oh my god, Hotch was going through therapy”, Emily says in realization.

“That’s why she knew so many things about him”, JJ adds.

“Garcia, Can you search for any private properties owned by her?” Morgan asks.

“Yeah I’m doing that right now ... She has one private property! It’s an old barn and I’m sending you the address right now!” Garcia says as she typed furiously on her laptop.

The team quickly check their phones and begin putting on their vests. They had no time to waste. Hotch would die any second now. They all quickly broke into two team and went in their SUV’s. They all drive quickly to the address Garcia send them. If Hotch dies, they won’t know what to do.

“P-please I’m sorry, whatever I did .. I’m sorry”, Aaron says in tears.

“You think saying sorry would bring back my sister!”

“I- wh-who is your sister?” Aaron asks.

“You probably don’t even remember”

“I-“, suddenly it clicks to him. Aaron had always through she looks familiar but he couldn’t find where he had seen her. But he never saw her because she was Megan Kane’s sister.

“Y-you’re Megan’s sister?” Aaron asks.

“You finally figured it out”

“B-but I didnt kill her-“, Aaron says before he feels another shock in his body. This time it went longer than before and it hurled more. Aaron kept himself from yelling in pain. When it finally stops, he can feel his heart racing through his body.

“Yes you did! You killed her and now I’m going to kill you”

“She-she killed herself”, Aaron tries to explain.

“No she didn’t! Megan would never do that. That’s just a cover up to hide what really happened”

“Y-you’re in denial. I was there, I held her hand while she took those pills”, Aaron says with sympathy.

“Lair!”

Before Aaron can feel another shock, the door gets kicked down. His team is here. He’s safe now.

“FBI! Molly, step away from him and show me your hands”, Morgan says with a gun pointing at her. Aaron can see the other two men getting arrested by Reid and Emily.

“He killed my sister”, Molly says pulling out a knife to his throat.

“Molly, I know what’s it like to have your sister kill herself. It’s hard but this is not how you grief. I can help you, let me help you”, JJ says.

“No- I’m going to meet my sister and he’s coming with me”, Molly says but before she slits Aaron’s throat, she drops to the ground. Morgan shot her. Before Aaron could say anything, Rossi helps unties him and gets the wires off his chest.

“Son, son look at me”, Rossi says to Aaron. But he can’t. Aaron tries to stand up but he also drops to the ground. The last thing he heard is Morgan calling for the medics.

After a couple of hours, Aaron wakes up groaning in pain. He can see bright lights above him. He tries to sit up when he sees someone holding him up.

“Easy”, Rossi says helping him up.

“Dave?” Aaron asks.

“Hey son”, Rossi says.

“W-what happened?” Aaron asks wondering why he is in the hospital.

“After Morgan shot Molly, you fainted. The doctors said it was because of your heart being exhausted of being electrocuted”, Rossi says. Aaron hums in remembering what happened.

“J-Jack?” Aaron asks.

“Jack is with JJ. He should be coming to here soon”, Rossi says. Aaron hums again in response.

“Aaron look ... what she said, you’re not any of those things”, Rossi says. Aaron looks up at him.

“I-I’m afraid I’m going to turn up just like my father”, Aaron says.

“How about this, if I see you becoming anything like your father then I’ll personally drag you by the ear myself”, Rossi says promising him.

“P-promise?” Aaron asks.

“Promise”, Rossi says. He knows it’s not enough for the future but it’s enough for now.