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nicodemuslily · 7 days

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Hi everybody! /o/

Here is a new entry for the KidFic CM Challenge (yes, again) and this one is way less serious than the previous one (still a little bit, but everything ends well). :)

And exceptionnally, Hotch is interacting with Derek (not Penelope, not JJ, not Emily; Derek). And that's cool! :D

Cookie jar

Summary: The team is on the field without Hotch who's on a leave for some days, but they have to call him anyway. Suddenly, something happens and everybody worry about Jack.

Characters: BAU team and Jack Hotchner

Contents: TW a child is hurt (but everything is fine) and a tiny bit of angst because can't be anything else but anxious.

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The team had gathered in the room the police had assigned them – a cubbyhole, so to speak, cluttered with cardboard boxes and mops – and Derek dialed Hotch's cell phone number. The latter was on leave for a few days. His men were reluctant to call him when he did, so that he could enjoy his time away from Quantico to the full, but they had no choice. The first clues found in the field echoed those of an old case the director and Jason Gideon had worked on in the past. As the latter had vanished into thin air, they could only contact the former.

He picked up after several rings.

“Hotch?”

“One moment, he stopped him on the spot. Jack, I said no. I’m coming back.”

Morgan had put his phone on speaker so that everyone could follow the conversation, and so they all heard the TV gradually fading away, until it was almost muffled. They imagined he must have gone to his bedroom, or some other room where he could close the door behind him.

“What's the matter?” he asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Sorry to bother you,” apologized Emily, trying to appease him.

It wasn't certain that this impromptu call was the cause of his irritation, but if in doubt, it was best to try and smooth things over.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his intonation unchanged.

“We've potentially got a resurrected serial killer,” the ex-policeman attested.

“If I tell you: branding on the shoulder, chains on the ankles and whipping. Does it speak to you?” went on Dave, next to him.

A silence passed, during which he had to return to his memories.

“… Yes, but the culprit was sentenced to life.”

“Actually, he passed away last month, Derek clarified. But the last victim was killed on Monday.”

“His accomplice was released for good behavior last year, but his file disappeared, Prentiss explained from across the table. Can you remember his name?”

“I imagine you've already searched the digital archives for this information.”

“Affirmative, confirmed Penelope, who had come with them for the occasion. And there’s nothing. The guy just disappeared.”

The agency manager fell silent again. For a long time. The profilers stared at each other, tense.

“Hotch?” impatiently asked Morgan.

“Just a moment, I'm trying to remember, thundered his superior. His name was… De…”

A loud crash and a breaking glass could be heard in the background, and everyone froze as the giant shouted:

“Jack!”

A door opened and footsteps moved away from the handset. Clearly, the giant had left his phone behind. Tension gripped the whole group, their senses on the alert and their hearts pounding against their ribs.

“Did we kill tiny-Hotch?” moaned Garcia, on the verge of tears.

In the distance, the voice of the father calling his son made them fear the worst. Then the little boy started screaming at the top of his lungs, and everyone shuddered.

“Apparently not,” ironized Emily, who wasn't putting up much more of a fight than her colleagues.

“What do I do? wondered Derek, unsettled by the situation. I hang up?”

“Maybe he'll come back to us,” Spencer stated uncomfortably.

“I don't think so,” objected JJ, listening intently to the distant din.

“Why?”

“This is clearly the cry of a child in real pain.”

As the only mother in the unit, they trusted her judgment without a hesitation.

“Well, maybe I'll hang up now,” voiced Morgan, ready to press the button.

“Wait,” advised Rossi.

Jack was still crying loudly, perhaps a little quieter than a few moments earlier, but more importantly, they noticed that the sound was now moving. And he grew weaker and weaker until he disappeared completely.

“It sounded a lot like a door slamming,” Prentiss claimed, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You can hang up now,” Dave confirmed.

Derek obeyed sighing. He hadn't expected such a turn of events and now felt guilty about what had just happened. He knew the kid a little and he was always delighted to see him, his eyes shining with admiration every time. Like his counterparts, he didn't know what had occurred, but feared that something grave had happened, which would leave neither the child nor its progenitor unscathed.

“It could have been worse,” pointed out JJ.

Everyone looked at her, bewildered.

“Are you kidding? Retorted the brunette. I don't know what’s going on, but it's serious enough that Hotch left with him.”

“Yes, but Jack was crying.”

“So what?” inquired Morgan, confused.

“That means he was conscious,” Reid attested confidently.

The man who had taken over the leadership of the team when Aaron was absent took a long breath and ordered his peers to get back to work in spite of everything. They worked with this question in the back of their minds: how was Jack doing? Based on the thin clue left by their superior, they searched, groped, and modified their profile until they found a certain Denis Porter, who turned out to be their unsub. All this in record time. Since they were in the neighboring state, they returned to the Quantico offices while it was still daylight. Immediately, the worry that had been nagging them all came back to mind, and synchronously, they looked at their phones. None of them had received a message, which didn't reassure them at all.

“Penelope, do you have any way of knowing which hospital he was admitted to?” inquired JJ.

“Why do you ask? teased her colleague, who immediately took to her keyboard. I'll do it right away, my little ones.”

She typed the toddler's first and last names into her search engine and the result appeared almost instantly on her screen. All gathered around the analyst in her colorful lair, they read the information at the same time.

“Let's go,” commanded Emily, leading the way.

A few minutes later, they jumped in two Bureau SUVs and headed for downtown Washington DC, following the itinerary on their GPS. They parked quickly and hurried to the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter was somewhat surprised to see the herd arrive, armed and determined, but was reassured to see Derek's warm smile. She directed them to the pediatric emergency room on the other side of the building. Together, they made their way through the corridors until they reached another admissions department, where they were given the room number.

They shared a similar fear at this moment. They dreaded discovering the state of the youngster and prayed the titan wasn’t ready to drop again. He'd already suffered enough; he didn't deserve to be in even worse shape. Morgan didn't have the courage to knock on the door, which was ajar but not wide enough for them to see what was going on inside. Rossi did it for him.

“Knock, knock!”

“Come in,” Hotch reacted, in his usual tone.

They took a few steps and saw the boy lying on a bed, in a hospital gown, his head turbaned, but grinning from ear to ear. His father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, and a brief chuckle lifted the corner of his lips. Relieved, all the agents took Jack in their arms one after the other – except Spencer, who simply banged his fist against his. The girls added a kiss on his cheek and told him he was very brave. The effusive reunion over, Aaron declared:

“Denis Porter.”

“Yes, we found him,” Dave replied, squeezing his shoulder.

“Good.”

He didn't have the expression of someone satisfied with their work. He still looked distressed.

“What happened?” said JJ, asking aloud the question they'd all been asking themselves.

“Mister wanted a cookie. I pointed out to him that it wasn't the right time, but he waited until my back was turned to take one.”

“And?” bounced Prentiss.

“Well, he had his cookie. A lot of cookies. And the jar itself.”

The adults' gaze swiveled towards the injured boy, who gave them his best little rascal smile. He had no regrets about what he'd done. Some of the visitors felt sorry for him, once again showering him with hugs, while the others shook their heads in disappointment.

“Concussion?” continued JJ.

“It’s what we’re waiting to see. He has been under observation since 3:30 p.m.”

They reflexively glanced at their watches. He had been here for almost three hours.

“He looks okay, Derek remarked as he sat down on the bed next to him. Right, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow you'll be a hero at school,” affirmed Rossi, leaning against the bedposts.

“Yeah!” exulted Jack, proudly.

“Because he took a cookie jar to the forehead?” judged Emily, eyebrows furrowed.

“Scars,” Reid whispered, in a tone of obviousness.

“… Guys...” sighed the three women in unison, as they saw the same victorious expression on the faces of their male comrades.

Someone knocked on the door and a nurse entered, a little disconcerted to see so many people in the room.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

“Yes,” responded the interested party, rising to his feet.

“Can you come with me for a moment?”

Instinctively, he turned to his offspring and met his irises.

“We'll look after him, Hotch, Penelope reassured him, having grasped the source of his apprehension. Go.”

His teammates nodded in support, and Aaron very gently kissed his son on his bandaged forehead before leaving the room. Without them needing to ask, the hero of the day began to tell them all about his adventures, dwelling on unimportant details, forgetting the end of some of his sentences to go back and move on to something else, and surely exaggerating certain facts. All this with boundless energy and plenty of grand gestures that definitely appeased them about his state of health.

However, Morgan saw the nurse pass by again in the other direction out of the corner of his eye and was puzzled not to see Hotch reappear immediately afterwards. He waited a little longer, in vain. He apologized to his fellows and returned to the corridor. He discovered the giant a few yards away, leaning against the wall, a document in his hand. His pupils turned towards the ground, he seemed lost. Derek felt a vise tighten around his throat. What if…?

“Trouble?”

“What? gasped the manager, rudely jolted from his thoughts. No. This is the exit voucher. Everything is fine.”

The former policeman relaxed.

“So why the long face?”

The agency head lowered his nose, dodging his gaze, before sighing. Then he lifted his chin and turned his dark irises on him.

“… How did your mother do it?”

“To what?” he reacted, taken aback by this private question.

“To raise three children on her own into perfect adults.”

He couldn't help but burst out laughing, even though his interlocutor had spoken very seriously. At least he understood why he looked so downcast when all the indicators were green. As usual, the ex-prosecutor scourged himself for not having been able to protect a loved one, when there was no reason to do so.

“I'm not sure she'd say that,” he joked to lighten the mood.

“You arrest serial killers and, from what I've seen, your sisters don't seem to be into organized crime.”

Seen like that, indeed, his mother had done a very good job of keeping them on the straight and narrow. But that didn't mean the road wasn't full of bumps.

“Hotch, what happened was an accident, as it happens in every family in the world. I did the same stunt when I was a kid and, obviously, I'm fine.”

It was the truth. He himself had taken a tin of candy on the corner of his skull when he was a little older than the director's son. He had climbed onto a chair and then onto the kitchen counter before stretching out to grab the object of his desire, which his mother had placed as high up in the room as possible. In the end, he found himself in the emergency room with a huge lump on his forehead. The images were no longer so clear in his mind, but he still remembered his mother's concern as she brought him unconscious to the hospital. The same expression of anguish and guilt appeared on his neighbor's face.

“Hotch, Jack's moving, he's talking, and he's got clearance to get out of here. So, everything is okay.”

“Then why do I feel like the worst father in the world?” he retorted, not daring to look up.

He almost replied that it was because he had very low self-esteem, but restrained himself to give him a more consensual, but no less correct answer.

“You were scared for him, it’s normal.”

“But it's not just that, he despaired, peeling himself away from the wall to walk down the corridor. I constantly asking for help. To Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to my own mother… even JJ. I’m incapable of taking care of him all by myself.”

Morgan was touched despite himself by the disarray of his opposite, who was still struggling to adapt to his new life as a single father. Not being in his situation, he couldn't really give him advice, but could always try to make him see reason.

“Hotch, I think all parents ask other people for help. My mother would ask other women in the neighborhood for advice, and some of them would even babysit us. Your mother must have done the same thing, JJ does and I'm pretty sure Haley did too. You're no more incapable than anyone else.”

He and his sisters had spent entire afternoons and weekends at their aunts' so that their mother could work or simply have time for herself, and none of her children had had the audacity to reproach her in any way.

“… I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

Derek rolled his eyes and held back from kicking his butt. His propensity for only seeing the glass as half empty annoyed him to no end, but he tempered his urge to strangle him by reminding himself that the context wasn't helping either. So, he chose a gentler method.

“Does Jack smile?”

“What?” exclaimed Aaron, raising his nose.

“Do you see Jack smiling?”

“Yes.”

“Laugh?”

“Yes.”

“Does he tell you he loves you? Without you having to tell him beforehand or giving him something he wanted?”

“Yes.”

“So, everything is good.”

The giant analyzed the exchange they had just had, and his subordinate saw his features gradually relax. He fixed his gaze in his again and, with a pale smile, said:

“… Thank you.”

Morgan's lips stretched warmly, and he laid a hand on his shoulder in return. The two men then went to the little boy's room, where his father told him the good news.

___

This idea jumped in my head after my first watch of season 5 and this dialogue between Derek and Hotch, where Derek has decided to write his own report to leave more free time for him to take care of Jack (because he knows what it is to be a single parent).

That scene was so cute, that I needed to imagine another peaceful moments between the two of them. Because we all know that they appreciate each other more than they will confess it. Because boys are boys...

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nicodemuslily · 10 days

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Sergio and Hotch

Okay, this is a Hotchniss fanart without Emily. XD (Well, it's her hands on the last drawing)

In my main sequel of Code Name: Mom, Emily got Sergio back and her baby doesn't really appreciate the arrival of this huge guy in his owner's life. And he expresses it in many ways.

I'm not used at all to draw cats, but that was fun. :D

(I forgot Aaron's scars... T-T)

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #sketchdump #sunday sketch time #hotch #agent hotchner #sketches #fanfic illustration #cm #hotchniss #sergio #cat

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nicodemuslily · 14 days

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New entry for the CM writing challenge about kids! /o/

This one is really angsty (even if there is an happy ending), so don't read if you don't feel good.

It was interesting to work with those two. We didn't see them much during the show and that's the real crime.

Around an ice cream

Summary: Jessica went to the park with Jack when Hotch was working and the little boy has a curious reaction when he saw her with an ice cream too.

Characters: Jack Hotchner and Jessica Brooks (and a tiny bit of Hotch in the end)

Contents: TW this text is really, really angsty but there is an happy ending. Indeed, Jessica is explaining what grief and guilt are to her five years old nephew, so it's not funny at all

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

“You get an ice cream?”

Jessica was caught off guard by Jack's questioning. His small hand in hers, her nephew looked at her as if she'd done something exceptional. At five years old, he still had a lot to learn, but the query was still surprising.

“Yes. Adults like ice cream too, you know.”

Taking care of the little one in place of his father – who worked all week from very early in the morning to very late at night – she had taken advantage of the fine weather to take him out for some fresh air. The sight of the ice-cream truck had prompted her to offer one to the toddler, whose eyes lit up as he retrieved his cone. At the same time, she had decided to treat herself too, and had set her sights on a coffee ball.

“Dad, when we go to the park together, he never takes ice cream,” continued the boy, intrigued.

“Really?” she reacted with a twinge of sadness.

“Yes.”

A dizziness seized her furtively and she breathed in hard to keep from wavering. She knew that, despite his fake smile, her ex-brother-in-law wasn't well, but she didn't know it was this bad. However, she felt the child was far too young to know any better. So, she opted for a white lie:

“… Maybe he doesn’t like that. Some people prefer to eat salty foods rather than sweet ones.”

“But…”

His fine eyebrows furrowed as he pondered what to say while giving his chocolate ball a lick.

“Dad, when we do groceries together, he always asks me what I want and he never takes things that he wants.”

Which didn't surprise her in the least. For as long as she'd known him, she'd consistently seen Aaron bend to the desires of others and wish for nothing for himself. What he needed had always been the last of his priorities, but she had the feeling that it went further than usual. But, once again, she evaded the question so as not to worry the cherub any further.

“He just wants to please you, it’s normal.”

“Why?” bounced the youngster, licking his ice cream again.

“Because it’s what daddies do. They look after their children before themselves.”

“Why?”

“It’s to show them that they love them. And your dad loves you very much.”

She had absolutely no doubt about it but was aware that it wasn't really for this reason that Aaron was ignoring his desires.

“But I also want him to eat things he wants to eat, moaned her little neighbor. It’s always things that I want to eat he eats.”

Jack had inherited the generous, benevolent nature of both his parents, and his father's lack of impulses obviously unsettled him greatly. She understood his concern and wondered whether she shouldn't discuss it with the giant face to face, but quickly realized that he would agree to reassure her without changing his behavior. He was, yet, in no emotional state to give himself a break. At least, it was obvious that her words wouldn't reach him, even if she was right. But if…

“… Have you told him yet?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should tell him.”

He opened his eyes wide, completely forgetting his ice cream melting on his sleeve, and suggested, hesitantly:

“Can’t you tell him?”

“I think it'll work better if you tell him.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

She took his hand again and smiled to calm him, then they walked to a shady bench. Jack ate his ice cream almost reflexively. He wasn't at all enjoying this pleasure his aunt had wanted to give him. A reaction that gripped her heart. She would have liked some levity in the daily life of this little boy who had just undergone a terrible ordeal, but the mini wheels of his developing brain cluttered his mind with a multitude of questions, and it was her duty as an adult to answer them.

“What's the matter, sweetie?” she asked, not without some trepidation.

“Why does he do that?” he reacted right away, raising his hazel eyes to her.

“Why does he do what?”

“He always does what I want, he clarified, his small legs swinging in the air. When we play a game, I always choose.”

She could already see what he was getting at, and an answer immediately formed in her head, but she pushed it away with all her might. It was inconceivable to discuss such things with a toddler barely five years old.

“Games for adults are too complicated for you to understand, darling.”

“I also choose the evening movies.”

“You wouldn't be able to see the movies he can. They're too violent or too complex for a child your age.”

“On weekends, when we do an activity, it's always an activity for me. Never for him.”

“But you'd be bored in an adult activity, dear.”

Jessica crossed her fingers that this would be enough to make him think that everything was fine, that his father was simply adapting his behavior in the presence of his offspring.

“But... hiccupped the latter, his eyebrows furrowed; he could go with some friends of his and I'd go to your place, or Grandma Ada's, or Grandma Helen's.”

It was a failure. Clearly, Jack had also inherited his father's foresight and propensity for not wanting to disturb those closest to him. If he was allowed to do things and have fun with other children, then it was only right that his sire should be allowed to do the same. Which he didn’t. And she knew why. But explaining it to someone so young without frightening, shocking or saddening them was a daunting task. But she had already realized that she wouldn't be able to ignore it completely, as this inquiry had been burrowing into her nephew's mind for too long.

She then took a deep breath and, swallowing to try and get rid of the knot in her throat, she launched herself into her own words:

“… Okay. Have you ever felt that unpleasant sensation in your body when you know you've done bad things, but nobody knows it yet?”

“Yes,” he admitted, shaking his head.

“Well, it’s what we call guilt. And your daddy, he feels that a... – she couldn't bring herself to say: "all the time", even though it was the truth – very often.”

Jack stared at her with an attention that required her to concentrate harder than ever to conceal her emotions. She didn't have Aaron's mastery of this exercise and felt she would struggle to get to the end of her talk without letting out a tear. She was very attached to her ex-brother-in-law despite everything that had happened, and knowing he was in such pain crushed her insides.

“Why? Does he do bad things?”

“Actually, he doesn't, but he thinks he does.”

“I don't get it,” confessed her nephew, pouting.

Which was hardly surprising. Even for the people around him, it was a phenomenon difficult to understand. But the fact was, that's exactly what it was: he blamed himself for things no one blamed him for. There must surely be a technical term for this, except that she didn't know what it was. The people around him who were aware of this aspect of his personality downplayed his fears – perhaps with the idea of appeasing him and getting him to move on to another subject – or made fun of them without investigating the origin of this negative attitude. She wasn't an expert on the subject, but she'd been around the giant long enough to be able to claim to have a pretty good grasp of the character. And what her sister's son told her worried her greatly.

“It’s… it's a bit complicated to explain, sweetheart,” she declared, hoping this would encourage him to give up the game.

“Just explain it in words for small ones.”

“What?” she croaked, surprised.

“That's how Dad explains things to me. With words for little ones,” he said, dipping his tongue into the cone to retrieve the melted ice.

She could add stubbornness to the list of things he'd inherited from his parents, Haley and Aaron having been and being quite stubborn on certain points, never wanting to budge despite an informed counterargument. Jessica sighed and tried to organize her thoughts, putting the darkest ones at the bottom of the list, and hoping she wouldn't need to pull them out.

“…Your dad feels guilty because he's not there to take care of you.”

“He is. He was here last night, affirmed the youngster, before continuing. And the night before. And the weekend before. And many other days before too.”

She couldn't help smiling at the simplicity of the boy's reasoning. He didn't see his father every day, but he had no problem with that. If only Aaron could see it that way...

“Yes, but he thinks he should be with you all the time.”

“But he can't, he has to work. He's got to catch the bad guys,” Jack objected in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes, but in his head, he thinks he should take care of you first before dealing with the bad guys. And… - she hesitated, aware that she was venturing onto a slippery slope - he thinks I mind taking care of you.”

Anxiety took shape on the spot on the little boy's very expressive face, with chocolate all around his mouth and even on the tip of his nose.

“You mind?”

“Not at all, angel, she reassured him immediately. I love taking care of you. You’re my nephew, it’ll never bother me.”

It would have been a lie to say it wasn't a heavy load, but she had no children of her own and, with Haley gone, she was left with only her descendant to deal with this early and brutal grief. Jack was the glimmer of joy that encouraged her to get up every morning and showed her the way. He still had so much to learn and so much to discover that she didn't care how much energy she had to expend to accomplish her mission. She was happy to be there, by his side, at every new step he took in his life as a human being. Seeing him smile and hearing him laugh nourished her body with new strength every day.

“So why does Dad think it bothers you?”

“Because that's the way he thinks. He thinks he's annoying everyone; she attested as a vise tightened around her ribcage. He… he thinks he is a bad father.”

And she hadn't had to guess, since he'd told her so openly. Multiple times.

“No! It’s not true!” shouted Jack, outraged.

“I know. I never cease to tell him, but… he doesn’t listen much.”

He didn’t listen at all. This was one of the subjects on which his obstinacy made him deaf to any attempt to make him return to other feelings.

“Why?”

The young woman felt tears welling up in her eyes as she realized she had no other option but to get to the heart of the matter. From her point of view, it was too much for the toddler to grasp, but it was the key to understanding the strangeness of his father's behavior. It was up to her to find the wording least offensive to him.

“…You know, your dad blames himself a lot for what happened to your mom.”

“He didn't hurt her!” the boy defended him on the spot.

“I know, and deep down he knows it too, but he still thinks he's the reason why you don't have a mom anymore. He…”

She had to stop to take a deep breath and push back the pain that was crushing her ribs. The tragedy had burned a hole in her memory, and just thinking about it again, however briefly, was torture. She couldn't imagine what it was like for someone who had experienced it from the inside.

“The bad man who did this was someone his team was looking for, she managed to resume. They found him, put him in prison, but he escaped. And because he was so angry with your dad, he decided to hurt him. And… and that's how it all happened,” she abbreviated, both for him and for herself.

She struggled to breathe and could no longer bear the steady gaze of her miniature interlocutor, stressed by seeing her in such a state. But she has to go on. Getting to the bottom of her explanation, with all the emotional burden that entailed.

“So, your dad thinks that... without him... you'd... you'd still have your mom.”

The tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks at full speed. She didn't even have the reflex to chase them away, hurt by her own words.

“And he… - she sniffed, her voice trembling beyond her control – he often thinks that... that he would have preferred that... that your mom was still alive, and him, not.”

“NO! No! exclaimed her nephew, starting to cry in his turn. No, I don’t want! I want Dad! I’m sad for Mom, but I want Dad!”

Jessica immediately put her arms around him to reassure him. He nestled his little head against her chest and his fingers clung to her blouse.

“Of course, sweetheart, she said, blowing kisses into his hair. But… that's why he doesn't want anything for himself. He… he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.”

“It's so sad!” moaned the toddler, his face still buried between her breasts.

“Yes, it is. You know, your dad loved your mom very, very much. For him, it's very hard to go on without her.”

It had already been very difficult for him to accept the request for divorce – he had seemed thinner every time he rang her doorbell to see his son –, so losing her forever seemed like an interminable ordeal for him.

“Did Mom love Dad very, very much, too?” inquired Jack, looking up at her.

She noticed the chocolate stains lining her top but decided not to hold it against the culprit. The question he had just asked required her to weigh her words. Love stories in cartoons were always very simple, but reality was far more complex.

“… In the past, yes. Then, one day, she stopped loving him and, as you may not remember, they ceased living in the same house.”

Barely two years old at the time, he had moved from one home to another, before returning to the first, always with the familiar presence of his mother by his side. His father's absence hadn't troubled him any more than that. For Haley, this had been further proof of Aaron's lack of involvement. Jessica had put it down more to his age, which didn't allow him to grasp that having only one parent wasn't necessarily the norm. According to her, he was satisfied with the mere fact that someone was providing for him, without worrying about who was doing it. But maybe it was a combination of both.

“Why did she stop loving him?” the little boy wanted to know, chewing his cone.

“That’s just the way things are. For years, you love something and then, one day, you stop loving it. It’s life.”

“But I don't want to stop loving Dad, he whimpered, panicking at the prospect. And I don't want to stop loving you.”

She was touched by his words and felt the vise loosen its grip around her torso.

“Don't worry, you'll always love him, I'll always love you and we'll always love you, she assured him, kissing him on the forehead. It's just for people who don't know each other before that it happens. But know this: if your mom stopped loving your dad, it had nothing to do with you.”

This was the most important detail he had to remember about their separation. It wasn’t his fault. His arrival had only brought to light the dissensions that had already existed between them for several years. Sooner or later, with or without him, they would rise to the surface and drive them apart, despite all the love he still had for her.

“… Is it because of what happened to Mom that he never laughs?” Jack noted, rubbing his hands full of crumbs on his pants.

“Yes, she nodded. But, with time, it will come back. He’ll laugh again.”

“I can’t wait.”

“We all can’t wait, she revealed with a smile, before bouncing back. You know what?”

“What?”

“You should tell him right away, as soon as you see him, that you want him to eat things he wants to eat. It should speed things up.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

The boy's mouth stretched from ear to ear. The idea of making his dad happy again seemed to give him the courage to face him, and he pulled her arm most of the way home. And they were surprised to discover that the giant was there, back from Quantico. Not long, since he was still wearing almost everything in his suit, only his jacket having been hung on the back of a chair. He held the mail in his hand and immediately looked up when the door opened.

“DADDY!”

A shy smile appeared on the narrow face of the owner of the premises, who knelt to welcome his son as he should have done:

“Hey! Hi, champ!”

Jack jumped into his arms and Aaron gave him a kiss on the temple. In return, the toddler gave him a peck on the cheek and clung to his neck. The BAU director got to his feet without letting go, as if he weighed no more than a feather.

“You were at the park?”

“Yes. We even had ice cream,” his son told him with undeniable pride.

“That’s good. Do you like it?”

“Yes, he said before he screamed into his ear. Dad!”

“Yes?” he replied, suppressing a grimace.

“Next time we go to the park together, I want you to have an ice cream too.”

The injunction obviously baffled his progenitor, who watched him, eyebrows furrowed.

“… Why?”

“Because you deserve an ice cream too.”

Unsettled by the determined look on his face, he turned his attention to Jessica, who shrugged her shoulders in feigned ignorance. For the subterfuge to work, it was preferable that he didn't know that the plan had been drawn up by her.

“O… okay, I'll have an ice cream then,” he announced, still puzzled.

“Deal?” insisted his descendant, staring intently at him.

Aaron cast a brief, frightened glance in the direction of his ex-sister-in-law, who pretended to wait for his reply, then returned to his budding inquisitor.

“… Deal.”

“Yeah!” exulted Jack, brandishing both fists skyward.

His aunt smiled, relieved. A small step had been taken, now all the others remained to be done.

___

I had this idea when, doing groceries, I heard a young boy saying to his father that: "it doesn't matter". I didn't know what they were talking about but this young kid telling his (single?) father that it was okay, made me think about the relationship between Jack and his father.

Because Jack does care about his father a lot (the way his father does care about his team) and we all know that scene where he won't talk about his mother because it makes Aaron sad.

So, Jack worrying about the fact his father doesn't want anything for himself could be thing too. Then here it is. :)

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #agent hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #code name mom #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #wednesday thoughts

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nicodemuslily · 17 days

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You're my shelter

What I like the most about this pairing is that they both bring softness in their partner life.

Aaron needs to have faith again in a woman and he needs someone he doesn't need to hide what he's living on a daily basis (I have this hc that he was not telling anything to Haley because he loves her and he doesn't want to scare her, because he needed her joy to go on). He needs someone who don't judge him all the time, who don't push him doing things he doesn't want to. And he finds all that with Emily.

Emily also needs someone she can trust with all her heart, who won't search in her past, who won't push her to have the classic housewife life (wedding, kids, housekeeping tasks when her husband is working and all), who will give her all the freedom she needs. And she finds all this with Aaron.

So, yes, they are a shelter for each other.

(PS: he's naked on the original drawing but I didn't want to be in any trouble (even if they aren't doing anything but cuddle))

___

And for now on, they both are my shelter too. I currently dealing with many things IRL and thinking about those two idiots sooth my anxiety.

But, even if I don't watch CME, I know that Josh Stewart (Will Lamontagne) is leaving the show. I don't know why and I don't want to know but it makes me fear that Jemily could be canon (even if there is already a lesbian couple with Tara). ^^;

The thing is that six months ago I wouldn't have mind (I mean, for me, Emily is bisexual so everything is possible), but now that my brain runs wild for Hotchniss 24h/24, the officialisation of the pairing between JJ and Emily will just annihilate all my mojo.

I know it can sounds stupid or crazy, but that's the way my brain is working actually. As long as there are holes in the original plot, it can imagine anything. But if someone officially says that the girls are together, then the machine will stop immediately.

And right now, I don't need that. I need my brain to continue to feed me with silly ideas about those two idiots until it'll switch to another fandom. I want to finish those texts I have in mind (I've got too many unfinished WIP in many fandom just because something broke my will-to-go one day). T-T

So, please, don't do that. I know writers like to please the fandom but love stories between main characters are not necessary for the show to be interesting if the script is good.

Or wait until I've finished writing. Then, do what you want. XD

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #agent hotchner #fanfic illustration #cm #emily prentiss #hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #lovers

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nicodemuslily · 24 days

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Hotchniss 8 (AU)

Guess who? :D

Well, I'm currently working on another AU with those two idiots in love. This one start just after Minimal loss and creates a complete different timeline (I can't say much but it ends well).

I still have half of the chapters to write, but I'm in a good vibe.

Okay, I must explain the last drawing on the left, where Hotch sits on the floor. Emily has lost consciousness in a middle of a case and doctors told the team that she has to lie still. So, when she wants to get up to help Aaron for the case, he sits down next to her and starts to read the files for her. Then they spend the day, hand in hand, talking about the investigation. And that's so cute! X3

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #sketchdump #sunday sketch time #hotch #agent hotchner #sketches #fanfic illustration #cm #hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #agent prentiss #lovers

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nicodemuslily · 1 month

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Wedding day (AU)

And here is the picture of their wedding day! /o/

It's all inspired about this photo you can see there >> https://www.tumblr.com/e-prentiss/657793391741091840/paget-thomas-photos?source=share

So, basically, that scene takes place in my Hotchniss AU, years after Hotch has left the BAU and when Emily is leading the BAU with Luke and Matthew in the team (after the end of Mr. Scratch arc then). They are in together for 3 years when it's happening. :)

Aren't they cute? X3

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #fanfic illustration #cm #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss #wedding

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nicodemuslily · 1 month

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Second entry for the KidFic CM writing challenge! /o/

This time with JJ and Hotch, just after the New York episodes. Some things needed to be discussed.

If I love the weird and silly friendship between Penelope and Hotch, I really like the relation JJ and Hotch has together too. It's really a bound he has with none of the others profilers and I like to imagine that they had some times together outside of Quantico talking about anything but crimes and victims. Just two federal parents having some time off you know. :)

Well, enjoy! /o/

Arm wrestling on a couch

Summary: Post S04E01 (Mayhem). JJ has revealed her pregnancy to her coworkers and Hotch didn't seem to appreciate. She needs to have a discussion with him to clear the things up and to make some points. So she went to his apartment without warning him.

Characters: JJ and Hotch (her point of view)

Contents: TW mentions of what's happened in New York, of Hotch wound and there's a tiny bit of angst

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

JJ stood in front of the door but didn't dare knock yet. After the events in New York, which had shaken the whole team, they had all gave themselves a few days off to recover from their emotions. She had taken three and decided to use the second one to clarify a few points. A lot had happened there, and among them was the announcement of her pregnancy to her superior. She hadn't planned for it to play out this way at all – she'd envisaged doing it calmly and by the book, coming to sit in his office to tell him the whole truth. Instead, she'd delivered the information on the spur of the moment in a hotel lobby while everyone around them was bustling like an anthill, and she could tell he didn't appreciate it. Worse, she'd felt as if she'd hurt him.

She hadn't understood his reaction and had told herself that once the investigation was over, she'd come back to him to discuss it, but circumstances had somewhat thwarted her plans. Hotch hadn't returned by jet and had made the journey back his own way, out of her reach. She was now keeping her fingers crossed that he was at home and not in hospital for further tests. Which was a possibility, given that he had almost died in the explosion of his SUV. Her heart was pounding against her ribs. The giant's behavior was so unpredictable at times that she didn't really know where to start with this confrontation. Did he disapprove of this impromptu pregnancy? Should she have told him she was thinking of starting a family with Will? She didn’t know. But she was determined to get to the bottom of all this and set a few conditions for the coming months too. She'd probably have to fight hard, but she'd know how to hold her ground.

That's how she pressed the doorbell button for the first time. Nothing moved. She pressed a second and then a third time until a voice, muffled by the thickness of the ingress, exclaimed:

“I’m coming! Stop ringing, please.”

It was off to a bad start; she'd obviously just annoyed him by drawing his attention to her presence outside his home. He opened the door shortly afterwards and his scowl immediately turned to surprise.

“JJ?”

She herself was caught off guard by her opposite’s attire. She'd always seen him in a suit, but now she discovered him in jeans, T-shirt, and socks. And he obviously hadn't shaved since returning from the Big Apple.

“Hello, Aaron,” she said, pulling herself together.

She gave him a smile that she hoped would make up for the inappropriateness of this improvised visit.

“Hello, he answered, eyebrows furrowed. What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to check if everything was all right for you.”

“Well, it was fine until you rang the bell,” he rumbled, all warmth gone from his voice.

“Thank you…”

He sighed, dropping his shoulders, and indicated that she could enter.

“It's not you, it's the doorbell, he explained, more pleasantly. The slightest sound that's a little loud splits my head in two.”

She hadn't thought of this detail when she arrived here, but as the agency head's eardrum had been seriously damaged by the blast, his entire hearing apparatus was now exposed and no longer protected from shrill noises such as the entrance bell. She imagined it was the same for anything that exceeded the usual decibels of a conversation.

“Okay. I'll pass the word on to the next one,” she declared with a compromising pout.

“Tell them to stop calling me too, he bounced, closing the portal behind her. They have to do like Spencer. He understands, he sends me messages.”

“You can put it on vibrate too,” she pointed out, a little offended by his reproving tone.

Listening to him – with the exception of the agency's youngest agent – they were all acting like idiots, making phone calls to ask about his health. What he didn't realize was that it wasn't so easy to take into account all the ins and outs of his new condition. Not everyone had the brilliant intelligence of the multi-graduate. However, she excused his unpleasant attitude by attributing it to the pain that must have been coursing through his skull at this hour.

“No, because then I might not be able to hear it. And I know a few people who'd call SWAT if I didn't answer.”

He had a point but didn't exult. He encouraged her to take a seat on the sofa and she obeyed, smiling. He headed for the kitchen and asked:

“Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water… and water.”

“Water will be fine,” she assured, amused.

“Fresh or at temperature?”

“At temperature, please. My digestive system has been sensitive enough lately.”

He returned to her and handed her a large, generously filled glass. He himself had one in his hand.

“Here. If I'd known you were coming by, I'd have bought some crackers. Haley ate whole packs of them when she was expecting for Jack.”

“Thank you,” she said as she picked up her order.

Then he sat down on the couch, next to her, but without occupying all the remaining space. Even with his unusual size, he managed to adapt so as not to jostle the people around him or encroach on their living space. She appreciated the attention, but wondered what was behind it. Her profiling colleagues would surely have had an answer for her.

They each took a sip, aware that the rest of the discussion might not be so light. They had to clear the air, and the likelihood of them raising their voice was high.

“When were you going to tell me?” he threw, staring at her with his dark eyes.

“When I've had no choice,” she retorted on the spot.

She and Will had talked at length about their respective visions of family and had agreed that children would be an essential part of their lives. However, they didn't expect their wish to be granted so quickly. But as soon as she'd known, she'd also realized that this announcement would make waves in her superior's square organization. He was capable of adapting to many things – especially because the agents under his command left him no option but to accept their sometimes hasty decisions anyway – but she wasn't sure he knew how to modulate his routine following such a change.

When she'd been hired, she'd made no secret of the fact that she was just starting out in the business, and that her previous positions hadn't been as crucial as the one he was planning to give her. This didn't seem to bother him in the least, and he gradually shifted some of his duties to her, taking the time to answer her questions and train her as he had been trained before her. More than once, she'd had the sensation of asking silly questions whose answers were perfectly obvious, but he'd never raised the slightest remark. Then she began to stand on her own two feet, detaching herself more and more from him to carry out her missions alone. But just when she thought she'd lightened his load, she soon realized that he still had just as much work to do and was continuing to rack up the overtime hours. Because the unit was growing. Because the BAU’s good results were bearing fruit, and more and more people were asking for their help.

The agency's good reputation had its downside, and until this moment, it was its director who had paid the highest price. Guided by a heightened professional conscience, he had forgotten the most important thing, and the penalty had fallen. Haley had slammed the door, taking their son and the pedestal on which the giant had always relied to stand. The fall had been brutal and destructive, and the damage seemed irreparable. As usual, he hid his emotions behind this icy expression, but his subordinates weren't completely fooled. He was sinking deeper and deeper into his work, having no interest in going home anymore and ignoring the needs of his body. Every day, he closed in on himself a little more, despite the team's attempts to draw him into the light.

This was the first reason why she hadn't dared tell him about this development in her private life. She had been afraid. Afraid of burying him further under work. And afraid, too, of breaking the few pieces he had painstakingly put back together. But clearly, it was her silence that had hurt him the most.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he insisted, more pained than angry.

“Why is it so important for you to know?” she asked, adjusting her thoughts so as not to do any more damage than she already had.

“Because I'm responsible for your lives, JJ.”

And now came the second reason why she had preferred to remain silent.

“I'm no more in danger pregnant than not.”

“Except that in addition to your life, I have that of your unborn child to consider, he pointed out, annoyed. And over there, in New York, you were both in danger.”

“So did Spencer, Emily, Penelope, Dave, and Derek. We were all in danger.”

All of them could have been in the SUV that had been targeted by the terrorists. All of them could have taken those bullets that the New York officer paired with Prentiss had received. They could all have suffered the blast of that second bomb if Morgan hadn't led the ambulance out of the hospital. In fact, he was probably the most endangered member of the team, tied with the unit leader. The latter must have realized this because he lowered his nose for a moment. His hands twitched nervously, as they did every time he was consumed by anxiety.

“You should have told me before we left,” he continued, in a softer but less assured tone.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't want any special treatment.”

If there was one thing Hotch couldn't be faulted for, it was his attention to his men. He was constantly worried about their state of health, both mental and physical, and his anxiety went through the roof whenever one of them felt out of sorts. Most of the time, he curbed the ardor of his protective temperament – aware that a simple cut wasn't worth rousing all the rescue services in DC – or deferred the task of looking after the ailing element to one of them, but sometimes the overflow ran over and he showed an excess of empathy. And if, as she thought, he intended to restrict her to a purely administrative position for the next seven months, that didn't suit her at all.

“…What?” he croaked, taken aback.

“I’m not disabled, I’m pregnant. And just because I am doesn't mean I have to hide behind a desk while you all put yourselves in danger,” she hammered, glaring at him.

Eyes wide with surprise, he watched her wordlessly, confused. His pupils turned to the side for a moment, then came back to rest on her. Her heart was beating fiercely against her ribs. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then said:

“… JJ, whether you like it or not, being pregnant isn't trivial. Your whole body undergoes changes for nine months. It's stressful enough as it is, you can't add the stress of our job to it.”

“I'll be the judge of that, she objected, continuing the argument she'd prepared before leaving home. I am the one who is pregnant, not you. I'm in the best position to understand how I feel.”

Unsettled by her firm tone, he turned his head away from those bluish irises and plunged into silent reflection, rubbing his lower face with his hand. She would have given anything to witness the battle that must have been going on in his brain at that hour. She understood his fears, but he had to learn to deal with his employees' wishes too.

“… No, I’m sorry, I… I can't let you do that, he declared, half stammering. I… I can't take responsibility for you having a miscarriage or giving birth to a disabled child who won't have grown up peacefully.”

“Aaron, if you try to keep me out of the field, I'll resign.”

He received this reply like a slap in the face, blinking several times. It was the last argument she had in her pocket, and she had hoped not to have to use it, as she suspected the pain it would inflict. She clearly wasn't making it easy for him by backing him into a corner, but she couldn't think of a better way to make him see reason. He no longer dared look at her. His arms trembled and she saw tears forming at the edges of his eyes. She had to restrain herself from hugging him to reassure him.

“… O… okay, he stuttered after a long silence. Let’s make a deal. I… I'll let you go out into the field and face the reporters, just like you've been doing up until now, but the second you feel something's wrong, or if you're told you need to take it easy, or if you need a breather, a rest, a sit-down, ... anything, I want to know about it, he demanded, meeting her gaze again. Then we'll decide together what to do next.”

She in turn pondered this proposal. She was well aware that his intention was always to pin her down so that nothing untoward happened – to her or her baby – but he was offering her the chance to express her opinion before he made a decision. She was the first agent whose pregnancy he had to deal with, and he undoubtedly didn't know what to do to ensure that everything went smoothly, both for the mother-to-be and for the agency. The only personal example he had was that of his ex-wife, who had had to stay in bed for the last few months before Jack was born, so he had to fear more than ever that this situation would turn into a catastrophe. He wanted her to have the best possible experience, but he didn't want to lose her either. And the culmination of his reflections was this compromise, which allowed her to continue to follow the team outside Quantico, but also promised other potential tussles with him. She sighed.

“…Okay,” she conceded, realizing that she probably wouldn't get much more than that.

She reassured herself thinking that, when he saw that everything was going well, he'd let go and give her more freedom.

“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile.

JJ looked up but smiled back. She then took a sip of water under the watchful eye of her neighbor. He stared at her as if she were about to turn into a mystical creature at any moment.

“Otherwise, is everything all right?”

“I don't know, you're the one with the torn eardrum,” she teased him back.

“Apart from the fact that I feel like I'm living in the middle of an orchestra, I'm fine.”

The liaison officer laughed briefly and took another swig. All that tension had made her thirsty. He didn't touch his glass on the coffee table. Out of the corner of her eye, she detailed the damage caused by the bomb that had sent him tumbling like a piece of straw. He, a six-foot giant, had vanished like a blade of grass when the explosive went off. She could still see the CCTV images of the building next to which the vehicle had been parked and felt the anguish that had gripped her when she realized that he might no longer be with them. Events had proved her wrong, and she'd been relieved to see him back on his feet and in full possession of his senses, but all that had left its mark. His face was peppered with small cuts and a bandage covered his right ear. Which wasn't much, considering how close he'd come to death.

“Does Haley know?”

“Haley?” he raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Yes, your son's mother,” she reminded him, worrying that he might have lost his memory in the battle.

“I know who she is. Why should I tell her?”

His features had hardened. His interlocutor was taken aback that he would dare ask such a question but made the effort to remind him of the obvious.

“You almost died in a bomb attack, you're the father of her child, she's probably a little concerned, isn't she?”

“No.”

“Aaron!”

She was outraged that he would knowingly dismiss the woman with whom he had shared his life for twenty-five years when he had just suffered such a serious accident. True, the divorce papers had been signed, but that didn't mean all communication had to be cut off between him and her. Her own parents had separated when she was a child, and they kept in touch even afterwards, exchanging information about each other's health.

“Believe me, she couldn't care less,” he assured, his face closed.

“Don’t say that.”

“As long as I keep paying alimony, I can lose both my arms and legs, she won't care.”

She understood that the couple's split hadn't been amicable, far from it. Why? She didn't know and probably wouldn't since he never discussed his private life with members of his team. Still, she found it hard to believe that Jack's mother could be so dismissive of her ex-husband. Unless you were a sociopath, you didn't erase so many years of life together from your heart and head with a snap of your fingers. There were bound to be memories left, and even snatches of attachment, if the other hadn't behaved like the most foul of partners. And since she doubted that Hotch could have been violent or demeaning towards her, it was unlikely that she would dislike him so much. However, JJ remembered the last call she had received from her, and her eardrum had suffered greatly. What could have happened between the two of them for things to escalate this way? It was a mystery to which she would never have the answer.

“… I see, she commented, for want of a better rebound. What about your mother?”

JJ had already had Ada Hotchner on the phone several times when her son was deliberately dodging her calls, and she had only met her once. She'd made a strong impression on the whole team, this little lady with a strong character capable of shaking the customary stoicism of the giant in the suit. When she'd burst onto Quantico's sixth floor unannounced, she'd made the director lose all control without even having to open her mouth.

“Oh, I didn't need to tell her. The minute she heard about the bombing at the foot of the federal building in New York, she teleported to my house.”

“Reminds me of someone,” she murmured, recognizing this trait in her neighbor.

“What?”

“No, nothing, she booted out. Why she isn’t here then?”

“Because I made her get that I didn't need her.”

Unlike many men who loved to be pampered when they were sick or injured, Aaron shunned anyone who tried to help him. He'd rather agonize in his corner than ask for support. An attitude he didn't appreciate from those closest to him, as if he alone had the right to play hardball and to toil alone to accomplish a task that would go twice as fast if done in pairs or teams.

“She’s worried about you.”

“She practically implied that it was my fault that the bomb went off.”

The young woman burst out laughing in spite of herself. Like all mothers, Ada wasn't bothered in the least by the fact that her offspring was three heads taller than she was, and so indulged in reflections about him – sometimes in front of him – that none of them would ever have dared to make. And she didn't mince her words against him, expressing out loud what many must be thinking down low. JJ suddenly realized that this must surely be why Hotch had such low self-esteem and then found this outing much less funny.

The landline phone on the dresser began to ring at that moment and he immediately winced, bringing his hand to his ear in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. He struggled to reach the handset and noted the number on the screen.

“It’s… it's one of my aunts, he revealed awkwardly. It’ll take hours…”

“Okay. I’ll leave you to her.”

She got to her feet after putting the glass on the table.

“Sorry.”

“See you soon, she said, grabbing his shoulder to calm him down. And take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

JJ left the apartment with a strange feeling in her gut. She'd won her case – sort of – but was worried about her superior's well-being. Maybe they'd have to go back to the plan of action they'd put in place right after his divorce, and invite themselves back to his place without warning so he wouldn't cogitate too much in his drab little apartment.

___

Second entry for CM KidFic Challenge! /o/

This time, with JJ's point of view.

That was one of the text I wrote to explain the obvious complicity between Hotch and her. It wasn't really explain into the show, but JJ and Hotch shared a special bond that he doesn't have with the other agents (she's the only one, with Dave, to call him by his first name and, in French, she's the only one (again with Dave) to use the unformal "you" with him).

Maybe because they were both (for a very long time) the only parents of the team and as so, they knew how it is difficult to juggle between their work and their family. We can think that Jack went to JJ's house many times to play with Henry and, later, Mickael. But it's never shown.

So I wrote some texts, here and there, with just the two of them.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #agent hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #code name mom #jj #jennifer jareau #agent jareau #wednesday thoughts

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nicodemuslily · 1 month

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Kiss me, baby

I always have a hard time drawing people kissing, so I pick up some pictures of real people kissing and chose my favorite (actual) guinea pigs to train myself: Emily and Aaron. X3

Actually, it's still amazed me that we succeed to align everything (nose, chin, forehead, etc.) to do that. XD

#criminal minds #sketchdump #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotchniss #lovers #kiss #criminal minds fanart #sunday sketch time #sketches

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nicodemuslily · 1 month

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Here is my first entry for the new CM writing challenge. This time, it's all about pregnancy, babies and kids. And I start with a kid, Jack, because he's a sweetheart.

And there is no angst or hurt in this text. It's all about fluff. ^_^

Enjoy! /o/

Waterproof

Summary: All the team wheels up for a new case, except Hotch who has to take his leaves. But the team needs his advice about a law point and tries to join him on a phone. The conversation will be... special

Characters: BAU team + Jack

Contents: fluff! /o/

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The whole team had gathered in the meeting room of the police station where the BAU had been dispatched. The local police had found themselves baffled by a sudden spate of murders in their jurisdiction, so the commissioner had called in the FBI to help identify the perpetrator of these sordid crimes. The profilers took off promptly and began their inquiry as usual. Or almost since they weren't all there. The HR department had forced Hotch to use up some of the leave he'd been piling up for months without ever touching it, so the manager was missing. Which wasn't really a problem in itself, since the group knew how to function without him, the task of coordination falling to Morgan, who had taken over during Foyet's hunt.

Except that a legal point now stood in the way, and the point of view of the ex-prosecutor was essential for the proper management of the case. Crowded around the room's telephone, the federal agents listened impatiently to the dial tone. They were anxious to get his opinion so they could continue their investigations. But was he even available?

“Hello?” came a deep voice they immediately identified.

“Hello Hotch, said Derek, speaking before the others. So…

“DAAAAD!”

They all winced in unison; their eardrums shattered by the high-pitched little voice that had just screamed into the handset. A strange reverberation could be heard at the other end of the line.

“Don't shout, Jack, I'm right there,” his sire's voice calmly retorted.

“Is Jack with you?” Emily frowned, intrigued.

“Yes, he’s taking his bath, so I stay with him.”

Everyone instantly pictured the giant sitting on the bathroom floor, watching over his offspring as he frolicked in the water.

“Who's that?" asked the little boy, curious.

JJ smiled, recognizing the typical behavior of children who abandon all their activities the half-second they see their parents on the phone.

“It’s the team, they’re on a case.”

“Oh! Can I say hi to them?” he demanded with a burst of enthusiasm.

The toddler adored the men and women who worked under his father, whom he considered members of his family, just like his Aunt Jessica or Grandma Ada. Interacting with them always made him extremely happy.

“Yes. Hold on, I'll put you on speaker, Aaron declared before pressing a button. Now, go on.”

“HELLO!” he exclaimed, startling the ex-policeman standing closest to the sound source.

Altogether, with smiles on their faces, the investigators replied:

“Hello, Jack! Hi, buddy! Hello, my sugar paste bear! Hey, kiddo!”

“And I'm taking you off speakerphone because I imagine you're calling to talk about the case in progress,” resumed the head of the agency, whose voice suddenly became clearer.

“You've got it all figured out,” Dave responded, amused by the rambling conversation.

In the background, we could still hear lapping noises and lively onomatopoeia.

“Okay. Give me a quick report and then ask me your question.”

“So, that's it, began Morgan, indifferent to this unusual commotion; the Delaware police called us because this is the third time they've found a body that…”

“Dad! interrupted the youngster, unaware of the stakes in the discussion his father was trying to maintain. Can you shampoo my hair?”

Derek rolled his eyes, annoyed; the others were hilarious, enlivened by this unexpected interlude.

“You already got one yesterday. You don’t need one every day, you know.”

“But I want you to mix my head.”

“What...? Hiccupped the titan before he got what he was talking about. Oh, okay. Hold on, because I need both hands. A moment.”

They then heard some rubbing against the microphone – he must have been trying to wedge the cell phone between his ear and his shoulder – and then his voice resurfaced, a little distorted.

“Turn around. That’s it. Go on.”

As he had spoken all these words in the same tone, Morgan was slow to realize that the last part was addressed to them.

“… Uh… So, I was saying that this is the third time they've found a body, of a homeless person, who…”

“It's too good!” Jack commented blissfully.

JJ and Emily held back their laughter at their colleague's discomfited expression.

“Looks like it. Well, finish rinsing and then you’ll go out. You’re getting cold.”

“No, it's not true!” objected the bather, obviously pounding his fists in the water.

“Your lips are blue, pointed out the seasoned negotiator. Come on, the sooner you get out, the sooner you can watch a movie.”

“CARS!”

“If… if you want.”

Hotch didn't sound like someone delighted to see the production in question. The other parent on the team suspected that the kid had been fixated on this Pixar Studios work for weeks – or longer – and that it must have been playing on a loop every night since the day his descendant first laid eyes on it. Having herself endured a hundred viewings of Winnie-the-Pooh, she could understand his reluctance to see it for the umpteenth time.

“I want!” shouted vigorously Jack.

“Well, rinse then.”

“Can… can I start again?” dared Derek, taken aback by the turn of this phone call.

“Yes, sorry, Morgan. Go on.”

“All the victims, then, live on the streets, and all the injuries recorded on their bodies seem to have been caused by...”

“Wait, cut in his superior, I've got to help Jack out of the tub and dry him off. I’ll be right back.”

He must have put his phone down somewhere nearby because his subordinates could hear what was going on without having to strain their ears too much. The Chicago native sat on a nearby chair, scowling. Rossi patted him on the shoulder to offer some semblance of compassion, but he wore the same playful smile as the other three. Penelope, who was videoconferencing with them, was ecstatic.

“Let’s go! We raise our arms. And then we rub, rub, rub.”

“Rub, rub, rub,” repeated the boy in the same tone.

“Okay. Go get your pajama and bring it here.”

Footsteps scurried away.

“I’m there, go.”

“I've sent you the autopsy report to give you an idea of the problem,” announced the analyst, who nevertheless tried to simplify things.

“Well, hold on, I look at it.”

“Here, Dad! Here is the pajama!”

Morgan, arms folded, tilted his head on the back of his seat with a grunt of exasperation. The girls had to concentrate harder than ever to hold back their hilarity.

“… Are you aware that this top and this bottom don’t fit together?”

“Yes, but I wanted these two,” replied the little boy with a certain determination.

“Okay, abdicated his progenitor with a smile in his voice. Take off your robe, we'll put on the pants first. One leg first. Here. And the second one. Perfect. Hands up now.”

“Like the bad guys,” laughed the kid.

“That’s it, like the bad guys. Watch your ears. One arm after the other. Great! You’re almost all set. Go get your slippers.”

Again, they heard someone leaving in a hurry.

“What kind of pajamas did he wear?” inquired Spencer, very attentive to this singular intrusion into the agency manager's daily life.

“Reid!” exploded Derek, outraged to realize that he was finally the only one who cared about the mission's progress.

“What?” croaked the youngest member of the unit innocently.

“He has a Spiderman top and a bottom with lots of dinosaurs.”

“Isn't there a comic book where Spiderman goes back in time to Prehistory?” Prentiss noted, eyebrows furrowed.

Her colleague glared at her, but she smirked back. She didn't want the investigation to continue any less than he did, but it was hard to fight the disturbing element in this conversation. She had therefore taken a step back from the situation and, like her companions, was enjoying this joyfully suspended moment.

“There!” exclaimed Jack as he returned.

“Well, that's the whole panoply, remarked his father, with amusement mixed with a hint of weariness. Sit so I can put your slippers on. Hop! And hop! You’re handsome that way. Wait, I’ll take a picture for the team. Go ahead, strike a pose. Wonderful! Go to the living room now, I’ll be right there.”

And the child sets sail for the third time. Morgan hoped that was for good.

“And here's the star!” announced Hotch, picking up his phone again.

Everyone received a message a few seconds later and everyone – even Derek – rushed to admire the snapshot. They discovered the toddler, hair a mess, grinning from ear to ear, wearing a Spiderman pajama top, a stocking studded with prehistoric saurian and bright red Flash McQueen slippers. He arched his chest with pride, his little fists resting on his hips.

“Oooooh! He's so cute! raved Penelope, safe in her Quantico lair. Can I print it large enough to make a poster?”

“Agreed,” nodded her boss, who wasn't that far from her after all.

“That's all very sweet, but we've got an investigation to conduct and always a question to ask,” grumbled Morgan, who was nervously tapping away on the table.

“What are you waiting for to ask it?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he grumbled as his neighbors laughed.

“You’d better hurry before…”

“DAD!”

Derek left the room.

___

I think this is the shortest CM fanfic I've ever writen and as it's full fluffiness, that was relaxing. I love to imagine moments between Hotch and his son. They can be so cute together. X3

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nicodemuslily · 2 months

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Hotchniss 7

Hug time! /o/ Again! /o/

Okay, I've got this hc that even if Aaron doesn't like much to be touched, he really likes to keep Emily in his arms and to be closed to her every time he can. The same way, Emily really loves to be folded in his arms, to curl up against him in bed or just to rest on him. She feels reassured on the spot.

On the first drawing, it's a scene from my AU text where they aren't into a relationship yet. She had a nightmare and jumped into Aaron's arms to feel safe again. He didn't push her away but enjoy the situation maybe a little bit too much ( :D ).

On the second drawing, it's still in my AU, and it happened just after they had sex for the first time together. Emily completely lead the way because he didn't have sexual interactions for years at that moment. So it was not perfect but she still enjoyed it. As Aaron was still on medication to help him sleep at that time, that's why he's sleeping that way.

All the other drawings are just moments here and there where they're enjoying each other presence. :)

#criminal minds #sketchdump #criminal minds fanart #fanfic illustration #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotchniss #sunday sketch time #sketches #lovers

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nicodemuslily · 2 months

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Bridesmaids and groom outfit (AU)

Thinking about Emily and Aaron's wedding, I realised that I had to imagine the dresses of the three bridesmaid and of the groom himself.

So, following the same line I've imagined for Emily, I've created those tree outfits for JJ, Penelope and Tara. As Emily's witness, JJ would be wearing a special dress, with more features in common with Emily's. Not sure about the cuffs (I like the idea, but it's too much imo).

Then we've got the two other bridesmaid. At first, they were supposed to wear the same dress, but when the creator told them that there was a "pants" version, Tara wished to see it. Then, when Penelope saw the jacket of Tara's outfit, she wanted it too. So here it the final mix for the three of them.

Off the record: JJ and Penelope both wear dresses with an open back.

And what about Aaron?

He will wear a pretty classic wedding suit. I like contrasts so I won't pick up the very first one (full body) and I prefer the tie to the bow-tie. I really like the colors on the last one (but with a clear pants, not a green one), but it won't match with the blue of Emily's dress (even if Aaron doesn't know about it). And blue suits are great on Aaron. So, for the colors only, I'll probably pick up the second one, with the red tie.

For the shape of the cardigan and the jacket, I still don't know. XD

What do you think?

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanart #jj #jennifer jarreau #penelope garcia #tara lewis #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss #fanfic illustration #sunday sketch time #wedding dress #wedding outfits

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nicodemuslily · 2 months

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And this is my last entry for the CM challenge for January and February (I'm still on time). /o/

I love to write on moments between Jack and his father. There was not enough scenes like that in the show.

First day at school

Summary: Jack is now old enough to go at school and his father has trouble to deal with this very special day.

Characters: Mostly Jack and Hotch (but some BAU members appear)

Contents: TW well, as the king of anxiety, the text is quite angsty (mention of grief), but I tried to make it a little bit fluffy too.

This is a text written for the New Beginings CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Hotch stopped in front of JJ's desk, absorbed in her mission report, and saw her flinch when she realized he was standing right next to her. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“JJ. Tomorrow I'm going to be very late, he announced, looking a little embarrassed. Check with Morgan which file we need to work on and give me a summary of the briefing when I arrive.”

“Okay, she nodded, eyebrows furrowed. Is there a problem?”

“First day at school.”

“Ouch! She winced immediately. I’m weeping in anticipation. Good luck.”

“Thank you, he answered with a shy smile. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Hotch.”

Yes, the fateful date had arrived: Jack was now old enough to start school. An event that represented both a form of relief – for Jessica and Ada, who would no longer need to put their respective lives on hold to raise a child that wasn't even theirs – and a source of terrible anguish for the agency director.

He still couldn't believe how much his son had grown since the day he regained custody. He still had the impression of holding his tiny body in the palm of his hands, watching him stagger around the living room in search of his balance, and witnessing his chaotic attempts to learn to eat on his own. And tomorrow, he would go to school.

Tomorrow, he'd leave the nest to mingle with other kids his age, with whom he'd discover the world in all its aspects. Tomorrow, he'd be meeting human beings who wouldn't necessarily be at his feet, let alone in his pocket, with whom he'd have to negotiate, argue, discuss, and exchange to make himself heard or win his case. Tomorrow, he'd realize that life in society required bending even more rules than he'd ever known before, that obeying them wouldn't be easy, and that disobeying them would be even more damaging. Tomorrow, the cocoon in which he'd been enclosed until then would be torn apart, and his father wouldn't be there to fly to his rescue.

Aaron was unable to suppress the panic that had gripped him for two weeks now. He'd done all he could to soften it up, planning this day down to the last detail, but nothing had helped. Jack's schoolbag was ready, as were his clothes; the breakfast table was set, the car refueled, the itinerary marked, and the documents requested by the school completed. But his heart continued to drum far too hard against his ribs as he sought sleep. What he was afraid of? To be lost? It was a stone’s throw from the apartment. To be late? Even if an unexpected traffic jam came up, they could always get there on foot if need be. For not giving his offspring the keys to get by? It was a possibility, but his aunt and grandmother had had to make up for his shortcomings. That Jack has had a bad experience and never wants to go back?

A silence passed in his head as the vise tightened around his lungs. This plunge into the deep end of the pool was no small step in a toddler's life. It was almost the equivalent of a parachute jump for an adult: even with the best possible precautions, there was always a chance – tiny sometimes – that things could go wrong. He tried in vain to remember what he had experienced and felt that day, but his brain ignored his request, content to amplify the feeling of malaise that had assailed him for the past fortnight. And even if he could remember his own back-to-school experience, his descendant wasn't him. Far from it. The difficulties he had potentially encountered would not be those he would encounter. And conversely, the facilities he'd had would, logically, not be those he'd have. And he had no way of preparing him to overcome these obstacles. He had no choice but to push him into the arena and pray for the best.

An action he lived as a betrayal of the flesh of his flesh – for all he knew – and one he'd never forgive himself for if the day took a turn for the worse. He felt guilty even before anything had happened and seeing it didn't make him feel any better. Especially as another feeling wandered in his gut. He was sad. He'd imagined that moment so differently that he couldn't erase the projection he'd mentalized years earlier to update it with their current situation. At the time, he had thought that someone would be at his side to endure this heartbreak with him. That he'd have a hand to hold to help suppress his anxiety. That he would have a smile to cross to lighten the weight on his shoulders. That he would have an ear to confide his worries and questions to. But there was no one.

Tomorrow, he'd be on his own to deal with whatever came his way, and it was totally out of the question for Jack to see the stress that was devouring him by the hour. He had to put on a good show, through and through, as long as he was still in his son's field of vision. Smiling and being reassuring were the guidelines he should absolutely follow. And if he felt like screaming or running away with him in his arms, he'd have to contain himself and triple lock his emotions. Like he was doing at Quantico. Not for nothing was he nicknamed "The Iceberg" by the other unit heads. So why did it now seem so impossible?

“Put your shoes on, Jack, while I finish packing your bag,” he ordered as the kid finished pulling on his hooded sweatshirt.

The profiler hadn't slept all night, and the look on his face had given him the shivers in the mirror, but he had gone through his usual routine before waking the little boy. He, seemed to have had an excellent night's sleep and was up and about, swallowing his meal as if it were just another day. He then went to the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and quickly ran a comb through his fine hair, before returning to his room. He had ignored his father's suggestion of an outfit and chosen a more... Jurassic one, then gone back outside to give his sire a whole bunch of odds and ends he insisted he expressly needed. He then left to finish dressing, leaving Aaron with a light-up yo-yo, three marbles, a Playmobil, a Spiderman pencil, and an Elastic Man figurine. The giant sighed and reached for the boy's schoolbag to slip in all those treasures that would give him peace of mind if need be.

“Okay,” said Jack, taking a seat by the shoe rack.

“Both the same, please.”

“…Yes, Dad,” he grumbled, annoyed at not being able to carry out his Machiavellian plan.

Since he'd learned to put his sneakers on by himself, he'd taken great pleasure in combining the elements of the four pairs he had in any way he could. Hotch wasn't sure how long he'd been doing it, since he'd suddenly realized it in the park when his shoelaces were untied, and he had a waffle in his hands. His progenitor's expression of surprise had made the youngster laugh out loud, and obviously the frown that always escaped his control when Aaron discovered he'd repeated his forfeit delighted him just as much. By now, the director was getting used to it, but he didn't want to be given a bad label on the first meeting. He had been officially declared negligent to his wife, if he could avoid being so to his son, it would take a thorn out of his side.

“Are you all set?” he asked his son as he zipped up his coat.

“Yes,” he declared with pride.

“Ready for the big day?”

“Yes,” he repeated, with the same determination.

The titan knelt down to be level with the boy's face and took one of his hands.

“Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. You'll make lots of new friends and learn lots of new stuff.”

“I know. You told me yesterday. And the day before. And the day before before…”

“Okay, he interrupted before he could go any further. Well, maybe we’ll go then. It'll save me having to tell you again.”

Jack's smile stretched from ear to ear, mocking. Father and son were currently living on two different planets, the first as anxious as the second was serene. The profiler could have rejoiced that the kid had obviously taken everything from his mother – both in physical appearance and in mind – but mostly he felt particularly foolish. He swallowed to try and get the knot out of his throat, without success. The duo left the scene, found the car, and climbed in. Hotch started up shortly afterwards and took to the road. Sitting in his booster seat, Jack observed the building facades, nodding his head in harmony with the music playing on the car radio.

“Try not to lose your things, please,” said his father when he stopped at the first red light.

“Why would I lose them?” questioned a puzzled Jack.

“Because when I was your age, I was always losing things. Every day, I came home from school with something missing, he revealed, as he suddenly reminded this detail. It drove you grand-mother crazy. So, if you take after me a little, it's likely to happen to you.”

He also remembered that he had absolutely no explanation to give his mother every time. He'd put them in a corner and when he came back to them, everything was gone. Of course, he didn't realize the financial impact his air headedness was having, and only thought that a new pair of gloves or a new beanie would fall right into his lap the following week. But now that he was on the other side of the fence, he understood better the dark looks Ada had once given him. His brain also reminded him of the consequences for herself, but Jack's voice short-circuited this plunge into the abyss of his memory.

“So, it’s no big deal.”

“What?” he croaked, surprised by the kid's reflection.

“You're saying I'm going to lose my stuff like you did. So that means it’s normal. So it’s no big deal.”

Aaron squinted, analyzing his son's reasoning. His train of thought was a bit far-fetched, but made sense, nonetheless. However, this wasn't going his way, so he resumed:

“…Yes, except I wish you wouldn't do what I did. Because I won’t be able to buy it all back. Okay?”

The little boy wore a worried expression that struck him right in the heart. He had never intended to stress him out and regretted imposing this rule on him from the outset when the day was already going to be rich enough in new information.

“Okay. It won't be a big deal, but just try to be careful, he recommended, diplomatically. Understand?”

Jack nodded, looking concerned.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, Dad,” he replied cheerlessly.

The sadness on his face aroused his father's natural guilt, and he mentally reproached himself for this dispensable outburst of severity. He had to defuse the situation so that his offspring didn't arrive at school looking so down. The boy possessed an innate joie de vivre that regularly lifted his sire's spirits, and he was keen that his future classmates should see this aspect of his personality first and foremost. So, at the next traffic light, Hotch reached behind him to tickle the toddler's belly, who immediately began to squirm to dodge the attack. His mouth twisted, stretching into an amused smile before a burst of laughter crossed his lips. His assailant rapidly regained his good humor and started up again. A few minutes later, he parked in the school parking lot.

“Here we are.”

The federal agent got out of the car, walked around the vehicle and unfastened the seatbelt. He helped Jack onto dry land, and the latter immediately slipped his hand into the adult’s while he retrieved his bag. Then the pair joined the flow of other parent-child pairs making their way towards the headmistress. She greeted them with a broad smile when it was their turn.

“Good morning, gentlemen, she trumpeted cheerfully. Olivia Simmons, I’m the school director.”

“Hello. Aaron Hotchner and this is my son,” he answered shaking her hand.

“And what's this big boy's name?” she asked, leaning towards him.

“Jack, ma’am,” he confided, suddenly shy.

He tried to hide behind his father's legs, all of sudden much less at ease in this unfamiliar environment.

“You can call me Olivia, she said reassuringly. Welcome. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me. Okay?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he did, clinging to Aaron's fingers.

“Come on. You can join your comrades over there.”

She pointed to a group of schoolchildren, all displaying the same nervousness. Those who had been there all along were just beginning to relax enough to meet the newcomers. Jack looked up at his ascendant, his eyes shining. He was scared. Hotch crouched instantly in front of him, while the headmistress moved away to address other parents. He could feel the trembling of the kid, who had snuggled into his arms as soon as possible and clung to his jacket like a lifeline. An irrepressible urge to take him away from all this arose in him that he had to fight fiercely. The moment was heartbreaking for both of them, but it was a necessary step in their life together. Soon – he was praying for it – that day would be a distant memory, leaving only a faint trace in the boy's mind.

“Are you picking me up tonight?” he questioned him, his little knuckles closed around his tie.

“I don’t know yet, Jack. Maybe it'll be Jessica,” he asserted, quickly realizing that he'd been so focused on the start of the new school year that he'd forgotten to think about when classes would end.

“I'd rather it be you, Jack confessed, turning his eyes on him. Then I could tell you everything I did today.”

He could hear the boy's plea, but all his professional responsibilities came to the fore and there was clearly no room for a mid-afternoon return to the area. Even less so if a file requiring travel was to fall on his team.

“I'll call you if I have to leave, he declared before emphasizing, Jessica will take very good care of you.”

“But it's not the same,” moaned the youngster, on the verge of tears.

Aaron felt his throat tighten, his insides liquefy, and his muscles tense in unison. This reaction was exactly what he'd been dreading, and dismay overwhelmed him. His thoughts raced through his head. They bumped, piled up, and disintegrated until they formed an unintelligible mass of words and sensations that didn't help him at all to get out of this trap. But the boy's tremors called for a response from him, and only one possibility was open to him.

“…I'll try to be there,” he said in the end.

Jack’s smile reappeared on the spot.

“But I can’t promise anything. Okay?”

“…Okay,” he replied, without quite losing his new-found good humor.

“I love you, buddy,” he confided, placing a kiss on his temple.

His offspring embraced him and said:

“I love you, Dad.”

Then Hotch kissed him on the forehead and encouraged the boy to take the first step. Reassured, he headed for the group of children, one of whom immediately approached him. The agency head was too far away to hear what was being said, but the tone seemed friendly. He got to his feet and sighed heavily to ease the tension in his muscles. Having completed the first stage, he now had to tackle the second. In two steps, he reached the director.

“Mrs. Simmons.”

“Mr. Hotchner,” she reacted, smiling.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“If it’s about allergies, we have a form to fill out for that,” she anticipated, pointing to the table set up nearby, on which several documents had been made available to parents.

“No. No, everything is fine from this side.”

“Perfect. What’s the issue then?”

He felt the cold take possession of his body and a knot formed in his windpipe. What he had to reveal was already painful in thought, it would be even more so when he had to say it out loud. Months and months had passed since the events, but he still had the feeling that it had just happened or, sometimes, that it had just been a bad dream from which he was finally waking up. The euphoria that followed disappeared as soon as he stepped into the living room and saw the portrait on the dresser, the only two plates on the dining table or the toys scattered on the carpet.

“… His mother died, he announced, his voice breaking, before adding: a year ago.”

“Oh. I'm sorry for your loss,” bounced the forty-year-old, genuinely moved.

“Thank you.”

Then he saw her frowning, puzzled.

“Excuse-me but… do I know you?”

A shiver ran down his spine and he swallowed his saliva, uneasy.

“… I hope not. Why?”

“Your face looks familiar, she admitted, before pulling herself together. Well, never mind. Go on.”

“Normally, he has understood that she won’t coming back, but it's possible that his mind is sometimes elsewhere. He may also resent being reminded by his peers that he has only one parent left.”

Even though he had coped much better with the disappearance of the woman who had given him life than he had, he occasionally caught him standing motionless in the middle of his toys, mute and with a low expression on his face, obviously prey to some questioning. It was a fleeting state that faded as soon as Jessica, he or another family member entered his field of vision, but Aaron always paid close attention. In the same way, he had noticed his envious look at the park as he watched the other children interact with their mother. He appreciated his father's presence, but missed Haley's gentleness and positivity.

“Yes, I understand, nodded the headmistress, adopting a soothing expression. Look, Mr. Hotchner, Jack isn't the first child we've taken in who's already lost his mother, so we should be able to manage.”

“Okay. If… if there's any problem, I've written my cell phone number on his card, he insisted, handing her the document. You can call me anytime.”

“It’ll be fine, I assure you.”

He was sure she was convinced by her words – and she probably had all the skills to handle this type of case – but couldn't stop his anxiety galloping through his veins. He was already ready to jump out of his chair, get back in his car, and drive to school to put his son's mind at rest. This reminded him that he hadn’t told her everything.

“One more thing. It is… – he hesitated, conscious of the image this would give of him – probable that I won't be able to pick him up tonight. Only two people are allowed to pick him up. Here is, Jessica, his aunt, and Ada, his grandmother.”

He presented her with snapshots of the two women and she retrieved them, squinting.

“Wait, aren't you the FBI agent who was stabbed to death in his home a little over... – her enthusiasm waned as her memory delivered the rest of the information – a year ago? Oh, my God! Is it… Whoever did this to you is...?”

Hotch cursed Strauss for allowing this reporter to publish this article in the Arlington daily, complete with his photo portrait and far too many details about his assault. Several neighbors had been worried for their lives, and he had had to do some explaining to get them to dare leave their homes again. Fear had reigned over the neighborhood for several weeks, before being gradually dispelled by other news. But some people hadn't completely forgotten, and his interlocutor was now shocked by his mere presence. Completely unsettled, she stared at him as if he were on his deathbed. He had to cut short this situation, which was as embarrassing for him as it was for her.

“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sure! Of course. Excuse me, she went on, distraught. I get that… Photos. Thank you. We… we’ll take good care of Jack.”

She no longer dared to look at him.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Okay. Very good. Good… Have a good day.”

“I hope so.”

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but her state of shock prevented her from seeing it. He climbed back into his car and drove towards Quantico. He reached the sixth floor just as JJ was settling down in front of her screen. She looked up at him and asked, curious:

“So?”

“He's surprisingly quick to forget my existence,” he observed, as the boy had ignored the last greeting he'd tried to give him.

Absorbed in a conversation with two other boys, he had obliterated his father's tall silhouette from his surroundings.

“Oops! Grinned JJ, feeling sorry for him. Are you okay?”

“It'll be tough, but I'll get through it, he joked without much conviction. What do we have?”

His heart was still pounding under his skull and his muscles were still tense from the tension built up over the last few days. He needed to take his mind off the latent anguish compressing his ribcage.

“Three men found in a river in a small Wyoming town.”

“Locals?”

“No. They were all just passing through, JJ pointed out, handing him the folder. The sheriff is under pressure; tourism is what sustains the locals.”

Reflexively, he opened the cover, but his eyes fell on the scene of the tragedy. His son's words echoed in his head.

“A problem?” inquired JJ, aware of his trouble.

“Jack would like me to pick him up from school tonight.”

“I see. What’s the plan?”

“I'm still thinking about it, he confessed, unable to make a definite decision at this hour. Let’s go.”

Within minutes, the whole team was gathered around the briefing room table, and JJ gave them a brief description of the case and the latest advances in Garcia’s research. The profilers did a series of hypotheses and deductions, concluding that an on-site presence was essential.

“Off we go,” Morgan said, determined.

Everyone left their chairs and collected the papers spread out in front of them, except Aaron, who did not move from his seat. To the surprise of his flock.

“Hotch?” Derek raised an eyebrow, concerned.

His brain was still weighing up the pros and cons of whether or not to accompany his men into the field. While his neighbors were quoting on the proposed case, he had drawn up a comparative table in his head in order to make his decision. So he hadn't listened too much of what had been said, but finally knew what he was going to do.

“Go without me. I have an imponderable here that requires my presence. But I'll be available most of the day and tonight if necessary.”

“Most of?” repeated Prentiss, baffled.

“Not between 3 and 7 PM,” he clarified, rising to his feet.

With the exception of JJ, all the agents looked at each other, equally confused. It wasn't the first time he hadn't followed them in their investigations – his layoff, his most serious injuries and the loss of his ex-wife had kept him at home – but the specificity of this time slot was surprising. They waited for further information, which their superior did not give them, considering it none of their business. He and the liaison officer exchanged glances and agreed that he wouldn't take it badly if she revealed why he'd had to forfeit this time.

“… Okay. See… see you later,” Morgan stammered before leaving the room.

“Good luck.”

Soon he found himself alone with Penelope, who questioned him in silence, unsettled by this sudden change in protocol. He reassured her with a smile and urged her to return to her post to support her colleagues already on the way. He returned to his office and stayed there for most of the day, answering calls from subordinates and others seeking the BAU’s help, relieving the workload of the team's only mother so that she could devote herself fully to the case. One thing led to another, and his employees untangled all the knots in the story, uncovering the culprit's identity in record time. Hotch had already left his office and was driving towards downtown DC when he received a message from Derek that the suspect was under arrest. At the first red light, he sent a congratulatory message to each member of his team, and then continued on to the school, a little more appeased.

When he pulled into the nearby parking lot, the gates were still closed and only two or three parents were present. He got out of his vehicle but didn't approach them any further, not daring to disturb them or impose unwanted greetings. Anyway, his mind was entirely focused on the imminent arrival of his son. He kept his fingers crossed that everything had gone well and that all he wanted to do was go back. He hoped his master or mistress would be friendly, that he would have learned lots of things that piqued his interest, and that he would even have made some friends. In short, he prayed that he wouldn't be so angry at him for throwing him into the lion's den, with the intention of repeating the gesture.

The bell went off somewhere within the walls of the building, and less than a minute later, two people came to open the doors to the street. Many more mothers and fathers had appeared since then, and they had all stiffened at the sound of the chirping. In the end, they were all moved by the same concern, which somewhat reassured Aaron, who had often been criticized for overreacting to innocuous subjects. A handful of children emerged from the corridor and rushed towards their targets at full speed. A second wave soon followed, and more pairs and trios were formed. The director felt his heart quicken as his neurons began to imagine all sorts of contingencies that could explain this absence. At the third salvo, a familiar face stood out from the crowd and was immediately spotted. Jack galloped toward him with a smile running from ear to ear, and he threw himself into his arms with a blissful expression that annihilated all apprehensions of this very special day.

___

In the original draft, there's a dialogue between the BAU team members after they left Quantico. JJ told them the truth and as Emily was asking out loud why he didn't say it to them, Derek explained that he just couldn't (because: "Boys...", you know. XD).

I cut it because it's written with Hotch's point of view, so he can't hear them. And I wanted a cuddle between the two Hotchner's boys. X3

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #agent hotchner #code name mom #criminal minds fanfic #jack hotchner #jj #jennifer jareau #agent jareau #father #son #wednesday thoughts

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nicodemuslily · 2 months

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Hotchniss 6 (AU)

Back to my B&W sketchdump, still with by favorite idiots.

Here is what we can call a preview of what's happening in my AU sequel of Code Name: Mom. If you remember the page with Aaron in his straitjacket, this is what goes next.

Aaron went free from the mental hospital he was locked in for years and Emily offered to take care of him during his physical therapy (he can't move his arms and can't speak either). As a friend. Buuut, her feelings start to change weeks and months passing (or maybe they were always there but she never gave them any chance to rise up). And one day, they... Or maybe not. :D

On the first drawing, she has to cheer him up because he feels so down not being able to do anything as simple that holding a fork or put a clothe one. Second one is them walking in a park in DC, him giving her the advice to not put her work first in her life like he did before. Third is Aaron and Jack retrieving their stuff they had to left behind when it was time for them to go under witsec. Fourth is Aaron trying to wake Emily when she felt asleep on the couch and had a nightmare. Fifth is just Emily finding Aaron hotter than ever. Sixth is Emily making the first step without knowing Aaron's feeling.

That story was supposed to be a short one, starting with the discover of Hotch in the mental hospital to the moment Emily makes her offer. But the story behind was so interesting, so emotional, so many things that I couldn't stop my brain to run free.

The other sequel is interesting too, in a very different way. I honestly wish to have the time to work on them this year (more than just by writing dialogues, even if it's the first part of the process).

#criminal minds #sketchdump #sunday sketch time #sketches #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotch #prentiss #agent prentiss #lovers #fanfic illustration #criminal minds fanart #jack hotchner

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nicodemuslily · 2 months

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Emily's wedding dress (AU)

Here is (finally) the page with the wedding dresses ideas I've got for Emily.

The biggest one is the one I had in mind when I imagined the perfect dress for her. I wanted for her something simple, not too fluffy, without too much glitters or laces. And as there is a whole plot with the asymetrical side of the dress, so it needs to be asymetrical. XD

So, this was my idea, with a bit of flowers, leaves and butterflies. And, as I love contrast, this whole blue part.

But, as she wants something that makes Aaron's jaw drop on the floor, I look at real dresses on Internet.

And here is what rises from my researches (it's not exactly the real model, I mixed some of them together). What do you think?

I really like the last one actually, but it may be too classical.

___

Link to my DA page for a better view >> Emily's wedding dress by NicodemusLily on DeviantArt

#criminal minds #sketchdump #wedding dress #bride #emily prentiss #fanfic illustration #sunday sketch time #sketches

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nicodemuslily · 2 months

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New chapter for my Hotchniss current (short) fanfic! /o/

I've got so many ideas for other short ones (some one-shot, some other with a tiny amount of chapters) and I so much need to work on the other two long ones. T-T And the main CM one too. *dies*

Well, smut is in da place, so minors, go away! Others, be my guest. :D

Eager

Summary: Emily is back in America, Doyle has been killed and she is now free to knock on Aaron's door after three month without seeing each other.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss (+ Jack and Jessica)

Contents: a tiny bit of angst, but it's most of all smut with plot. MINORS DNI/NSFW.

This text is a part of a "What if?" self-challenge named: Seven days only. The pitch is: "What if Aaron discovered all by himself that Emily was sent to France when she was under witness protection and decided to tell her the truth about his feelings for her?" I limited myself to seven texts for this AU in a nutshell. Hope you'll like it. :)

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

When the doorbell rang at dusk, Aaron frowned. But a smile stretched his lips as he caught sight of the figure in the peephole. Unlocking the door, he opened it to his surprised guest. Her expression of joy at seeing him was echoed on his angular face, and they dispensed with words. He stepped out of the way and, with a wave of his arm, welcomed her home.

“Emily! Exclaimed Jack jumping up from his chair. You’re back from your trip!”

He rushed towards her, hair blowing in the wind, and she knelt down to embrace him. The little boy was as delighted as his father to see her again, but undeniably not for the same reasons. The day before, the whole situation that had led to the young woman's forced exile had come to an end. She had set foot back on American soil to complete the file she had been dragging like a ball and chain for too long. Aaron was also back in the homeland after a tumultuous stint in Pakistan with the Army. The two had exchanged a look that spoke volumes of the relief they felt but had gone no further. In the evening, overcome by jet lag, the director returned to his home, gave his son – who had also missed him – an interminable cuddle and then collapsed into bed until the next day.

Emily had struggled to keep her eyes open at the party thrown in her honor before abdicating to crawl into her sheets. Professional, they attacked the next day like any other working day. With the exception that they were dying to talk face-to-face and that he had to spend all his time at headquarters in Washington DC to report on his mission to the higher-ups. When she didn't see him reappear after six o'clock, she decided to make an unexpected visit.

“When did you get back?” asked Jack with a burst of enthusiasm.

“Two days ago,” she replied, touched by the warm welcome.

The child worshipped the BAU profilers as demigods and was always very enthusiastic when he came across them. But she certainly wasn't expecting such an outpouring of energy. And she doubted he'd be so affectionate when he found out why she was here.

“Where were you? What did you do? Did you take pictures?” He continued, barely breathing between questions.

“Jack, calm down. At least let Emily say hi to Jessica.”

She only noticed the presence of Aaron's ex-sister-in-law. It was she who had taken care of the toddler during his father's absence. His resemblance to Haley was as striking as on the day they first met, and Emily wondered how he managed not to see it. He had assured her that there was nothing more than friendship between him and her – and she believed him – and Jessica had always been very gracious to her. But the ambassador's daughter feared that their relationship would become more complex as soon as she realized that she and the giant shared more than just a professional bond.

“Good evening, Emily,” she greeted her with a smile.

“Good evening, Jessica, she said, trying to relax. Sorry to drop in unannounced, but I... I had something to say to Hotch. Aaron, I mean.”

The latter turned his gaze on her, clearly surprised. She felt like telling him to use his brain, as the father of the family could easily be both very intelligent and very stupid. He went from the second state to the first when he realized it was just a pretext. What his neurons envisaged for the rest of the evening triggered a reaction in his body that he had to counteract quickly by thinking of something else.

“I guess you two need to be alone, then,” deduced Jack's aunt in a tone that electrified Emily.

She was suspicious.

“Oh, I don't want to chase you away, asserted the federal agent. If… if you need to say something to Aaron or… if you want to stay a little, it… it’s okay. I… It can wait.”

“Everything’s fine. I have an obligation somewhere else.”

“Is it true? She reacted, too cheerfully. O… okay. I… Have a nice evening.”

“You too. See you on Monday, sweetheart,” she said, crouching down to take Jack in her arms.

“See you Monday, Jess!” he said, giving her cheek a long kiss.

“Have a good weekend, Aaron,” she continued, rising to her feet.

“Have a good weekend, Jess. And thanks again.”

“You’re welcome. Good evening, Emily.”

“Good evening, Jessica.”

After giving her one last suspicious glance, Haley's sister left the premises. The profiler could feel her heart beating beneath her skull. She turned her attention back to the two boys, and it was clear to her that they hadn't noticed a thing. Aaron smiled at her, and all her anxiety vanished. She narrowly avoided jumping on him to kiss him.

“Dad! Is Emily staying for dinner?”

“I don’t know. Ask her.”

“Emily, are you eating with us tonight?” he asked, his eyes full of stars.

A flush of warmth invaded her.

“If you want to, yes.”

“Yes! I want! He shouted, ecstatic. And afterwards, would you like to see the movie with us? Because I want to!”

“Well, it seems to be a good idea.”

“Yeah! Exclaimed the youngster, overjoyed. Did you hear that, Dad? She stays to eat and to see the movie.”

“Yes, I heard,” confirmed his father, his gaze fixed on his guest.

He wanted to ask her a question, but his instincts told him he already knew the answer. He was looking forward to this part of the evening. In the meantime, they dined in the kitchen – a dish prepared by Aaron's mother –, their irises constantly crossing as Jack gushed about his adventures, extraordinary from the height of his five-and-a-half years. Emily had to control herself to avoid playing footsie with the agency manager under the table, as a preamble to what was to come. But after settling down on the sofa, with the kid between them, they took advantage of the fact that he was so absorbed in his cartoon – almost falling off the sofa – to take each other by the hand. A seemingly innocuous contact that excited them far more than it should have.

Three months. It had been three months since they'd last seen each other, and this was having an impact on the way their bodies behaved. The slightest touch, the slightest breath, the slightest eye contact fanned the fire in their innards. Snatches of memories of their lovemaking surreptitiously returned to their minds, fueling the furnace of their desire. They were starving. At that moment, they would have given anything just to feel each other's skin again, its smell, its taste, its warmth, its moisture. They wanted to become one again, which was impossible as long as Jack was awake.

With the film over, Emily watched the entire bedtime ritual from afar, impressed by Aaron's apparent calmness given the night's schedule. She spun like a caged lioness in the living room, her heart pounding against her sternum. In the boy's room, the profiler watched his son’s attitude out of the corner of his eye. He hoped to see his eyelids flutter and his shoulders gradually slacken, clear signs that he was falling asleep. But this was a new story, and his descendant was more attentive than ever to the sound of his voice. The man guessed that his visitor was getting impatient in the other room, as he himself wanted to join her as soon as possible. Knowing she was so close, yet so far away, altered his diction, and he had to gather his strength not to let anything of what he was feeling show. His listener was a walking emotion detector, and anything that intrigued him. However, fatigue eventually got the better of his desire to hear the rest of the story, and his eyes gradually closed.

Emily jumped to her feet when she heard a floorboard creak at the end of the corridor. Aaron gently closed the door behind him as the young woman looked on. Feverishly, she waited for him to approach at last, a smile frozen on her lips. Without making a sound, the tenant of the premises took the steps that separated them, and she whispered:

“He’s sleeping?”

“Yes. Or he’s a very good pretender.”

She held back a burst of laughter.

“Do you still have something to tell me?” he asked, with a grin that she now well recognized.

“More than ever,” she confirmed, a mischievous expression forming on her red face.

“… Wait for me in the bedroom, I have to turn off all the lights and close the door.”

A sudden impulse crossed Emily’s chest. For half a second, she wanted to press him up against the wall to capture the mouth she'd been dreaming of for months.

“Don't take too long,” she said instead, backing up to the threshold of the master bedroom.

Aaron obeyed. He hurriedly flipped all the apartment's switches after locking the only access point. His excitement reached such proportions that he had difficulty walking normally. However, he did what was necessary to avoid waking his son by returning to the corridor and joining his lover. Well, if she still was. Nearly ninety days had passed since their last romp, and her feelings may have changed. A part of him chastised him for believing such nonsense – shouting that all the signs were there to prove him wrong – but another reminded him that reading the behavior of normal people was not his strong point.

Emily stood between the bed and the front door, stiff as a board. She had just taken the initiative of removing her shoes. She watched her host gently push the door open until she heard the discreet click of the latch. Then he turned to her and stepped closer. She felt like she was on the verge of a heart attack.

“What did you have to tell me?”

The idea of hitting him to teach him how to be such an idiot popped into her head, but a more burning desire immediately annihilated it. She caught the titan's face in her hands and kissed him fiercely. He answered in an instant, holding her close and mingling his tongue with hers. She stepped aside:

“Make love to me.”

She took his lips again, the time for a heartbeat, and blew.

“Make love to me, Aaron.”

They shared another kiss, then he replied:

“At your service.”

In two steps, she was lying on the mattress, and in less than two minutes, all their clothes were strewn around them. He slipped his fingers between her thighs and realized there wasn't much more he could do. His partner was ready to receive him, exactly as she had suggested. He lay on top of her to kiss her and entered her not without some trepidation. He prayed inwardly to live up to her expectations. For her part, Emily bit her lips as she felt Aaron's extremity insinuate itself into her vagina after having to make do with her only souvenir for so long. Their muscle memory soon overcame their ability to cogitate, and their bodies began to move in unison, as they had done during the last days of that torrid week.

Hands clutching pillowcases, Elizabeth Prentiss's daughter, eyelids closed and mouth open, took in the waves of pleasure that rose from her lower abdomen, shook her organs, rolled under her ribs, and overwhelmed her brain. Jaws clenched in exertion, the BAU director strode energetically back and forth, repressing his urge to surrender to the intoxicating sensation that would reward him at the end of the road. He had to hold on no matter what, even though he was struggling to catch his breath; even though his arms were trembling under his own weight; even though his heart was threatening to break. After three months without any contact, he couldn't disappoint her by giving up the first.

Emily gave Aaron the encouragement he needed as she closed in around him. She was on the verge of the ultimate orgasm and knew that these last movements would require more concentration than ever from her lover. He wished to come inside her and that's all she wanted, but she desired to enjoy it as much as he did. More, she mused, emitting a whine louder than the previous ones. More, she reiterated, clinging to her benefactor's sweaty shoulders. More, she thought as she blurted out his first name. His pelvis collided with hers and fireworks exploded in her lower abdomen. The blast swept away all her thoughts and drew a mute cry from her. A warm surge spread through the hollow of her loins, Aaron finally surrendering after this hard battle with himself.

She pulled him to her breast before he moved away and kissed him again and again to show her admiration. He finally lay down beside her and they exchanged a long kiss, as tender and affectionate as a kiss between two lovers separated for too long.

“I imagine you'll want to sleep here,” he surmised as they resumed normal breathing.

“Stay for the night, yes. Sleep… not yet,” she stressed, meeting his gaze.

Aaron smiled and placed his lips on Emily's. One of his hands began its exploration of the hills and valleys of his accomplice's anatomy. He got the message perfectly.

___

Hope you've enjoyed your trip! :D

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #smut #seven days only

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nicodemuslily · 2 months

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New chapter for Code Name: Mom, this one not related to any challenge.

Hope you'll like it anyway. :)

(Sorry, I won't say much, I'm too tired for that right now. ^^; )

In name of Spencer

Summary: Post-S08E12. Maeve has been killed and Spencer is at his lowest. Hotch wants to cheer up the youngest member of his team, but the task is not easy, even more when his superior search for explanation

Characters: David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, JJ, Alex Blake + Erin Strauss

Contents: this text is part of no challenge. I just wanted to write something about how Hotch deals with Reid's pain.

TW: mention of what's happened during Zugzwang episode, and pain, grief, etc.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

“Did you call me?” inquired Dave, on the threshold of the next office.

Aaron looked up from his screen immediately.

“Yes. Did you know that starfishes have eyes at the end of their arms?”

“What?” gasped the BAU co-founder, completely baffled by this strange question.

“Did you know or not?” insisted his cadet, nervously.

“Yes. I’ve already been to the aquarium.”

“Darn! It means he knows it too.”

Disappointed, the giant turned his attention back to his computer and wondered what new query he could put into his search engine. For his part, his opposite squinted, puzzled. When he had seen his supervisor's e-mail, he had expected to answer a few interrogations about a past or current investigation, not to be tested on his knowledge of marine biology.

“… What are you up to?” he asked logically.

“I’m trying to find a fact that Reid doesn’t know.”

“Good luck. Why?”

Hotch sighed and pushed away his keyboard. Empty-headed, he had no idea how to continue the quest he had been on for several days. But maybe his mentor could give him some inspiration.

“Because… After Haley's death, Spencer would regularly send me messages about all kinds of incredible things that, of course, I didn’t know, he confessed, dodging his interlocutor's gaze. He did it not to show off, but to divert my attention.”

“And you'd like to return the favor by diverting his.”

“Beth thinks it might be a good idea.”

“And I agree with her.”

It had now been just over a week since the tragedy, and Aaron's youngest subordinate was bearing the full brunt of the consequences. Holed up at home, he didn't answer calls or messages sent to him, just as he ignored people knocking on his door. Guided by his instinct, the agency manager knew he was still alive, but imagined him curled up in an armchair, staring into space, or dragging his feet limply from one room to another, tears rolling down his unshaven cheeks. He himself didn't expect any response from him to this potential anecdote, content with the simple fact that it may have eased the young man's pain for a time.

“The thing is that I can't find anything that lives up to the fact that the northern lights are the sun's spittoons.”

“What?”

“That's it in a nutshell, but that's about it. He had written this message with a link to a very interesting video on the origin of the northern lights. We watched it together, Jack and I.”

He still remembered the moment of confusion that had seized him when he had read the SMS with this premise. Then, his curiosity piqued despite the vice that was crushing his insides at the time, he clicked on the link. And for a little less than a quarter of an hour, he had forgotten the pain that haunted him from morning to night, fascinated by this impromptu talk. He then showed it to his son, who couldn't miss a bit of it, his eyes wide at the discovery. Thirteen minutes and twenty-two seconds seemed like a drop in the ocean compared to a lifetime; but in this context, it had represented a point of light in the darkness that was devouring him. A star in the night that had relieved him. And there had been plenty more after that one, which, he was sure, had kept him from getting lost in the dark. If only he could do the same for Reid…

“And how many years do you think it will take you to find it?” ironized his guest, who would certainly never have embarked on such an ambitious project.

“I can’t say. For now, I’m searching and asking people if they know.”

“And?”

“And then, not only do I not find it, but I look like an idiot.”

The novelist burst into laughter. Aaron frowned.

“It’s not funny, Dave, he scolded, annoyed. This kid is at the bottom of the abyss, and I've got nothing to help him get back up.”

Rossi raised his hands to temper his anger and, still smiling, came to sit on the chair opposite him.

“Have you thought about what he doesn't know?”

“He knows everything.”

That’s where the issue was. The young agent had several doctorates in his pocket, plus everything he'd read since he'd learned to do it. For a thirty-year-old with a passion for reading and for discovering new things, this meant that he had a wealth of wisdom that was hard to fault.

“Everyone has an Achilles heel, even him.”

“I only know one, but I’m pretty sure that it’s not the right time to talk about it.”

Formidably intelligent but completely inept in terms of social relations, Reid's love life could be compared to a very long desert crossing. In fact, his knowledge of hanks was limited to theoretical principles and all the possible deviations he had picked up in his criminology lessons. The boy was a blank page in this field who had come very close to be covered by his first story.

“… What about cooking? Bounced Dave. He doesn’t strike me as a cookery specialist.”

“True. But he’ll know that it’ll come from you. I’m not a cook myself.”

Far from it. Besides, the longer he stayed away from stoves and knives, the better it was for those around him. Unlike Rossi, who was a born chef and whose dishes delighted the agents' taste buds.

“Does it really matter where the tips comes from? After all, you don't seem to be a starfish specialist either.”

The BAU’s eldest scored a point. Spencer had surely told him things he'd learned on his own during his young life, instead of, like him, seeking information on subjects that were ultimately of little interest to him. Which didn’t do his business any favors.

“… I’ll ask the others, he announced after a sigh. They must know more than I do about what he's not good at.”

Although often on the road with his team, his subordinates were nevertheless closer to each other than he was to them. And they had all more or less taken the youngest of the gang under their wing, helping him gradually to emerge from his cocoon. Leaving his chair, Aaron made his way to the bull-pen area where Morgan, JJ and Blake were chatting over a cup of coffee. They stiffened as he lunged in their direction, but relaxed when he explained what he expected of them. The trio immediately began to think.

“Surprisingly, he's lacking in popular cinema, declared the ex-liaison officer. Or in literature for teenagers.”

“Why?” her superior raised an eyebrow, not seeing what she was referring to.

“He doesn’t know who Edward Cullen is.”

It took Hotch a few seconds to put his finger on the vaguely familiar name. The image of a sallow, unkempt teenager popped into his mind, along with all the criticisms he'd heard about the cinematic work that concerned him.

“I'd like to say it's not a big loss, he commented, raising his eyebrows, but it's mostly that he's not going to be interested in it at all. The idea is to bait him into doing further research and get him thinking about something else.”

“Sure, it's not a good idea to burden his mind with a vampire who looks like a disco ball,” agreed Derek, half-seriously.

Putting aside all thoughts of novels for young readers and their big-screen adaptations, the group fell into silence. It had to be said that the task was an arduous one, but everyone was motivated to help their colleague out of his slump.

“There's also video games, which I'm obviously better at than he is,” Dave remarked with a certain pride.

Despite his attraction to popular culture, particularly in terms of films and TV shows, Reid stayed far away from anything that resembled modern technology: computers, cell phones and games consoles. In contrast, the eldest of the BAU enjoyed his free time with controller in hand, challenging anyone who wanted to try his luck. Jack, the unit's oldest child, had already had the opportunity to confront him on several occasions, with varying degrees of success.

“I don't want to underline his ignorance either. We have to cheer him up, not shoot him in his back.”

“But we could encourage him to join an online game, with Emily for example,” suggested JJ, who had kept in touch with the current head of Interpol's London agency via Internet Scrabble games during her French run from Doyle.

“Hotchner!” suddenly exclaimed a voice from behind.

He didn't even flinch, but he didn't turn around either. Instead, he remained in position and continued:

“She’ll ask him questions and he’ll be embarrassed to answer them. She should be briefed beforehand.”

“Agent Hotchner! Are you deaf?”

Furious, Erin, who had just emerged from the elevator, circled around his imposing frame to plant herself right under his nose, forcing him to stop ignoring her.

“Chief Strauss, I didn't hear you come in,” said Aaron, in an even tone.

“Don’t push your luck, she scolded, wrinkling her eyelids. In my office.

“With all my due respect, I’ve got work to do.”

“Me too, she snapped, snarling. In. My. Office.”

Without waiting for an answer from him, she went back the way she came and frantically pressed the call button. Hotch, who suspected the reason for her anger but had no desire to discuss it, took a deep breath and followed in her footsteps, not without slipping a final instruction to his men:

“… Keep thinking.”

Without exchanging a single word, the two managers made their way upstairs to a large, dark-tinted office. Strauss took her seat and indicated the chair opposite her with a wave of her hand. Aaron settled down slowly, raised his head and, in the most innocent tone possible, said:

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes, you could say that, squeaked the section chief, her clear eyes focused on him. Why did you grant Agent Reid unlimited leave?”

“Dr. Reid.”

“I beg your pardon?” she retorted, caught off guard by this outburst.

“Spencer Reid has five doctorates.”

“He’s an FBI employee.”

“He prefers to be called that way.”

The woman in her fifties gave him a disillusioned look. The two agents hated each other cordially and did everything in their power to make each other's lives miserable at most. Hotch, who had less power than his interlocutor, played the groping more than necessary simply to destabilize her. He wasn't unaware of how important these diplomas were to Spencer, but as it stood, they weren't the reason for this summit call. Erin pouted, supporting the fixed irises of her unruly staff member, then sighed:

“Fine. Why this unlimited leave?”

“Because I’m more generous than you are.”

“What?” she reacted, outraged by this ill-timed attack.

“He has just lost someone very dear to him. His girlfriend, to be more precise.”

Strauss widened her eyelids in surprise, then frowned. Her thoughts became confused for a few moments. Should she put him in his place for his unfair reflection on the number of days off she'd given him after his ex-wife's death? She had followed protocol and offered him early retirement so that he could devote his full attention to his son. But he refused her offer and returned to his post once the time had elapsed, without making any further demands. For her, this meant that he hadn't needed much more to assimilate what had happened and reorganize his new life. And, on the other hand, this story of a girlfriend for the BAU’s youngest agent intrigued her.

“When?”

“Saturday.”

“What’s happened?”

“I don’t know the details.”

“Really?” she doubted, trying to break through the stoic mask the director was presenting to her.

“I respect my men’s private life.”

Hotch saw his superior’s jaws tighten. She didn't believe for a moment what he’d said but knew that raising her voice would lead to nothing but even higher barriers between him and her. If she wanted to get at the truth, she was going to have to play it smart.

“Good. Then explain to me why your technical analyst's computers were activated on Saturday, as were your business phones and car GPS units.”

“… Another team may have used them,” suggested Aaron after a minute’s thought.

“I received an invoice from the SWAT to your name.”

“I’ve lost my apartment keys.”

A wave of fury overwhelmed the tenant's good intentions.

“Hotch! Don’t take me for an idiot! What have you been up to again?”

“Why?” he asked coldly.

“What do you mean by ‘why?’? I end up with a weekend crew using FBI equipment and an agent on leave until 2099. I demand an explanation!”

“I couldn’t go any further.”

“What...? She hiccupped before understanding what he had meant. Aaron, pissing me off won't make this conversation any more pleasant. What did you do?”

“What are you planning to do?”

Determined not to give up any information until he was certain that nothing would happen to his team, the giant walled himself up in the smoothest possible attitude, leaving his adversary of the day nothing to hang on to. Strauss knew this behavior all too well, and it irritated her to no end. Blowing out a breath to soothe her irritation, she changed her tune.

“… Look, I understand that you're trying to protect your men, but the Committee is demanding explanations, and at this time I can't give them any.”

“I can talk to them.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“It won’t be a first.”

“Yes, and they don't have very fond memories of your unit.”

In order to justify the outrageous expenses incurred by the BAU in faking the disappearance of one of their own in the eyes of an international terrorist, Hotch and his crew had to appear before the top brass of the Bureau. Fiercely arguing to defend their every move, none of them had shown an ounce of remorse or commiseration in front of this jury of the first rank. On the contrary, they stuck to their guns as if they'd been in the right from start to finish. This arrogance displeased management, who decided to take a harder line and keep a close eye on their movements.

“Don't you understand that if I don't have anything in my hands, I can't defend them and you with them?”

“I didn’t know you were concerned about us.”

“Aaron, I know appearances are against me, but I'm not your enemy. I need to know.”

She couldn't have been more right, her subordinate thought. When Gideon and Rossi had left him in charge of the unit, he had immediately gone up to the section chief to present his vision of things. And he had literally seen her change color when he had explained the scope of the project. FBI headquarters had authorized the BAU to expand following its good results, but not to the extent he had imagined. Going from two agents to six – including a technical analyst demanding expensive computer equipment – and a private jet, had given Strauss cold sweats. However, unable at the time to counter the young director's rock-solid argument, she had capitulated. Which she now regretted more than ever, given the financial sinkhole this agency had become some days. And Hotch couldn't count the number of times she'd pointed out Spencer's ineptitude, Jason's and then Dave's great age, Derek and Emily's impulsiveness, or the fact that he could handle JJ's duties just fine.

So, no, he didn't believe her when she said she was on his side. Worse still, he knew full well that he and his men had acted totally out of line, and had made countless mistakes, right up to the tragic end. In fact, confessing to her was a bit like pushing the whole team off a cliff. However, he wasn’t fooled. This insistent request didn't come from her directly, but from her superiors, who were still reeling from their defeat in the Doyle affair. And as long as they didn't get an answer to this new and costly mystery, they'd keep her on a short leash and, by extension, she'd never stop pestering him. A burden he didn’t feel like carrying around.

“… Okay. On one condition.”

“Which one?”

“I want to be held solely accountable.”

“Why am I not surprised? She sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. Go on.”

She understood that he wouldn't incriminate any of his men but gave in because she would at least know what had happened.

“Reid called me late Saturday afternoon, Hotch began. He urgently needed to see me. He was under a lot of stress and had trouble speaking. I tried to find out what was going on and postpone our interview until Monday, but he then confessed that his girlfriend had disappeared.”

“I didn’t know he was dating someone.”

“Welcome to the club, he tossed out evenly. It was very recent, even though they had been communicating for just over three months.”

Strauss frowned, unsettled.

“’They had been communicating’? What that supposed to mean? They’ve never met?”

The section chief’s surprise was justified. He himself had thought he had misheard when Blake had revealed the strangeness of this relationship. However, while he had initially blamed this modus operandi on Reid's sociability difficulties, the reality was quite different.

“No. For a good reason. This woman was a victim of a stalker. A female stalker,” he added immediately.

“It exists?”

“It’s uncommon, but yes. These women often suffer from erotomania or are simply jealous. Maliciously jealous, emphasized the profiler in order to make her hear how dangerous this woman was. In our case, it’s the second option. Reid's girlfriend, Maeve, was a rather gifted geneticist. Her stalker had sent her a thesis, which she rejected on purely scientific grounds. But for this woman, it was the trigger that made Maeve's life a living hell.”

Aaron was pouring out this flood of information without taking the time to breathe, and his interlocutor had to stop him to clarify a point.

“Wait, did you discover all this during your investigation or did Dr. Reid tell you?”

“No, we found out on Saturday when we were doing our research.”

“This type of investigation does not fall within your jurisdiction, so why didn't you entrust it to local authorities?”

“Reid asked for our help.”

“So what? You know the laws better than anyone, Hotch. You knew you were doing it illegally.”

A former federal prosecutor, the director of the BAU continued to keep abreast of developments in American law whenever his overloaded schedule allowed him a little free time. In fact, he was well aware that the case he and his team had been following over the weekend did not fall within their remit. Diane Turner, though unbalanced, had not killed anyone before that day, and the police, who were unaware of the scientist's disappearance, had not asked for their help in solving the harassment that had degenerated. They had knowingly encroached on a territory that was not theirs, in defiance of all the laws that existed and that governed the tasks of both parties in normal times.

“Yes, but Reid would never have trusted anyone but us, and we couldn't have found Maeve without him.”

“Did he help you with the investigation? Realized Erin, flabbergasted. Despite his proximity to the victim? You know how quickly this can turn into a procedural error.”

“Yes. But we had no other option. Maeve was on the run, in hiding; she had become a ghost to escape her stalker. The only one who knew her and could therefore give us clues as to how to find her was him.”

“That’s why you conducted this operation undercover. To hide the fact that you've been working hand-in-hand with someone far too emotionally involved. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

The director gave him a look that spoke volumes about what she thought of this way of doing things. But he did not flinch. He didn't turn his head away or blink, proving that he was fully aware of his choices. A long stream of air escaped his superior's nostrils and she continued, as calmly as possible.

“What happened?”

“We discovered that the stalker was nothing less than the new girlfriend of Maeve's ex-fiancé. She broke off their engagement to steal her lover. To get what she had, he added, trying to get her to understand the young woman's psychology as best he could. Except she found out about Reid and Maeve. She then realized that the ex-fiancé was no longer of any use to her.”

“Did she kill him?”

The section leader may not have been a profiler, let alone a field agent, but that didn't stop her from knowing how to add two and two together. With the few crumbs her employee had deigned to throw her, she had been able to make the necessary deductions, and denying the truth would have been quite pointless.

“Unfortunately, agreed Hotch. Maeve was next on the list, but Reid suggested an exchange. Him in place of her. His plan was to present himself to the stalker and make her believe that it was she he loved after all, rather than Maeve.”

“For what purpose?” asked Strauss, eyebrows furrowed.

“Give her what she wanted: the recognition of an intelligent being. A very intelligent being.”

It may seem a trivial detail at first, but the crux of the problem lay in this aspect of the personalities of the protagonists of this sad story. All Diane had asked for was for a great mind – by her own standards – to endorse her and prove that she was not just another grain of sand in the universe. Unable to be content with her simple condition as one human among billions, she had made this quest her obsession, not hesitating for a moment to eliminate anyone in her path.

“Did she accept?”

“To meet him, yes. Alone, without gun and bulletproof vest. “

“You didn't let him?" she said, suddenly concerned.

“I did.”

“But…”

“I know it sounds absurd, but unarmed and unprotected, you seem much less aggressive, which can create a much calmer climate for dialogue.”

It was a dangerous maneuver, one that could turn into a sudden execution at the slightest change of tone or ill-chosen word, and one that only skilled negotiators were expected to carry out; however, circumstances had meant that Spencer had been the one and only potential candidate for the task. And, at this hour, knowing the outcome of this face-to-face encounter, he remained convinced that if Dave, he, or any other member of the BAU had come forward, things would not have gone any better; indeed, the death toll would have been even higher.

“And where were you?”

“Outside. With the rest of the team.”

“You left that kid alone, facing a hysterical, armed woman?”

“This plan could work; I had faith in him.”

Erin couldn’t believe it. From the outset, she had resented the presence of this tall, gangly teenager, who could barely hold a revolver and ran out of steam after only a few yards, in this unit that hunted down the dregs of humanity. In fact, she was quick to remind the man who had welcomed him that she had only agreed to validate his hiring because he should have been sitting behind his desk. And now she discovered that he had been thrown into the lion's den without even the means to defend himself. The absurdity of the situation immediately gave her a headache.

“What went wrong?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there, admitted Hotch. We heard a gunshot and went in.”

“Had she killed Maeve?”

“No. She had shot Reid in the arm.”

Better and better, Strauss thought, repressing her urge to scream.

“Please tell me you've put her out of action.”

“No. Reid still felt he could negotiate with her. His life for Maeve’s…”

The giant fell silent as images of the scene flooded back from his memory. Like his colleagues, he replayed that evening over and over again, trying to find the moment when everything had changed. Trying to understand where the mistake had been made, so that it would never be repeated.

“But things didn't turn out as planned, did they?”

“No, he admitted, lowering his nose. Understanding how important Maeve was to Reid – unlike her – she killed two birds with one stone.”

A shiver ran down the section chief’s spine.

“… Meaning?”

“She held Maeve close to her. She aligned her head with Maeve's and pulled the trigger.”

What her imagination drew in her mind immediately made her nauseous. Within seconds, she felt as if all her blood had drained from her extremities. Although more often seated in a chair than pounding the countryside, like the man in front of her, the director knew the terrible damage a firearm could do to a human skull. Witnessing this horrific spectacle live left an indelible mark.

“… D… Dr. Reid was there?”

“Yes. We were all there.”

“And… none of you…?”

“We didn't have time to react, confessed the unit manager, not very proud of this error of judgement. We knew she had suicidal thoughts and was in danger of ending her life before our very eyes, but we didn't anticipate that she would take her target with her.”

He didn't know what it was like for his agents, but he'd clearly underestimated the extent of her neurosis. He hadn't imagined that her anger and hatred would be so great that they would combine at the last minute with her self-destructive impulses. But the mistake he'd made was surely to have let Spencer lead the conversation from start to finish, when he wouldn't have been sure himself – with the hindsight he had at the moment – of preventing her from pulling the trigger. He might have been able to save Maeve, but Diane’s frustration was far too deep-rooted in her veins for her to have listened to reason. And he was an experienced negotiator, unlike the young man who was just starting out in this field.

“… So, to sum up, Strauss resumed, fighting back her desire to raise her voice, three people died while you were unofficially investigating the whereabouts of one of them, involving an agent who was somehow intimately involved with her.”

Hotch nodded without opening his mouth. The section chief hoped this meant he realized the breaches of protocol this whole affair concealed, as well as their consequences. But to be absolutely sure she decided to emphasize the irresponsibility he'd shown over the weekend.

“Do you get that these three deceased people could have been members of your own team? You knowingly put them in danger to find someone Dr. Reid had never even seen! You're a branch manager, you're responsible for the lives of each and every one of your agents; you're not supposed to push them off the rails!”

“They volunteered,” said the profiler calmly.

“What?”

“Once Spencer had finished explaining the problem, I told them we'd have to work under the radar. I gave them the choice of leaving or staying, he explained, before adding: They chose to stay with full knowledge of the facts.”

“Of course, they stayed. You’re as close as the fingers on a hand. Your suggestion was purely rhetorical.”

Although she wasn't around the BAU agents very often, she had studied many of their mission reports and had read a lot of the information between the lines about their group dynamics. With their disparate temperaments, they were nonetheless ready to do anything to protect their peers or come to their aid if need be. A relationship that is more friendly than professional, which management could have welcomed if their actions had not flouted the established rules. She could easily imagine that they hadn't hesitated for a moment to follow their superior's plan, without even considering the possible repercussions on their careers. And she was convinced that Hotch knew it, even before offering them a way out.

“So what? What are you going to do? Cancel Reid’s leave? He doesn't even come out of his home,” he revealed, disguising his concern as best he could.

“I want a report,” she spat in an unapologetic tone.

“No. No way.”

Erin wasn’t surprised by this rebuff. She had even expected it, as well as the battle ahead. The director of the Behavioral Analysis Unit may have adopted an icy demeanor on a daily basis, but he protected the men and women who worked under him with an almost maternal ferocity. His superior had lost count of the number of times she had argued with him for long minutes – or even longer – without succeeding in obtaining the name of the culprit(s) in his team. Failing that, she'd had to fall back on him, except that he didn't seem to mind in the least. But this time, she was determined to win this face-to-face encounter, even more so now that she knew the details of this sordid story.

“Hotch, I want a mission report about this case.”

“If I do this, the others will have to do one too and everyone will pay for it.”

In fact, according to established protocol, each agent quoted in his brief was required to write his or her own version of the facts, so that all aspects of the case would be known to the higher-ups. As a result, if the file showed that mistakes had been made, the competent authorities only had to bend down to pick out the names of the culprits and punish them as they saw fit.

“You don’t have to put any names.”

“Please, no one up there will believe that I conducted this investigation alone or with complete strangers. And even less that I've managed to analyze data here, while being elsewhere.”

He had a point, but she hadn't said her last word.

“The Committee won't let me go until they really know what happened.”

“I refuse to sacrifice my team because they wanted to save someone in defiance of a sacrosanct protocol established by bureaucrats.”

“Aaron, you can't use FBI equipment for personal purposes!”

“That woman was in danger!”

Silence fell over the office following these sudden outbursts, and the two fighters stared at each other for a long moment, concentrating to keep from blinking. Strauss sighed.

“Hotch, like it or not, I need something official, in writing, to present to the Committee. Something that could justify turning on your analyst's computers, moving your vehicles, using your phones, and giving Dr. Reid unlimited time off. Without the bait, you know exactly who the piranhas are going to pounce on.”

Indeed, he could see perfectly well who was going to suffer the brunt of this backlash. That said, he knew that the result would be more or less the same whether he wrote something or not. Right now, the Bureau's top brass didn't know who was responsible for all this unauthorized activity, so their wrath could fall on anyone. However, being no fools, they would logically turn their attention to the usual owners of said equipment, summoning the unit manager as a matter of priority to get to the bottom of the whole affair. And if he gave them his report, even if he omitted the identity of those present, the brass would come down on him and demand clarification. He wouldn't supply them, of course, but this first step forward, a sign of goodwill on his part, would perhaps mitigate their desire to remove him from office.

“… How soon do you need it?”

“First thing in the morning.”

“My report is likely to be very concise.”

“Do your best.”

Without another word, she indicated the exit with her chin. Accustomed to this stinginess in politeness, he got up and headed for the closed door.

“Aaron,” she called out as he put his hand on the handle.

Without saying a word, he slowly turned around, wondering what else she wanted from him.

“How is he doing?”

Hotch frowned, unsettled. His superior rarely worried about his flock, even though she knew how difficult their mission was and what they had been through. For all he knew, she'd done nothing for JJ when she'd nearly been eaten alive by rabid dogs, nor for Derek when he'd come within a hair's breadth of exploding in a New York ambulance, nor for Penelope after she'd been shot in the chest. Why she was asking him? What did she really wanted to know? Impossible to determine as it stands, he concluded in his mind. He didn't have enough information to answer these questions and didn't intend to linger in the office any longer. What's more, even if the probability was low, it was possible that the section chief might actually be on their side this time, smoothing things over with the bigwigs at FBI headquarters. And so, he decided to play fair.

“Like a teenager who's lost the love of his life.”

___

Not my best work imo, but I like some lines here and there. :)

Hope you'll like it better.

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