#Because I think he *also* blamed himself for Aaron's death and letting it get that far despite Aaron being the adult | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

backpackgoldfish · 2 years

Text

Don’t Let Me Go - Part 3

Summary: After the death of her Father, Y/n finds solace in the arms of her father’s best friend... Aaron Hotchner.

Pairing: Dbf!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Series warnings: death, murder, smut (I plan to write lots of smut😈) age gap (reader is 18 or older and Aaron is in his 40s I think)

Series masterlist

Sorry for the wait and also sorry for those of you who may looking for some spice at the end of this chapter I didn't realize I was working on the next chapter when I asked, so things will be heating up soon just not in this chapter... technically...

Also I I didn't really edit this cause I forgot about it so please excuse any mistakes

As the sun rises both Aaron and Y/n lie awake, physically separate but mentally in the same place. Neither one has stopped thinking about the kiss all night. The young girl hasn’t stopped touching where his lips were on hers since she entered her room, she never wants to forget the feeling. She knows what she did was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself. He just looked so good in the darkness of the night, a darkness they could hide in from the rest of the world. In truth she isn’t sorry for what she did, kissing him felt amazing, and she’d do it again, but she’s sorry for how this might change their relationship. And now she’s scared to face him in the light of the morning.

The older man on the other hand, feels like this is all his fault. He wonders if he led her on in some way, somehow made her believe he was interested in her in anyway but platonically. Aaron tries to convince himself the reason he enjoyed the kiss was not because it was with Y/n but because he hasn’t been kissed in so long. He tells himself if he was in his right mind when it happened it wouldn’t have happened, and maybe it wouldn’t have, but it did. Now he must live with it.

At least he stopped it when he did. Just imagine if he hadn’t come to his senses and let that girl climb into his lap, that would have been so much worse. He wouldn’t have been able to stop then. And you can’t just sweep something like that under the rug, pretend it never happened, or convince yourself it was a momentary lapse in judgment, that you just lost control for a bit, no. no, if that had had happened he would be in a world of trouble and guilt.

As his thoughts wander towards the idea of if he let her climb into his lap, he finds himself wondering if she’d feel as good as he imagines, would he be able to let her go or would he grow addicted. He feels like she would be so easy to get addicted to. Does she taste as good as her lips do? No! Aaron, get ahold of yourself.

The older man decides to get up and get dressed hoping it’ll help clear his mind. But as he stands from the couch, he gets distracted by the sound of someone reaching the bottom of the stairs. He turns and meets Y/n’s gaze. Her eyes widen in slight panic, not fully ready to face him yet. But before she can stop her stop herself her sight drops to his bare chest, his shirt discarded in the middle of the night trying to get more comfortable, blaming heat for his insomnia. But then her eyes drop a little lower… She realizes what she just did at the same time Aaron does, and as a deep blush blooms over her face she abruptly turns and heads to the kitchen.

“Y/n we should talk.” Aaron speaks as he quickly put back on his shirt before following after her. Y/n opens the fridge and starts pulling out things to make breakfast.

“Do we have to?” She doesn’t look at him as she responds, focused on pulling out the eggs and setting them on the counter before closing the fridge door.

“Yes.” She turns and looks up at him, but she doesn’t know what to say. He steps closer to her until he stands right in front of her, she feels so small with him towering over her, and as he looks down it’s like he sees her for the first time. As the beautiful woman she’s become and not just his best friend’s daughter. “Last night…” Aaron starts but trails off as he searches her face for how she’s feeling.

“Please don’t… Please don’t try to profile me.” She whispers. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I didn’t mean to, and it won’t happen, okay?” her voice is shaky, and she fights the tears that want to form in her eyes.

Aaron doesn’t know what comes over him, maybe it’s the same thing that happened to Y/n just a few hours before, but somehow, he finds himself grabbing her face and pressing his lips to hers. Y/n moans quietly into the kiss, her hands fisting at his shirt, trying to get him closer. He presses her back against the edge of the counter making her gasp at the abruptness of the whole thing. Her lips are so soft, and her kisses are so delicate. The make him feel like a different man, they make him forget the harsh reality that is his life, make him forget all the terrible things he sees every day. He thinks maybe this is what he needs now, her sweetness, her light. he’s become so cold he needs her warmth. Their lips move so perfectly against each other.

So wrapped up in one another they almost don’t hear as the two little boys charge down the stairs, but the excited voices alert them of the approaching children. The break away from each other as quickly as they can. Y/n busies herself with the food on the counter while Aaron goes to the coffee maker on the other side of the kitchen.

The boys run to Y/n excited for breakfast, hoping to get her to make waffles and bacon. Both the boys are still in their pajamas just like Y/n and Aaron. And for a moment as Y/n looks at everyone, she pretends this is her life, making breakfast for her family, on her husband’s day off. She imagines they would spend the whole day in pajamas just being together, running around outside and playing games together, then at night they’d watch a movie and when the kids fall asleep her and Aaron would carry them up to bed and tuck them in before retiring to their own room, and maybe they’d try for another baby once they’re alone…

But her daydream breaks when she gets a reminder of reality in the form of her mother entering the kitchen, dressed and ready for the day, presumably to give off the appearance of being put together in the presence of company. Y/n wants to roll her eyes; you don’t have to be perfect every second of the goddamn day. Your husband just died maybe try to act like you care and stop using it as an excuse for attention. The young girl wants to scream at her mother but keeps her thoughts to herself, maintaining the perfect daughter role just like how her mother raised her.

“Morning mom.” Y/n greets with a smile. “Going somewhere?” she does her best to hold back her annoyance as she pulls out a bowl to start the batter. Y/n had agreed to Ben and Jack’s request without even realizing it, to caught up in her own imagination.

“No.” her mother laughs softly. “I always get dressed before coming down for breakfast, remember?” Diane gives her daughter the look again, and this time Y/n knows she can’t ignore it.

“You’re right, I guess I just never noticed, silly me.” The girl gives her best fake smile and her mother does the same back, the tension between the two fills the room with an awkwardness that is hard to ignore, poor Aaron just standing to the side has to listen to the two.

“Oh Aaron, let me do that.” Y/n notices the tone of her mother’s voice and stares at her in utter disbelief.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Y/n nearly crushes the whisk in her hand as she watches her mother put her hand on Aaron’s arm. Thankfully, Aaron steps out of the way as Diane finishes making coffee. But Y/n has to hide her little smirk as Aaron joins her to help make breakfast.

“What can I do?” Aaron asks with a little twinkle in his eye as he looks down at Y/n.

“Um, can you do the bacon?” she asks him so sweetly, with the same twinkle reflecting in her own eyes, he couldn’t say no if he wanted to. He nods as she hands him the picture of meat, their fingers linger for just a second as they touch in passing. She ducks her head as she smiles getting back to making waffles. She touches her lips for just a second, thinking something incredible is starting, while Aaron internally beats himself up and tells himself after today, he won’t see Y/n for a while.

Maybe it’s time to go back to work, he thinks. But as he glances at Y/n, seeing her smile at his son, asking if he wants to help her pour the batter into the waffle maker, he knows work won’t help.

He’s fucked.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #dad's best friend #forbidden relationship #george foyet #george foyet x reader #hotch x reader #jack hotchner #dont let me go #dlmg

317 notes · View notes

darkdoverpseeker · 11 months

Note

Heyo! ⚡🕷️⚡

I (19M) just watched Spiderman Across the Spider-verse, so spoilers in this if you haven’t seen it.

I’m looking for someone who wants to rp something involving the characters or plot. You must be 18+. I’m more than open to smut, darker themes, romance, etc. Id like to keep it MxM, as that’s what I’m comfortable with.

I rp only on Discord but we can plot here on tumblr. I tend to write at least two paragraphs but try to copy my rp partner in length. I welcome both singles and doubles. I also am more than happy to involve ocs as I play both ocs and canon characters.

All characters would be aged up with 18 or older in any rp I do.

I welcome aus, like canon divergence or even omegaverse(as long as my character is the alpha). If you have anything in mind just let me know.

I have a few plot ideas that I can do into more depth with if you’re interested, so I’ll try to summarize. This is about to get long so get ready.

Malcolm Davis AU: An AU of mine with canon divergence. Post movie Miles defeats the Spot and thanks to his own powers he somehow gains the Spots powers. He is believed dead by the multiverse at this point. Using his new OP powers, he turns back time and places himself back in his original universe, but at Aarons son instead. So og Miles still exists, and movie Miles starts going by Malcolm instead. He still has his spider powers and Spot powers, but keeps it secret until the plot of the movies happen again. Malcom remembers everything that happened in the past, but no one else does, so when the Spot appears again, he helps fight him. Can involve things like angst, family bonding, romance, smut, etc. Malcolm is very overpowered in this, since I’ve taken Spots powers and the spider powers with some liberties.

Miles and his boyfriends/Harem: This is very self-indulgent. You would play Miles Morales, and I would play other male characters (Hobie, Pavitr, Miguel, Peter B, Eddie Brock, Gankee, my oc spiderpeople and villains, etc etc). I don’t have much more than Miles just being shaken at having so many people being attracted to him and trying to woo him. This plot could be normal, or even omegaverse or something with maybe the spiderpeoples spider powers that draws them to Miles. It would be a smutty rp, so keep that in mind.

Tinkerer Miles: An AU where I would play Miles who became the Tinkerer. It can be post movie Miles, who is believed dead by the spider ensemble who somehow learned to control the glitches and whatnot. It can also be a whole other universe where after both his parents and his uncle died, Miles became the Tinkerer. In this AU his family would have died to one of spiderman’s villains or because Spiderman made a wrong decision, so Miles would blame him. Tinkerer Miles would be able to access to multiverse cuz he’s that smart, so you can play anyone you want, be it Spiderman, an OC, or someone completely third. Can involve anything from angst, to smut, to romance.

Stain Miles: Similar to the Malcolm au, I would play Movie Miles who has become jaded after what happened, and has somehow defeated the spot and gained his powers. His original dimension was destroyed, leading to him jumping from dimension to dimension in hopes of finding any semblance of joy. Has a deep hate for any version of spiderman, since he blamed Miguel and the spider ensemble for the death of his family and the destruction of his dimension.

Prowler Miles: I would play Prowler Miles. I don’t have a specific plot in mind, it can be set in the Prowler Miles universe, or across the multiverse as that’s possible. Could involve anything from smut, to angst, to romance, etc.

These are just plot ideas I’ve had, but I’m open to talk about other ships or ideas you may have. If you like more than one of these AU versions of Miles, I can play multiple, as it is the multiverse so it can happen. I like to make Miles a little more spidery, think organic web shooters, fangs, etc, since I think that’s cool.

interact if interested!

#cc x cc #m x m #1x1 rp #omegaverse rp #spiderman rp #spiderman roleplay #spiderverse rp #spiderverse roleplay #18+#spicy #discord rp

11 notes · View notes

prpfs · 11 months

Note

Heyo! ⚡🕷️⚡

I (19M) just watched Spiderman Across the Spider-verse, so spoilers in this if you haven’t seen it.

All characters would be aged up with 18 or older in any rp I do.

I welcome aus, like canon divergence or even omegaverse(as long as my character is the alpha). If you have anything in mind just let me know.

I have a few plot ideas that I can do into more depth with if you’re interested, so I’ll try to summarize. This is about to get long so get ready.

Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!

#spiderman across the spiderverse roleplay #spiderman across the spiderverse rp #fandom roleplay #fandom rp #m/m #dead dove

10 notes · View notes

splishsplashyouropinionistrash · 2 years

Text

We’re back, bitches!

You will never escape me.

It’s time, once again, for AFTG Hot Takes, the show where I just say whatever the fuck pops into my head.

Today’s topic: Kevin Day and his romantic interests.

Now, okay, I’ve discussed this a bit in previous posts. I’m not going to go too far in depth for the two ships I’ve talked about already.

Please, for the love of god, these are just my opinions. I’m literally just a teenager on the internet. It’s not that deep, you don’t need to write a ten paragraph essay on why grooming is okay (although tbf that made my night. Still waiting on a reply, bb)

With that out of the way, let’s get into it.

I’ll be honest, I’m not a fan of most Kevin ships. I only like two of them, so we’ll save those for last.

1. First up we’ve got Kevandriel, Kevneil, and Kevandrew (pls dont @ me, i’m not 100% on those names)

I hate it. Despise it. Just so bad. Ew.

I made a whole post on why I have Kevandriel, read it if you want.

Kevandrew (Kevin/Andrew) just doesn’t make any sense. Their personalities don’t mesh at all. Kevin doesn’t take no for an answer, which is something that is so important for Andrew.

Kevneil (Kevin/Neil) is one I just don’t like because, as we all know, I am a petty bitch. I don’t have a reason for disliking it, really. It just... idk, gives me the ick.

2. Moving on, Kevin and Thea.

I made a post regarding this one too, check it out (or don’t).

I don’t feel like rehashing all of that tho, honestly. (but pls feel free to read the reblogs, some were v good and others just made me cackle. Still looking at you, grooming guy)

3. Now, onto the ones I haven’t discussed. We’ll go with Kevjean first.

So, I mean... it’s not impossible that this actually happened in cannon, however. Just judging by the reactions these two had to each other once Jean was out of the Nest, them sustaining a healthy relationship would be nearly impossible.

Also, I am a diehard Jerjean fan (thanks gus_47, I blame you and the masterpiece that is Hoax for this) so I just... can’t bring myself to picture Jean with anyone else.

4. Kevin and Jeremy!

Listen, I don’t hate this one. I simply adore those fun lil fics where Kev is tripping over himself cause he’s in love with Jeremy (looking at you, quicksand). They’re so fun! But, Jerjean owns my soul (again, thank you Hoax) so it’s gonna have to be a no from me.

5. Kevin and Matt

I’ll be real with you, I didn’t know this existed until yesterday, and I am shocked.

I haven’t stopped to think about it much, and I probably won’t, because Dan. I just- that is her husband, excuse you.

6. Kevallison (Kevin/Allison)

I don’t mind this one, honestly. I sorta get it, tbf.

HOWEVER.

Diehard Renison fan. Enough said.

And now, at last, we come to the two Kevin ships that I can (and do!!) suport whole-heartedly.

7. Kevaaron !! (Kevin/Aaron)

Listen, I just love their personalities. I love the idea of these two assholes healing together. Simply adore.

Before you say it (you know who you are, and yes I’m still salty ab this) I. Don’t. Ship. It. Because. I. Want. Andrew. And. Kevin. Together. ffs, people. What kind of person do you think I am?

8. Kevin and... (drumroll please)

Himself!

I am 100% in support of aroace Kevin living his best life with his friends and family.

I mean, it’s lovely. Spectacular. 10/10, adore it.

Okay okay I’m done (for now)

Let me know what other hot takes you’d like to hear!

And as always, if you disagree with anything I’ve said, fight me! I mean that, i love a bit of lighthearted discourse. (unless your opinions are truly heinous, in which case I will verbally punch you in the trachea.)

Blah blah hitman, blah blah death threats

#aftg #aftg textpost #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #kevin day #splishsplash originals

26 notes · View notes

thesiriusmoon · 10 months

Text

Stay With Me

Summary: The aftermath of Penelope’s date has the entire team shook up, but determined to find out who hurt their girl.

Characters: Bonnie McBride, Penelope Garcia, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi

AU: Criminal Minds

Episode used: Penelope (S3, E9)

A/N: a lot of this is probably false facts because I’m not a doctor… and sorry for spelling errors I sometimes miss them when rereading. And just when you think I’ve finished the story… SIKE, I just keep on going

Word count: 5.6K

TW: mentions of blood and death

—————————

The car ride to the hospital was a dark blur. Her head hurt painfully and her chest felt like needles were stabbing her over and over again.

Silent tears strolled down her cheeks, waiting for the SUV to come to a final stop, where she would then tumble out, sick to her stomach, and race into the blinding white building.

“I’m looking for Penelope Garcia. She was shot.” A sob escaped her lips as she spoke to the receptionist. It couldn’t be real. Penelope couldn’t be in a hospital with a bullet wound… she was too kind. Heart was too big to be taken down so easily.

“Miss Garcia is in surgery right now. You may wait if you’d like.” Bonnie nodded as her headache worsened. She turned away from the desk and felt her legs numb, and would have hit the ground if Agent Hotchner hadn’t have caught her seconds before.

“It’s alright… she’ll be alright.” He whispered to Bonnie, but also himself. Trying desperately to mentally hold himself together while physically holding Bonnie who was trying to keep consciousness.

“Here, sit down.” A soft cushioned chair softened her drop, and her head found its way buried into her hands, her body hunched over.

Agent Hotchner couldn’t sit. He was pacing, as he would do when stress was eating away his skin.

Sound was the only thing Bonnie focused on. Not the best choice. There were the voices of nurses and doctors passing the waiting room, patients being wheeled and transported, and the many footsteps that trampled over her ears.

The thundering of a group made Bonnie raise her red face. She knew who it was.

Jennifer, Emily, Spencer, and Rossi.

Derek wasn’t here.

“Hey, we got here as soon as we could. Where is she?” Jennifer asked, her blue eyes wide with motherly worry.

“She’s in surgery. We just have to wait.” Agent Hotchner seemed just as impatient than when they first arrived. When he didn’t pace, he rocked on the balls of his shoes.

“Well…” Emily cleared her throat. Her mascara was smudged under her eyes and her eyelids didn’t have long until they permanently shut. “I’ll go get us coffee… I assume none of us are leaving until we have word?”

Everybody nodded.

Spencer chose the chair furthest from the door, wrapping his knuckles and humming to himself, Rossi and Agent Hotchner both decided it would be best for them to check the scene, and leave the rest of the team here to watch over Penelope, and Jennifer sat herself beside Bonnie.

“Hey. Keep your head up, Penelope’s a strong girl. It’ll take more than some asshole to bring her down.” The woman’s voice very soft and kind, something Bonnie bathed in every time she spoke. Jennifer was a flower garden, daisies, tulips, all the pretty kind. Just don’t get on her bad side. Because just as easy as it was for her to grow a dandelion, she could grow nettled and thorns too.

She was probably already plotting revenge.

“I was supposed to meet her tonight. But I fell asleep on the jet… I could have been there.”

The guilt Bonnie felt weighed so hard on her shoulders she couldn’t sit it straight. She should have been better. She shouldn’t have rested. She had to go to Penelope’s. But failed, and now her friend is lying on a surgery table with a bullet in her chest.

On the day her father passed years ago, she had also failed to save him. And her mother could never let it down. Even if she doesn’t talk about it anymore, it was Bonnie to blame. Even though it was stupid to leave a six year old in charge of a thirty year old, Bonnie still could never shake her guilt.

Perhaps that was why her mother still struggles to look at her after twelve years had gone.

Jennifer’s gaze softened and lay a gentle hand on Bonnies back between her shoulders, rubbing it ever so softly. “You couldn’t have known. You were tired, we all were.”

“I could have saved her…” the young girl mumbled towards the ground, feeling angry tears build up in her eyes.

Why couldn’t she ever do right?

“None of us could ever think something like this could happen. I think you should rest, get some sleep before-“

“No. I have to stay awake until she’s done.” Jennifer sighed.

“Alright. But… it could take a while.”

Bonnie nodded. “I know.” Feeling her legs begin to shake from exhaustion catching up on her sleepless nights.

While Bonnie fought sleep, Jennifer sat back, sinking deep into emerald green cushions of the couch, her eyes full of pity for the young girl.

Hours went by slowly. Every time Bonnie checked her phone for the time after what seemed like an hour, only ten minutes had gone, and her eyelids were becoming increasingly heavy. The coffee Emily had given her had only increased the anxiety coursing through her veins, it had done nothing to keep her awake. Unless you count the jitters she was having.

The sound of a door slowly creaking open caught her attention. And suddenly she was more awake than she’s ever been. The waiting room had been replaced with a dark room, the only light being from a brown door in what seems to be a corridor.

One thing she noted was the smell. Medicine, moisture, body odour. Her old apartment from many years ago. She must have been crouching, the ceiling was high and the door more than twice her size. But when she tried to look down to the ground, she didn’t have any legs. She moved around like a ghost.

The only way to go was down the corridor, so there she floated, but stopped a couple feet away from the light plastered on the rough red carpet, emitting from the small gap between the door and the wall.

There was something wrong. The light wasn’t bright, it was as if it were fading. A faulty lightbulb about to lose its last glint of hope, and fade into a black nothingness.

Bonnie didn’t want to miss the chance, and become stuck in a black hole. Cautiously, she moved and suddenly her hand was on the doors edge, and was pulling it back.

There. Her father. Laying down on the floor. White foam frothed from his mouth onto the cream tiles. Her right left finger twitched ever so slightly before not moving again.

She was bent over his face, staring at the greyness of his once flushed face.

Frozen, she didn’t move. Wondering when her father would get back up from his slumber. She waited, and waited, and waited, until the front door clicked open.

“Bonnie?” Her mother called.

The shriek from the woman would haunt her for the rest of her life. All love drained from the woman’s eyes and poured onto the floor in the form of hot tears.

“I told you to watch him! You stupid, stupid girl!”

Fast forward and Bonnie was now sitting at the round table between the kitchen and living room, wondering how she got there. Her mother on the other end with her hands clasped in front of her.

“How could you?” She asked, and Bonnie didn’t reply.

“We did everything for you but I ask you to do one single thing. Look after your father. And you failed! I think my life would have been better if I had just gotten rid of you!” The woman angrily yelled as she walked away from the table. All Bonnie could think about was her empty stomach, and what she would eat for the night.

Her father was only sleeping after all. Like he always did. He looked the very same. Drooling, eyes rolled back, a bottle in his hand. She didn’t understand why her mother was so angry at her.

Even at the funeral, which she now stood at, she didn’t understand. Why was everybody so serious?

“When’s he coming home?” She asked stupidly from beside her mother. There were only a few other people here. Work friends. No real ones.

“He’s not. He’s dead.”

Dead. Then all the pieces fell together. Had her father really died? Had she really let him? Being so stupid in thinking he was asleep but after all this time… he was dead?

“I’m sorry…” she began to cry watching the casket. “I’m sorry…

I’m sorry!” Breaching the surface of her nightmare, Bonnie gasped for air and frantically looked around the room. No funeral. No bathroom. No table. She was in the hospital waiting room.

“Hey, it’s ok! It’s ok.” Jennifer crouched down to her level. Beads of sweat dripped from Bonnies forehead and her eyes wide with confusion and hurt.

“I…” her throat was terribly dry. “I’m sorry…” she coughed. “Just a nightmare… nothing more.”

The woman sat down beside her. “If there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me. I know it’s hard being the new kid, but you’ve done really well here! I think of you as my little friend.” Jennifer smiled lovingly. “And I’ll always be here for you.”

Again, the kindness of this team always succeeded in shocking her.

“I’m okay… thanks JJ.” She rubbed her eyes and recomposed herself in her spot.

Then back into a slumber she fell.

It was a little after 4am when she awake again, this time feeling a lot better than the last time she woke. It took her a couple of seconds to even remember what she was doing here, until she spotted Jennifer passed out beside her.

Pulling herself up, she groaned at the cracking of her back and decided to stretch a little. Spencer had fallen asleep on the far end, Emily was on her phone while her foot tapped. Derek was still nowhere to be seen.

Very shortly after awaking and walking around the room a little bit, a nurse walked in with a pad of paper and read out, “for Penelope Garcia?” And quickly, Bonnie woke Jennifer and Emily bounced to her feet to wake Spencer. The four of them following the nurse to Penelope’s room where her eyes were slit open.

Jennifer took a seat closest to the bed and stroked Penelope’s hair out of her pale face. “Hey… how are you feeling?” And Spencer watched, his eyes full of sadness and despair for his friend lying in the hospital and Emily sat at the other side.

Penelope took a long breath. “Terrible…” and tears swelled in her eyes. “I thought he liked me.” And everybody began to think.

“You know the man that did this Penelope?” Emily asked from her side of the bed. Bonnie stood close to Jennifer’s side, studying Penelope’s condition.

She was hooked up to a heart monitor, needles pierced in his arms, and a cannula sticking out from her nose. Right now, the two of them should be laying peacefully asleep in Penelope’s apartment after she told her every detail about her dream man, watching Barbie movies on tape with tons of snacks, video calling Spencer, then prank calling him a bunch of times, then sugar crashing and not waking up until they’re almost late for work.

“Yeah… I went on a date with him tonight… Morgan was right, I never should have went.”

“No honey… you liked him!” Jennifer tried to comfort Penelope.

“You couldn’t have known.” Spencer said quietly.

“He’s a sick bastard.” Emily cursed.

“I… I can’t believe it y’know? A girl like me? No good looking guy like that would ever even look my way. I should have known something wasn’t right.”

Penelope’s pain transferred onto Bonnie. She couldn’t imagine how hurt the woman felt. In all truthfulness Penelope was amazing. Pretty, intelligent, funny, and all her quirks were what made her Penelope.

“I think you’re a wonderful woman Penelope. Way more than you think.” Her hand covered Penelope’s gently, not wanting to hurt the woman any more.

She really hoped Penelope knew how much she meant to Bonnie, so much that whenever she thought about the woman she would smile and laugh over her weird and funny ways, or sometimes cry wishing Penelope had been in her life from the start, or because she dreads the day that they part.

Everyone around agreed.

“Excuse me?” The same nurse walked in with her notepad. “Which one of you is Jennifer Jareau?”

Jennifer raised her hand.

“Penelope can be discharged tomorrow. For now, she should get lots and lots of rest. Same for at home.”

Jennifer gave Penelope’s shoulder a soft squeeze, Emily pecked her cheek, and Spencer bid a goodbye. But Bonnie hadn’t moved.

“You coming Bonnie?” Jennifer asked having stopped at the door.

“Can I stay?” Bonnie replies hopefully. “I’ll be quiet. I just… she can’t be alone right now.”

Of course Jennifer nodded.

So Bonnie got comfortable on the chair beside Penelope’s bed.

She wasn’t planning on talking at all, seeing how Penelope needed rest, but movement from the bed caught her attention and she looked up to see the woman looking back at her.

“Thank you for staying.” She had said in a weak whisper. Holding her hand out for Bonnie to take again, missing the warmth.

“I’ll always stay.” And their fingers intertwined.

—————————

The next day Derek returned, and picked the two girls up, Bonnie refusing to let go of Penelope while guiding her to the car.

“Garcia?” That deep voice of Derek Morgan echoed through the hallway leading to Penelope’s apartment after succeeding in scaling the stairs their friend had been shot on.“Jesus… Penelope I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay honey, you’re here now and that’s all I need.”

Bonnie had always admired the twos friendship. How they were so comfortable with each other and I afraid of rumours or criticism being thrown their way. They well and truly loved one another. It was beautiful.

To have someone like that was all she ever wanted, and then was suddenly gifted the light that was Penelope Garcia. Her coworker, her friend, her sister. Suddenly life didn’t seem so dark anymore.

“Baby girl, can you tell us anything about the man that did this?” Penelope sighed and tried to think.

“He just seemed so deliciously normal! There was nothing wrong about him…”

“Just think. Was there anything you thought was abnormal? Anything at all?”

Penelope closed her eyes and became lost in countless memories that she mustn’t have wanted to relive, before her face twisted and her hands trembled on her knees.

“He… wore his seatbelt behind his back.”

Something a policeman would do… in order to get out in a hurry.

“And… we sat at the very back of the restaurant though there were plenty other nice seats. And he made sure to look at the window.”

“I’m gonna call Hotch. The two of you stay there. I mean it.” Bonnie didn’t dare defy that specific authoritative voice of Derek ever. He was a very kind man who likes to joke around and make others laugh, so when he switched he meant business. Protecting people was his life, and he was damn well passionate about it. Bonnie had never been so scared in her life when she heard Derek yell for the first time at Sandy Parker.

After fluffing Penelope’s pillows and refusing the the woman’s persistence that she didn’t need to, Bonnie too relaxed on the plump pink couch while Derek stepped out to call the boss.

The pair were just beginning to feel safe when a bang went off outside and Penelope began to breath harder. Bonnie jumped from the couch and felt her eyes water and fingers tremble by her sides.

“Derek?!” She cried frightfully standing in front of Penelope when the man came barging back in.

“Get in the corner! Go now!” Bonnie grappled Penelope and they ran to the back of the apartment behind a wall. “Take this.”

Penelope cried, “I don’t believe in guns!”

“They are very real. Now if anyone comes through that door you shoot. Keep your arms straight!” Before he ran out of the apartment to where the girls couldn’t see him anymore and were left in a dark silence.

Every noise they heard they flinched. Peeking around the corner, Bonnie kept her eyes firmly on the front door, waiting for it to open and scream for Derek. Penelope and herself couldn’t possibly shoot someone!

More gun shots. They rumbled in Bonnies ears and Penelope suddenly stood forward saying, “get behind me.”

“What? No way!” Bonnie replied in a hushed whispered.

“Do as I say! I’m not letting you get hurt!” Just like Derek, Penelope too could demand things. As uncommon as it was, she had her moments that where normally full of love and passion. Penelope saw Bonnie as a kitten, something to be coddled, loved, and protected.

Bonnie couldn’t deny the sentiment and stood back a step. She didn’t have a gun anyways, it would be silly to be the girl in front.

Deafening silence once again and Bonnie hoped that Derek would be back soon. He could take down anyone! She almost felt pity on the unsubs that had to deal with the muscles on that guy.

When the door flew open Penelope emerged with the gun in her hands, shaking all over, as was Bonnie until she heard Derek speak.

The man was gone. For now. But Derek was here and the two would be safe.

——————————

The next day Agent Hotchner, Rossi, and Spencer arrived at the apartment. The entire complex was swarming with cops in uniform, every single one armed.

Derek unfortunately did have to go back to work, as did Bonnie…

When given the news she would be back in the bureau she could have handcuffed herself and Penelope to prevent it. But the woman was adamant she would be alright. Spencer was on Penelope duty today.

Back at the BAU, agent Hotchner had almost made Bonnie laugh before she realised he was serious after saying, “Bonnie, you look for clues.” Like she was on scooby doo or something.

“Garcia before we leave, I need access to your encrypted file.” All of Penelope’s colour seemed to drain from his face like dripping oil from a painting.

“Wh-why? That’s private sir.”

“I need to know because… Internal Affairs have deemed you a safety risk… the shooting, the file… I’m sorry but you’re being suspended.” From behind the closed door Bonnie pressed her ear against, she could hear everything.

“What? They can’t do that!” Bonnie worried.

“They can.” Agent Hotchner deadpanned. “Garcia I need the password if we’re to get passed this.”

And then a pause… before Penelope let up.

“I’ve been… counselling families for cases that haven’t been solved yet… I’m so sorry! I didn’t want any of this to happen. I just wanted to comfort them…” just in the same way that Penelope wished she had answers when she were younger.

“I know… but thank you Penelope. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

And Agent Hotchner took himself and Rossi back to the SUV. Leaving Spencer behind. And Bonnie who was lingering behind a bit to say her goodbye.

“I’ll be back tonight okay? And you’ll be alright, Spencer’s here.”

Penelope smiled softly, holding Bonnies gaze lovingly. “I know sweetheart. I’ll be waiting for you.” She knew how much the younger girl didn’t want to leave her. Penelope knew everything.

Everything.

Back at the BAU, Bonnie followed agent Hotchner and Rossi to the new tech analysis guy, Kevin, who surprisingly wasn’t struggling with Penelope’s crazy software. He cracked the file easily with the code and the four were met with eight different files.

“So, you think this guy is a cop right?” Rossi asked and Agent Hotchner nodded.

“Send these to Morgan and Prentiss, after that illicit affairs are here to talk to you. I’ll be in my office.” So while the files printed, Bonnie waited and the other agents left, leaving herself and Kevin in an awkward silence with only the buzzing of the printed every couple of seconds.

“So… what do you do?” He suddenly asked while Bonnie began to organise the cases.

“Assistant. File things, make coffee, talk to police officers sometimes, snoop around.” She talked while she worked. She wasn’t exactly great at conversation with a strange man in a dark room.

“Oh cool! And do you talk to Penelope a lot?” That question had her raising a brow.

“Yeah she’s my friend.” She stated it so proudly. A friend. At last. Though they had a bigger age gap than most friends, she loved Penelope all the same as she would a girl her own age.

She never had time to make friends. During school she was so busy trying to succeed and excel and skipping grades she threw socialising out of the window. The only friend she knew was the wobbly desk in her room where she’d sit for hours reading, writing, and doodling until the sun was gone.

That was until she became part of a team. A real one too.

“Cool.” Kevin nodded and arose after all files were printed.

Thank god. Bonnie didn’t think her joints could take much more tensing from the awkward meeting. He seemed decent enough. And it was brightly obvious he’s drawn to Penelope… which was even more awkward. Why just she be the first to hear!

Collecting two copies of each file, she began her journey to the main office.

It was quite a weight, all this paper. The pile wasn’t very well balanced either. The front and back of the files were too smooth, she was basically breaking her back trying to keep them from falling forward. But alas, her efforts failed her and they scattered all over the floor outside the office doors.

Cursing herself, she knelt down and began sorting them once again. While she did so, she took a peak through the glass doors and spotted Kevin again, using one of those computes instead of Penelope’s… who knew why. Two men standing behind him, watching him.

As easily as she’d watched them, another person had watched her embarrassingly drop her files, and out came Derek to the rescue as always.

“Butter fingers?” He asked laughing as he helped pick up the cases.

“Butter files!” She defened and he laughed harder.

“Whatever, call it what you want, you dropped them in the end you klutz.”

Derek meant, he always did! But Bonnie couldn’t help herself becoming frustrated at herself in the end. She strived for perfection. No mistakes, not even silly ones like dropping a heavy load of files that would. Not. Stay. Still. She hated it! Yeah right she was a klutz.

“Yeah kid, I’m just kidding. Chin up honey.” Derek tapped her chin and met her frown of a face with a grin. She formed a thin line with her lips and nodded collecting the rest of the files. And Derek left back to his desk taking the load off Bonnies hands and delivered the rest of Emily.

Having not much else to do, Bonnie decided to visit Agent Hotchner for another task, feeling unbearably impatient from all the waiting around behind done instead of catching Penelope’s shooter. But her curious feet landed her beside Kevin. She peered over his shoulder and he made eye anxiously made eye contact. Something in his gaze was afraid. But of what, she wasn’t sure. Beads of sweat coated his forehead and she cocked her head sideways. She’d come back to that, she thought.

“What’s taking so long?” One of the men behind them asked and she jumped. She must have hit a lightbulb on her way, she things started to click together.

She couldn’t be sure, of course not. But there was just a feeling. She suddenly felt just as nervous as Kevin as the man stared down at her. Her eyes instinctively landed on his gun which sat in its holder around his waist.

She drew back slowly, quickly taking her eyes off the man who’s jaw clenched. Without her knowledge however, the man’s gaze followed her closely as she began to hurry.

“Who’s that guy?” She asked once the door had closed.

“Detective James Battle.” He answered.

“We got a case?” Agent Hotchner shook his head.

“No… it’s because of Penelope’s snooping. He wants his files erased. That’s the head of Illicit Affairs, it’s out of our hands.”

She peeked back into the room from the blonde and squeaked when she saw the man staring right back at her.

“Why though? It can’t be hurting anyone for his names to be on the cases… sir don’t you find it suspicious?”

“I- hang on a moment.” His phone began to ring and Bonnie decided to exit, feeling to jittery to stand any longer.

Derek or Emily would know what to do, and that’s where she planned on heading.

——————————

“Oh my god… Reid that’s him!” Penelope gasped turning the computer around to show Spencer who was on the phone.

The two of them had been sent a code from Kevin, one that allowed them access to the security cameras in the bureau. And there he stood. Jason Clark Battle. The shooter. In the same room as their beloved team.

“What do we do?!” Penelope freaked.

“He’s a narcissist Garcia… if he knows we’re onto him he’ll go down shooting- yeah Hotch, that’s him… yeah we’re certain.”

Meanwhile Penelope was calling every contact in her book. “None of them are answering!” She cried desperately as she called Derek for the fourth time and Emily the third.

“Check the other cameras, someone has to be out there. Someone not in the room.”

So Penelope began to change through the cameras until she landed on Jennifer.

——————————

An arm around her neck cut Bonnies journey short. A gun to her head made her stay put and she wondered if anyone else could see what was going on or if it were just in her imagination.

It was a only a matter of seconds for the entire bau to draw their weapons. All pointed near her. She knew she hadn’t done anything, but couldn’t comprehend the situation at all. All common sense had spilled out of her ears.

“Jason, you’re surrounded, there’s no way out. Just let the girl go.” Agent Hotchner positioned himself in the middle of the room. His eyes firmly on the man behind Bonnie. If eyes could kill… she’d be free to go.

“Please… please let me go I’m just an assistant here… nothing special!” Bonnie begged but the man’s grip didn’t falter even an inch.

“She’s right.” Agent Hotchner continued and Bonnie stared at him with tear filled eyes. “If you want to go down in a blaze of glory, you should have picked someone else.” And felt her heart shatter like glass, piercing her insides.

“So you don’t care if I shoot her right now?” The man laughed manically.

“No.”

She felt the man’s grip hesitate, but tighten even worse than before. Choking her ever so slightly.

“Take a shot at me. Maybe you’ll earn something.” Agent Hotchner pressured, and held his arms out wide, his gun no longer pointed at the pair.

There was a silence. Not even breathing, besides Bonnies which was picking up and

“Yeah? We’ll see about that.” James laughed a deep sinister chuckle, and Bonnie felt the cold muzzle press against her temple.

Then a loud bang, and she fell to her knees.

Agent Hotchner was down first, picking her up. And she met him with bleary eyes, unable to stand for herself as her entire body trembled terribly.

“Did you mean that?” She managed to breath out, looking up at the agent.

“No.” And his strong arms held her close to his chest.

——————————

Jason was dead. The glass door behind them smashed completely. Jennifer on the other side still with her finger on the trigger of her gun.

Bonnie sat thankfully alive in Agent Hotchners office with her head in her hands while he sat behind his desk.

“If you want to take some time off after that I’m more than happy to give you whatever you need.”

Her face slowly lifted and was looking ghostly pale. “No thanks. I’ll be in tomorrow same time.”

He didn’t look too pleased with that.

“Are you sure? Because almost being shot is quite a traumatic experience.”

“I can take it.” She muffled in her hands. Feeling absolutely numb to the bone.

The agent sighed, leaning back in his chair. There was something on his mind, the way he looked over at Bonnie with a concerned shadow in his eyes.

“Bonnie.” She looked back up from having stared at her shoes.

“You’re much more than an assistant to us. You know that right?” The comment took her aback for a second. How could that even be possible? She was an assistant. A helping hand. She wasn’t a team member as such, but was definitely present at times with coffee cups and her two cents.

When she didn’t answer Agent Hotchner continued.

“You mean a lot to us. You’ve been here five months now. We wouldn’t- we couldn’t have it any other way.” He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, by came up dry.

“I know.” She finally sat up right. She had friends here. Derek was great, like a big brother who bossed her around but would play games with her. Emily was such a good spirit, always laughing at her corny jokes and asking for more. Jennifer was so kind and motherly that Bonnie wished she could see her face everyday just to make things brighter. Spencer was perfect, she loved the fact she’d tell and encourage him to talk until his hands would flap. Rossi still scared her… but the meals he’d give her helped her more than he knew. And Penelope… she saved her life more than she knew.

Agent Hotchner however… was a tricky one. She didn’t know much about him at all. But always felt pushed towards him. She liked being around him. She likes to tell him about the things she learned in criminal justice and he’d sit back and listen, chiming in every so often.

She knew the likes and dislikes of the team so she could cheer a sad face and prevent one. What she didn’t know however, was how everyone else did the same for her, every day.

“You still staying with Penelope?” He asked and she shook her head to the floor.

“No I’m just gonna go home… I don’t feel like it anymore.” In all honesty she would love to curl up in Penelope’s bed and rest until the day was over, but she has the urge to isolate. When the times got tough, being alone and soaking in it was somehow her answer.

“Really? Surely you don’t want to be alone after that? Penelope will be expecting you, I think you’d have a good time.” She didn’t really focus on much of that sentence besides one part…

“Alone? How do you know if be alone?” Accidentally coming off a bit defensive. It was a bad habit. Her home life was her secret. A sacred one that only Penelope had figured out.

Agent Hotchner grew silent and she watched as his stone face returned after displaying worry, and she emitted a loud sigh at the realisation.

“Bonnie I’m a profiler. The unit chief. I’m not telling you how I know.” But her frustration had grown too hot to be contained.

“I want you to tell me. I deserve to know!”

Agent Hotchner fought himself. He knew for a fact it would make Bonnie feel worse, about over time he hoped she would accept it.

“Your blazer is crinkled in some places specifically around the neck and cuffs, no one taught you how to iron properly. You eat everything in sight here and take snacks home with you, that gave me the impression you don’t eat much at home. And the stays at Penelope’s every so often. That’s when your mother leaves you for days on end, sometimes weeks. And I know that because of your repeated outfits. I can tell when you’ve been to Penelope’s because she pleats your hair. I suppose you don’t know how to do it and your mother never learned for you.” By the end her face was scorching red. Tears very different from earlier filled her eyes and she has to take a deep breath, refusing to admit weakness in front of Agent Hotchner.

“And… the makeup you wear can vary from a little too a lot within a days difference. Now if there’s anything you would like to get out to me, go ahead, I’m listening Bonnie.”

But her throat had been closed up with a bubble she wouldn’t pop. How could he just READ her like that. Everything she thought could be kept to herself had been stated so clearly out in open that she felt like she had been slapped across the face.

“No sir… I think you got the gist of it.” She mumbled defeated and embarrassed, arising from her seat and lifting her old bag, wincing at how he was profiling her to be a poor old cat living on the streets or something.

“See you tomorrow.” She forced a twitch of her lips that hurt her face and went for the door.

“Get some good rest… at Penelope’s.” She turned back to argue, but saw agent Hotchner smiling very faintly, and couldn’t.

#criminal minds #thesiriusmoon bonnie cm #thesiriusmoon writes cm #spencer reid #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

5 notes · View notes

theteasetwrites · 1 year

Text

Well I just watched episode 23. Here are my thoughts. 🥲

Spoilers for TWD season 11 episode 23. Don’t read if you haven’t watched it because some shit goes down.

Love that they’re all heading for commonwealth to fuck shit up

Ok I am actually pissed tf off about Daryl letting Judith come with them. Daryl she’s like 11 years old. Idc how “tough” she is, she should not be allowed to fight in a literal warzone where there are automatic rifles being shot at your people. I absolutely HATE how they’ve written Daryl to allow that. They’re making him make such a stupid ass decision that I feel like he would never make (another OOC moment because the writers don’t know Daryl as a character anymore). Daryl makes stupid decisions sometimes, but this is beyond stupid. Daryl, I know you would be a better parent than that and yet they’ve written you like you have the common sense of a potato

Also Judith begging to go with them all the time is so annoying to me like girl you are a literal child know your place read the room and stop trying to be an adult it’s just annoying at this point we get it your parents were Rick and Michonne pls shut up about it🙄

Hi when am I supposed to start caring about Annie or her and Negan’s stupid unborn baby I think I missed the memo

NOT LYDIA. NOT LYDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I gasped. When I tell you I sat up in my bed at 3am and GASPED. I love Lydia so much. But at least it was just her arm and Aaron was with her and helped amputate, but still. Also when Aaron said “you are so loved Lydia” 🥹 I love this man so much you don’t understand he is actually the best character right next to Daryl don’t @ me I’m right also I cared more about Lydia than I did Judith in this ep 🫣

I hope Elijah and Jerry make it in the herd, but tbh I am not going to get my hopes up because they are both fair game at this point unfortunately 😔 who is going to take care of Jerry’s 20 kids

I love that Mercer is helping them out now! He really is a great character I think. It’s just so frustrating that he got snitched on but you know what they say about snitches

Ezekiel pls you don’t have to be nice to Negan it’s ok (I love him for that tho, we stan a bigger person) also if they kill Ezekiel I will stab someone anyway

I really really hope Rosita finds her baby. I wonder why Coco wasn’t at Alexandria like the other kids??

Connie is so sweet to that guy idk his name but you know. That guy. Too bad he DIES

Oh yeah and Judith gets shot. Um so I am not a big Judith fan at all so like obviously I am slightly sad but also… I mostly just care about how Daryl is going to deal with it because he is totally going to blame himself (as he should bc WHAT DID YOU THINK WOULD HAPPEN BESTIE 😭). Daryl has lost so many people and he always blames himself for it and idk it just really bothers me that they’re doing this to him AGAIN like let my man have ONE DAY where someone’s death isn’t indirectly his fault and/or affects him greatly. We don’t even know if Judith is gonna die but yeah it’s not looking good. I mean they’re not going to get great medical care in the middle of a full-blown war AND a walker attack (with the advanced updated DLC version of walkers thrown in too)

I honestly don’t care that much if Judith dies but I also don’t want Daryl to have to deal with that because DAMN he is going to be devastated he has lost so much man it’s really not fair. I think he has suffered more than any character on this show and I don’t think it is controversial to say that because just considering the sheer amount of shit he has dealt with and seen is insane. I would say he is going to need therapy after this but apocalypse 😔

But also Daryl you dumb bitch lol ofc this was going to happen you should have never let a CHILD into a WARZONE you big himbo

I’d still give him a blowjob tho he’s gonna need one after this

Anyway

Also Pamela suck the fattest cock you are such an asshole I hate you and I can’t wait to watch you die I hope Daryl kills you too 😘

Ok that’s all I think?? Idk this episode was a whirlwind. I am scared for the next one (esp since Daryl is laying on the ground?!?! HELP)

#twd spoilers #TWD season 11 #the walking dead

11 notes · View notes

legless-fish-on-rollerskates · 3 years

Text

All the morons trying to claim that Dean wasn't saying anything to Cas because he was holding back slurs or something equally ridiculous... what show have you been watching? Surely not Supernatural. Like, yeah, Dean had some internalized shit for a while (mostly cause of how he was raised, let's be real), but this isn't season fucking one. Dean's in his goddamn forties now guys.

But you still think Dean Winchester is homophobic? Let's examine the evidence then, shall we?

1. Aaron Bass: Dean was flustered because he's not used to being hit on by dudes, but he was completely respectful. And he was alone, too. It wasn't like he was trying to "hide his homophobia" from Sam. He could've said whatever he wanted in that moment without anyone ever knowing, and he chose to awkwardly walk backward and wish Aaron a nice day. Then later, when they're working with him, Dean says nothing about it (other than a quick "he was my gay thing" to Sam), doesn't make it weird, and talks to him exactly the same way he would talk to anyone else.

2. Jesse and Ceasar: Dean's surprised when he realizes that they're married, again because he's not really used to it and so he made the wrong assumptions (which I will point out is really really normal, it happens all the time even between queer people, because heteronormativity is very much a thing in real life). But what does he do when he finds out? He asks them about their marriage - with genuine curiosity. What's it like to be in a relationship with a hunter, is it hard, all that jazz. Never asks about the fact that they're both men, none of those gross "so who's the woman" questions, literally just. Talking to two married hunters. That's it. Then later, when they're working, he never once questions their capability as hunters or suggests that they're weak in any way. There's no "you're less 'manly' because you're gay" mindset at all. And at the end of the episode he's genuinely happy for them, two hunters who managed to get out of the life and retire together.

There's lots of other examples (several male cops have been obviously into him over the years, his reaction to Jody talking about Claire and Kaia, all the subtext surrounding Lee, etc.) but for my last one for now, let's not forget...

3. Charlie fucking Bradbury: Arguably Dean's best friend besides Cas (no I haven't forgotten about Benny, I love Benny, but he was part of a very specific chapter of Dean's life and that chapter is done). We've known she was a lesbian from the get-go, and Dean takes it in stride when he finds out, immediately improvising to coach her through some painfully awkward flirting so she can get into the office ("you've just come home, and Scarlett Johansson is waiting for you"). And yes, there's the whole "I feel dirty" "yeah so do I" bit there, but that's clearly established as a joke, plus the guy was gross - as someone who is attracted to both women and men, I would feel dirty after flirting with him too.

The next few times we see Charlie, she and Dean are geeks and dweebs together, Dean is having more fun than we've seen in years, and we see him be a really good friend - in some ways, a better friend than he is to Cas. Charlie talks to him a little bit about girls, they LARP, they go shopping together, Dean comforts her when she has to let go of her mom. When she's killed, he gets so upset he goes on a murderous rampage (maybe not the most healthy way to deal with greif, but nonetheless showing how much she mattered to him). When he sees an alternate version of her in trouble he's immediately ready to risk his own life to help her even though she doesn't know him. He loved her like a sister, and he never once expressed any issues with her sexuality.

So let's go back to Cas. Cas is in love with Dean. Not much of a surprise there, he's said it before. But this is the first time Dean understands that that's what he's saying. It makes sense that he's a little stunned, especially considering that Cas is also saying that he's about to die. I mean, if your best friend of twelve years told you one day that they've been in love with you all along, that just knowing you has irrevocably changed them for the better, and that also by the way telling you this means they're going to die, mightn't you be rendered a tad speechless?

Dean does not hate Cas for this. Not at all. Because whether or not Dean is bi, whether or not he reciprocates, Cas is still his best friend. We've seen how hard Dean grieves every time Cas dies. We know how much Cas matters to him. Of all the shit they've put each other through, there's absolutely no logical reason for this to be the thing that damages their friendship beyond repair. Not after everything. No fucking way.

Dean says nothing because he doesn't know what to say, because he's still processing Cas's confession but also already grieving and blaming himself for Cas's death. The way he breaks down at the very end of the episode? That's not a man who's disgusted. That's a man who's shattered.

How dare you try to simplify this incredibly complex and emotional moment into Dean being a dick. How dare you. It's positively insulting. The entire point of Cas's speech was that Dean is so much more than that. If you can't see that, than I'm sorry, but you're missing the whole message of the show.

Supernatural is about family and sacrifice. It's about free will, making your own choices. And it's about being more than just who you're supposed to be, going beyond what other people want or assume. All the depth beneath the surface. That's the show. That's why we're still watching after all this time. Because it means something important. Something relevant. Something real.

Don't you fucking discredit that.

(thank you for coming to my TED talk)

2K notes · View notes

codename-adler · 3 years

Text

Death of Heroes

Because not even Neil can outrun the ephemerality of men.

Renee is the first one to go.

Nearing sixty but never reaching it, she is outlived by Abby and Wymack. At least Stephanie Walker is waiting for her at the gates of Heaven, but for the rest of her Foxes, the loss is heavy.

It’s cancer. Leukemia.

It started with the bruises from her sparring matches with Andrew not healing very well. Then not at all. After decades of maintaining these monthly meetings, of keeping her body healthy, Renee finally has to give it up. She knows something is wrong, and she knows that these sessions won’t be of any help, now.

Then the extreme fatigue starts. Still, Renee doesn’t do a thing about it. Or at least, she lets life go its own course. She looses weight, which she already doesn’t have much of. But then the nosebleeds begin, and it’s no use telling Allison to stop worrying. The diagnosis is unsurprising, yet still shattering. And it’s not a good prognosis either, but it’s still not bad enough for the doctor to give up the Five-Year survival plan.

Renee has to speak up. Ally, I don’t want to do this. She has to put her foot down. Allison, my love, it’ll be okay. I won’t get better, you and I both know that. But it can be okay. It can still be good.

Renee doesn’t get treatment. Renee doesn’t tell anybody, except Andrew. Because Andrew knows, somehow, that she made a terrible, irreversible choice. Because Andrew only deals in truths. Because Andrew is Andrew, and just as he needed her all those years ago, she needs him now.

A little more than six months pass, with less and less outings from Renee and more and more excuses from Allison, and Renee gets sick. Really sick. It starts like a regular cold. Then it looks more like the flu. And suddenly it’s pneumonia, and respiratory difficulties, and lung failure. She’s in that hospital bed, wearing that gown, breathing in that mask. Renee finally nods to Allison, giving her consent.

Ally makes the call.

Only Andrew and Dan make it in time.

Renee Walker goes out like a light.

The Foxes, who had once upon a time been used to murders, life-threatening schemes and acts of extreme violence, had never really known Death itself. The simple, yet inevitable fate of human lives. Of going quietly into the night. It’s all so quiet. So anticlimactic. It’s so quiet, too quiet, too heavy with silence. This time, there is no one to blame, no one to punish, no one to take responsibility.

It’s just life. It’s just death.

Wymack and Abby can’t believe that one of their Foxes, on of their kids, left before them. Renee’s Korean roots made her look barely a day over forty, which made it all so much worse. Renee’s death takes a toll on every single one of them. Because it’s Renee, the best of them. Because all her papers are in orders, her will to date, her wishes known; just as when she was alive, she leaves no chaos behind her.

There is nothing and no one to be mad at, except life.

In the cemetery where Stephanie Walker is buried, Andrew buys a large lot of land. (Large enough to one day welcome all the Foxes) The tomb is moved over there, and Renee’s name is added. A tree is planted above her scattered ashes. It’s very small, very fragile, but with the years, it grows strong.

For the first time, the Foxes realize that, despite going through Hell and back in their youth, they are not immortal. There is nothing to be done about that, but it hurts. It hurts to lose their angel this way, so soon, so suddenly. It hurts to lose, period. It feels like a failure, like giving up. They lost her. They lost.

But somehow, they gained something else they might never know about. Renee might have been the only religious one among them, but that didn’t stop her from becoming their Guardian Angel. Because somehow, from then on, the Foxes were spared.

Let me show you.

Just as Bee had a few years before Renee, Abby, then Wymack, simply die in their sleep, no fight, no agony. None of them have to see another Fox go before them. They don’t have to go through that indescribable ordeal ever again. They are spared the pain.

Then decades pass, enough for the remaining Foxes to grow very old, and live very long. Not infinitely, but long enough.

Matt is the next one to go.

Matt has worked hard all his life, both mentally and physically. It comes to no surprise, then, that arthritis chose to invade his body. For the first few years living with the diagnosis, natural medicine and osteopathy are enough to keep the pain at bay. It doesn’t stop Matt from doing anything. He babysits his 9 grandchildren with Dan every week; he goes on roadtrips with Dan every summer; he goes on a light jog with Dan every day.

It’s just that one day, it’s not enough anymore. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the pain becomes too much for Matt to do his day-to-day activities. And really, the pain, he could take; it was an old friend, a familiar feeling, almost like a sixth sense.

It was the mental toll of it all that he couldn’t take. To have to say no to seeing his grandchildren. No to driving around endlessly and aimlessly for hours. No to waking up in sync with Dan every morning, and no to their routine, and no, and no, and just- not living.

For the first time in a long time, Matt doesn’t want to do this anymore.

But he does, still. He smiles, and he lies, and he tries to will away the pain.

It all comes down to one afternoon, when he takes his painful walk of the day around the neighborhood. There are three little kids playing Exy in their driveway, when suddenly a ball escapes their racquets and rolls down in the street. The smallest kid runs after it, runs and runs and runs, without looking. Kind of like Neil, Matt thinks to himself before his body acts of his own. The kid doesn’t see the car, and the car doesn’t see the kid. Matt sees both.

The BMW is going way over the limit, its sleek black sides reflecting the sun too brightly. Despite his pain, despite his age, despite his now slow reflexes, Matt leaps. He screams at the kid to stop and turn around, to let the ball roll away, but to no avail.

Matt pushes the kid away in time for the car to hit him instead, and only him.

The rest becomes a blur, but the final verdict is as such: broken hip, shattered leg, probably won’t walk ever again, even with surgery. The doctors and surgeons warn Matt that with his age, his pre-existing condition, and his drug history, surgery might kill him. But Matt refuses to be bedridden for the rest of his already miserable life. Dan knows that. She knows that he has to try. Knows that he might not pull through. She also knows that Matt wants to go, has wanted to for a while now.

She calls Neil. She calls Allison. From there, all the Foxes are bound to get the news. Matt promises to wait until their arrival before going into surgery. In the meantime, the nurses start a morphine line, after warning the couple very strongly about the side effects and the risks. But Matt is in pain, terrible pain, and it’s a compromise to wait for his Foxes. It takes about a week for all of them to come to his bedside, with Nicky being last, coming all the way from Germany. Neil and Allison barely leave his room; Dan doesn’t at all. The others take turns, leaving as much space for Matt’s kids and grandkids as their hearts can allow.

The open spot for Matt’s surgery is on a Friday.

Matt Boyd does not make it to Friday.

The morphine is too heavy on his heart. It was a possible outcome, not as alarming as the upcoming surgery, but... Matt had secretely wished to go ever since and- maybe, up there in Heaven, someone heard him...

Dan and Matt had had a mutual understanding, that it was okay, but it doesn’t make it any more easy to let go.

Two months into Matt’s departure, Allison moves in with Dan. She walks her through every stage of grief. She grieves all over again herself, too. But they make it.

Same goes for Andrew with Neil. Neil doesn’t know loss like this. Death like this.

And yet. And yet. Deep, deep down, Neil is scared. That after all his years of running, and fighting, and lying, he won’t get that peaceful ending Matt was granted.

But Neil lives.

And Nicky leaves.

A few months after Matt, he and Erik simply stay in the States. They say it’s because they want to be close, because they don’t want to miss anything, because they don’t want to risk a Fox leaving without a chance at saying goodbye. Because Nicky misses his Aaron and his Andrew.

Which are all valid and true motives. It’s just not the whole truth.

Nicky has dementia. Alzheimer’s, to be precise. Diagnosed about a year ago. It’s not bad yet, but- It’s the endless back-and-forth between the house and “der Supermarkt” because Nicky forgot what he drove there for in the first place. It’s forgetting words in all the languages Nicky speaks. It’s freaking out at all the Germans speaking German, because Nicky sometimes believe he is still living in America. It’s not finding the Columbia house and panicking when Nicky can’t get a hold of Andrew or Aaron.

It’s hard, it’s heartbreaking, it’s terrifying, but it’s manageable.

Once Nicky and Erik settle back down in North Carolina, they both wonder how long it’ll take before the twins figure it out, because there is no way Nicky is telling them, but he also knows nothing can get past his twins.

And he’s right. Between Aaron’s acute knowledge of Medicine and Andrew’s reknown lie-detector skills, it takes about 14 days for them to take Nicky hostage and demand the truth.

As the year comes to an end, Nicky’s dementia doesn’t seem to progress that much. He seems to escape the worst. He doesn’t forget anyone. He doesn’t become aggressive, doesn’t go missing, doesn’t lose any function of his body. Without looking too closely, Nicky is simply getting old.

The twin girls he and Erik adopted get to move back in for a little while, having lived in the U.S. all their lives and seeing their parents fly to Germany after their retirement. They know, too, and try to make the most of it. They are lucky. They are so lucky. Nicky is a miracle patient.

In the end, though, it’s Nicky’s body rather than his mind that gives out. Once you reach a certain point in time living with the disease, but without the general complications of it, eventually the brain has trouble managing all the organs of the body. So instead of forgetting to eat, or forgetting names and faces, sometimes your brain doesn’t remember how to make your heart beat. Or how to make make your lungs breathe.

Nicky Hemmick stops breathing in the middle of the night, after having wished his twin daughters goodnight, texted his other set of twins goodnight, and kissed his husband goodnight. Nicky had thought, then, that it was indeed, a good night.

Just as he had remembered his Foxes until the end, he was remembered by them as the big-hearted lover that Heaven had just gained as its new angel.

Too soon after him, though, it’s Allison’s turn.

It’s not that she’d simply been waiting around for the day she could be reunited with Renee. She just didn’t understand why her Foxes kept leaving, and why she was still stuck here without her other half.

She didn’t just wait, though. She helps Dan out with the grandkids, and sometimes the grown-up kids too. She volunteers a lot. She gives back to the Columbia community, and all around the world. She travels to places she’s never been, places that remind her of Renee, but are void of painful memories. She empties their bucket list, and much more. The last thing Allison has yet to do, the only thing left to do, is mending her relationship with her parents. Or parent. Singular. In spite of everything, including the death of her husband, Francesca Reynolds was still standing strong at the head of the Reynolds empire. 100 years old was nothing when you lived in spite.

In a twisted way, Allison believed that maybe her mother was the last piece she needed to mend before she was allowed to go. That despite being gone for years, Renee was still there somewhere, looking out for her and making sure she didn’t have any regrets.

So Allison accomplished the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the impossible. For the first time in decades, she flew back to the Reynolds estate and spoke to her mother. In person.

It was not the emotional reunion Renee might have hoped for, but it was a reunion still. That was more than enough for Allison. They didn’t talk about the big things. The important things. But they talked. They talked. And they scheduled another talk.

Back home with Dan, Allison embraced her friend and let the tears fall. She was grateful for her friend, but both of them knew that these were not the arms Allison wished to be held in. She went to rest a bit before dinner, and she tried to imagine how it would feel like to have Renee hold her again.

For someone as loud, as present and as strong as she was, Allison Walker slipped quietly from time.

When Dan found her, she could only smile tearfully. She played with her hair one last time as she called her Foxes.

Allison left Dan in charge of her finances, and so she took over her charity duties and went above and beyond to honor her friend’s memory. Her sister.

Dan thought she would be next. She wished, she hoped, she prayed to be next.

She wasn’t.

Kevin was.

He might have been the biggest and hardest loss to weather. It wasn’t a feeling that could be explained. As painful as it had been to lose Renee, and Matt, and Nicky, and Allison, losing Kevin was... the great and terrible 10, as they’d say.

Kevin should have died way sooner. His liver should have given out because of all the alcohol it had endured in Kevin’s youth. His heart should have given out because of all the stress it had faced for most of Kevin’s life. All the bad things that could happen with old age should have happened to Kevin, but they didn’t. They didn’t.

Death came knocking one day, and politely asked him if he would please follow them, and Kevin simply took it as a sign that his time was up.

That day, Kevin had felt a numbing pain in his chest all morning long. Used to little injuries here and there, he hadn’t thought anything of it. And he certainly wasn’t about to worry his doctor of a husband...

However, as the sun reached it’s highest in the sky, Kevin couldn’t really hide his pain any longer. He had lain down on their couch for a bit, but he couldn’t seem to get back up. It was too exhausting. So he called for Aaron, as loud as he could in the state he was.

As Aaron stumbled into the living room, Kevin tried to use his softest voice to inform his husband of the situation. Aaron immediately called an ambulance, and when the vehicle took them both away, he reached for his phone again to make, once again, a terrible call to their Foxes. But through his oxygen mask, Kevin reached out to grap his wrist and whispered, with difficulty, just Neil... just Andrew...

Because here’s the thing: Kevin loved his Foxes, and his Foxes loved him back. Immensely.

He loved them so much he had married one, with another one of them as best man (Neil), another as his husband’s (Andrew), and yet another one as their celebrant (Renee).

They loved him so much that it was only short of worship by a hair or two. And Kevin knew that. He loved Dan like a sister. And by extension, he loved Erik like a brother, too. And he loved all the Foxes’ children and grandchildren like his own, despite never being a parent himself.

But Neil and Andrew... There were no words for what they were to him. He knew that he wouldn’t have to talk them through it. He knew they would be the only ones strong enough and close enough to hold Aaron up in case it all turned to shit the moment he passed the hospital doors.

And being the History nerd he had always been, Kevin had written letters, a long time ago. To his Foxes. Most of them had left before him, and so he could never give them their letters, but Dan, and Erik for Nicky, could still have those letters. Kevin poured everything into these letters. It had taken him years, ever since Renee’s departure. He wrote, and threw away, and started again, until he got it right. Nine letters, for his nine Foxes. Andrew knew about it. He’d give Nicky’s and the upperclassmen’s to Dan and Erik, and they’d understand. Kevin didn’t want them to be there, at the very end of it all. He just wanted Aaron. And Neil. And Andrew.

Those three had letters waiting for them, too. Andrew would hand them over a month later. But he would never open his.

Andrew and Neil arrived just before 1 PM. Kevin was hooked on all sorts of IVs and still had the oxygen mask on. His heart monitor was beeping very, very slowly, erratically. He was still Kevin Day in all his gloriousness, but he was much more Kevin, their beloved Kevin.

On one side of the hospital bed, Aaron never let go of Kevin’s hand. On the other side, Kevin removed the mask and weakly motioned for Neil to take the other hand. But Neil was stunned. Frozen. So Andrew came up behind him, and held Kevin’s hand.

It would be the first, and the last time.

Just as Neil finally sprung into action and went to put a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, feeling his wiry muscles and his fragile bones underneath the hospital gown, Kevin closed his eyes.

The heart monitor began flatlining.

Neil looked at the monitor, then to Kevin. He looked at Andrew, then back at Kevin, and then at Aaron. His eyes couldn’t stay focused on one thing. He was still hoping. He was still refusing.

Aaron lowered his head. Kissed Kevin’s hand.

Andrew held on tighter to Kevin’s other hand. Gripped the back of Neil’s neck.

Kevin took Death’s hand, which felt a lot like Aaron’s, and Andrew’s, and Renee’s, and walked away.

Aaron unplugged the monitor. And called it.

Time of death: 13:01.

It took exaclty one month, day for day, for Aaron to leave as well. They called it the Broken Heart Syndrome. On the surface, Aaron had held it together. But Andrew knew. He saw. That he was losing him as well.

Some could say that, by handing over Kevin’s letter, Andrew killed his brother. But those who would say that didn’t even begin to understand the complexity of the bond between twin brothers. Especially not the Minyards.

Because what Andrew really did, with that letter, was gifting Aaron with relief.

Peace. Quiet.

Love.

Aaron could exhale, now. He would see Kevin soon, now.

And so in the same room, in the same bed as his husband’s, Aaron Minyard forced Death’s hand and demanded to see Kevin again.

And then there were three.

Dan lived for so long that she started to fear outliving her children. She felt old, so old. In her head and in her heart. She did not believe in a God, but she often found herself praying to someone, anyone. She did not believe in angels and demons, but she often wondered how long they would keep her from Death.

So she waited. For the days to go and the nights to pass. She barely ate anymore. She barely moved. She was only feeling okay when she slept outside, in her chair in the backyard, the sun shinning on her beautiful face. She could sleep for hours there, surrounded by her lively garden. The wind swayed her skirts, the trees whispered in her ears. It was okay.

And at the same time, it wasn’t.

She was tired. She was lonely. Even Erik, a couple of years ago, had gone to rejoin his husband. Neil visited her at least once a week, but he still had Andrew. He couldn’t understand, nor could he stay away from him for too long. He would miss him too much.

Every year she celebrated another birthday, and every year she blew her candles wishing they were her last.

And at last, her wish came true.

Dan was expecting one of her kids to come by in the afternoon. The Carolina sun was shinning quite hard on her, so she had placed her chair in way that let the sunlight hit the back of her head, turned away completely from her house. Her daughter knew exactly where to find her when she arrived, and so she didn’t wait for a response to her presence before making her way down into the garden. She had called her mother multiple times, and had assumed she was sleeping when she hadn’t answered.

Dan was not sleeping.

Dan Wilds had left this world, the sunlight pouring down on her like the radiant goddess that she was.

Being one of the last Foxes, it took a day before Neil and Andrew got the news of her death. They don’t get involved in the funeral preparations, but they show up. And that’s enough.

People don’t really bother them anymore, so they can bid farewell to their Captain in relative peace. They come by Dan’s house aftwerwards, too, and help her kids out with everything. Yes, even Andrew.

Dan’s death makes them reflect the most.

About the Foxes. About each of their departures. How they all lived a good and long life. How they all died a good and quiet death.

They think about how they were always the ones nearing death, always fighting to stay alive. About how they died a million deaths before the age of 18.

They think about how they are the last ones standing, even after everything.

They survived. They lived.

(They loved)

Neil and Andrew should not have gotten this far. They should not have lived this long. They shouldn’t have. But somehow, somewhere above, someone has watched over them and made sure that they didn’t get the ending they should’ve had, but the ending they deserved.

Neil and Andrew don’t really want to die. They don’t really want to live on either. But they take every day that they are given, to be with each other, to mend their hearts still, to breathe.

They take every breath they can.

They wonder who will leave first. Who will have to say goodbye and stay behind, who will have to wait.

It’s a fear neither of them had ever thought they’d have. Not like that.

And it’s only a matter of time before they get their answer. They are, after all, getting very old. It is both a blessing and a curse.

After decades of partnership, Neil and Andrew still go to bed the same way they did when they were eighteen. Both facing each other, their hands joined in the middle, their nose a breath apart.

After decades of peace, Neil and Andrew still wake from sleep at the slightest abnormality.

Which is why the minute Neil Josten gives out his last breath, Andrew awakes.

Neil’s hand in his is still warm and his skin is still soft. His hair, although completely white for quite some years now, still have that bronze glow to them. They’re still curly, and soft to the touch. Andrew passes a hand through them before resting it on the back of Neil’s neck.

He looks at Neil like it’s the first time, tries to memorize every detail of his beautiful face. He rubs circle in his skin, and takes in everything that was, that is Neil. His husband. His junkie. His rabbit. His pipedream. His lover. His love.

Andrew doesn’t move from their bed.

When he has finally spoken everything that he feels to Neil, from the safety of his mind, Andrew moves closer to him so their foreheads touch and noses align. He takes Neil’s lifeless hand again, and kisses it. He sets their hands back down, between the two of them, and looks at Neil one last time.

And slowly, Andrew Minyard closes his eyes, forever.

466 notes · View notes

kevindayscrown · 3 years

Text

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Part 11

Weight

[TW: Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Alcohol, Mentions of Violence, Riko Moriyama]

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Head over to the directory to find the previous parts.

The winter holidays were a nightmare.

Maybe Kevin had the tendency to exaggerate things. Though, who could really blame him?

The Foxes – before they all departed for their holiday destinations – were approaching Kevin in extremes. Either as if he was a wild, caged animal ready to snap at everyone, or as if messing with him was the highlight of their day.

“If you miss him so much, call him,” Nicky had said, ever so casually.

The thing was, that Kevin knew he had messed everything up. There was no chance he was going to call or text Eric after what had happened during the winter banquet.

Partially because he thought Eric wanted nothing to do with him.

Another part of him, of course, simply wanted to punish himself. He had something in his grasp, something other than Exy, and he let it go, just like that.

If no one would bat an eyelash at Andrew and Neil, or at Jean and Jeremy, maybe Kevin could for once, do something for himself.

Disgusting.

Even after his death, Riko’s ghost would not let Kevin be happy. It was all so much, that he hardly thought he had the spine to actually call and apologize to Eric on his own volition.

Coward.

Kevin just knew Christmas would not be pleasant. It should be; it was the first Christmas when he was really free.

It didn’t really feel like that.

He’d thought that perhaps going to Columbia with Andrew, Neil and Aaron would help him forget.

Alcohol would help.

Apparently, however, those plans were ruined too, when Wymack told Kevin it would be a good idea for them to spend Christmas together.

“Abby said it- it might be a good idea. We have a lot to talk about,” Wymack had said, the night before they were to leave for Columbia. “The Foxes will be gone. We will have some fucking peace and quiet.”

Kevin knew he couldn’t say no. He’d kept the truth from Wymack for so long.

Selfish.

Kevin had agreed. He didn’t wake up as Andrew and Neil left; Aaron apparently, had arranged to retreat somewhere with Katelyn.

The dorm room was empty. It was unusual. The quiet was unsettling. No matter how much Kevin wouldn’t admit it, the voices, the bodies moving to an everyday routine, helped him focus.

Thankfully, Wymack had arrived early to pick him up from the dorms. They wouldn’t do anything special; just spend the holidays at the Coach’s apartment.

The first days were calm. Due to the awkwardness however, no talking was done. Not the kind of talking Wymack had implied at first, at least. The two men simply coexisted. The quiet became deafening in Kevin’s ears. Nights were the worst.

His fingers itched to be wrapped around the neck of a bottle. He didn’t like the way his thoughts – intrusive, nasty things – would fill in the silence when he was sober.

Relapsing however, would be yet another sign of cowardice. Kevin hadn’t drunk in months. He hadn’t felt like he needed it. The high of their victory, the busy start of the semester, training the new recruits, had all distracted him from the aftermath of everything that had happened in the span of a year.

Facing an identity crisis was not exactly what he needed.

Not when he blinked and saw Riko’s face during the night. Heard Jean’s screaming.

Christmas Eve was when it all reached its peak.

Homosexuality is disgusting, Kevin. Aren’t you happy you have Thea? Oh, don’t think I’ve not seen you sneak out at night to meet her. That’s why you will always be number two. You are so vulnerable.

Riko’s knife felt way too real, even as Kevin’s eyes snapped open and he jolted up from the couch. The lump in his throat and the tightness in his chest were definitely real.

“Kevin?”

Kevin had not realized that he had been screaming until he saw Wymack standing there, until he tried to speak but his voice was too hoarse.

“I- I-,”

Vulnerable.

He hadn’t had a panic attack in months. Almost half a year. He was aware it was happening at that moment, but he was too numb from shock to do any of the exercises Bee had shown him.

From shock or from the shortness of breath.

“Breathe with me, Day.” He felt hands on his shoulders, holding onto him, managing to only keep him grounded. He tried to match the pace of Wymack’s breathing but his own breaths would come out short and sharp.

“He is dead, Kevin. He is fucking dead. He can’t touch you.”

Kevin knew that. Knew he could be whoever he wanted to be now; he’d almost achieved that. He’d gone from Number 2, to Queen of the Exy court. He was no longer in Riko’s shadow.

Then why was it so hard to let the fuck go?

Kevin half expected Wymack to hand him a bottle of alcohol, like he’d done so many times in the past. Kevin wanted it as Wymack stood up, apparently to do just that. He clenched his left hand, waiting to feel the reassuring weight of a bottle as it started going numb.

Of course, that’s when he had to remember about Eric.

Stop clenching your fist like that. It’s better to have something to hold onto.

We all have our own weights. The question is whether you’ll allow someone to help you carry them.

Kevin rushed to the duffel bag he’d brought with him. He searched inside, making a curious Wymack halt when he noticed Kevin’s weird behaviour.

He found the puck and gripped it in his hand, as he sat down on the cold floor and threw his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes and, with something to fiddle, he finally had the chance to do the breathing exercises.

Breathe, one, two.

Hold, one, two.

Release, one, two.

It took Kevin at least ten repetitions to calm his pounding heart and rapid breathing. When he opened his eyes, Wymack was still there, alert and clearly unsure of what to do.

“Kevin?”

You can’t lie and pretend you didn’t feel anything.

It was because Kevin felt too much, that he became numb. But finally, as he sobbed, he let himself lean against his father and let it all out, allowing someone else to help carry the weight.

Wymack gripped his shoulder and held on for as long as Kevin needed it. He wasn’t exactly one to comfort people with soothing words, but he’d faced enough broken kids to know how to hold on.

It took Kevin until morning to finally calm down and fall asleep again. The bottle of vodka was left forgotten on the coffee table and neither of them touched it.

Christmas Day was a bundle of mixed feelings. Kevin felt lighter, having faced something like that and letting everything out. He wasn’t sure though how he felt about having trusted someone with this.

As days went by, he realized that carrying the weight, not only helped preserve that feeling of lightness, but also brought him a bit closer with his father.

It was only after New Year’s, three days prior to the start of the semester, that things had settled enough to help him make a decision.

The Foxes had come back, and Kevin greeted them with:

“Drive me to Atlanta.”

Nicky was ecstatic, though Kevin was mostly irritated by Allison’s smug grin as she turned on her heel and went to find the hockey team and get them to give her Eric’s address.

“Finally came to your senses?” Matt asked with a fond smile.

Kevin said nothing.

Next morning, as Kevin got in the car, he looked at Neil through the rearview mirror. Neil gave him only a nod as Andrew finally started the car.

Kevin was still filled with doubt.

But at the same time, he felt the same sense of certainty as when he had held a racquet on his left hand and strode to face Riko.

174 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Bully

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s what I’m here for.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He actually really enjoys it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does she have a record?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s—that’s not possible.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any time."

#aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #latina original female character

52 notes · View notes

themetaphorgirl · 3 years

Note

alright but can i request a patron saint hotch loopy on day quill one shot?? bc i would love to read that even if it takes like 3 years to get around to it 🥺🥺🥺

did I get in the mood to write something cuddly and kind of silly with lots of Alex and Aaron: The Wonder Twins vibes???

yes I did. also I wrote over half of this on my phone during my break at work.

----------

“...so when you think about it colloquially, it’s perfectly acceptable to refer to the monster as Frankenstein, so-“

Alex moved Spencer’s glass of orange juice out of the way before he could knock it over with an overenthusiastic wave of his hand. “JJ, what are you doing?” she asked, exasperated.

JJ reached into her cereal bowl, picked up a couple of pieces, and tossed it into an empty mug. “There’s too much cereal in my lucky charms, I only wanted the marshmallows,” she said.

“You can’t eat just marshmallows, Jennifer.”

“I’m not. I got donuts too.”

“Hotch wasn’t here to stop her,” Emily snickered.

Alex sighed. “Where is Hotchner?” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.”

“He said he slept through his alarm and he’d meet us here,” Derek said, stabbing his fork into a hashbrown.

“That’s also not like Hotch,” Alex said. She caught Spencer before he could topple out of his chair onto the floor. “Darling, I’m so glad you’re this enthusiastic at seven in the morning, but please sit down.”

Spencer obeyed, sliding down from his knees to sit on his bottom. “I got the wrong juice, I don’t like this kind,” he said. “I got the kind with pulp.”

“Why didn’t you get the kind you like?” Alex asked.

“Hotch gets it for me because I’m too short to see the labels. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Alex pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket. “He hasn’t texted me or the group chat,” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.”

“Should we be worried? I feel like we should be worried,” Penelope said.

“We don’t need to worry,” Alex said. “Spencer, what are you doing?”

“Getting the pulp out of my juice. I shouldn’t have to chew juice.”

“Please put the spoon down.”

“I’ll get you juice,” Penelope promised.

“Thank you,” Alex said. “And can you please get something for JJ that isn’t dehydrated marshmallows?”

“I like them.”

“Eat a fruit, Jennifer!”

Derek paused as Penelope left the table. “Uh...we might need to worry about Hotch,” he said.

Alex twisted around in her seat to look behind her. “Oh, fuck,” she sighed.

Hotch’s tie was knotted wrong, leaving one end of the tie dangling by his belt buckle, and his blazer was misbuttoned. His dark hair flopped over his eyes, still sleep-mussed, and his backpack was unzipped. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Sorry I’m late.” He tried to hang his backpack on the empty chair next to Alex but missed completely, sending it crashing to the floor. “Well, shit.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Emily said.

Hotch blinked. “I overslept,” he said, rubbing his ear. “What time is it?”

“Almost time to go to homeroom,” Alex said. “Are you okay?”

He kept rubbing his ear. “Huh?” he said. He sat down heavily next to Alex. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Do I have time to eat?”

JJ slid her mug of cereal over to him. “You can have the rest of my lucky charms,” she offered.

Hotch scooped a handful of dry cereal into his mouth and frowned. “What happened to all the marshmallows?” he asked.

“I ate them.”

“You can have my juice,” Spencer offered.

Hotch reached around Alex, picked up the glass, and took a swig. “Ugh, there’s stuff in it,” he complained. “I don’t want to chew my juice.”

“That’s what I said!” Spencer said.

Alex frowned. “I don’t think you’re okay,” she said. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “Yikes, Aaron. You’re burning up.”

“Hm?” he said. He coughed, a thick sound rattling deep in his chest. “I’m okay. I drank like...half a bottle of DayQuil.”

“I can tell,” she said, poking at the damp orange stain on his uniform shirt. He squinted down at it and frowned. “Also, drinking half a bottle of DayQuil doesn’t mean you’re okay. I think that’s the opposite of okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hotch said. “I have a test in second period I can’t miss.”

Emily caught his arm across the table. “Stop, stop, stop,” she said. “Do you know you’re about to pour your juice into your cereal?”

Hotch paused long enough for Alex to carefully take the glass out of his hand while he blinked in confusion. “Maybe you should make up the test later,” she suggested.

“No, I can handle a test,” he said. He blinked, then clapped a hand over his face. “Oh, shit. I think I only put one contact in this morning.” He rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye. “Shit. Aw, yikes.”

“You need to go back to bed,” Alex said. “Or the nurse’s office.”

He swatted at her hand. “No, I don’t, Alexandra,” he said. “It’s just a chest cold. Stop treating me like Spencer.”

Spencer scowled. “I think I’m insulted by that,” he said.

Alex put Spencer’s fork back in his hand. “Eat your breakfast,” she said. “Listen, Hotch, I can’t stop you if you want to go to class. But nobody’s going to judge you if you stay in your room and rest.”

Hotch coughed into his elbow. “I’m gonna get a Red Bull,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair and nearly knocking it over in the process.

“Oh, he’s definitely sick,” Derek said. “You hear his Virginia accent coming out? He sounds like Colonel Sanders.”

“Don’t worry, Al, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Emily said.

“Thanks,” she said. “Spencer, you have to drink your juice. You and Hotch have no immune systems and if he gets sick, you’re going to get sick, and I can’t deal with both of you coughing up a lung.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer said. “Although vitamin C-“

“Drink your juice.”

By the time breakfast was over Alex was confident that Hotch wasn’t going to last the whole day. His cough was deep and persistent, and he kept absentmindedly rubbing his ears. She couldn’t exactly blame him- she’d pulled similar stunts herself when a big test or project was coming up- but this was more than a mild cold. Most likely he’d make it to lunch before he relented.

To her surprise, it was even sooner.

She got to chapel early and pulled out her book to read, but she nearly dropped it when Emily’s voice cut through the soft chatter of the hall.

“Hey, Alex, come get your twin!”

Alex picked up her book and set it back beside her. “For the last time, Emily, stop telling everybody that Hotch and I are twins,” she said. She stopped. “Oh, no.”

Hotch was leaning heavily on Emily’s shoulder, his eyes glazed over. “Hey, I think I need to sit down,” he said.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Emily huffed, struggling under his weight. “You shouldn’t have gone to class in the first place.”

“I had a test,” he said.

Alex crossed her arms. “Yeah?” she said. “How’d that go for you, bubba?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t remember taking the test,” he confessed. “I remember sitting down at my desk and then...everything got kind of blurry.”

Alex sighed. “Please tell me you’re going back to your room to rest,” she said.

“I mean...it’s not that bad.” Hotch said. “I’ve been sicker before.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

Emily scanned the chapel doors. “Oh, wow, is that Haley Brooks over there?” she said. “You should go over and say hello. Haley! Hi, Haley!”

“No!” Hotch said. “Jesus, Emily, I don’t want to talk to her right now, I look like shit!”

“Then you should definitely go back to your room before she sees you,” Emily said. She gave him a gentle push towards the back exit doors. “Come on, hurry up.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alex called, but he was out the door already, his still-unzipped backpack dangling off one shoulder.

Emily tilted her head. “I don’t think he heard you,” she said. “He looks like death warmed over through. I’m kind of worried. Which means your spidey-sense must have bypassed tingling and gone straight to exploding.”

“I should have gone with him,” Alex said. “Although I’m not sure I would be able to explain missing classes.”

“Just tell your teachers you have to take care of your brother,” Emily suggested.

Alex rolled her eyes. “Listen, I don’t know you and Dave keep telling everybody we’re related,” she said. “We’re in different grades. We have different last names.”

“C’mon, it’s fun, you’re the Wonder Twins,” Emily said. She squished Alex’s cheeks and laughed. “You look enough alike to pass for siblings.”

“Nobody thinks that,” Alex said flatly, batting her hand away. “We’d better go sit before chapel starts.”

She kept her phone close through chapel and her third period class. He didn’t text her, but that wasn’t reassuring either. No news wasn’t necessarily good news.

The bell rang at the end of third period, but she hesitated before she started the walk towards the dining hall. She tapped her fingertips against the back of her phone case, and after a moment she typed out a text. Her phone buzzed seconds later with an answer.

Jamie <3

11:26am

yeah I figured youd want to check on him. dont worry about the baby i’ll make sure he eats a vegetable. love you!!!!

Alex felt the back of her neck heat up as she smiled at the screen. The whole love thing was still shiny and new and made little sparks prickle at the nape of her neck.

She slung the strap of her satchel across her shoulder and made the trek across campus to Lincoln House. Hotch had given her a spare key fob- Derek was constantly losing and finding his, resulting in multiple replacements floating around- and she let herself into the quiet lobby. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many people around.

“Ah, Miss Miller. What are you doing over here? Shouldn’t you be in the dining hall?”

Alex jumped. She was not expecting to see Mr. Gideon standing in the lobby and staring at her. “Checking on my brother, he’s, uh, he’s sick,” she blurted out.

“Oh, the big one or the little one?” he asked.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You know,” he said. “Aaron or Spencer?”

“It’s, uh, it’s the big one this time,” she said.

Mr. Gideon nodded sagely. “Your twin,” he said. “Well, go on up. Hope he feels better soon.”

He walked out to his office and closed the door; she sighed heavily. Maybe Emily and Dave were on to something after all.

She made her way up the stairs to the seventh floor and knocked lightly on his closed door. “Hotch?” she called. “It’s Alex. I just wanted to check on you.” He didn’t answer. “Hotch?” She tried the handle. “Oh, of course you locked the door.” She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and stuck it in the keyhole.

The lock popped easily after a bit of fiddling and she opened the door. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Hotchner,” she sighed.

His unzipped backpack had dumped half its contents in the middle of the floor when he’d dropped it, along with his uniform blazer and his right shoe. Hotch was sprawled out on his bed on top of the covers, his long gangly legs dragging on the floor and his left shoe still on. He was still wearing his uniform and his rarely-worn glasses perched at a crooked angle on his nose, threatening to fall off at any moment as he snored.

“You’re dead to the world, aren’t you, bubba?” she said aloud. She set her satchel and blazer down on Hotch’s desk and sat on the edge of his bed. His breathing was shallow and congested, and his face was flushed red. “Hotch. Hotchner. Wake up for a second.” She pinched him lightly and his eyes shot open. “Hey, good, you’re awake.”

“What the fuck?” he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses sideways. “How did you get in here?”

“Picked the lock with a bobby pin,” she said.

He scrunched up his nose. “Like Annie Drew?”

“It’s Nancy Drew, and maybe that’s where I learned it from, I read a lot of mystery novels when I was an impressionable middle schooler,” she said. She tucked her legs underneath her and touched the back of her hand to his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hot garbage,” he said. “This cold is kicking my ass.”

“I don’t think you have a cold, bubba, I think you have bronchitis,” she said. “Did you take anything when you got back here or did you just crash?”

“Well, I’ve had most of a bottle of DayQuil today,” he said. He struggled to sit up. “You know what happens when you drink most of a bottle of DayQuil?”

“No, what happens?”

“Nothing good, I’ll tell you that for free,” he said.

Alex winced in sympathy. “You threw up?”

He ran his hands through his hair and dragged his palms over his face. “It was neon orange, Al,” he said, slightly muffled.

“That’s no good,” she said. “Did you-”

He broke into a cough, thick and heavy and rattling in his lungs, and Alex rubbed his back. “Hey, you’re okay,” she said gently. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay,”

It took a moment for him to settle down and breathe normally again; his glasses tilted drunkenly on his nose and his eyes were watering. “That sucked,” he rasped.

“Yeah, I bet,” she said. “You’ve got the sore throat, right? Feels like you swallowed broken glass?”

“I was going to say barbed wire, but yeah,” he said.

Alex squeezed his knee. “Get out of your uniform and lie down,” she said. “I’ll go get you something to drink. How much water have you had today?”

“If Red Bull counts, then I’ve had two waters.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get you water and a gatorade,” she said. “You get changed.”

She started to leave the room. “Hey, Alex?” he asked. She paused in the doorway. “Can you get me a purple one?”

“Yes, I’ll get you a purple gatorade.”

“The light purple, not the dark purple,” he called after her.

“I remember, I remember,” she called back.

She went down to the vending machines and got him two bottled waters and a light purple gatorade. For all his mature-for-his-age, old soul vibe, Hotch was as hard to handle as Spencer when he wasn’t feeling well.

His door was cracked when she got back to his room, but she paused. He’d changed into flannel pajama pants and he was struggling into one of his wrestling tee shirts. Alex bit back a wince and ducked back into the hallway. She rarely saw the scars on his back, but he usually kept them well hidden and it never got easier to see it. He didn’t like to talk about it, and she didn’t blame him.

When she was sure the coast was clear she stepped back into the room. Hotch sat on his bed, his shoulders slumped and his head in his hands. “Headache?” she asked as she set the bottles down on his nightstand.

“It feels like there’s a rock concert playing directly in my brain,” he said.

She went into his bathroom and dug around in the medicine cabinet. He didn’t have much for himself; it was mostly medicine they kept on hand for Spencer. “Oh, I can give you the big boy ibuprofen instead of the chewable stuff,” she teased. She set the bottle of ibuprofen down with the drinks. “This first though. Hold still.”

She set the thermometer in his ear and he jumped. “Ow,” he complained. “You could have warned me.”

“If I warned you, you’d try to argue,” she said. It beeped and she held it out so he could see the readout. “A hundred point four. You’re not going to class today, or tomorrow either.”

He rolled his eyes. “At least I got my test done,” he said.

“How do you think you did?” she asked.

“I don’t think I failed.”

Alex took his hand so she could place the pills in his hand, then opened one of the bottles of water. “Take these. Drink all of this. And then go to sleep,” she said.

“I’m not tired, I had so much DayQuil,” he complained as he popped the pills in his mouth.

“Which you’ve already puked back up,” she pointed out. “You need to get some sleep.”

He chugged a third of the water and paused to cough. “I just need to rest,” he said. “Can you hand me my laptop.”

“No.”

Hotch scowled. “Alexandra. Give me my laptop,” he said. “I have an essay due on Friday.”

She grabbed his laptop and wrestled it into her school bag. “You can have it back when you’re not running a fever,” she said.

“Alex!” he whined. “I need to work on that.” She bit back a laugh. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Sorry, it’s hard to take you seriously with your nerd glasses on,” she said. He huffed, which turned into another cough. “Seriously, Aaron. You need to take it easy. And it’s school policy that you can’t attend classes until you’ve been fever-free for twenty-four hours.” He rubbed his ear. “Besides, you know Spencer’s going to try to spend quality time with you, and he’s not going to be able to handle it if he catches what you have. The more you rest and take care of yourself, the sooner you’ll get over it.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine,” he said. “You win.”

“I usually do.”

“You just had to play the Spencer card.”

“I was saving it just in case.”

Hotch set the empty water bottle back on the nightstand and shifted around until he was under the covers. “Are you going back to class?” he asked. “Lunch is almost over.”

He sounded nonchalant, but he was avoiding her eyes and tugging at a loose thread on his comforter. “I can stay a while longer,” she said. “Besides, if anybody asks where I was, Gideon can tell them I was with you. You know he thinks we’re twins too?”

“For such a brilliant man, he’s kind of clueless,” Hotch said. “I’m not going to sleep, but I’ll rest, okay?”

“Sure,” Alex said. “Do you want to watch something?” She pulled at the laces of her ankle boots. “Do you want to watch wrestling?”

“I don’t watch wrestling.”

Alex looked him up and down. “We all know you’re a secret wrestling fan,” she said. “And even if you say you’re not, I can read your tee shirt.”

“No one ever wants to watch wrestling with me,” he said.

“Yes, well, you’re sick, you should get to watch what you want,” she said. She set her boots aside and handed him the remote. “Now scoot over.”

He paused, the remote balanced in his hand as the TV blinked on. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I said so,” she said. “I mean it! Scoot over.”

He obeyed, still clearly confused, and she pulled and tugged at him until they both fit on his narrow twin bed, his head resting on her stomach. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Wow, you really are mostly limbs, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had a couple of growth spurts,” he said. “You’re sure you want to watch wrestling with me?”

“Go for it,” she said.

Truthfully she had no desire to watch wrestling, but she knew it would make him happy, and when he was this sick he deserved things that would make him happy. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, and before long she heard him snoring again, the sound thick and rattling in his lungs. When she was sure he was asleep she tugged his glasses off and set them aside on the nightstand. Most likely he would wake up cranky and groggy and he’d try to argue that he could go to class, but for now she could keep him calm and quiet, and hopefully the sleep would help.

“Maybe you’ll be a little bit less of an absolute disaster when you wake up,” she said, and she kept stroking his hair while he slept.

#au: patron saint of lost causes #caitlin writes things #patron saint: hotch #patron saint: alex #patron saint: the wonder twins #alex is a mom #hotch is an ABSOLUTE DISASTER #spencer is a perfect cherub #wow james loves alex #emily is a queen #EAT A FRUIT JENNIFER #yes hotch is a secret wrestling fan #criminal minds fanfiction #brenna has helped me workshop a lot of ideas for my hotch arc and some of those ideas are popping up here #Anonymous #thank you for asking!!

142 notes · View notes