#and i dont think hotch can stop caring once he starts

[maschotch]

hi again!

i am naturally ever so soft for emily prentiss but oh my GOODNESS that beautiful character study?

“there was always a sickening layer of sin over her skin” — my God. How painfully true. And she knows it too, the look on her face at the end of Demonology as she gazes up at the church with that little bit of blood trickling out her nose says it all. 😭

and is there anything more heartbreakingly accurate to described Hotch than “A calculated tenderness.” 🥺💛

i loved it 💛

- 🦢

ahhh this is so nice!!

i really don’t write emily as much as i should but it’s hard to convey her energy… soo much of her character is dependent on pg’s mouth movements delivery, and it’s hard to hit that sweet spot between free-spirited and caring

akhdksh i really didnt intend that sin part to be a reference.. i was actually a little reluctant bc im rarely willing to casually slip in some religious-type word, but “she felt icky” didnt seem to cover itskdjskhx but i like the parallel! i probably have more to say on emily and religion but i couldnt think of any other way to describe just how ingrained her regret is and how everythings shes done feels like a permanent stain that she can never wash off

“calculated tenderness” WAS intentional bc i feel like it really does encapsulate his behavior. hotch being reserved yet unabashed in his kindness is such a weird contradiction (which again id like to give credit to the actor for) but it suits him so well. he’s either afraid to feel or express his love, but he can’t help it. and i think each member of the team comes to realize the depth of his affection in their own time.. emily just happens to be incredibly observant, so i think she notices it the fastest (especially bc she witnessed it before she experienced it for herself). i could really talk ab this all day skdhskd

#ok see the reason i dont write character studies that often is because i can talk for sooooo long ab them #and i love talking about it so i love that you sent this ask—i just have to stop myself from writing an essay in response #it fucking sucks bc it seems like sometimes the team just… forgets that hotch cares and they have to relearn that all over again #which is some fucking bullshit #garcia does it the most—which is kinda odd tbh bc she tends to look on the bright side #she’s so brave and open about who she is but for some reason she’s insecure when it comes to hotch #even tho he’s never reprimanded her.. she thinks she’s constsntly disappointing him #reid forgets ab how much hotch cares pretty often but tbh its somethin he unintentionally does w everyone #he can get stuck in his own little bubble sometimes and i think he just? forgets that other people experience emotion? #(when i talk ab reid being emotionally immature this is always what im talking about) #derek forgets in his own way… like… he always knows that hotch cares for the team #he just forgets that that includes HIM #akdhskhd idk how it happens but its like he doesnt realize that he’s loved as an individual #emily does something similar… she recognizes that hotch cares ab the team (including her) #but she feels guilty about it #she subconsciously distances herself from the rest but its too late: hotch cares about her too #and i dont think hotch can stop caring once he starts #asks #n e ways. skipping the update today akdhsk i’ll either post two tomorrow or three on friday #ive got two exams tmrw so obviously instead of studying or writing i had to obsess over mob psycho #priorities

[x-reader-theater]

Hotch x male reader where reader is a psychologist at an asylum but went to an old abandoned one to check what all needed to be redone to be rebuilt and the team's unsub was actually there? And when the team gets there, they find the reader having a conversation with the unsub and reader has the unsub's weapon behind them. So kinda like angst when Hotch thinks of all the negative possibilities and fluff afterwards? totally get if you dont wanna do this, have a nice day

Omg this was sooooooo much fun! I hope this is good! Edited by @mystic-writes

Gif by @hqtchner

You sigh as you enter the abandoned asylum. You had plans to work with local organizations to remodel it into a beautiful read facility with everything everyone could need. The building itself, while dilapidated and in ruin, was still a beautiful building and could be made even more beautiful when remade.

When you step inside, you can see the old graffiti immediately, but you also notice old, out of date medical equipment in here. Probably used for the ghost tours and shows that liked to come through here. You know there hasn't been one in a few years, and the city isn't making as much money anymore. Hence why they're considering the rehab facility.

You know it's not usually your job to do this, but you lived next to this building for most of your pre-adult life and you would tell all kinds of ridiculous ghost stories about it, but you've never been inside. You were too young for the ghost tours and you weren't one to break into places that were off limits. Until now, of course.

You stop though when you enter a room, and see someone. A man. He's hunched over something and you make a shuffling sound to make sure he's not scared.

He gets up quickly and turns around, scared.

You smile kindly at him. "Hi! I'm really hoping you're not a cop right now because I'm not really supposed to be here," you say with a nervous laugh.

The man shakes his head. "No. No. Not a cop. Not a cop."

You smile again. "Good. I'm glad. Because technically I should have talked to the city before coming here, but, well, guess I'm a rule breaker too, huh?" you ask with a wink.

The man nods, but looks away from you. You turn and see a newer looking, plastic table with some things laid out on it. Pictures, a digital camera, and a knife. You frown, but don't comment on it.

–

Hotch walks silently into the asylum, the swat team behind him, gun in hand, as they move quietly through the halls. He hears talking and motions for the team to follow him. They all lean against the wall by the door, but don't enter yet, because there's two voices in there.

And Hotch knows one of them; yours.

–

"So! How long have you been coming here? You seem to be pretty well set up," you say and the man nods but he's not looking at you.

"A while. A while. My mother used to be here. She-she would let me visit her, said that if I wasn't careful I could end up in this place one day. When she died and it closed down, I couldn't stop coming here. This is where the final memory of my mother is," he explains and you not, clasping your hands behind your back.

The man turns around. "I see. Well, unless you do drugs and want to stop, you won't be in here ever really."

The man frowns at you. "What do you mean?" he asks.

You shrug. "This place is getting remodeled by the city, going to be turned into a drug rehabilitation center for those that want to get clean. It won't be people here who don't want to be here, and will hopefully help the homeless as well," you explain. "We plan on having a couple people here to help with job finding, writing resumes and cover letters, and finding affordable housing for them once they have their job. It took a couple of years, but we finally convinced the city that it would help them."

"That sounds nice," the man says quietly. You smile, but it falls with what he says next. "But I can't let you do that."

"Why?" You ask, putting your hands on the table and leaning slightly.

His eyes flick to the table, and to your hands, which are very close to the knife.

"I can't!" He exclaims and starts charging towards you.

A shot rings out and you stumble back, into the wall, slipping to the ground as you do so. Underneath the table you see the man groaning and holding his shoulder as some heavily armed men storm in and pin him to the ground.

"[Y/N]?"

You look up in shock as you hear your boyfriend, Aaron, say your name. "Honey? What are you doing here?" You ask.

He bends down in front of you and you lean over, hugging him right. "I could ask you the same thing," he says, breathlessly.

You pull away from him and hold his shoulders, before breathing out a laugh and saying, "Holy shit."

He laughs as well. "Yeah."

#aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #my writing #my work

[thegreatestofheck]

dark of the night [A. Hotchner]

word count – 25,555 (its so long im so sorry) warnings - a lot, blood, torture, mentions (but no descriptions) of sexual assault/rape, murder, canon violence stuff, this is essentially a hurt/comfort fic so expect a lot of hurt to come before the comfort, also a slow burn. synopsis - an agent gets taken in the middle of an investigation. in a race against time, the team at the bau must find her by diving into her deepest secrets. when a video tape arrives with horrible images of the state of their friends, aaron hotchner realizes just how terrified he is of losing her.  tagging: @magicalbluepanther (i hope you don’t mind the tag lol) a/n – did anyone order an extra long aaron hotchner slow burn? Because here you’ve got one. so my mental health is declining again and that means I have to write a criminal minds one shot that involves a lot of hurt/comfort. also I gave y/n a name because i don’t really like y/l/n or anything, but you’re more than welcome to replace it with your own! please dont be mad at me. anyway, stay happy, healthy, safe, and groovy!

The moment Agent Hotchner realized that she wasn’t coming back, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. It had happened once before, this feeling, the day he was in his car and he got that call from Foyet and heard Hayley’s muffled sobbing over the phone. Panic settled into his bones, unable to shake it away even as the terrified eyes of the rest of the team looked his way. 

“Did we just lose her?” Emily Prentiss asked, her words wavering ever so slightly as she tried to keep herself calm. 

At the sound of her voice, Hotch finally found himself able to look around the room. 

Morgan had shifted his eyes back to the door that his friend was supposed to come through. Reid stared at Hotch, wide eyed, lips parted. JJ was chewing on her thumb nail, waiting for Hotch to do something, say something. Emily was looking between the door and Hotch. Rossi was standing behind him, so he couldn’t see the look on his face, but Hotch couldn’t imagine he looked any different than the rest of his team. 

Agent Evelyn Caro had walked into the meeting, undercover, in hopes of baiting a serial killer into a quick and easy arrest. After three years of horrific killings, the BAU team was so close to catching him and Agent Caro was more than willing to be the one to take him down. 

Hotch knew this particular case was a sore spot for Caro, as all torture/murder cases were. But during this entire case, she had been far more on edge and far more eager to tear their suspect to shreds. He shouldn’t have let her go to the meeting, he knew it was too personal for her, even if she had never told him why. 

She had refused to take in a ear piece, said that the stories that would be told at the meeting were personal and their privacy was to be respected. Hotch trusted her. He agreed. They all stood outside and waited. The meeting should have been only two hours, Caro promised that she would be back with the suspect in less than three hours. 

But it had now been three hours and almost thirty minutes. The door hadn’t opened a single time since the last of the members of the meeting left, all except Caro and the suspect. 

She fit his physical appearance preference and possessed the confidence he appeared to have deep hatred for. It should have been an easy job. 

“What went wrong?” Hotch murmured out loud, more to himself. 

His words seemed to trigger something in Morgan, who pushed open the van door and unholestered his weapon before anybody could stop him. 

“Morgan!” Rossi yelled after him, but there was no slowing down, and once Morgan was running toward the meeting building, Emily and Reid were on his tail. 

“Hotch, what do we do?” JJ asked, turning toward him as Rossi hopped out of the car to go after his peers. 

Hotch ran through every single protocol that he knew like the back of his hand. They flitted through his brain like smoke, a flurry of useless words and numbers that meant nothing to him. Not a single one told him how to deal with this. Tightness squeezed at his chest as the rules and regulations he clung so tightly to began to fail him once again. 

“We find her.” 

Gun drawn, Hotch entered the building with JJ on his tail. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his composure about him. The same couldn’t be said for some of the others. 

“Evie!” Morgan called out, kicking down a door. 

“Evelyn?” Rossi’s voice echoed through elementary school. 

Hotch was seconds away from calling out her name himself, but he kept his jaw clenched tight. JJ followed every move he made. If he lost himself now, so would JJ. He needed at least one person on his side whose head was still level. 

They scoured the entire grounds, but they could find nothing. The room where the meeting had taken place was empty. Not even the leader was there anymore. This dark room was where the team met up after searching every inch of the grounds. 

There was silence for an eternity as they passed glances between each other, wordlessly asking if anyone had found anything. 

“There’s not even a footprint,” Morgan said helplessly, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. 

“I didn’t hear her scream.” JJ’s voice was weak and her eyes downcast. 

“None of us did,” Rossi replied. 

“We have to find her quickly,” Hotch said, finally trusting himself enough to speak. “He only keeps his victims for five days and if he knows she’s FBI, it’s probably less than that.” 

“I’ll call Garcia, track Evie’s phone,” Morgan said, pulling out his phone and turning away from the group. 

“We start from the ground up,” Hotch instructed. “Right now, Agent Caro isn’t our coworker but a victim and we have to treat her as such if we want to find her. Dig into her life, figure out what connects her to the other victims. Did he take her because she’s FBI or because she’s connected to the others. Morgan?”

“Her phone’s off,” Morgan said, pulling the phone away from his ear. 

“Tell Garcia to look for a connection between all of the victims. Dig and dig deep. Hold nothing back.”

Morgan paused for a moment. They all remembered when they had to do this very thing to him, when he was a suspect all those years ago. He knew what it was like to have his friends digging into a personal life he long wanted buried, how they looked at him differently after they knew, even if they didn’t mean to. He didn’t understand then, that they were trying to help, but he did now. There was no time to hesitate. This was Evelyn they were talking about. 

“Garcia, give me everything on Evelyn Caro that you can find. Dig deep. She needs us,” Morgan said. 

“Got it.” 

“Call me when you get anything.” 

“Yup.” 

She ended the call and Morgan turned back to the team. 

“Garcia’s on it.” 

“Okay, then we need to get back to the station and look at everything again. We have a name. We know it’s him. We just need to find them.” Hotch turned away from the team and started for the exit. “No one goes home until we find her.” 

___

Hotch meant what he said, but no one needed to be told twice. Red rimmed eyes scanned the same files over and over and over again as they waited for any amount of information from Garcia. 

“There has to be something here,” Morgan said with a frustrated sigh. “Something we’re missing.” 

“Why did he take her?” JJ asked as she set down her file. The woman rubbed her eyes before crossing her arms and looking up at the rest of the room. “I mean, what changed in that room that made him want her?”

“He found out she was FBI?” Reid suggested, leaning back in his chair. 

“How though?” Rossi piped in from his position leaning up against the wall. “Caro isn’t dumb enough to reveal herself, we were careful.” 

“She must have said something in that meeting that convinced him that she was a good target,” Hotch said. He could feel all eyes on him as he watched the ground, unable to meet any of their gazes. “Maybe this is how he finds his victims. At these group meetings.” 

“So we sent Evie into a death trap.” Morgan shoved his chair away from the table and stood, hands on his hips as he breathed heavily. 

“We have to figure out what connects her to the other victims,” Emily said. “Just like any other case.” 

“But this isn’t any other case is it?” 

“Morgan-” 

“This is Evelyn we’re talking about!” 

“Morgan, I need you to calm down,” Hotch said, standing from his place. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Hotch.” Morgan trembled with rage, his eyes glazed over with water. “You can’t expect me to sit here and-” 

“I expect you to do your job, Agent Morgan, seeing as that is the only thing that will get Caro back home.” Hotch struggled to keep his voice low. He curled his fists so the others couldn’t see how badly his hands were shaking. 

“You think we’ll get her back?” 

“If you do your job.” 

Morgan breathed in deeply and nodded his head. Before he sat back down, Morgan put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. The kid had his hand covering his mouth, his eyes glazed over like Morgan’s had been. 

Hotch knew how close Morgan and Caro were. Ever since she signed on to the team, the two had been nearly inseparable. Hotch wondered if it was something he needed to discuss with them. Every time that he seriously considered it, he had to question his motivations. Was it to keep complications out of their team or was it something else, something he wasn’t ready to admit? 

Turning his eyes away from Reid and Morgan, Hotch opened his mouth to address the team when Garcia stepped into the open doorway. They all turned to look at her only to see that her cheeks were streaked with tears as she clutched a file in her hands. 

“Garcia, what is it?” Emily stood and walked toward her, a hand out open for her. 

“You...you told me to dig deep so I did,” she stammered. “I...I did and I found...oh, God.” 

“Come in,” Hotch said, trying to smooth the furrow in his brows. 

Garcia took Emily’s hand and shuffled into the briefing room, sniffling through her tears. 

“Our poor baby girl,” Garcia said, setting the file gently onto the round table as if it was fragile. “She never told us-” 

“Garcia.” 

Garcia cleared her throat and nodded her head, flipping the file open. The team crowded around the table. Staring up at them was a picture of a young girl, her face purpled and bloody. Morgan clenched his jaw, Reid turned his face away from the picture. 

“Is that Caro?” JJ asked, her hand hovering over her mouth. 

Hotch had seen this picture before, attached to the file so covered in black redacted lines that he barely gleaned anything from it. But there were no more black lines. Everything about Agent Caro was there for him to read. Her life was an open book for him. This was his job, the only way to get her back, so why did he feel so dirty doing it? 

“When Evie-”

“Evelyn,” Hotch corrected. “She can’t be our friend right now.”

Garcia nodded, her eyes still glassy. 

“When Evelyn Caro was 12 years old, she was kidnapped from her front lawn. She was held captive by her...by her uncle for four years. He did...he did horrible things to her...I’m sorry-” 

Garcia choked, turning away from the file. Morgan put his hand on Garcia’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“She was held by her uncle,” Hotch continued, eyes scanning the page, when it was clear that Garcia wouldn’t be able to. “There were clear signs of r-pe and physical violence, even though she never spoke about it afterward.” 

“She was held captive by her uncle?” Morgan asked. “How did no one know it was him?”

“Police talked to everyone in the family,” Garcia said, turning back into the conversation. “He was never on their serious list of suspects.” 

“How did she get out?” Rossi asked from his place near the back of the crowd.

“She broke out,” Garcia said, her voice like iron even as her lower lip trembled. “She stabbed that son of a bitch the moment she got the chance and she ran until someone found her.” 

“She killed him?” JJ asked. 

Hotch let out a heavy sigh. Something like pride blossomed in his chest. Maybe it was vindication. He would have killed the bastard himself. 

“Why wouldn’t she tell us?” Reid asked, looking up at Hotch like a lost dog. 

“We all have secrets we’ve kept from each other,” Hotch told him, even though he was wondering the same thing. “Now we need to figure out if this is somehow related to why he took her.” 

There was a moment of silence hanging over the room. 

“Garcia, look into the lives of the other women again,” he continued. “See if there is any kind of connection.” 

“I’m on it.”

There was a new kind of determination in her voice, like a fire was lit underneath her.

“Videos of the other victims were sent to the families of the victims,” Hotch said, looking back at the rest of the team. “JJ, contact her brother, see if he’s received anything and tell him to contact us as soon as he is.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about the rest of us?” 

Once again, all eyes were on Hotch, expecting him to have all of the answers. But he didn’t. He didn’t know anything. 

“Do your jobs.”

___

When the video was sent to her family, it wasn’t her estranged brother who received it. 

“Hotch.” Morgan’s voice was shaking as he picked up the yellow envelope on his desk. “Hotch!” 

As soon as Hotch saw the package he knew what had to be in it. He had seen four of them before all from the previous victims’ families. His heart constricted in his chest. He knew what they were about to watch. Their team member, their friend. 

Grinding his teeth together to keep his face straight, Hotch took the package from Morgan and started back for the briefing room. 

“Do you want me to round up the team?” Morgan asked. 

“You guys shouldn’t have to watch this,” Hotch told him. 

“You’re not watching it alone.” 

Without another word, Morgan went to collect the others. 

Once they were all in the briefing room, Garcia put the recording onto the big screen. 

“You don’t-” 

“We’re staying,” JJ said, her fingers laced with Emily’s. 

Hotch nodded once before looking over at Garcia and signaling her to start the video. 

As soon as Garcia hit the play button, Morgan put an arm around her shoulder and she put a hand up to her mouth. Hotch leaned against a chair, his knuckles going white. 

The screen was black for a few moments. When it turned on, Agent Evelyn Caro was sitting half naked on a cot. Bruises littered her body, her ribs on the left side blackened. A cut ran across a purple cheek with dried blood running down her face. One of her eyes was black. But Caro stared straight ahead of her, eyes made of steal. 

“Oh, baby,” Garcia breathed. 

The room was small, bland. It looked cold. 

A man stepped into the frame. Caro didn’t even look at him, she just kept staring straight ahead. Before he even said anything, he raised a hand and slapped her across the face. Reid flinched, but none of them turned away. Their attention needed to be on this video, gleaning as much information as they could to get her home. Hotch refused to let her suffering go to waste. He would watch every second of it, no matter how much his stomach burned with hatred. 

Caro barely reacted to the backhand, her head snapping to the side, but the rest of her body stayed in the same place, her hands clasped together in her lap. When she straightened her head, blood trickled down from her lip. She lifted a hand to wipe the blood away before looking up at the man. Her eyes carried the heat of a thousand suns as she looked at her assailant, almost as if daring him to touch her again. That was the Caro that Hotch knew. She would never back down, never give in. 

“What do you want?” She asked. 

Hearing her voice so raw sent a chill down Hotch’s spine. Everything about this was wrong. 

“I know what happened to you when you were young,” the man said, walking in front of her. 

Caro clenched her jaw and turned her face forward once again, seeming to pretend that he wasn’t there. 

“Does this feel familiar to you?” the man asked, spinning in a circle. “The room, the bed, the chain.” 

Hotch’s eyes shifted away from Caro and he looked more at the bed. There was indeed a chain attached to the metal of the bed frame. Caro’s jaw tightened again and Hotch watched as she ran a finger over a scar he had seen on her wrist a million times before but never asked her about. He could only imagine a young Agent Caro, chained to a bed. She carried that scar around with her and he had never even cared enough to ask her about it. 

“It’s exactly the same,” Caro said.

The man sat next to her and still Caro didn’t flinch. Not even her breathing changed. Amidst his anger and his fear, Hotch felt pride. Damn right she would not even acknowledge him. Hotch expected nothing less from her. Though he wouldn’t fault her if she did. 

The Unsub put his hand on her knee and Hotch’s eyes went red. His ears rang, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He watched Caro look down at the Unsub’s hand and Hotch noticed a slight tremble in her body. Her shaking was rage, not fear. He knew her well enough to know that. 

“What do you want?” The tremor reached her voice. Hotch could see her holding back from killing the unsub then and there. Her restraint told him that her captor was the only way out of her room. If she killed him now, she would be trapped. 

The unsub sighed and tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on the ground. 

“I want to break you,” he said.

Hotch clenched his jaw, but still Caro’s face stayed straight. She didn’t even blink. The words ‘I dare you to try’ never even passed her lips, but it was a clear challenge in her eyes. 

The image cut and Hotch almost thought that was going to be the end. But then it suddenly clicked on. Caro was slowly sitting up from laying on the bed. The unsub was halfway in the frame, buckling his belt. Hotch heard a quiet ‘oh’ come from Garcia and when he glanced over at her, he noticed tears in Morgan’s eyes. 

Caro seemed stiff as she sat up. The chain that had before been only attached to the bed was now shackled to her wrist. Hotch watched her grimace as she moved her feet to the ground. Her toes curled, telling Hotch that the ground was cold. The entire room must have been freezing. 

A silence hung over the team as they waited for something to happen. 

“You’re tough, I’ll give you that,” the unsub said. Caro refused to look at him. “The other girls gave in at this point.” 

“And then you killed them.” Caro looked over at him, moving slowly and clearly despite the pain that was obvious settling into her bones. 

The unsub shrugged his shoulders, a proud smile on his face. 

“Some girls seem to think that death is better than what I did to them,” he said. “But maybe you kind of like it.” 

Caro pulled harshly against her chain, shutting her eyes and turning her face away from him. 

“Son of a bitch,” Rossi breathed. Hotch refrained from looking back at him. 

“How does she not strangle him?” JJ asked. Her words were tight from the swelling in her throat. 

“He’s her only way out of that room,” Hotch told her. “She kills him and she starves in there.” 

“Not if we find her.” 

They fell quiet again, just soon enough to hear a low rumble of a laugh from the man. 

“I see I struck a nerve.” The unsub said. 

Caro steadied her breathing and straightened her shoulders. 

“I’m not surprised you’ve lasted longer than the other girls, being an FBI agent and all. I wonder how your friends are doing.” 

Caro pulled against the chain again, her eyes squeezing tighter. 

“Ah, another nerve. Should we poke at that one a bit more?” 

The unsub stepped out of the frame. For the briefest moment, with his back turned on her, Caro’s eyes flicked toward the camera. 

“She knows it’s there,” Reid said. “She knows about the camera.” 

Caro sucked in a deep breath and gave a short nod of her head. She knew her taker’s MO. She knew about the videos and the envelope. She knew they were watching her, and she was telling them that she was okay. 

When the unsub walked back into frame, he was holding something in his hands. With his back to the camera, they couldn’t get a good look at what he was holding.

“I am aware that your brother is the only remaining relative of yours who will speak to you, is that correct?” The unsub said.

Caro breathed deeply in once, her eyes staring straight through the unsub.

“This is him and his wife, their two daughters. Beautiful family. When was the last time you spoke to them?”

Agent Caro’s eyes moved from the unsub to the object in his hand and her eyes immediately welled up with tears. The unsub clicked his tongue.

“It’s the shame, isn’t it? It eats you up inside. You can’t bear the thought of tainting your brother and his perfect family with your past.”

She closed her eyes and turned her face away.

“This is Penelope Garcia, yes?”

Garcia straightened her back, surprised at hearing her name.

Caro opened her eyes and Hotch noticed a drastic shift in her breathing. Once steady and calm, her chest now rose and fell at an uneven pace. Her eyes darted between whatever the unsub was holding and his face.

“Jennifer Jareau?”

The unsub tossed something onto the bed next to Caro. And then another.

“David Rossi?”

For the first time, Caro flinched as he flicked what Hotch was starting to realize was a picture in her direction.

“Emily Prentiss. Spencer Reid.”

Two more pictures were thrown at her and Caro flinched twice more.

“Derek Morgan.”

A fire lit in Caro’s eyes as she stared up at him again.

“Aaron Hotchner.”

Before he could even throw the picture her way, Caro jumped up from the bed and charged at him, pulling on the chair.

“If you touch them, I swear I’ll kill you,” she seethed.

The unsub shoved her backward onto the bed, but she scrambled up again. He hit her across the face, sending her back with a yelp. Breathing heavily, she turned to look at him, like a rabid dog.

“That’s a hard promise to make seeing as you are chained to a bed and I am not.”

“She has to know that he can’t hurt us,” Emily said, looking to Hotch for answers.

“She’s panicking,” Hotch replied. His knuckles tightened over the chairs.

“You think I won’t go after them?” the unsub said as he dropped a hand onto her shoulder.

Caro turned her face away from him and shook her head.

“You can’t,” she said. Her voice was growing weak, shaking more. “They’re FBI, you can’t just-“

She didn’t get the chance to finish before the unsub threw a fist across her face.

“I won’t even have to hurt them though, will I?” The unsub sneered, bending down close to her face. “I bet by now they know every dark secret about your past. Every skeleton in your closet. They know about the blood on your hands.”

Hotch had read her file that Garcia dug up a thousand times over in the last few days since she found it. Something in him told him he had to, though another part of him wanted to wait until Caro was there to tell him herself. But she deserved better than for her story to go unknown. She deserved to have someone know.

“No,” Caro whimpered.

“You really think they’ll accept you after that?” The unsub let out a laugh.

“Evie, we love you,” Garcia said as she took a step forward. “Evie-“

“Garcia, quiet,” Hotch said, putting out a hand.

“Sir, she has to know, she has to know.”

Morgan put his arm back around Garcia and pulled her in for a hug.

“She knows,” he whispered to her.

“You lost your family once because of what you did to your uncle,” the unsub said. “Now you’ll lose another.”

“No!”

Caro threw herself at the unsub once again, her fists flying. Hotch had seen her fight before. She was well trained, and she was calculated, confident. But this was animalistic. This was pure instinct. Her punches were weak and light, hitting the places of the unsub where very little damage would be done. The chain prevented any real effort from her, though the bed shook and rattled as she yanked against the metal. It didn’t take him long to wrestle her onto the bed, pinning her down by her arms.

Her face was clearly displayed to the camera. She breathed sporadically, panting and gasping for air. Sweat beaded down her battered face. Her eyes were wide and flitting back and forth, terrified.

“How would you feel if I paid one of them a visit, huh?” The unsub asked, his nose brushing against her cheek.

Caro struggled, a growl of frustration strangled in her sore throat.

“That Spencer Reid lives alone, doesn’t he?”

Rossi put a hand on Reid’s shoulder, who had suddenly gone pale.

“Don’t touch him!” She thrashed again, trying to throw the unsub off of her. She tried to kick her feet, but they were effectively pinned under her by the weight of the unsub. She grunted and groaned in the effort it took to try and get him off of her.

“I doubt it would take much to strangle that skinny neck of his.”

Caro suddenly stopped struggled. The sweat that pooled down her cheeks suddenly started to look more like tears as her body went still.

“Please don’t hurt them,” she said, her voice quiet.

“What, you don’t want me creeping into Emily’s apartment tonight, pay her a little visit?”

Caro let out a quiet sound, something that was almost like a sob.

“Please.”

“What will you do for me in return?” He asked, pressing still closer to her face.

Caro rolled her head back and forth on the bed and Hotch could see the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

She just nodded her head, lower lip quavering.

“Don’t give up, baby girl,” Morgan whispered. Garcia clung tighter to his hand.

“Well, well,” the unsub said with a sigh as he sat up, releasing Caro from his hold. Her body sagged even further into the cot. He stepped away from the cot and bent down to pick up some of the pictures that fell to the floor. “There isn’t really anything I want from you just now, so I might go and visit one of your friends just to keep you on your toes.”

“No!” Caro leapt from the bed and attached herself to the unsub’s back.

He threw her against back against the cot. Hotch could see him lift his hand to deliver hit after hit to his agent, but he was grateful that the unsub’s back blocked the view of the camera. He didn’t think he could stand to watch her get beaten.

Caro was surprisingly silent as the unsub hit her.

It was over relatively quickly. The unsub straightened himself out, squaring his shoulders. Without a word, he turned to the camera and walked toward it. Caro let out a quiet groan just before the unsub picked up the camera and shut it off.

There was a heavy silence that fell over the team.

“What the hell did we just watch?” Emily asked, setting her eyes on Hotch.

They were once again expecting him to have all the answers, but he had nothing to say. His hands were cramping from how hard he was clenching onto the chair. It took all the strength in him not to throw it across the room. Caro should be here with them, not in that room, not with that man.

“Garcia, can you play the end again and turn up the volume?” Rossi asked.

“No offense, sir,” Garcia said, teary eyed. “But I can’t watch that again.”

“Just the very end, as he’s walking toward the camera. Agent Caro said something.”

“Did she?” JJ asked, crossing her arms.

Garcia pressed a few buttons on her laptop and the video returned. Hotch was almost tempted to look away. The audio was louder as the unsub heaved out an exhausted sigh and started walking toward the camera. And then they heard it, the quiet groan. But it wasn’t a groan at all. She had said something, just a quiet name.

His name.

Aaron.

___

Sitting at his desk, Hotch couldn’t seem to lift his heavy head from his hands. The window, which was almost always closed, was wide open. His office was too stuffy, too hot. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t get the sound of his name from her lips out of his head.

A knock came to his door and he finally lifted his head. Rossi was standing there with his usual “something is wrong and I’m going to fix it” face. Hotch wasn’t sure if he was in the mood for this conversation.

“What can I do for you, David?”

“We have to talk about what just happened,” Rossi said.

“I don’t really think-“

“Aaron, listen to me,” Rossi said, walking into the room. “Evelyn needs you right now.”

“There’s nothing I can do that the team isn’t already doing.”

“She said your name.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that?” Hotch’s tone was a little sharper than he meant it to be. He let out a sigh and stretched out his fingers.

Rossi sat down across from him.

“Why? We all know that she’s closest with Morgan, so why say your name?” Rossi asked. Hotch squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. The exhaustion headache that was plaguing him wasn’t helping the fact that thinking about who Caro was and wasn’t closest with lit a fire in his gut. “And why your first name? She only ever called you Hotch, like the rest of us.”

“That’s not true,” Hotch said, memorizing the lines on his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at Rossi.

“What isn’t?”

“She’s called me Aaron.”

“When?”

“When she was angry with me,” Hotch said. The thought of it pained him. He could hear her sharp tone, the way she hissed his name like venom. When she thought he was too cold, too apathetic.

“Or….”

“Or what?”

There was another time when she called him Aaron. Three other times.

On the worst day of his life, when he held Hayley’s body in his arms, Caro had sat next to him on the floor. People were calling his name. “Hotch, Hotch, Hotchner.”

She sat there on the ground and whispered his name just once, “Aaron.” It was quiet, like a pin dropping during a storm. But still he heard her.

“Aaron, your son,” she said.

That decision, to stay with Hayley or go find Jack, tore his soul into pieces until she spoke again.

“I’ll stay with her.”

The second time was a few weeks after Hayley’s death. Hotch wasn’t handling it well, or at all. She saw right through the façade that he had put forward. He was at the office late one night and so was she. Even when he tried to send her home, she politely refused, saying there was a lot of work she needed to get done.

He spent hours in his office, the grief and the sorrow and the shame building and building and building until he was suddenly standing over his desk. Everything here reminded him of Hayley. The baseball, the picture of Jack, even the piles of papers that were stacked high, shaming him for not being there for her more.

The only way to keep himself from crying was to let the anger take over. Anger at Foyet, anger at the job, anger at the world, anger at himself. Forgetting where he was, Hotch had dumped everything off of his desk with one sweep of his arm.

Collapsing to the ground, Hotch didn’t remember how long he sat there, leaning against his desk, hyperventilating, until Caro walked in. She didn’t say anything to him. She just lowered herself to the ground next to him, letting out a long sigh. She just sat there, breathing louder than Hotch was used to her breathing, but he found after a few minutes that his breathing began to match hers. A calmness returned to his body, at least enough to breathe normally.

“Aaron?”

He turned to look at her, the edges of his eyes lined with red.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Hotch nodded his head. He pushed himself to his feet before helping Caro to hers.

“I’ll drive,” she said, stepping around all of the things on the ground.

“What about-“

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” Caro had said. “Come on.”

She talked to him all the way back to the car. She asked if he wanted to talk about what made him dump all of his stuff on the ground. When he said no, she asked him about Jack instead. It felt comfortable to talk to her about his son, even though he tried to keep personal life and business separated. He had never really talked to her about anything other than work, except for the times when the team would go out to eat, back when Hayley would come with them. She would talk about her brother, his family, but very vaguely.

Now he supposed he knew why she was always so vague.

The third time she called him Aaron, they were on a case. Young girls being kidnapped, assaulted, and dumped. This was one of many cases just like it. Hotch couldn’t even remember what town they were in now. All he remembered was walking by Caro’s hotel room and feeling like he needed to go inside. Something pulled him to a stop outside her door that night and he couldn’t ignore it.

He knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a respond before he opened in.

Caro was still up, even though they had left hours ago. She had skipped the meal they all shared together, which was unlike her. She sat at her desk, the lamp on but not the overhead light. The case that they were working was laid out in front of her. When she looked up at him, startled that he had come in, her eyes were red and he couldn’t tell if it was all of the reading or if it was something else.

“What can I do for you, Hotch?” Caro asked, one of her legs propped up on the swivel chair.

“I….” He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. “….wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.”

Caro’s lips pulled into an amused smile.

“You never check on me.”

“Maybe now’s the time to start.”

They were quiet for a few moments until Caro let out a sigh. She patted the bed, signaling for him to sit.

“These cases, the ones with the young girls, they’re hard,” Caro told him after he sat down.

Hotch felt like a foreigner sitting there and talking to her, awkward as he sat on her bed, like it shouldn’t be him here doing this. But she seemed so eager to talk, like she was just waiting for someone to ask.

“I understand,” Hotch said finally, looking at the carpet. “They’re hard on all of us.”

“Aaron.”

At the sound of his name, he looked back at her and he could see the tears in her eyes. He didn’t realize it then, but she had been begging him to understand so she didn’t have to say. She didn’t want to have to say it.

He couldn’t sleep that night and he didn’t know why.

“She called you Aaron when she was mad at you or….” Rossi’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“Or she needs me to listen.”

“So, what does she need you to hear?”

___

“He knows her,” Hotch said suddenly, startling the life out of the half sleeping agents.

“What?” Morgan asked, sitting up.

“The unsub knows her. There is no way that he learned all of this about her at the meeting they went to. No way he could have replicated the room that she was kept in when she was a child unless he had personal information.”

“He knew everything about her…and us…before he even took her,” Rossi said, his voice laced with awe. “Which means….”

“All those other murders were about getting her here.” Hotch felt his heart restrict in his chest. “This has all been about her. She was the piece we were missing.”

“Sir?” Garcia hurried into the room, meaning she had found something. “The link between all the victims, I think I found it.”

The team turned toward her.

“Evie is the link.” Garcia swiped up on her laptop, a couple different screens popping up on the big screen. “Sarah Jordans went to kindergarten with Evie. Paulette Bobin was the daughter of the police officer who found Evie after she escaped her uncle. Robin Everard was her high school drama teacher’s niece. Celia Hough was the sister of a woman she walked dogs for in middle school. They weren’t close enough to Evie for her to recognize them, but they were all a part of her life in some way.”

Hotch looked over at Rossi and shook his head.

“It’s been about Caro all along. All of it.”

“That means that the place she’s being held is about her too,” Morgan said. “More than just making the room look the same. He’s holding her somewhere that means something to her.”

“Garcia,” Hotch said, turning his attention back to the tech analyst. “Who owns the uncle’s house now?”

“You think he took her back there?”

“She said the room looked exactly the same. Maybe because it was the same.”

“The house passed onto his wife’s son when he died,” Garcia said.

“Where is the son now?”

“He is….” They all watched her carefully, waiting for the last piece of information. “…. He changed his name just after his father’s funeral to….”

Hotch turned back to the screen, where the picture of the unsub was plastered so none of them would forget it.

“Ralph Bennet,” Morgan said, venom in his words. “The unsub.”

“How did she not recognize her own cousin?”

“His father and mother got divorced when he was young. He didn’t even know he had a step-dad who was still alive until he was dead,” Garcia said.

“So, Ralph Bennet was the step-son of Caro’s uncle. He feels like he has to punish her for taking another father figure away from him,” added Reid.

“He wants her to pay. He wants to hurt her in any way possible.”

“He’s got her at her old house.”

___

Evelyn could barely see. Her eyes were weak and tired, partially from the crying and partially from the lack of sleep. She was terrified of letting her eyes shut, of letting her guard down. She needed to stay awake, to keep her guard up. But she couldn’t take her eyes away from the red stain on the floor.

The cot mattress was itching her skin. If she could ignore the itching, she would begin to feel the sting of the metal chain against her skin. She preferred the itching.

A thud from downstairs echoed to her room. The attic. Pretending like this wasn’t that room she had been kept in for all those years was the only thing that was keeping her from breaking down, but that wall between what she pretended was real and reality was growing thin.

Breathing in through her nose, Evelyn shut her eyes and imagined herself back in her apartment, safe and warm. In her hands was a cup of tea, chamomile with only one sprinkling of sugar. It was raining outside. Not too hard, but hard enough that she could hear it pattering against the window. Her dog slept at her feet, breathing softly. In her lap was-

Another thud from downstairs, tearing Evelyn from her fantasy. She opened her eyes and looked toward the door.

“Ralph?” She called out, voice hoarse. There was no response.

When the door burst open suddenly, Evelyn yelped and jumped backward, curling her legs in on herself.

Ralph stood there, his face red and sweat beading down his forehead.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn asked, curling up tighter.

Ralph let out a growl of frustration and started toward her.

“Ralph- no!” Evelyn kicked out at him, but he grabbed hold of her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the bed. “What are you-“

“Shut up,” Ralph snapped, unlacing the chains around her wrist. “We’re leaving.”

“What-“

“I said shut up!”

He tugged down hard on the chain, making it dig deeper into the wound around her wrist. Evelyn hissed in pain, but she quieted as he told her. There was another thud from downstairs and Evelyn snapped her head in the direction of the sound. Things were slowly starting to come together; Ralph’s shaking hands, his red face, the thudding downstairs.

Evelyn looked between Ralph and the door. She sat a still as she could while his trembling hands, waiting for the just right moment. As soon as the chains were loose, Evelyn slipped her wrist out of the chain, kicked Ralph over with as little strength as she had, and ran for the door.

“Aaron!”

Her cry echoed through the house just before Ralph grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He hissed, dragging her back into the room.

“Caro?”

Evelyn gasped through Ralph’s hand at the sound of Hotch’s voice, trying to shout back. She struggled against Ralph as he pulled her back to the bed, thrashing her shoulders to try and break free.

“Agent Caro?”

I’m here, Hotch, I’m here.

Ralph threw the weak Evelyn onto the bed and backhanded her across the face so hard that her head started to spin. She stretched her jaw, blinking away the blackness in her vision.

“Evie!” From somewhere far away, she thought she could hear her best friend, Derek Morgan, calling for her. She opened her mouth to call back, but all she felt was numbness.

By the time she finally felt like she could see again, there was someone else in the doorway. At first glance, she thought it was Ralph, but he was still there in the room with her. The man in the doorway had a gun, the man in the doorway was Aaron Hotchner.

“Ralph Bennet, step away,” Hotch said.

Evelyn watched, head blurry as Ralph did as he was told, backing away from her. But he was going the wrong way. There was something wrong that way. Something she needed to tell Hotch about.

“You came for me,” she said, trying to smile.

“Are you okay, Caro?”

Evelyn could feel the headache behind her eyes begin to fade. She nodded her head once, letting her eyes close. There was something she needed to tell him, something really important.

“There’s something,” she said, shaking her head to try and clear it. “Over there-“

Before Evelyn could even finish, Ralph stepped forward and swung a bat at Hotch, the bat that Evelyn knew was in the corner. The bat that broke her ribs. That was what she needed to tell Hotch about. But now it was too late.

The bat knocked Hotch’s gun out of his hands and onto the ground. Hotch wasted no time in jumping into action, springing at Ralph without a second thought. Evelyn tried to shake herself out of her stoper. She would be no help to anyone weary. Even if malnutrition and the beating she got that morning were the cause of her exhaustion, she wanted to be of more help.

Hotch knocked Ralph backward, but Ralph held tight to the bat in his hands, using it to push Hotch backward. It was hard for Evelyn to follow the fight, her eyes not able of following every hit and swing. When her eyes finally caught up with what was happening, the ringing in her ears starting to fade, Evelyn found that Hotch was on the ground, Ralph standing over him with the baseball bat, ready to bash his head in.

Evelyn pushed herself off of the bed, her legs weak and shaking, and ran toward Ralph.

“Don’t touch him!” She growled, reaching up to grab hold of the bat.

“Let go, bitch!”

It didn’t take much for Ralph to throw Evelyn’s grip off the bat, but only by throwing the bat out of his hands as well. She hit the ground with a thud, the force rattling through her bones. Ralph immediately turned his attention back to Hotch, who was still on the ground but in a less vulnerable state.

On the ground with Evelyn were the bat and the forgotten gun, but they were all the way on the other side of the room. She didn’t know if she could make it there and back before her legs gave out.

She was laying on the ground by the edge of the bed, hearing Hotch and Ralph go at it. There had to be something that she could do. She had to do something. As she pushed herself up, Evelyn’s had grazed over the chain, the chain that had been used to keep her tied to this bed for days. Looking up at Ralph, Evelyn dug into all that bitterness and all the rage that she had been brewing for the past twenty years of her life and found some ounce of strength.

Strength enough to wrap her hands around the chain. Strength enough to pick to chain off the ground. Strength enough to stand.

With Ralph paying attention to Hotch, his back was left exposed to her. He didn’t think she had the strength left. He thought he broke her.

But she was unbreakable.

Wrapping the chain around one of her hands, she walked up behind Ralph and swung the chain around his neck. He let out a startled gasp, lifting a hand, but not before Evelyn grabbed the chain with her open hand and pulled. Ralph stumbled backward into her. He slapped at her hands. He tried to hit her with the back of his head.

But the adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her strong. She pulled tighter, tensing her hands.

Ralph gagged and Evelyn scrunched her nose. He let out a gurgling sound and Evelyn groaned as the muscles in her arms began to cramp from the tightness. But still she did not let go.

Hotch stood, his lip bleeding and his eye beginning to bruise. Ralph and Evelyn stumbled over; he fell to the ground and she landed on the bed, never once letting the chain go slack.

“Agent Caro,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

Evelyn only pulled tighter. Ralph smacked at her hands lamely, choking sounds gurgling from his throat. His legs kicked out, struggling in the same way that she had been. His legs kicked and his body twitched and his arms flailed out and he maybe felt an ounce of the terror that Evelyn had.

“Caro.”

Evelyn’s face twisted she breathed heavily, pulling tighter against the chain until Ralph’s eyes were rolling.

“Evelyn.”

She froze, looking up at him. All the tension in her face faded as her eyes met Hotch’s. She always used his first name when she needed him to listen to her, but now it was her turn to listen to him. Ralph gasped for the air that was slowly entering his lungs.

“You can let him go.”

Evelyn remembered that scared little girl she was all those years ago. There had been no other option then. It was just her, her uncle, and the knife in her hand. It was kill him or live the rest of her life in a prison. She felt like that again. Alone, terrified, trapped, cornered. There was no other way out.

“You’re safe now, Evelyn,” Hotch said. “You can let him go.”

She wasn’t alone anymore. Hotch was here with her. She wasn’t that terrified little girl with no way out. She was an FBI agent. She had grown and she had learned and she was no longer alone. Her team had come from her. Her family had found her.

She let go of the chain, pulling her legs onto the bed. Ralph heaved in lung fulls of air, but Evelyn kept her eyes on Hotch. He took a step toward them, pulling out his handcuffs. Evelyn flinched away, pulling her legs in tighter.

“These aren’t for you,” Hotch told her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Relaxing her muscles as best as she could, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I know,” she said. “I know.”

She sat there on the bed while Hotch roughly rolled a still coughing Ralph onto his stomach to handcuff him. Once the handcuffs were on, Hotch turned back to Evelyn, who was still staring at him. Her eyes were full of tears.

It was hard for Hotch to say that he didn’t enjoy beating Ralph into the ground. He shouldn’t want to keep beating the shit out of the man now that he was in handcuffs, but seeing those tears in her eyes made Hotch want to. He had been tempted to let Evelyn kill Ralph. She deserved that bit of closure. But he knew the guilt that she already carried, the guilt she would carry on top of that. He knew because he carried that same guilt.

Still, he wanted to see that monster dead. He wanted to wipe those tears from her eyes before they even had a chance to fall.

“Caro-“

“Evie!”

Morgan burst into the room, his eyebrows pinched together in worry. Evelyn tore her gaze away from Hotch at the sound of Morgan’s voice.

“Derek.” The relief in her voice as she said his name made Hotch’s stomach drop.

Morgan rushed toward the bed and dropped to his knees in front of it. He reached forward and pulled the tattered blanket on the bed up and around Evelyn’s shoulders, covering her. Evelyn just stared at him, the tears threatening to fall from her lashes. Morgan brushed hair from out of her face as a smile began to pull at his lips. His smile made her almost able to break a grin too.

When Morgan first put his arms around Evelyn, het body immediately tensed. She expected to be surrounded by Ralph’s smell, feel his clammy skin on hers. But it was Morgan’s smell; that expensive cologne she had bought for his birthday mixed with the laundry detergent he always used. He held her tight. Even when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t able to look down enough to see Ralph, which was probably Morgan’s intention. She would have done the same thing.

The adrenaline had succeeded in keeping her heart rate steady, but now that Morgan was holding her, her heart started to pound.

Hotch grabbed Ralph off the ground and hoisted him to his feet. Evelyn listened as he shoved Ralph down the stairs, Ralph grunting and groaning all the way down.

It wasn’t until they could no longer hear him that Morgan pulled away. She didn’t want to let him go, afraid that she would begin to crumble without him there. Morgan put a hand on her cheek and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s get you home.”

___

The first worst part about walking down those stairs was remembering the last time she had done this. That red stain on the floor had been there for twenty years. Evelyn had left her uncle bleeding out on the floor while she stumbled down the stairs, dazed, terrified. She knew the blood was the same because she had been covered in it too.

The second worst part was when everyone turned to look at her.

JJ, Emily, Reid, and Rossi were all in the downstairs of the house. They had holstered their guns, but Emily still had her hand on hers. The stairs were too narrow for Morgan to walk alongside her, so he held her hand as he walked in front of her. She was almost hesitant to take that final step, terrified of how the others would look at her.

When they heard the stair creak, they all turned their heads toward Evelyn. She froze, her blood running cold. She expected the concerned stares, the pitied eyes, it was all she got last time. Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to look them in the eyes.

JJ walked toward her, stopping only a few feet away.

“Can I hug you?” JJ asked.

Evelyn looked up to see that there were tears in her friend’s eyes, but a smile on her face. There was no pity, only relief.

Slowly, Evelyn nodded her head. JJ didn’t need to be told twice. She closed the distance, wrapping her arms around Evelyn’s neck. Emily was next, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of her head. Reid’s hug was awkward, shaky.

“If you ever need to talk,” he said quietly.

Evelyn nodded her head. She knew that he understood what it was like, to be taken and held against your will. She gave him a gentle smile that he returned. Rossi was the last to approach her. He had teary smile on his face as well. He didn’t hug her entirely, but instead put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her toward him to press a kiss against her forehead.

“C’mon,” Morgan said. “Ambulance is out here.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Evelyn said, looking over at him and giving a shake of your head.

Morgan raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Same old Evelyn.” He put an arm around her shoulder, as he always did. The action was simple, but it was enough to make her smile, to make her feel normal. “But yes, we’re taking you to the hospital.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes but let him lead her outside to the ambulance. Hotch was already out there, talking quietly to the EMT. Ralph must have gone in a different police car. He was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital?” Morgan said once she had a quick once over by the EMT.

“You’re not going to ride with me?” She asked. Evelyn hoped that the fear of being alone again that she was feeling didn’t show through in her voice.

“Hotch’ll go with you.”

Morgan dropped a hand on Hotch’s shoulder, who wore his usual scowl, his arms crossed. He turned toward Morgan, who raised his eyebrows and walked away.

“I’ll be right back,” the EMT said before turning and walking away.

Evelyn sat on the bed, still wearing the blanket Morgan had wrapped around her. Her stomach twisted as Hotch walked toward her. She kept her eyes at the ground, chewing on the inside of her lip. She could feel only shame as he looked at her. Maybe it was because he could see the bruises and the cuts and the blood. Maybe it was because she was at her lowest and he was her boss who should only ever see her at her best. Maybe it was because he had to talk her down from choking the life out of a man. Maybe it was some combination of everything.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, leaning up against the ambulance.

Evelyn nodded her head slowly. She would have responded with a decisive yes, but her mouth had gone too dry to talk.

“That’s a stupid question, of course you’re not okay,” Hotch muttered and looked down at his feet.

“I’m okay,” Evelyn affirmed. “I’m okay.”

When he looked back up at her, Evelyn was surprised to see his eyes were watery.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get you sooner.”

Evelyn shook her head as aggressively as she could manage.

“I knew you would come, Hotch,” she told him. “I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault.”

Hotch let out an almost bitter laugh.

“I should be saying that to you.” Hotch looked at her in such a way that made Evelyn’s stomach squeeze. “All this time, and you’re still looking after me.”

Evelyn gave him a small smile in return.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course.”

The EMT returned, telling Hotch that they were getting ready to go. He pulled himself into the ambulance and the EMT followed after him.

“Lie back,” the EMT said. Evelyn did as she was told, feeling a suffocating feeling settling on her chest as she stared up at the white ceiling. The sting of tears returned to her eyes and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to hold them back.

Her hands tensed at her side, clenching around the blanket of the gurney. Hotch, now sitting in the chair beside her, reached out and took her hand in his. She turned her head to look at him, sniffing in deeply.

“It’s going to be okay,” Hotch told her before giving her a sharp nod.

Evelyn nodded back at him, breathing in deeply. She let go of the blanket and shifted her hand around until her fingers were laced through his. She didn’t know how comfortable he was with holding her hand, but at the moment she didn’t care. She needed someone’s hand to hold. She needed his hand to hold.

She wasn’t in the hospital for very long, which she was grateful for. Garcia got there as soon as Evelyn was released and put a pair of shaking arms around her, already dissolved into tears. Evelyn laughed, grateful for her friend’s antics.

“I love you so much,” Garcia said, her tears watering Evelyn’s neck.

She had ditched the gross blanket and was currently sporting a wonderful hospital gown and Hotch’s coat.

“Are you staying somewhere? Do you need somewhere to stay? I’ve got some clothes and a warm bed and I can make you some tea-“

“I really appreciate it, Pen,” Evelyn said, “But Hotch offered me a bed already.”

Garcia stopped her rambling to stare at her, glancing behind Evelyn to where Hotch was talking to the rest of the team.

“Hotch offered-? Right, okay. That’s good. I still brought you some clothes to wear. Come with me.”

“O-okay.”

Garcia led Evelyn to the bathroom to put her in some clothes.

“As soon as they went to get you, I went home to grab you some clothes.” Garcia dropped her bag on the ground. Evelyn covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing. It was sweet of her friend, but Evelyn didn’t think she needed that many clothes for a few nights. “I hope it’s enough.”

“Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Evelyn stepped into one of the stalls and pulled a thin sweater on over her head and a pair of sweatpants. It wasn’t the cutest outfit, but it was comfortable, and it covered her ill looking body, so it would do.

Penelope was wiping tears away when Evelyn stepped out of the stall. Evelyn smiled at her and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“I’m okay, Pen.”

“Evie-“

“I’m really okay. I promise.”

Penelope let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

“Can I have a smile? It’ll make me feel better,” Evelyn said in a sing-songy, letting her hands fall back to her side.

A smile tugged at Penelope’s lips and she turned away, letting out a little laugh.

“There you go. Now the world’s right again.”

Evelyn and Penelope left the bathroom and rejoined the group just as Hotch was finishing his little speech.

“Go home, everybody. Get some sleep. We’ll come back to work on Monday,” Hotch was saying.

“Thank you,” Evelyn piped up before they turned to go their separate ways. “For everything.”

___

Hotch opened the front door of his apartment. It was dark inside, only one of the lamps were on. It was silent, still. Part of it was reassuring, the stillness. Part of it was unsettling, the quiet.

She looked back at Hotch and he nodded his head, so she stepped inside.

It felt better once she was inside. It was warm, warmer than the attic.

She had never even imagined stepping into Hotch’s home. She expected it to be stiff and cold like his office was, impersonal. But it was lively, with pictures hung on the walls and décor covering shelves full of books. Evelyn wondered absent-mindedly how much of it was Hayley’s sister or if Hotch had a secret interior designer in him somewhere. The thought made her smile.

“You’ll sleep through here,” Hotch said, his voice in a hushed tone. Jack was probably already in bed.

“Your room?” She asked, keeping her voice equally as low.

Hotch nodded.

“I’m not going to displace you,” Evelyn said. “I can sleep on the couch.”

On the couch, there was already a blanket and pillow set up.

“No, Caro. I can’t let you sleep on a couch your first day back,” Hotch said, giving his head a shake.

“Hotch, seriously-“

“Agent Caro…”

Evelyn tilted her head down and raised an eyebrow.

“Now you’re using your boss voice on me.”

To her amazement, Hotch actually smiled. He was looser here, less uptight. Something about passing into his house must have been some kind of release. Domestic Hotch was very different than at work Hotch.

“Fine,” Evelyn said. “But only for tonight.”

“I’ll be out here if you need me.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She turned down the hall as Hotch walked toward the couch. Evelyn stopped, turning to say one last thing to him, but she decided against it. He sat with his back to her, taking off his shoes. She watched him let out a deep sigh and roll tension out of his shoulders. Evelyn couldn’t help but think that she was the cause of that tension and the sooner she was out of his hair the better.

It was strange, standing by Hotch’s bed. This would be the first warm, safe bed she would be falling in to and it wasn’t her own, it was Hotch’s. It felt wrong to touch. It wasn’t hers. Even if he had said she could, it wasn’t hers. This bed belonged to someone else. Hotch’s permission didn’t feel like the only permission she needed.

On the bedside table, there was a picture. Hotch, Jack, and Hayley, all huddled together and smiling. Evelyn felt herself smiling as she looked at it. Reaching out her hand, she ran a finger along the picture frame.

“I hope it’s okay with you,” Evelyn whispered, looking at the picture of Hotch’s late wife.

They’d met a few times in the past and she was just the gentlest woman. She loved Hotch and she loved her son. There she was, staring up at Evelyn and smiling. But the only image that Evelyn had of her in her mind was Hayley’s limp body, the blood that stained her shirt.

Turning away from the picture, Evelyn pulled the blankets back before she kept overthinking. She dropped the bag that Garcia had given her onto the ground, flicked off her shoes and socks, and crawled into bed.

The warmth of the blankets was strange to her. Even her own bed wasn’t as warm as this one was. Still trying not to over think it, Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut and rolled onto her side. She breathed in deeply and was overwhelmed by his scent. With a heavy sigh, she rolled back onto her back and opened her eyes.

“Get over yourself, Evelyn,” she whispered to herself.

Breathing in slowly and steadily, Evelyn let her brain relax. She went to that safe place in her mind, that place far away. She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep, safe and warm in that room where no one could reach her.

It wasn’t until blood started to seep through the walls that she realized she was asleep.

She woke up to someone screaming. The sound echoed off the walls of the bedroom. Someone was crying.

“Caro. Caro.” Someone was calling her name. Someone close by. Someone far away.

“Evelyn!”

Her eyes snapped open, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack. The room was still dark, but the bedside lamp was turned on. The blankets were half on the floor. She had been throwing them off when she kicked her legs. Hotch was sitting in front of her. Not just sitting in front of her, but holding onto her shoulders. He had been shaking her. There was worry on his face, his eyes wide. Behind him was Jack, tears rolling down his face.

He was the one who was crying. That must have meant she was the one who was screaming.

“You’re okay,” Hotch said. “You were just dreaming.”

Evelyn lifted her hands to her face to find that there were tears on her cheeks.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said, a scowl in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head. He looked tired. She must have woken him up.

“Is she okay?” Jack asked and sniffled.

“She’s fine, Jack, go back to bed,” Hotch said. When Jack hesitated, Hotch gave him a smile. “It’s okay. Go back to bed.”

Jack nodded and shuffled out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn whispered again, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hotch said again and dropped a hand onto her knee. “You’re safe here, no one can hurt you here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”

Her hands were shaking too badly for her to say anything else. She already couldn’t remember the dream, but there was blood, so much blood. And she remembered she couldn’t breathe, like there was a chain wrapped around her neck.

Evelyn shut her eyes and put her shaking hands up to her head.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

Hotch let out a sigh. He was frustrated with her. The thought made tears sting her eyes.

“It’s not your fault.”

Even with her eyes closed, the tears still managed to slide down her cheeks. Hotch reached out his hand and rested it on the back of her neck. The contact only made her tears fall faster. She moved her hands to cover her face, ashamed of her reaction. Hotch pulled her in toward him and the closer she got to him, the harder she started to cry.

He put his other arm around her and she lowered her forehead to his shoulder, the sobs shaking her shoulders. But Hotch held her tight, one hand on the back of the neck, the other on her back.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what she was really sorry for. Sorry for waking him up. Sorry for sleeping in his bed. Sorry for invading his space. Sorry for getting kidnapped. For getting in the way. For making his life harder. For setting them back from work for days.

“It’s okay, Evelyn. It’s okay.”

At the sound of her name, she stopped her apologies. She heard her first name come from his mouth so rarely, she didn’t want to talk over him. She just wanted to hear him say it again. Finally letting her hands fall away from her eyes, she let her hands fall into her lap.  

“It’s not your fault, Evelyn,” he whispered, hesitantly letting his fingers lace through her hair.

She sniffed.

“It wasn’t your fault and none of us are upset with you,” Hotch told her.

Slowly, her breathing started to return to normal, sucking in short, gasping breaths of air, but they were steadier.

He pulled away from her, brushing her damp hair out of her face and resting a hand on her cheek. She wouldn’t look at him, still taking shallow breaths, tears still rolling down her cheeks, body still shaking.

“None of us blame you for any of it,” he told her, leaning down to try and catch her eye. “And there’s nothing that could have ever happened to you or that you could have possibly done that wouldn’t make us come for you.”

He brushed a tear off of her cheek as it slid from her eye.

“Evelyn, look at me.”

It took her a moment, but she finally managed to lift her eyes to meet his. They were wide and terrified, trembling like the rest of her body. Hotch tightened his jaw.

“We’re not going anywhere. I know your last family left you after what happened, but I promise you, we are not going anywhere.” Evelyn let out another shuddered breath and nodded her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It took a few more moments to calm her down and by the time she had stopped crying, her eyes were getting heavy.

“Sleep now,” Hotch said, slowly standing up from the bed. She was still sitting up, her head hanging and her hands in her lap.

“Aaron?” He paused at the door and half turned toward her. “Will you….”

She scowled and cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“What can I do for you?”

She breathed out heavily and looked up at him again.

“Would you stay, here, with me?” She felt stupid, asking.

But he wasn’t looking at her in pity or loathing. He nodded his head before walking to the other side of the bed.

Evelyn laid back onto the pillow, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She closed her eyes, embarrassed to see him, as if her request was ridiculous and gross. But she didn’t think that she could have fallen asleep if she was on her own.

She felt the other side of the bed dip in and the blankets rustle.

“Do you want the light on?” He asked.

“You can turn it off if you’d like.”

The light flickered off and they were shrouded in darkness.

“Goodnight, Evelyn.”

“Night, Aaron.”

___

When Hotch woke up the next morning, the other side of the bed was empty. He got used to the empty bed a long time ago, but there was a pit in his stomach this time. Evelyn should be there. She should be-

There was a smell coming from the kitchen. A pleasant smell.

Sitting up and stretching, Hotch made his way to the bedroom door. He heard laughing coming from the kitchen. When he opened the door, he had a direct line of sight to the kitchen. Jack was already awake, sitting happily at the table. There were usually only two chairs at that table, but Jack had pulled up a third.

Standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face was Evelyn. Jack was saying something to her, barely incoherent through all his laughter. Evelyn was just laughing along with him. Hotch shuffled through the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the corner of the and crossing his arms.

“What is going on here?” He asked with a smile on his face.

Evelyn and Jack both turned to him, both smiling.

“Eggs, bacon, French toast,” Evelyn said. “Want some?”

Hotch couldn’t help the smile on his face. He nodded, walking toward Jack and sitting down at the chair next to him.

It was strange, seeing Evelyn this way. She was generally serious at work, like he was. She would laugh and tease with Morgan and the girls and Reid, but Hotch was so used to her being solid, so stoic, so ready. But here she was, smiling and laughing and making jokes with him.

Evelyn walked over to the table carrying three plates of food and set them onto the table. She sat down, the biggest grin on her face.

“Dig in,” she said.

Hotch and Evelyn both knew that this happiness on her face went only so deep. Her suffering and her pain were just starting to bubble to the surface. But for now, she could eat this breakfast, laugh with Jack, pretend everything was okay.

“Would you like to watch my soccer game today, Evie?” Jack asked as they took the empty plates back to the kitchen.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, hesitant.

“That would be great, buddy,” she said before looking back at Hotch. “Would you mind?”

“No, of course not.”

Jack’s grin was the brightest Hotch had seen in a long time.

Hotch knew of course about Evelyn’s competitive nature. They had been working together for years. He had seen enough games between her and Morgan to know that she liked to win. He still somehow didn’t expect that much competition to come out of her during his son’s soccer match.

She yelled from the sidelines, cheering for Jack and shouting at the ref and even exchanging glares with other parents. It was hard not to be distracted by her as Hotch tried to coach his team, trying to keep his laughing to a minimum. When the game ended, after Hotch had a word with the players, Jack ran straight for Evelyn. He stopped just in front of her, remembering what his dad had told him about not getting too close, and grinned up at her.

Evelyn put her hand on his head and ruffled his sandy blond hair.

“You were great out there, kid,” she said. “You got the most goals on your team.”

“We, uh, don’t usually keep score,” Hotch said as he walked over.

Evelyn looked up at him with the brightest smile.

“Well, I did and your team did a great job.”

One of the other moms walked over, her daughter and Jack immediately engaging in teasing and chatting about the game as they tried to kick each other in their still guarded shins.

“My name is Mary,” the mother said, reaching a hand out for Evelyn to shake. Evelyn startled, her heart rate spiking at Mary’s sudden movement. She recovered quickly, shaking Mary’s hand.

“Evelyn Caro.”

“Are you and Aaron-“

“We work together,” Hotch said.

Mary nodded her head.

“That explains the….”

She gestured toward Evelyn’s face before pausing and forced a smile.

“Right.”

Evelyn had forgotten how horrible her face must look. She had been absently rolling the scab on her lip between her teeth all day. Her bruised and cut cheek was sore, her other eye throbbing every now and again. The battered shape of her face hadn’t even crossed her mind while she offered to go to Jack’s game.

Evelyn looked over Hotch for assistance. His smile was still there, but thinner.

“Mary, how is your husband?” Hotch asked, clearly trying to direct the attention away from Evelyn. She was grateful for it.

She listened to their conversation with a smile until Jack walked back over to them and grabbed her by the hand. She turned to look at him with a smile. He beckoned for her to bend down and she did. Jack even stood on his toes so he could whisper in her ear.

“Can you ask Daddy if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” He asked, his voice so quiet that Evelyn barely heard him.

Still, she let out a laugh and straightened her back.

“I can do that.”

Jack grinned and ran back toward his friends. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him run away. She had met Jack only handful of times in the past, but he was such a light. He meant so much to Aaron that it was impossible for Evelyn not to love him, too. The poor boy had been through so much already.

“What did he want?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn turned back around to find that not only was Mary talking to Hotch, but three other unaccompanied women were hanging around as well. She resisted the urge to tease him about it right there. Teasing Hotch was also something new. She never would have done it before. Their relationship was strictly professional.

“Jack wants to go to McDonald’s on the way home,” Evelyn told Hotch.

“Ah,” Hotch said, his hands on his hips.

“The kids always do,” a blonde mother said, no ounce of amusement in her tone as she glanced at Evelyn.

“I suppose he thought you asking would make the likelihood of me saying yes higher?”

Evelyn shrugged. The other moms stood there, laughing joylessly, but Evelyn didn’t even see them.

They did stop at McDonald’s on the way home. Jack happily sang a song to himself in the backseat, munching on his apple slices and French fries. Evelyn was sitting in the passenger seat with one of her feet propped up on the dash.

“This feels like cheating,” Evelyn sighed, staring at the fries in her hands.

“How?” Hotch asked with a short laugh.

Evelyn shrugged, shoving the fries in her mouth.

“Something about it. They’re too good, I guess. There’s gotta be a downside.”

Hotch opened his mouth to say something but she held up her hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to profile my eating habits, Hotchner,” she said.

Hotch simply laughed.

When they got back from the game, Jack went to take a nap, leaving Evelyn and Hotch alone in the apartment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited the team over to watch the game this afternoon,” Hotch said.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Evelyn said. “This is still your home.”

“Right.” Hotch nodded his head.

She dropped herself onto the couch, her eyes tired, but she had no desire to sleep, especially if the team was coming over.

But her eyes were beginning to droop against her better judgement. The apartment was quiet, she could barely hear Hotch moving around until there was the soft sound of music flitting through the room.

Hotch sat down at the table, trying to be far enough away from the sleeping woman on his couch to help her feel comfortable. Light music floated through the room as he sat, flipping through a book that he wasn’t really reading. It seemed like every three seconds, his eyes would move from his book to where Evelyn was sleeping. He justified it to himself, trying to tell himself it was just to make sure she wasn’t having another nightmare. Last night had been hard on all of them and he didn’t want a repeat. But there was something else that kept drawing his gaze to her.

She just looked so at peace. Like none of the thousands of terrible things in the world could touch her. Her breathing was short, but steady and there was almost a bit of a smile on her face. His hands were tense around the book, just waiting for her breathing to change to signal to him that she was going to a place in her mind where she didn’t want to be.

He was almost tempted to ask the others to not come to allow Evelyn the chance to sleep. But Hotch thought it was best to allow her the time to socialize with the people she loved. She needed to be surrounded by support at this time and Hotch knew he couldn’t possibly provide enough of it to be any help.

An hour and a half later, fifteen minutes before the others were due to arrive, Hotch walked over to where she slept on the couch. Again, he was tempted to just let her sleep. But he put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light shake in hopes of rousing her.

“Caro,” he whispered.

She woke with a startled gasp, her eyes snapping open. Hotch was prepared for some kind of emotional response. He was ready in case she needed his help, but after the initial shock of being woken up, she sat up normally. Rubbing her eyes, Evelyn let out a yawn.

“Are they here?” She asked.

“Not yet,” Hotch said. “Soon. I’m going to wake up Jack. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” There was a little bit of a scowl on her face as she continued to try and wake herself up. “Anything I can do to help get ready?”

Hotch was already halfway to Jack’s room, but he shook his head.

“Everyone else is bringing food. We’re off the hook for this one,” he told her before slipping into Jack’s room.

Evelyn forced herself off the couch, even though her bones were still stiff and tired. She straightened the cushions she slept on before rubbing her eyes again. She didn’t think she had dreamed, which was the first time she hadn’t in a very long time.

She was rubbing tension out of her neck when there was the first knock at the door.

Evelyn started and reached for the gun that should have been there but wasn’t. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hand still on her hip where her gun should have been. She wanted to move, but her muscles felt frozen. Eyes wide and body tense, Evelyn struggled to breathe. There was a tightness in her chest she couldn’t shake.

There was a knock at the door again, but she still couldn’t move.

“Caro, you okay?” Hotch asked as he came back from Jack’s room. “Evelyn?”

He stopped on his way to the door. She saw him standing there, staring at her, but all she could do was watch the door. Her body began to shake ever so slightly from the tension in her muscles.

“It’s just the team, Caro,” Hotch said, slowly putting his hands out toward her. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

Evelyn heard what he was saying, but something in her bones told her that it was a bad guy, someone who wanted to come in and hurt her, hurt Hotch, hurt Jack. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Caro, I need you to look at me and just breathe,” Hotch was saying, taking a step toward her. There was another knock at the door and she flinched. “Look at me. Breathe.”

Evelyn sucked in one deep breath in through her nose before flickering her watery eyes away from the door and toward Hotch. He titled his head to the side, taking on a non-offensive stance. Her eyes strained to look at him.

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Evelyn gave a sharp shake of her head, her body jerking forward but her feet not going anywhere. “I’m going to open the door. It’s going to be okay.”

He took a step toward the door and Evelyn shook her head again. Hotch turned away from her and kept walking toward the door.

“Hotch,” Evelyn said, her words just barely above a whisper.

When his hand touched the handle, Evelyn shook her head again, staring at the door unblinking. The door unlocked and the handle turned.

“Hotch-“

The door opened. Evelyn’s eyes widened even further, waiting for Ralph to be standing there on the other side.

But it was just Penelope and JJ and Emily, all grinning wildly.

Evelyn blinked her eyes hard and shook her head, dropping her hands back to her sides and relaxing her defensive stance.

“Come in,” Hotch was saying.

Evelyn forced a smile onto her face and went to greet her friends as they came in. She helped them set up the table with the food and drinks they brought.

“How are you doing?” JJ asked as she tore into the chips.

Evelyn sighed, still trying to smile.

“I’m doing okay,” she said.

“I might not be as good a profiler as any of you guys,” JJ said. “But I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

Evelyn turned to face her, leaning her hip against the table and crossing her arms.

“I am doing as well as you can imagine I’m doing,” Evelyn said. “But most of the time I’m doing okay.”

JJ put a hand on her friend’s arm and offered a small smile.

“If you ever need anything-“

“I know you’re always there for me, JJ,” Evelyn said. “I won’t ever forget it.”

JJ nodded and they turned back to the table. It was only a few more minutes before the boys arrived. After greeting Hotch and Emily, Morgan came straight for Evelyn, who was still at the table rearranging everything for the fifteenth time.

“I swear I’m going to lose it if you ask me if I’m okay, Derek Morgan,” Evelyn said, moving the napkins off the plates where she had just put them.

Morgan let out his signature laugh before throwing an arm over her shoulders.

“I know how you’re doing, so I don’t need to ask,” Morgan told her. “I just came over here to give you a hug.”

Evelyn let out a breath and turned toward him, eagerly putting her arms around his waist. There was safety in his arms. Her muscles were still tense from her moment before, and it felt impossible for her to relax and fall into normalcy with her friends. But with Morgan there, everything seemed to be at least a little bit okay.

“Keep fighting,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s how you win.”

Evelyn nodded her head. She pulled away and quickly swiped away a stray tear before wiping her hands on her jeans. She back at Morgan briefly with a strained smile, glad to see him smiling back.

“Let’s go sit,” Morgan said to her.

Evelyn sat herself on the very end of the couch, knowing how much her team loved to cram in together and not really feeling comfortable being stuck in between Morgan and JJ as they shouted back and forth at each other about their opposing sports opinions. She sat with her feet up on the couch and her knees pulled up to her chest.

Reid sat next to her, still and quiet.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey, Reid.”

He didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t really want him to. Still, she leaned toward him and put her head on his shoulder. Reid tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed.

“It’s good to have you back,” he whispered to her.

“It’s good to be back,” she whispered back.

A few minutes before the game had started, there was already yelling going on between Rossi and JJ about something Evelyn couldn’t really follow. Jack came out of his room, hair a mess and eyes looking tired.

“Hey, buddy!” Hotch said. “Come for some food?”

The newly awake Jack shook his head and hobbled over to Evelyn. She dropped her feet to the ground as he struggled to crawl into her lap. He dropped his head to her shoulder.

“You okay, kid?” she asked him, rubbing her hand up and down his back. He nodded and yawned.

A chip flew over her head that Morgan had definitely thrown at Rossi who sat in the chair next to Evelyn. Penelope was watching the commercials eagerly, shouting at everyone to quiet down. JJ had roped Emily into her argument with Rossi and Reid was telling Morgan something about some sports statistic that Morgan was desperately trying to refute.

Evelyn looked over at Hotch, who was watching them with a look in his eye that she couldn’t really read. She was usually good at reading Hotch, but every now and again, he’d get this look that she didn’t understand. When he noticed her looking, he gave her a smile and nodded his head.

Part way through the game, Jack left her lap to go and grab some food. She offered him her seat when he came back so that she could go over to the table for some food and a breather. Hotch met her there, scooping cheese dip onto his paper plate.

“Intense game,” Evelyn said, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Very.”

“Oh, come on!” Morgan yelled.

Evelyn laughed quietly to herself.

“If you need to step out-“

“I’m fine, Hotch, really,” she said, turning toward him. “Everything’s good. What happened earlier-“

“Was a completely normal reaction.” Evelyn was startled by his rebuttal interruption. “You’re allowed to have bad moments or even bad days.”

“I know that.”

“You’re also allowed to have fun.”

“I know that, too.”

Morgan stood up quickly from the couch, letting out half a expletive before remembering Jack was there and switching it up half way through.

“I really missed this, though,” Evelyn said through a laugh.

Hotch looked at her and then looked over at Morgan and let out a sigh.

“He was really worried about you,” Hotch told her, his hands tightening around the poor paper plate in his hand.

Evelyn nodded her head, looking down at the grapes in her hand.

“I thought I’d never see him again. I thought I’d never see any of you again,” she told him.

“You didn’t think we’d find you?”

“Oh, I knew you would,” she looked back over at him. “I just didn’t know if it would be soon enough.”

“Evelyn-“

“Evie, come look at this!” Penelope called, waving her over.

“Pardon me, Hotch.”

Hotch watched her walk away and kneel on the ground beside Garcia. They laughed about something. Smiling looked good on her, but he knew that it only ran so deep. He couldn’t wait for the day that smile would be real again. He just hoped he was there to see it.

By the time everyone left, the sun was almost down. They stayed long after the game, talking and laughing and throwing things at each other like a bunch of children. Penelope was the last to go, always asking for one last hug while Morgan waited for her just outside.

“I’ll see you soon, Pen,” Evelyn laughed, trying to push her friend toward the door.

“I hate leaving you,” Penelope said.

“I think I’m in the safest hands I can be.”

Penelope pulled away at that.

“You’re right.” She looked over at Hotch. “Hotch won’t let anything happen to you. You’re perfectly safe here.”

Evelyn gave her a smile.

“Exactly. Now, go. Morgan’s waiting for you.”

Penelope straightened her jacket and nodded her head.

“Right.” She turned and walked out the door. “Let’s go, Derek.”

Morgan offered one last wave, tossing an arm over Penelope’s shoulders. He sent a look Evelyn’s way that she read perfectly. If she needed anything….

Hotch shut the door and the apartment was silent. Evelyn let out a heavy breath.

“That was fun,” Jack said, laying on the couch.

“Time for bed for you, buddy,” Hotch said.

The team was generally good at cleaning up after themselves and taking the food that they had brought with them, but there was always a mess to clean up afterward. The few times Evelyn had one of these gatherings at her own place taught her this well enough. Hotch walked Jack toward his room while Evelyn turned to start cleaning.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hotch said, emerging from his son’s room as Evelyn pulled the full trash bag out of the trash can.

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing this place is a mess,” she told him.

It was these quiet moments when it was just the two of them that Evelyn felt the most exposed, the most terrified. Not that he would hurt her because she knew he never would, but just knowing that all of his attention was on her made her almost sick to her stomach.

“I’ll take the trash to the can outside,” Hotch said, walking toward her.

“Alright.”

She handed the bag off to him, his fingers just barely grazing over her hand. Evelyn elected not to look up at him as electricity crackled up her arm. She breathed in deeply and turned toward the couch.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. He took a few steps away from her and Evelyn just nodded her head.

She didn’t look at him as he left the room. With a pounding heart, Evelyn sat slowly onto the couch, shutting her eyes and breathing deeply until she dropped her head into her hands.

What was wrong with her? She had always been able to keep her emotions under control around Hotch. Always. Even when he was talking about Hayley, even when he cared so deeply about people it made him rage, even when he did that thing with his eyes that silenced even the haughtiest narcissist, even when he gave her a look that put all other looks to shame. She had always kept her cool because that was what she had trained herself to do.

But now her training was backfiring on her. Her training was making her think danger was there when it wasn’t. Her training was making her question the movements of everyone she loved. Her training was taking her sleep from her. Her training was crumbling and slowly revealing that terrified girl that lay underneath.

Evelyn opened her eyes, hoping to think of absolutely anything else than the heat in her cheeks and the pounding of her heart in her stomach.

Maybe keeping her eyes closed may have been better because as soon as her eyes were open, they landed on Hotch’s bag propped up against the coffee table. Someone must have moved it during the game. Sticking out of the top was a file. There was no name on the file, but Evelyn knew it was hers, or at least from the last job they’d done, which was hers.

Instinct took over and she bent down, snatching the yellow folding from his bag. It was thick, thicker than she’d have liked. Laying it on the table, her suspicions were confirmed as she flipped open the first page. It was this last case and the very first picture on it was the one they took in the hospital when she first arrived.

Evelyn didn’t realize how terrible she looked until just then. She was thin, trembling. Her hair was matted with blood. She looked dirty, covered in blood and bruises. Evelyn gagged, covering her mouth with her hand. That was how all of her friends had seen her that day. The thought made her shiver.

The picture just underneath it was the one they had taken when she was a kid. The similarities in the pictures made her even sicker.

She shuffled through the files, eyes scanning the pages just like Reid had taught her, until she found Hotch’s report.

She pulled it out, hands shaking as she held it in front of her. She had always wondered how Hotch managed to write these reports, summing up everything they went through during the case in just a few short pages.

Her throat swelled as she read through the beginning. She read about the women Ralph killed, how they were assaulted and murdered, how the team discovered it was Ralph. She read through them deciding to send Evelyn into the meeting to find Ralph and lure him in. She didn’t know then that he was the step kid of her uncle. If she had, she wouldn’t have gone in there empty handed.

Then she read how they had found out she was missing and what they did to find her. Her heart plummeted into her stomach, dropping from her chest like a ton of rocks. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, hoping swallow the sob that was threatening to come from her mouth. Sitting in that attic, Evelyn had wondered what the point of killing those other women was. She had spent hours pouring over ideas. She thought him running into her was an accident, pure coincidence. This case already put her on edge, seeing as it took place in the very same town she grew up in.

But the team had solved it. They had figured it out. All those women that Ralph had killed….

Tears clouded her vision, but she refused to blink. A quiet moan of distress came from her. She didn’t even hear the door of the apartment open.

“Evelyn?”

She didn’t jump at the sound of Hotch’s voice. Instead, she turned toward him slowly, those same tears gathered in her eyes.

“It’s my fault,” she said, holding the report in her hands. The tears dropped from her lashes, hitting her cheeks with the strength of a butterfly.  

“It’s not.”

“It is!” Hotch let out a defeated breath. “It says right here that-“

“That report says Ralph Bennet made the decision to assault and murder those four women.”

“Because of me!”

Hotch walked over to her and sat on the couch beside her, but not too close.

“Did you kill those women, Caro?”

“No, but-“

“No, you didn’t.”

“Hotch, he killed them because I knew them. He killed them because he knew it would lure me in. If I hadn’t-“

“What? If you hadn’t what?” She was quiet. “If you hadn’t killed your uncle? You did what you had to do to survive, Evelyn. No one will fault you for that.”

“If I hadn’t….” she trailed off, staring at the paper with her teary eyes.

“If you hadn’t come with us to solve this case? More women would have died.”

“I fell right into his trap,” she whispered, her hands tightening around the paper. “I didn’t even know he existed, and he knew me well enough to set the trap and just wait for me to walk right into it. I can’t believe I was that stupid.”

“Do you want to know what that tells me?”

She looked up at him.

“You returned to a town where you had been traumatized to help bring justice to these women. You went into that meeting trying to catch a killer. You stayed alive long enough for us to find you using clues that you gave us.” Evelyn sniffed, wiping the underside of her nose with the back of her hand. “You’re not stupid, Evelyn. You’re the bravest person I have ever met.”

She looked over at Hotch again, her lower lip trembling.

“They died for me,” she said and took in a shaky breath. A tear slid down her nose. “How do I repay them for that?”

Hotch was quiet for a moment and heaved out a sigh, just allowing him time to think of a proper answer.

“You live,” he told her. “You survive this and carry on for them.”

Evelyn closed her eyes. She was hearing him and her brain was telling her that he was right, but her heart wasn’t believing him. She couldn’t believe him.

Without saying anything, Evelyn pushed herself off the couch and made for the door, hoping to escape before he could see the tears that were threatening to run from her eyes again.

“Caro, where are you going?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“I need some air,” she replied as she struggled with the lock on the door.

“I’ll come with you.”

“I need to be alone right now,” she said, finally getting the door open.

Hotch put his hand on the door and pushed it shut. Evelyn froze, keeping her hand on the doorknob.

“You’re not going anywhere by yourself.”

Evelyn turned around slowly. Hotch was looming over her, his hand still on the door to keep her from opening it again.

“Let me out, Hotch.”

“You’re not a prisoner here, but you’re not going out there alone.”

She stared at Hotch unblinkingly. Evelyn’s breathing started to speed up, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but it wasn’t anger or fear that made her heart rate spike.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?”

Evelyn knew she was poking the bear, but she felt like she had to. Poke the bear yourself, make it roar on your terms before it decides to do it itself.

“Why can’t I go out there alone? You think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, I know you can-“

“Then why won’t you let me leave?”

“Because I want you to be safe.”

The calmness of his voice made her even angrier. It made her want to poke harder.

There was a gaping wound in her soul and it was still gushing blood. Hotch was trying to patch it up, help her to heal, but he was getting too close to the only thing that kept her breathing. He was getting too close to the wound and she was terrified of the idea of him seeing her, feeling her, so she recoiled. She would snap at him until he left her alone. Until he left her wound bleed in peace.

“Why did you come for me?”

“Why did we come for you?” Hotch repeated, astounded by her question. “You’re part of the team. Why wouldn’t we come for you?”

“I’m not asking about the team, Aaron. I’m asking about you.”

Hotch straightened at the sound of his first name. She knew why. She’d done it on purpose. She needed to convince him she was angry. That was the only way to keep him at bay.

“I couldn’t just let you rot there; the team needs you.”

“The team?” She let out a bitter laugh before pushing past him and stalking into the middle of the room. “It’s always about the team with you, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“I could have died in that house, Aaron, and all you can come up with is the team needed me and that’s why you came?”

She hated the taste her words left in her mouth. She hated saying them. But she had to. She had to push him away if she had any hope for surviving. She had tied her heart to his and if she didn’t severe it now….

There was real anger in his eyes at her words. Finally, an emotion. A chink in his armor.

“If you had died in that house, I would have killed that bastard myself!”

Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath. It was so rare to see an emotion on Aaron Hotchner. In the last few days alone, she had seen more from him than she had ever seen in all her years working with him; fear, joy, grief, anger, relief. And it was mostly because of her.

“Enough with the team needs me bullshit.” Evelyn dropped the tone of her voice. “I’m going for a walk.”

She turned her back on him and walked toward the front door. She made it all the way there, her hand on the doorknob before Hotch spoke again.

“I need you.”

Evelyn froze, her hand glued to the doorknob as if it was ice and her hand was burning hot. Her blood ran cold and her heart stopped in her chest.

“What?”

“You don’t accept that you’re a vital member of the team as a worthy reason for us to come and help you? Fine.” There it was again, anger in Hotch’s voice. His dark eyebrows were pulled together. “I need you.”

Evelyn had started this argument because she needed to keep his hands away from the wound she was nursing, the wound that every breath seemed to tear open a little bit more. His kindness and compassion were just insult to injury. But his sincerity in this moment punched through every wall around her wound that she had been attempting to build up in the last few minutes.

He said it like he would say any other truth. He said it like he would say anything during a case; without a hint of uncertainty.

She turned toward him. For the first time in a while, she felt no shame as tears glimmered in her eyes.

“You mean it?” She asked, pulling on the edges of her sleeve.

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

“I mean when, Emily-“ Evelyn stopped herself and cleared her throat. “No. You haven’t.”

Hotch stood there, clearly not wanting to say anything else that would set her off. Evelyn bowed her head, let her hand fall away from the doorknob, and she crossed the room, putting her arms around his waist before he even realized that she was coming toward him.

Hotch was frozen for a second, her change in mood so rapid that he almost couldn’t register it. Evelyn’s eyes were screwed shut as she prayed that he wouldn’t reject her embrace, though she could understand if he did. But, eventually, he put his arms around her, pulling her in closer and she could finally relax.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, letting the tears stream down her face, fast and hot. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he told her, his words just as quiet.

“Please don’t give up on me.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m trying.”

Hotch knew from the report what happened with her parents after she had escaped from her uncle. He knew how they turned their back on her in the following months. She had come back to them after four years, after killing her father’s brother, and she wasn’t the little girl they had lost anymore. They reported anger issues, lashing out, screaming and hitting and breaking things. They told authorities they couldn’t handle her anymore. They just didn’t know what to do.

But Hotch also knew that she was a child who was cut so deeply by someone she trusted and that she deserved to be loved and protected by her family no matter what. No matter how loudly she screamed, no matter the mess she made, they should have loved her. They should have fought for her just as hard as she was fighting to survive. He wouldn’t abandon her like they did.

“I promise not to give up on you if you promise me not to give up on yourself,” he told her.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Promise,” she said.

___

The following months were hard. Moving back into her own apartment where it was quiet and the silence was deafening was the hardest part. When there was no one to wake her from her nightmares or hold her while she cried, when there was no Jack to make her laugh even when she wanted to cry, when there was just her and the mirror. She hated being back home. She wanted to back at the Hotchner’s, but she knew she couldn’t impose on them any longer.

There were days when her promise to Hotch was the only thing that kept her going. He had made her promise not to give up on herself and she would be damned before she disappointed Hotch again. So, she fought, tooth and nail, just to stay afloat. Some days, that looked like lying in bed and letting the tears fall. Some days, that looked like calling Morgan or Penelope and asking them to play a board game with her. Some days, that looked like running until she couldn’t breathe. Some days, that looked like dancing around her apartment at 3 am.

Slowly, she began to remember what it was like to feel alive. And she started to love it again.

The day she came back to work, the smile on her face reached deep into that wound in her soul. It wasn’t healed, but it was better. It didn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

The team acted like she knew they would on her first case. Hotch didn’t let her go anywhere by herself. Someone had to be by her side at all times. It was suffocating, but she knew it was for the best.

By the time the case was finished and the guy arrested, Evelyn almost felt like herself again. This is what she was meant to be doing. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting by herself in her room all day, wasting away. The field was in her blood. It was part of her.

They all went out to dinner that night and everything was right in the world again. Evelyn used to sit in her apartment, Hotch and Morgan and Garcia sending her updates as they went. She knew when she got the triple text that the case was over that they’d be going out to eat, celebrating, having a laugh to cope with everything they had seen. And she would sit in her dark apartment.

But now she was in the right place. They went to a pub downtown. She ordered fries and a coke with a little cherry on top. Morgan made fun of her for smothering her fries in ketchup. She stole a bite of Emily’s pasta as she talked to Rossi. Life had returned to normal, and it was just what she needed.

The next few cases went the same way. Hotch began to trust her being alone again, allowing her to have the space she needed to do her job. There were cases where she needed to step into the bathroom and cry. There were times when she stayed behind with the local police because she couldn’t even think about going in without panicking. And the nights in her apartment alone were the worst.

But as long as she was on a case with her team, things were actually okay. She could push away her fear and the anxiety that made her bones rattle and her muscles freeze. She could go back to be Agent Evelyn Caro, where she was at her best.

Almost a year passed. Evelyn knew that the anniversary fear was a thing, but she was determined to be fine. The case they came in for was the farthest away from anything that could remind her of what she went through. Men were being taken and killed. The pattern was easy to solve, the profile quick to figure out. Everything was going to be okay.

Until Hotch and Evelyn were hunting the killer on their own. Evelyn was walking through a suspect’s house with her gun drawn, knowing that Hotch was upstairs doing the same thing. There was a thud coming from the second floor.

“Hotch?” Evelyn called out. “You okay?”

There was no reply. Her heart started to seize.

“Hotch?”

Walking toward the stairs, her gun drawn, Evelyn told herself to breathe. She would be no help to Hotch if she was panicking. She took one step up the stairs before a sudden and sharp pain exploded against the side of her head, sending her into the wall, knocking her unconscious.

When Evelyn woke up, she was in a basement. Her head squeezed and ached, jaw stiff. She shook her head and forced her eyes open.

Sitting across the room from her, still unconscious, was her boss.

“Hotch!”

Evelyn scrambled over to him, barely standing at all before she dropped to the ground next to him.

“Hotch, hey, you good?”

She saw him breathing, so that was something, but he was unresponsive to her voice. She shook his shoulders, but still he slept.

“Please don’t fire me,” Evelyn whispered before pulling her hand back and slapping him across the face.

Hotch gasped and his eyes flew open, his body falling over to the side.

“Oh, thank God,” Evelyn breathed.

“Did you slap me?” Hotch asked her, sitting back up.

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

“So you slapped me?”

Evelyn shrugged as Hotch rubbed his jaw with his hand.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” he told her. Evelyn felt herself almost smile. “Where are we?”

Evelyn looked around the basement and let out a heavy breath.

“Not sure,” she said. “We got the profile wrong, didn’t we?”

Hotch nodded his head and used the support beam in the middle of the room to push himself upward.

“There was a woman. I thought she was hurt, but….”

“She got the drop on the mighty Aaron Hotchner? I’m impressed.” Evelyn teased, needed to joke about something before her brain exploded from the pain or the panic she felt growing in her bones took over completely.

Hotch looked down at Evelyn with a stern look that told her maybe joking wasn’t his favorite way to cope with being kidnapped. Evelyn pursed her lips and pushed herself onto her feet.

“Lions got me, I think,” Evelyn told him, using the support beam to keep her standing.

“So there are two of them and one of them is a woman.” Hotch breathed out a sigh. “How does that change the profile?”

“We know that the men were chosen because Lions wanted something they had.”

“Position, status, money-“

“A certain woman.”

Hotch turned to look at Evelyn, who was scanning the basement as if it would hold the answers. There were blood stains on the ground. This was definitely where the victims were killed. There was a door at the top of the stairs, but if these guys were any good at what they did, the door would be locked.

“You think his partner could have been the wife of one of the victims?” Hotch asked.

Evelyn looked back at him and shrugged.

“A wife, a girlfriend, a sister, a daughter. Maybe the person he wants to take her from isn’t even dead yet, but he’s the reason Lions is killing.”

“Why would she help him?”

Evelyn breathed out again.

“Maybe she feels trapped where she’s at and he’s got her convinced this is the only way to save her? If she feels completely dependent on him, she might just do whatever he says.”

“Even kill?”

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders again, but they both knew that the answer was yes. A woman caught in a corner was just as capable of killing as anyone else.

“Well, that’s good then,” Hotch said, putting his hands on his hips.

“How is any of that good?”

“It means I’m the one they want, not you,” Hotch said.

Evelyn’s eyebrows pinched together.

“That really doesn’t sound good, Hotch.”

“You can get through to the partner, Caro,” Hotch said, walking back toward her. Evelyn narrowed her eyes even further at him.

“Maybe, yes.”

“Good. That will get us out of here.”

He turned away from her again. He pulled off his blazer and loosened his tie and the temperature in the room raised about fourteen degrees. Evelyn had to shake away her imagination before responding.

“And what are you going to do?”

“What they brought me here for.”

___

“Please, stop!”

The female unsub, Rosalie, held tight to Evelyn’s arms, holding her back as the male unsub, Jeremy Lions, pounded his fist into Hotch’s face.

“You think you’re so strong,” Hotch laughed, taunting Lions. “Don’t you?”

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“You have to stop him,” Evelyn said to Rosalie. “No one else can get through to him.”

“He’s doing what he has to to keep us safe,” Rosalie whispered to Evelyn, but despite the strength in her arms, her voice was weak. “Your friend just needs to give in. It’ll be easier that way.”

Lions hit Hotch again and Evelyn cried out, pulling against Rosalie.

“Shut her up, Rose!”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie whispered in Evelyn’s ear, holding her right from behind. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No!” Evelyn struggled against the woman holding her, jerking her shoulders in hopes of breaking free.

“You really think that any of this will earn you manhood, Lions?” Hotch said with a laugh, turning the unsub’s gaze back onto him and away from Evelyn.

Lions hit Hotch in the face again.

“Stop it, damnit!”

Lions whirled around and backhanded Evelyn in attempts to get her to quiet down. Rosalie gasped and let Evelyn fall to the ground.

“Jeremy! You said we wouldn’t hurt her!”

Lions let out a growl and grabbed onto Rosalie’s arm, dragging her out of the basement and leaving Hotch and Evelyn behind.

“You need to get through to Rosalie, Caro,” Hotch said as soon as she took a single step toward him.

“I am,” she huffed. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “She doesn’t want me to get hurt, that much is clear. If she associates you getting hurt with me getting hurt, she’ll push for Lions to hurt you less.”

Hotch nodded his head once, stretching out his jaw.

“You trust me, right?” Hotch said.

“Of course.” Evelyn’s response was immediate.

“Good.”

That night, they slept in the basement on opposite sides of the room, even though it was freezing cold. Saying they slept was an over exaggeration. Evelyn could barely even close her eyes. It was the cold that kept her eyes frozen open, but it was also the reality of it all. She was trapped, once again. She was a prisoner, once again. She was at the mercy of a man, once again.

And Hotch was here but she had never felt more alone.

The door creaked open and Evelyn sat up with a gasp. She shuffled backward, away from the door, but it was just Rosalie walking down the wooden stairs. The woman locked the door behind her, but still flinched.

“Hi,” Rosalie whispered as she neared. There was a cup and a plate in her hand. She watched the sleeping Hotch as she walked by, only turning her attention back to Evelyn once she passed him.

“Hi,” Evelyn whispered back, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“I…I’m not going to hurt you,” Rosalie said. She lowered herself to the ground a few feet away from her. Rosalie set the cup and the plate down and scooted it closer to Evelyn.

Evelyn looked between the food and the woman.

“You need to eat.” Rosalie’s voice was soft. Kindly.

Evelyn straightened her back and lifted her chin, giving a slight shake of the head.

“I’m not hungry.”

Rosalie let out a sigh and turned to look over at Hotch, who still slept soundly.

“Saving it for him won’t do anything for either of you,” Rosalie said, almost sadly. “Only one of you is making it out of here. I think you know which one it’s going to be.”

___

“Here, eat.” Evelyn pushed the plate of cold potatoes and toast in his direction, the cup of water sitting on top. Hotch raised an eyebrow at her. “Rosalie came in last night. Brought us some food.”

“Did you eat?” He asked her, sitting up from his sleeping position.

Evelyn nodded her head.

“Caro-“

“I ate, Hotch,” she said, a little more harshly than she meant to. “You need to keep your strength if we’re going to have a repeat of yesterday.”

Hotch almost laughed as he hooked his finger over the edge of the plate and slid it toward himself. Evelyn watched, her stomach gurgling as he took a bite out of the bread.

“Stale toast is just ravishing, isn’t it?” Evelyn asked as she leaned up against the wall he also sat against. Hotch hummed his response. He ate slowly, took a sip of water.

“How are you?” He asked.

Evelyn rolled her head against the wall to look over at him.

“Just peachy, Hotchner. How are you?”

“I’m serious. How are you doing?”

Evelyn let out a sigh, looked up at the ceiling, and closed her eyes.

“Taking it one breath at a time,” she said. “I’ll deal with the aftermath once we’re out of here.”

Evelyn looked over at him again and attempted a half-cocked smile. Hotch wasn’t smiling. He was staring at her, staring right through her smile and her outer shell of calmness and straight into her soul where her wound was, her wound that was slowly starting to heal.

“I’ll be okay, Aaron,” she said, dropping her smile. “Promise.”

Hotch nodded his head and turned away from her.

“Don’t do anything stupid today, Caro,” he told her.

“Do I ever?”

___

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Hotch sighed as Evelyn let out a hiss of pain.

“I didn’t realize that trying to stop you from dying was considered something stupid.”

“It is when you get put in harm’s way.”

Evelyn held a strip of her shirt against her bleeding nose. Hotch rolled up his sleeves.

“We’ve got two days left here,” Hotch said, pacing back and forth in front of Evelyn.

“The team will find us,” Evelyn replied. She lowered the piece of her shirt and scrunched her nose before stretching it out again.

“I don’t doubt it.”

The sun went down sooner than Evelyn thought it would, meaning she had slept longer than she thought she had.

“You should sleep,” Hotch said.

“I’m not tired.”

“He won’t hurt you, Caro.”

The dark concealed Hotch’s face from her, even though he was only a few feet away. Evelyn shifted uncomfortably.

“I know.”

“If I don’t make it out of here-“

“Hotch, stop. We’re both going to walk out of here just fine.”

“But if I don’t, promise to take care of Jack.” Evelyn breathed in deeply, ready to shake her head and tell him again that they were going to both survive this. “Promise me.”

Instead of arguing, which she knew would get them nowhere, Evelyn nodded her head.

“I promise.”

Hotch didn’t say anything else. Evelyn didn’t sleep. The change in his breathing after a while told her that he had fallen asleep.

She didn’t know how long it was before the door creaked open. Evelyn startled and sat up straighter, gasping in a breath. But it was just Rosalie, coming down with more food. This time, she didn’t say anything. She sat right next to Evelyn and set the food between them.

“You have to eat,” she said finally.

Evelyn reached out and took the cup of water and brought it to her parched lips. She drank some, but set it down before it was finished.

“You don’t have to save it for him.”

Evelyn turned her head to look at Rosalie.

“He’s my friend. I’m not going to let him starve.”

Rosalie was quiet for a moment.

“I think he’s more than that.”

“How did you meet Jeremy?” Evelyn asked. She thought she saw a smile on Rosalie’s lips.

“I lived with my brother and his wife as their live-in nanny of sorts. Jeremy worked for them as a gardener. My father kept me locked up my entire life and when he died, my brother took over. His sister’s keeper or something. But Jeremy he…. he made me feel free and alive and seen. And so, so loved.”

Rosalie stopped there, her smile lingering for a few moments before falling.

“But he changed, didn’t he?”

Rosalie nodded her head slowly, her lower lip curling and tears starting to run down her cheeks. Evelyn just let her cry for a few moments, until the woman collected herself. She sucked in a sob and stuffed her hands full of her dress.

“He took me from my brother’s house, brought me here,” Rosalie said. “Said he needed my help.”

“He used you to lure in men that he saw as superior to himself so that he could kill them.”

Rosalie nodded again, tears still rolling from her eyes.

“I never wanted to…I tried to tell him that I love him as he is…that he doesn’t need to-“

“Rosalie, listen to me. Nothing you could ever do will convince him of that because his issues have nothing to do with you,” Evelyn said, turning to face her.

“I don’t….”

“Jeremy Lions may love you, Rosalie, but he is very sick. He is not killing people to be a better man for you, no matter what he has told you. He feels inferior so he thinks he has to kill to be superior. That’s why he wanted Hotch.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

Evelyn heaved out a breath.

“Hotchner is everything Jeremy thinks he’s lacking. Confident, strong. He’s got a high-ranking job. He’s respected by his peers. He’s good looking and has a nice home and great friends. Jeremy doesn’t think he has any of this and he wants it, which is why he wants to hurt Hotchner.”

“To take something he doesn’t think he has.”

Evelyn sucked in a breath and reached forward to take Rosalie’s hands in hers.

“No matter what you do, Rosalie, you will never be enough for him, do you understand? He has you, he has love, but that will never be enough for him.”

“No, no!” Rosalie stood up quickly. “No. Once we’re married, everything will be okay. We’ll buy a new house. Live a happy life.”

“Rosalie-“

“No! You’re wrong.”

“Rosalie….”

“You’re wrong!”

Rosalie hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Evelyn shut her eyes again. With a growl, she pounded her knuckles into the hard concrete ground.

“You okay?”

Hotch was barely awake, his voice gravelly and tired.

“I’m okay, Hotch, go back to sleep.”

He grumbled something and was soon asleep again. Evelyn could do nothing but sigh. Still, she didn’t sleep.

The next day went no better than the last. It was night again before Evelyn knew it. She sat on the ground, head between her knees. Hotch stood, leaning up against the support beam in the middle of the room.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said. Evelyn didn’t move. “Talk to me.”

“I told you, I’ll deal with it after we get out of here,” she told him, her words muffled by her knees.

Hotch walked toward her and let out a groan as he lowered himself to the ground.

“You can sleep,” he told her, his words even quieter than they were before. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

Evelyn lifted her head finally to look at him.

“That’s not why I’m not sleeping,” she said, which was partially a lie. She didn’t sleep because she needed to be aware at all times. She couldn’t risk nodding off and letting her guard down. But there was another part to it.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked her.

“I thought I was going to die alone in that house, Aaron.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Twice. I stay awake because I can’t stand the thought of dying alone. And if you die while I’m sleeping-“

Hotch reached out and took her hand in his. When she looked over at him, he was staring straight ahead, not looking at her. She let out a shaky sigh and let him lace his fingers through hers. It was all the comfort that she needed.

“You’re not going to die alone,” Hotch told her. “You’re not going to die here at all.”

Evelyn nodded and let a few of the tears in her eyes fall, grateful for the darkness to cover her face. She lowered her head slowly to his shoulder, damning all protocol to hell, if there even was protocol for maybe dying in a basement with your boss. When Hotch didn’t immediately pull away from her or shake her off his shoulder, she settled in and shut her eyes.

“You’re not dying here either,” she said. “Not if I can help it.”

For the first time in days, Evelyn slept.

She awoke to someone grabbing hold of her hand. Her first thought was that it was Hotch squeezing her in his sleep. But when she gasped and opened her eyes, she found that it was just Rosalie sitting in front of her. It was still dark outside. She thought that the woman had brought her more food, but she turned out to be wrong.

“We have to go,” Rosalie whispered. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“Shh, shh,” Rosalie put a shaking finger to her lips and pulled on Evelyn’s hand. “You were right. We have to go now.”

Rosalie pulled Evelyn to her feet, dragging her toward the door before she was even fully awake.

“Wait, stop,” Evelyn whispered, trying to shake herself awake.

“No, now! This is the only chance you have.”

Rosalie dragged Evelyn out of the basement doors and up the stairs into the house above. It wasn’t the same house that Hotch and Evelyn had been searching before, she could tell that even in the dark.

“Where are you taking me, Rosalie?”

“You have to get out of here, now! Jeremy doesn’t want to kill you, but he will,” Rosalie said, pulling her through the rundown and dirty home.

“Stop. Stop!” Evelyn dug her heels into the ground and forced Rosalie to stop. “I’m not leaving Aaron.”

“You don’t have time!” There was nothing but pure desperation in Rosalie’s voice. “Jeremy knows I left. He’s coming here. You have to go now or you’re not going at all.”

Evelyn wrenched her arm out of Rosalie’s grip.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Jeremy will kill you.” Rosalie sounded desperate, terrified.

Evelyn shook her head and took a step backward.

“I don’t care. I’m not leaving him.” Rosalie’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Go. Call the police. Tell them where we are.”

Rosalie nodded her head.

“Go.”

Without another word, Rosalie turned around and ran from the house.

Evelyn watched her go. Her heart rate spiked when headlights flashed through the front window. All she could do for Rosalie was hope that she found some place to hide until Lions entered the house. If Lions was here, this was it. He was coming for Hotch.

Evelyn ran back to the basement as quietly as she could. She shut the basement door, hearing it lock with a heart wrenching click, just as the front door opened. She hurried down the stairs and dropped to the ground next to Hotch, startling him awake.

“What’s going on?” Hotch asked, still sounding stuck in sleep.

“Lions is here,” Evelyn whispered to him. “Rosalie is gone, she’s calling the police.”

“How-“

“We need a plan and quick,” Evelyn told him.

“We don’t know how long it will take for the police to respond,” Hotch replied quietly, his voice surprisingly calm. This might be his last few moments on earth, and he wasn’t terrified or angry or anxious. He was just calm. “All of his attention will be on me. You can escape then.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“This isn’t a time for heroics.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Before Hotch could argue, Evelyn pushed herself to her feet.

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, standing after her.

“Like you said, Lions’ attention will all be on you. He won’t be expecting me.”

“Caro-“

She sunk into the shadows just as the door of the basement opened. Lions trudged down the stairs, grumbling to himself.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward Hotch.

“Where’s the girl?” Lions asked, his voice low and gruff.

Hotch was silent.

“Doesn’t matter,” the unsub grumbled to himself. With his back to her completely, Lions started for Hotch. Evelyn would make sure he never reached him.

She crept out from her shadows, walking toward Lions. The ever present ache in her head from when Lions knocked her out didn’t even stop her. She was silent as she moved until she was right up behind him. In one quick motion, Evelyn kicked the back of his knee, dropping him to the ground before wrapping her arm around his neck.

Lions struggled against Evelyn. He was strong and she was weak from days with little food and water as well as the head injury. But she held on as tight to his neck as she could.

Hotch ran to check the basement door, but Lions had closed it, leaving it locked.

As he did so, Evelyn was so focused on keeping her grip on Lions, that she didn’t see his hand moving toward his pocket. He pulled out a knife and rammed it into her shin. She cried out, falling back and away from Lions.

“Evelyn!”

Hotch turned away from the door and ran back toward her as Lions stumbled away. Evelyn fell back against the support beam, lowering herself to the ground as she pressed her hands against the cut on her leg.

Hotch ran toward Evelyn, but Lions intercepted him. Fire spread throughout Evelyn’s leg, dark blood seeping through her fingers. She clenched her jaw in hopes of easing the pain. Hotch and Lions tumbled, a blur of bodies that Evelyn once again couldn’t distinguish. This scene was all too familiar to her.

Hotch was trained, but he was weak. Lions relied mostly on his size and strength, but lacked any formal training. Evelyn needed to get back into the fight, that was the only way Hotch would win this.

With a groan of effort and a sharp stabbing pain shooting through her leg, Evelyn forced herself to stand. Using the support beam as her support as well, she allowed herself a few moments to breathe through the pain before lurching forward.

Lions had Hotch pinned against the wall, his arm across his chest to keep him there. Evelyn hurtled toward Lions, pushing through the pain in her leg and barreled into him. This knocked him off balance. Being unable to stop herself once she started, she and Lions tumbled over each other until they were both on the ground. Hotch started forward to help Evelyn to her feet, but Lions had an arm around her waist and the knife pressed to her neck before either of them could really react.

“Back off,” Lions said, his voice even more gruff than before. Blood dribbled down from a broken nose and he wheezed, telling Evelyn that Hotch had hit him enough times near the diaphragm to knock the wind out of him.

The cool of the metal knife pressed against Evelyn’s throat didn’t scare her. Especially when she met Hotch’s gaze. That dead calm he always put forward she now felt flow through her veins. Everything was going to be okay, she could see it in his eyes. Evelyn breathed as shallowly as she could, trying to keep her throat from extending too far into the knife.

Lions pushed himself off the ground and brought Evelyn up with him. The knife cut into the first few layers of her throat and Evelyn flinched, feel the cool of her own blood dribble down her neck. Hotch put his hands in the air, trying to show that he meant Lions no harm.

“She’s not a part of this,” Hotch said. “You know that, Lions.”

“She’s a bitch is what she is,” Lions snapped, pressing the knife harder against Evelyn’s neck.

Hotch flinched forward and Evelyn shut her eyes.

“You want me, Lions, not her.” This was the calmness that Evelyn had never understood before. Her negotiation skills had never been good. Hotch said that she was too emotional. She cared too much and it was too easy to read in her voice. But Hotch was too good at pretending not to care at all. “Let her go and I’ll go with you.”

“No, Hotch-“

“Shut up,” Lions seethed in her ear. “You don’t get to talk.”

“Is that how you treat Rosalie, huh?” Evelyn asked, her hands on his arm that held the knife to her throat. “You call her a bitch and tell her shut up?”

“Be quiet!”

Evelyn could feel blood soak into her shirt, weighing it down.

“Lions, look at me,” Hotch said, pulling his attention away from Evelyn. “You can let her go.”

Evelyn felt her wounded leg start to grow numb and her balance shifted. In not too long, she wasn’t sure that she would be able to keep herself standing upright.

The door behind them burst open and Evelyn let out a gasp. Lions flinched and loosened his grip on her just enough that she broke free from him and stumbled forward, right into Hotch.

“Jeremy Lions, drop the knife and put your hands in the air!” Emily Prentiss said, her voice deep and commanding.

Evelyn’s leg gave out, every ounce of weight put on it causing a shooting pain up and down her entire body. Hotch held her up by her arms, her back pressed against his chest. He was the only thing keeping her standing and she could barely even do that.

Lions didn’t turn around, but he put his hands up in the air.

“Rosalie did this,” he said, his voice deadly low.

“Drop the knife, Lions,” Emily said again.

“You turned her against me.” Lions shifted his angered eyes away from Hotch and onto Evelyn. “You did.”

“I don’t want to shoot you, Lions, but I will.”

“You turned her against me!”

Lions took half a step toward them, the knife now facing her. Hotch turned Evelyn away, preparing to step between them, but Emily fired a single shot, the bullet tearing right through Lions’ shoulder. He fell to the ground with a cry of pain, the knife falling out of his grip.

Evelyn, still unable to stand on her own, turned to Hotch, her neck still bleeding.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, noting the bruises on his face.

“Are you guys alright?” Emily asked, her gun trained on Lions.

“We need a medic,” Hotch said. Emily nodded her head, her eyes flickering down the cut in Evelyn’s shin and neck.

Emily relayed the information through her earpiece, as well as saying the offender was down. Evelyn stayed leaned up against Hotch, his hands clinging to her arms to keep her steady, as Emily took Lions away in handcuffs.

Morgan and Reid came running into the basement along with the paramedics.

“Evie,” Morgan stepped toward her and she just smiled.

“We’re okay,” she told him.

“Ma’am,” the paramedic said. “Let’s get you to the ambulance.”

The paramedics stepped forward, one taking hold of Evelyn. The other moved toward Hotch.

“How are you feeling?” the paramedic asked him.

“Can you make it to the ambulance?” the paramedic asked Evelyn, who nodded her head.

“I can carry you,” Morgan said, stepping forward. Evelyn let out a quiet laugh.

“I can manage on my own, Derek,” she told him. Still, he followed her and the paramedic, his hands out just in case she started to fumble.

They helped her up the stairs and she looked back at Hotch, to find that his eyes were still on her. He nodded her head and she smiled at him.

The pain that flared throughout Evelyn’s leg was white hot, but with the paramedic taking most of her weight and Morgan just behind her, Evelyn was able to make it to through the house and to the ambulance without letting a single tear fall from her eye.

Hotch came out of the house a few minutes later, the paramedic still trying to get him to sit for a moment while Reid filled him in on everything they missed in the case.

“I’d like to speak with Rosalie,” Hotch said.

“She’s over here,” Reid said.

Hotch tried not to look over at the ambulance where he knew Evelyn was. He still had a job to do and he couldn’t focus on that if all he could think about was whether or not she was okay. He knew she was okay. She was always okay.

Rosalie sat in the back of one of the cop cars, her eyes closed and silent tears running down her cheeks. Hotch popped open the door, but she didn’t look at him.

“Is he alive?” she asked.

“He’ll survive,” Hotch told her. Rosalie let out a shaky breath and slowly opened her eyes. “Why did you help us?”

“I didn’t help you,” she said, looking away from him and toward the ambulance. “I helped Evelyn.”

Hotch scowled.

“She loves you, you know?”

Her words startled him and Hotch felt ice run through his blood.

“What?”

“She loves you. I gave her food at night but she’d only eat part of it, saved the rest for you. And last night I came to take her somewhere safe before Jeremy came back to kill you, but she refused to leave. I almost had her out of that house, but she ran back in. For you.”

Hotch looked down at his feet. He didn’t really expect anything less of Evelyn Caro. She always put everyone’s lives above her own. He shouldn’t expect her to act any different toward him.

But anger still bubbled up inside of him. She could have gotten herself killed and for what? She should have left him there and ran to get help. She should have….

“You better be damn sure you’re worth it.” Rosalie’s words were venom and Hotch could feel their sting deep in his blood.

Hotch shut the door, leaving Rosalie to her silence and grief. He turned to look at the ambulance, just as Morgan was stepping into the back. The paramedic shut the door, closing Hotch off from Evelyn. The siren started to blare, and the ambulance rolled out of the driveway.

“They’re taking her to the hospital,” Prentiss said, walking over to him. Hotch nodded his head. “Lost too much blood to just let her come back with us.”

“She kept antagonizing him,” Hotch said as he placed his hands on his hips. “If she had just let me go with him-“

“Caro was protecting you, sir,” Prentiss said. He looked at her, scowl deepening. “She knew that as soon as Lions had you, he would kill you. She had to make sure that didn’t happen.”

Hotch watched the ambulance as it drove away, the sirens ringing.

He never got the chance to ask if she was okay.

___

Evelyn lay back in her bed at the hotel, staring at the ceiling. A bandage wrapped around her leg and it itched, making it impossible for her to sleep. There was something else keeping her awake. Her mind reeled, the last few days playing over and over in her head. Trapped in a room with Hotch for days on end was the perfect time to talk to him about all the things that were bothering her, but even then, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t even know where to begin because she didn’t even know what she was feeling anyway.

Sitting up with a huff, Evelyn glowered into the darkness. She threw off her blankets that were making her too hot, lowering herself onto the ground and landing on her good leg. She hobbled over to her discarded clothes and threw them back on.

Air was what she needed. A breath of fresh air. And then she’d be okay. She could go back to pretending that everything was fine and normal, like she always did.

As she pulled a coat onto her shoulders, she opened the door and froze.

Hotch was standing there, wearing a broken down version of his usual suit. His tie and jacket were discarded, his shirt buttoned up sloppily. She wondered if he had ever even gone to bed. And he was standing in front of her door, his hand not even raised to knock. He was just standing there.

He looked at her with wide eyes, shocked to find her there.

“Um, hi,” Evelyn said, dropping her hand from the doorknob.

“I just wanted to check to see how you were doing,” Hotch said.

“Hotch, it’s like three in the morning.”

He looked down at his hands. He was actually fidgeting. Something had made him motivated enough to come here, but nervous enough not to knock.

“I know. I can go-“

“No, wait.” He froze. “I never got to ask if you were okay.”

Hotch nodded his head.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.”

They stood there in silence. Evelyn felt her throat tighten every time she wanted to say something. Hotch wouldn’t look at her. The silence seemed to drag on for eternity before Hotch finally broke it.

“I talked to Rosalie, after everything, and she said something,” Hotch said. Evelyn finally put her eyes on him.

“What…what did she say?”

There were a thousand terrible things that Evelyn could think of that the woman could have possibly said to land her standing in front of her boss at three in the morning.

“She said that you had a chance to leave that house and you came back,” he told her. Evelyn straightened her back. This was going to be a lecture, she could just feel it coming. She just didn’t know why it couldn’t wait until morning. “Why?”

Evelyn scowled and looked at the ground, her hand still on the door.

“Why?” She repeated. “Because I couldn’t leave you there.”

“You should have.”

Evelyn felt her temper begin to rise. What was it with this man?

“A ‘thank you for saving my life’ would suffice,” she said, her tone harsh. “If I hadn’t come back, Lions would have killed you. From where I’m standing, I made the right decision.”

“And got yourself hurt in the process.”

“I’ll survive.” Hotch fell quiet again. “Listen, Aaron, if you’ve come to pick a fight, I think it can wait until morning.”

Evelyn took a step back and started to close the door, but Hotch lifted his hand and stopped it from closing. She looked over at him, jaw tightened, and found him staring back at her.

“I’m not here to pick a fight with you,” he said.

“Then why did you come?”

She could see the question rattling around in his brain, as if he had been asking himself that very same question ever since he left his room.

“I’m sick of this, Aaron,” she said finally, when he didn’t answer. “I’m sick of neither of us being able to say what we really mean. I’m sick of running in circles around each other. Just tell me why you came here.”

“I came to make sure you’re okay.”

“Mission accomplished then. I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She started to close the door again and this time he didn’t stop her.

“Rosalie also said you loved me.”

Evelyn froze, the door almost shut so she couldn’t see his face anymore. Which was good because it meant that he also couldn’t see hers and the fear that was etched into every feature. Her breathing became heavy, like every breath took so much more work. She closed her eyes, and slowly started to open the door again.

“Rosalie said that?” Hotch nodded his head once. “Did you believe her?”

He was quiet for a moment, letting out a long but quiet sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a profiler. Tell me, what do you think?”

He took a while to answer.

“I think you’re a deeply compassionate person who cares for the team. I think you would give your life for any one of us in a heartbeat.” Evelyn looked down at her feet and Hotch tried to follow her eyes with his. “I know that you would never do anything to jeopardize the dynamics of this team because we’ve become your family.”

“Okay.”

“So, I don’t know how much of what you say and do is because the team is your family and how much is because-“

“-I love you.”

The words came from her mouth like any other fact would. She had known it for so long, never said it, not even to herself, but she knew it. And she managed to say it so casually. She was just completing his sentence after all.

Hotch stood still, as if trying to decide whether or not she was finishing what he was saying or confessing. He searched her eyes, but she stayed motionless. It was time he figured things out for himself, she decided. They’d both spent so long trying to figure the other out, it was high time someone just made the first move.

“When you were at Ralph Bennet’s house,” he said finally, “I had these horrible dreams about finding you there already dead. I was too late to save you.”

Evelyn could have sworn there were tears glimmering in his eyes.

“You did though, Aaron. You did save me.”

“But was I too late?” He asked. “Did I wait too long for…everything else?”

“What do you want, Aaron?” Her voice was just at a whisper, her hand still on the door.

It was the last time she would ask. This was the last time and then she’d let it go, let him go. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life, however short that might be, pining after one man.

Hotch surprised her then. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t try to talk. Talking was clearly getting him nowhere. Everything he said somehow came out wrong. Instead, he took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. Putting a hand to her cheek, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

His answer was clear. It took her a few moments to over come her shock, but when she did, she reached out to grab hold of his shirt collar, pulling him in closer.

She pulled him into her room and shut the door, leaving the hallway empty and quiet.

Her room was still dark as he moved her backward, his hands never leaving her. He thought he had lost her. But here she was, with him, and that’s all he needed.

“You,” he whispered against her skin. “Just you.”

Every raging fire that made up Evelyn Caro met the calm seas that built Aaron Hotchner, burning and boiling and soothing in every possible way.

He kissed her lips, her bruised cheek bone, her jaw. His hands rested against the side of her neck, gently though, so as not to irritate her wound. She tugged at his wrinkled shirt, trying to pull him closer.

Hotch knew this was breaking protocol. But he left behind every rule in the book when he left his room two hours ago. Every inch of contact with her made his stomach twist, every time her teeth grazed his lip made his heart pound. For so long he had wanted her and for so long he had pretended otherwise. He was so, so tired of pretending.

He was pulling off her shirt and she didn’t stop him and he didn’t stop himself, but he couldn’t. He just needed all of her.

Evelyn gasped, her intake of breath so sharp that Hotch pulled away. She breathed raggedly, her chest rising and falling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes moving to her neck.

Consumed by her, he had forgotten the shape she was in. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.

“I’m not that fragile,” she told him. There was a smug look on her face, her lips twitched up into a smile.

Hotch leaned forward to kiss that smile, soft and gentle. His hands dropped to her waist and he kissed her again. He intended to pull away, leave her be for the night, but every time he tried, he came back to her like a magnet.

Evelyn had just as hard as a time keeping away from him. His calloused hands were grazing over her sides, her waist, her stomach, her back. Her hands were trembling as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Her heart pounded like a drum beat in her chest, so hard that she could hear it in her ears and it made her hands shake.

She expected him to stop her, to realize what he was doing and take her hands a politely decline, but when the last button came undone, he pulled away from just long enough to take the shirt off himself.

Hotch put his lips back on hers as soon as he could. Evelyn smiled against his kiss.

As if she had burned him, he suddenly stepped away, leaving Evelyn leaning against the wall, heaving for breath. He stared at her, his own breath ragged, his dark eyes smoldering.

“Is something…did I…?”

Shame pooled in Evelyn’s cheeks, making them burn. There she was, completely and utterly exposed, barely able to stand well enough on her own to scurry away.

“You’ve had a very hard year, Evelyn,” he said.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at the ground, locking her jaw.

“Hotch….”

“And I can’t take advantage of-“

“Aaron!” She said with a laugh, forcing him to look at her. “I’m fine. This is fine, more than fine.”

“Is it what you want?” he asked.

She gave a small smile and heaved out a sigh.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said. “Have I ever done anything I haven’t wanted to?”

Lifting a hand, she curled her finger, beckoning for him. He stepped toward her until he was just a breath away.

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” she said to him, just above a whisper.

Evelyn reached up and kissed him again. It took him a few moments to respond, but once he accepted what she said, he leaned into her.

He placed a hand on her chest, right over her heart.

And for once, in a very, very long time, that wound in her soul didn’t feel so gaping.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #hurt/comfort #tw: abuse #tw: violence #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #idk what else to tag this so that more people see it #because it took me three weeks to write #this is literally a quarter of a novel what am i doing with my life #anyway #i hope you guys enjoy

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 5

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader 

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drinking, angst

summary -  “Please,” he said, staring you straight in the eyes. “Don’t go.” 

a/n - i really love this chapter! cant wait to hear what yall think :DD also for reference i aged jack down just a year so hes 3 when haley passes away, about to turn 5 when reader & aaron get together. i dont claim any dialogue straight from Emma as mine! (emma dialogue is in italics) 

masterlist / series masterlist / read it on ao3 

chapter 4 / chapter 6 

-----

You were hyper-aware of the new way the team was looking at you as you entered the conference room. You shot a very anxious glance up towards Aaron, grateful for the very brief- but soft- glance he gave you before the business side of him took over again. You could feel the ghost of his hand hovering over that protective spot on your back again as he led you up towards the table. 

It felt like your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, upon seeing the seemingly endless piles of photos in front of you. Your brain was struggling to process everything that was laid out in front of you and you felt your heart rate start to pick up; seeing it in person was worse than anything your mind had created in the drive here. 

“Y/N.” 

Your eyes shot up to meet the voice and you saw Spencer looking down at you with a look that was just on the edge of pity. “We tried to sort the pictures into piles of time relativity. Would you be able to go through them and help us create a firmer timeline?” 

You nodded at that, vaguely aware of Aaron pulling a chair out behind you. You gladly slid down into it. Seeing Emily start to pick up one pile and push them towards you made you nervously laugh, the stress of the moment and how uncomfortable you felt forcing it out. When the entire team gave you a weird look you said, “Sorry, it just reminded me of last time.” 

You gently picked up the stack of photos, trying to hold them as lightly as possible. The knowledge that the unsub had packaged these himself sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it was silly, but you somehow felt that by touching the photos you were somehow also touching the remnants of the unsub. 

The first stack you easily dated as around four years ago, just from your hair; you’d drastically changed it for a role. You thumbed through the photos and could feel the knots in your stomach growing even tighter. Most of the photos were blurry and relatively distant from you, as if the unsub was still getting comfortable with what he was doing. 

“This was four years ago, I had to change my hair for a role and I’ve never had it like that before or again.” You said quietly, pushing the pile back to Emily. 

She nodded, giving you a gracious smile before pushing the next pile towards you. Your face fell immediately; something the team equated to how much more personal these set of photos seemed to be. You fanned the stack out in front of you. There weren’t many, as if even the unsub could recognize the inappropriate- ha!- nature of capturing you like this. In all of them you looked worn down, as if a cloud was following you everywhere you went. 

“This was about two years ago.” You said flatly. It took a moment, but you could see everyone connect the dots in their head and suddenly the room felt very small. 

Thankfully, the next pile was rather average and you guessed that this was just an ‘extra’ pile of photos that didn’t really seem to fit into a cohesive timeframe. As you scanned over them, one caught your eye and you pulled it a bit closer to you. You pointed a finger at the sign behind you. 

“This is an exclusive club house, it’s difficult to get into. Security’s intense and everyone that enters has to sign in.” You informed the team. JJ reached out and grabbed the photo, putting it to the side for later.

You turned your attention back to the pile, making sure to give each photo a proper amount of attention, desperate to notice something useful. 

“This one,” you said, pulling a blurry photo of yourself out of the pile. You were moving too fast for the camera to properly capture you, but you recognized the outfit. “I was wearing this the day Officer Reynolds told me you all were coming, isn’t this the outside of the station?” You said quietly.

JJ moved that photo to the ‘save for later’ pile as well. You gently re-stacked the pile and passed it towards Emily, waiting for the next one. 

You watched as Emily seemed to be literally holding her tongue as she pushed the next pile towards you, a certain playful glint in her eyes. Once you were able to look at it, you couldn’t help but snort. You could feel Aaron tense up besides you, but you could find the humor in it. The ‘Aaron’ pile. 

You fanned the stack out like you had done with the others, giving special attention to the details behind you. These were much more difficult to place and a much smaller pile, considering how careful the two of you had been. 

“These must’ve been in DC?” You questioned, not really expecting an answer. You looked up towards Aaron, raising an eyebrow as if to give him the opportunity to share his thoughts. “Whenever he came to LA, I had an iron grip on our security but it was a whole different field in DC-” 

Your sentence fell flat as your eyes went wide, nearly surging out of your seat up towards Aaron. He gave you a worried look, unable to place the sudden anxiety that had taken over you. “What about Jack?” You asked worriedly, “if he knows about you he must’ve found out about Ja-”

Aaron stopped you, putting a very gentle hand on the top of your shoulder, “He’s okay, I promise.” He said, using his hand to lightly push you back into a seated position. You nodded at that, eyes still wide, but your body seemed to deflate, the tension slowly leaving you. 

The rest of the team was quiet, recognizing the personal nature of the interaction. But it was impossible for them not to notice the way your bodies reacted to each other. The way your body’s natural response to a stressor had been to move closer to him and the way he angled himself in a protective stance around you near simultaneously. 

Emily pushed the final pile in front of you and you couldn’t help the corners of your lips pull up in a soft smile. You fanned out the stack of photos, taking a good look at all of them. They all seemed to either be promo photos or film photos of your time filming Mamma Mia in Greece. 

“This is definitely from Greece. But some of these are definitely promo photos, it’s why I’m ‘posing’ in a few of them.” You said, pushing out one that visually made your point. 

“What about this one? It feels a lot more intimate than a promotional piece.” Emily asked, pulling one out from the stack. In it, you were standing on the dock, face close to the camera. You had a big smile on your face and your thumbs up. 

“On set, we had a handful of little disposable cameras that everyone could use.” 

“Do you have any memory of who owned the cameras?” 

“I…,” you paused, eyebrows scrunched tightly in thought, “I don’t know. The studio distributed all the photos after the movie came out. They’re pretty public at this point, it was five years ago.” You said weakly, feeling really disappointed in your lack of help. “I’m sorry.” You added. 

Morgan stepped up closer to the table. “Don’t be okay? Now we know that the unsub has connections in Hollywood and we know he must be wealthy enough to fly to DC on a whim if he thought you were there. That helps narrow things down.” He assured you. 

“Are there any specific photographers that you’ve noticed? Or any guy you feel like you’ve seen too many times and it’s no longer a coincidence?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head quickly. “I’m really used to cameras flashing in my face.” You said impishly. “I can remember a lot of fans that I meet, but if it’s just someone behind a camera I don’t think I’d really notice it at all.” 

You felt Aaron move away from you and towards the computer at the end of the table. He clicked a few buttons and suddenly a woman's face popped up on the screen. You recognized her immediately from all the stories and photos you’d seen. Penelope. 

Aaron brought the computer closer to where you were and her mouth dropped open for the second time today. 

“Oh my god! Hi! Wow! I am, I am such a fan. I just-, you’re always so-” 

“Garcia.” Aaron interjected but you raised your hand at him, giving him a ‘shoo’ gesture. The rest of the team had to stifle their laughter. 

“Hi, Penelope right? I’ve heard so much about you.” You said sweetly, leaning a bit closer to the camera. 

“Wow! Okay, I can’t believe this is-” 

“Garcia, I need you to pull up visitor logs from a clubhouse that Y/N used to visit. I want you to cross reference it with other visitor logs of recent film sets she’s been on and her housing development. She’ll be able to give you a more comprehensive list.” Aaron interjected, and this time you let him. 

You turned back to the screen, giving Garcia another smile. “The clubhouse is called Royal Blue, the picture couldn’t have been more than…, I think three years ago? But I’m not sure.” 

“Alright…, okay the visitor logs seem to be locked tight, but never too tight for me. What are some of those movie sets?” 

“The earliest photo is what? Five years ago?” You asked, looking around at the agents for approval. “Yeah, five years. So Mamma Mia, to start, Little Women. I’m working on Emma right now.” You droned, listing various movie sets you’d worked on in the past five years. 

“Oh my god! I have so many questions about Mamma Mia. Like what was it-,” Garcia’s question trailed off as she caught sight of Hotch giving her a firm stare from behind you. “Right sorry, alright. I will break into the clubhouse and cross reference all of these lists to see if anyone comes up more than once. It was so nice meeting you, I hope we get to-. Alright, hanging up now!” Garcia said in a rushed voice. You watched her click a button on her end and the screen went black. 

You leaned back into your chair, staring up at the rest of the team . “So…,” you said, drawing out the word, “what now?” 

-----

“What are you doing?” Aaron’s asked, voice coming out from behind you. 

You comically froze, hand just short of picking your keys up from the table. You slowly turned to face him, straightening your tote bag over your shoulder. “Oh! There you are, I was just on my way to come find you.” You said lightly, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. Aaron didn’t say anything, waiting for you to go on. “Johnny and I have plans tonight.” You said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world  

On your part, you’d already forgotten about the whole ‘I’m on a date’ aspect on your earlier phone call with Aaron. In your mind, there wasn’t anything inherently suspicious about you going to spend time with him in the evening.

Aaron was viewing the entire situation in a very different light. When he had first come around the corner, he noticed how nice you looked. When the two of you had finally returned to your place you immediately went up to your room, disappearing for quite some time. He had originally thought maybe you were upset, the cognitive interview hadn’t revealed anything and even though he knew you didn’t really believe in their accuracy, he also knew how badly you wanted to be of ‘use’ for the case. 

In your time upstairs, you had changed your outfit and styled your hair just enough to give it that ‘unstyled-styled’ look. It’s not like you were glammed out or anything, the only reason you’d put on a nice outfit was on the off chance you were photographed- hopefully not by the unsub-, on your way into Johnny’s apartment. 

“And what is it that you’re supposed to be doing?” Aaron asked, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. 

“Um, nothing much,” You said with an awkward laugh, when he was still looking at you expectantly you tilted your head. “I’m supposed to go to his place and we’re gonna run lines for the scenes we’re filming this week.” You explained. 

“I can’t endorse you going out at night. Especially to someone’s home that we don’t have eyes on.” Aaron said firmly. 

You rolled your eyes at that, picking up your keys. “Johnny’s fine, he’s been in the same place as me when nearly all the bodies were discovered.” You argued, putting one hand on your hip. 

“With the recent development in the cases, I can’t let you do this.”

You started to walk towards him, intending to go around him. “Aaron-” 

His hand shot out and gently grabbed you by the arm, stopping you from getting past him. 

“Hey!-” 

“Please,” he said, staring you straight in the eyes. “Don’t go.” 

Your mouth fell open slightly in a mild form of shock. ‘We’re just running lines, I really need-” 

“I’ll do it with you.” Aaron interjected hurriedly. “We’ve done it before, I’m not too bad at it, huh?” He said teasingly. 

You pondered that for a minute. You and Aaron had run lines together plenty of times in the past, it was always something you got a kick out of, seeing Aaron try and morph into whatever character he was reading for. And while it wouldn’t be as productive as running them with your actual co-star, you reasoned it’d still be good enough. And as much as you hated to admit it, Aaron probably had a point about you not going out, especially in the evening.  

“Fine. I just need to go call Johnny and tell him something came up.” You huffed, pretending to be more annoyed than you were. 

“Here,” you said, reaching into your bag and pulling out your script, “I already have most of my lines memorized, I’ll just need you to fill in if I miss any. I have a pink sticky note denoting the scene we were going to start with. You’re reading as Knightely. I’ll meet you in the living room, alright?” You said, pushing the script into his hands as you walked around him towards the kitchen, pulling your phone out at the same time. 

----

“No, I’m just saying I think it’d be more believable or whatever if we did a few more like nonchalant meals before like, running errands together or something, ya know?” You said lazily into the phone, holding it between your ear and shoulder as you used your hands to mix up a drink for yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you caught sight of the Dalmore. You reached out with one hand and carefully pulled it down, still remembering exactly how Aaron liked to take a drink. 

“What meal really screams ‘we’re dating’? Dinner? That’s like the longest meal of the day, that’s gotta show some sort of commitment.” Johnny asked. 

“Hm…,” you droned, “well we just had a lunch. If we want to kick it into high gear, we should do breakfast. Perfect ‘just spent the night’ remedy.” You said with a snort. 

Aaron cleared his throat behind you and the sound made you jump. You pulled the phone away from your ear and saw you’d been blabbering for nearly half an hour. 

‘Oh. Sorry.’ You mouthed to Aaron, before pulling the phone back to your ear. “Hey Johnny gotta go, but we’ll figure it out later! Yeah…, for sure, bye!” You hung up and placed your phone on the counter. Then you grabbed the drink you had poured for him, holding it out. 

“It’s Dalmore.” You said plainly. 

“I’m working.” He responded. 

You rolled your eyes at that and held it out more aggressively. “Take it.” 

You watched happily as he begrudgingly took it out of your hand, though you knew it wasn’t too difficult for him. You picked up your own glass and tucked your phone into the waistband of your pants. “Ready? Sorry, got carried away.” 

While the two of you walked back into your living room, it was obvious something was bothering Aaron. You briefly wondered if something had developed in the case that he wasn’t telling you. 

‘What is it?” You asked. 

He looked down at you, confused. “What is what?” 

“Don’t play dumb, you have a tell.”  You explained, stopping to look up at him.  

“I do not have a tell.” Hotch replied annoyedly. 

“Yes you do.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“If you want to be a baby about it, fine you don’t have a tell. Tell me what’s wrong anyway.” 

“I’m trying to understand why you lied about not having a boyfriend nor seeing anyone recently. We’ll need to fully vet Johnny and look into his files, even if you don’t see it becoming serious.” Aaron near spat.

You snorted. “What do you mean lied?” 

“You very clearly told me you weren’t seeing anyone, yet today has proven those claims to be false.” 

“I know that sometimes, I like to be a huge pain but I’m serious, what are you talking about? I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“Your co-star, Johnny? You told me you were on a date with him today. I just heard you on the phone make plans to stay with him overnight. I saw the pictures of-” 

“Stop! Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually believed that.” You said, unable to hold back the laughter that bubbled out of you. 

“Believed it? You’re the only who told me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed you read through the lines. Johnny and I have been going on publicity dates. We’re just friends.” 

“What were you supposed to be doing tonight then?” 

“We were legitimately going to run lines. Maybe get ice cream, we’re trying to determine the best ice cream in LA.” 

That’d explain the outfit, Aaron thought. 

“And the phone call I just heard?” 

“We were debating which meal screams ‘dating’. He thinks it’s dinner. I think it’s breakfast, ya know, cause it implies you spent the night.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that, before.” 

“Don’t you remember when I had kinda the same thing with Timothee during Little Women? They made us hang out a bunch so the tabloids could just do their thing. I just assumed you’d fill in the blanks.” 

Aaron was staring at you as if you had two heads. It was almost like you could see the gears turning in that head of his. Internally, he was more than embarrassed for how upset he’d gotten over the idea of you with someone else. 

When it seemed that Aaron had nothing else to say, you started to walk again, not stopping until you were both back in your living room. You plopped down in ‘your spot’ on the couch, playfully patting the space a few cushions down that Aaron typically sat in. 

“Crack open that script, I hope you looked through it. If you’re making me stay home, you better be useful!” You said pleasantly, trying to change the atmosphere into something more playful. 

Aaron awkwardly sat himself down on the couch next to you, picking the script back up. As you watched him flip the script open and further acquaint himself with the lines you couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang in your chest. It was such an unavoidable reminder of the way the two of you used to run lines together when you were still dating. You had learned early on that Aaron best showed his affection through acts of service and he actually wasn’t that bad at delivering a line. Since the two of you were rarely together in person- it’s not like you’d let him waste a visit with you building a shelf or running an errand-, running lines with you was the easiest way for him to feel useful. 

-----

Four Years Ago

“Okay Jack, you ready?” You asked, smiling down at the young boy standing across from you. He was dressed up in his winter clothes, despite the blazing heat of the summer. You and Aaron had tried to talk him out of it, but he demanded it’d be the only way for him to fully get into character. And who were you two to deny him? The sweet boy nodded, barely being able to contain his excitement as he bounced up and down on his feet. 

“Alright, places everyone!” You yelled out, holding the diy paper clapperboard Jack had made for you. You held it out from your body and did a very exaggerated clapping motion. “Action!” You said, quickly throwing the clapperboard to the couch. 

“Carrots!” Jack said, his voice more than enthusiastic for the role. 

“Huh?” You said, heavily overselling your voice and reaction. Even with the one simple word, Jack was already in giggles, struggling to keep it together. 

He leaned in closer to you, standing up on his tiptoes. “Behind you!” 

“Oh! Right, excuse me.” You said, stepping to the side and gesturing to the ‘carrots’ behind you. 

You made your voice really low to play the next part. “Woh, a real howler in July, yea? Where ever could it be coming from?” You asked, placing your chin in between your thumb and pointer finger. 

Jack kept giggling at your ‘deep’ voice, he held his ‘script’ up to his face to read his next line. “The North Mountain.” 

You jokingly ran a hand in front of your face, signaling a character switch. “North Mountain.” You stage whispered. You ran your hand in front of your face again, going serious. “That’ll be forty.” You said, holding your hand out with a ‘gimme’ gesture. 

Jack smacked your hand gently to ‘give you’ the money. But after his face fell ever so slightly. “Can we skip to when Daddy gets to come in??” He asked, giving you those big eyes you couldn’t possibly say no to. 

You stood back, putting your weight on your back leg with one hand on your hip. “Hmm.., I think that could be arranged.” You reached over to grab the clapperboard. “Alright everyone! Back to places, but let’s start at ‘Hi everyone’, okay?” 

Jack nodded excitingly and turned back to where he knew Aaron was standing, partially hidden by the hallway. “Places daddy!” He urged, pointing to where he should come stand. 

Aaron came out from around the corner and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hold in the laughter. Aaron had a big white hat on his head and had let Jack put a small orange dot on his nose. You and Jack had definitely double teamed poor Aaron, dragging him into your little ‘movie game’ as Jack liked to call it. The three of you had started doing this a few months ago, Jack loved ‘running lines’ with you and you were more than happy to oblige him. It had started when a sleepy Jack had stumbled into the living room one night when he couldn’t sleep and he saw you and Aaron running lines for one of your other movies. Jack had taken to it so much you ended up ‘hiring’ him to help you with your more child friendly roles. 

“Alright, alright. Quiet on set!” You said, making a big deal of you bringing your index finger up to your lips in a ‘shush’ motion. “Action!” 

“Hi everyone. I’m Olaf. And I like warm hugs.” Aaron recited robotically , very clear that he was reading directly from the paper. You smacked your hand back over your mouth, unable to control the giggles. Once you started laughing, Jack fell into his own fit of laughter; both of you fueled off the others amusement. 

Of course, when you finally pulled yourself back together, a quick look at the way Aaron was standing with fake annoyance across his face and his arms crossed tightly against his chest sent you back into fits of laughter. 

“Are you two done?” Aaron asked, no true malice in his voice. 

It was rare that the three of you all got to spend time together. He’d been wary of introducing you to Jack. It wasn’t really a ‘you’ thing, but it was more of how Jack would be able to deal with it. There were the typical worries, what if you and Jack didn’t get along? Or what if you two did get along really well but then you and Aaron broke up and it hurt him even further? While you never intended to try and replace his ‘mom’, you still worried that your chaotic schedule would somehow hurt him, skewing his perception of yet another ‘parental’ figure. Not to mention the issues with him being able to keep your identity and presence in his life a secret; he wouldn’t even be able to tell people like Uncle Rossi that his dad was seeing someone. 

But now, you’d been with Aaron for over two years. And Jack had known about you for about a year now. And everything had been going perfect. Jack was a stellar secret keeper, the unfortunate events of his childhood maturing him faster than any child deserved and he was able to fully understand the importance of the situation. The two of you had taken to each other quite quickly and every night the three of you would have a ‘bedtime’ call; even on the nights when Aaron was busy with a case you’d still call Jack on your own. You loved spoiling him with whatever hot new toy was popular among kids his age or getting him special early copies of movies before they came out. Aaron used to get on you about it, saying it wasn’t necessary, but you argued it was the most necessary thing in the world. 

And now here the three of you were. Nestled away in Aaron’s apartment in DC. You had just flown in after wrapping up a shoot abroad and were just in time for the start of summer. Even though your career was at a seemingly new high, you had managed to secure a relatively empty summer. After long consideration and planning you and Aaron decided it’d be a nice treat for Jack to go spend a month or so with you in LA. You’d consulted heavily with many of your friends who kept their children completely hidden from the spotlight and had hired an airtight security team to assist you the entire time. Aaron was supposed to come out when he could, but you were all aware of how turbulent his poor schedule could be. Schedule permitting, you all would spend the next three days at Aaron’s apartment before you and Jack took off. 

“Daddy! You sound like a robot.” Jack said, scolding Aaron. His voice brought you out of your thoughts and you looked down at him with a big smile. 

“Daddy’s just no good at this huh?” You asked, shaking your head. “He’s no match for our talent, Jack!” 

“This is really hot.” Jack said, holding up his arms. He must’ve been sweating his butt off in all those winter layers. 

“You’re kidding me! I wonder who could’ve seen that coming.” You said sarcastically, reaching over to pull off his big hat and zip down the first of multiple jackets he put on. “I’ve heard that ice cream cools you down…,” 

“Ice cream!’ Jack exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. He didn’t even look to his father for ‘permission’, knowing by now you had the most sway in the house. 

“Go put on some normal clothes okay? Wouldn’t be fun if you passed out in your ice cream bowl, huh?” You told him, ruffling his hair before he dipped under your arm, making a mad dash for his room. 

“He hasn’t even had lunch yet, you know that right?” Aaron asked, giving you a fake stern look as he walked over to where you were standing. 

You rolled your eyes at that, reaching up to snatch the white hat off his head, letting your arms fall loosely around his neck. “Does it upset you that I’m always the cool one?” You asked teasingly, reaching up on your tiptoes to press the gentlest kiss on his lips. 

He gave you one of his small smiles, reaching down to press a second kiss to your lips. “How was your flight in?” He asked, one of his hands wrapping protectively around your waist as the other one found its way by your hair, gently stroking down it the way you liked. 

You let your head relax against his touch and pretended to think for a moment. Instead of answering you reached up again, pressing your lips against his, pressing yourself closer to him. You both thought you could stay this way forever; it being the first time you saw each other, in person, in nearly two months. 

“Gross!” Jack’s voice seemingly cut through the two of you. Aaron was the one to pull away first, quietly laughing so only you could hear. 

“Later.” He promised in a whisper. 

You loosened your grip on him, turning to face Jack. “Oh Jack! Funny seeing you here, ice cream, right?” 

----- 

Present Day.

“Page 103, right?” He asked, skipping to the bright pink sticky note you had used as a place marker. 

You jolted out of your memories, feeling the heat rise up your neck as you prayed it wasn’t too obvious you had just completely zoned out. 

“Yep!” You squeaked out, “page 103, line 19, you start.” You said, waving your hands. 

“And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my enemy, you will not ask me why, you are, you are determined, I see, to have no curiosity but I cannot be wise-” He started, keeping his eyes near glued to the page. 

You frowned, shaking your head a bit. “Stand up.” You ordered, already getting to your feet. 

“Excuse me?” Aaron asked. 

“Stand up,” you repeated, motioning upwards with your palms. “This,” you said, motioning between the two of you, “doesn’t feel right if we’re seated, we’re supposed to move around in this scene, it’s supposed to be painful.” You explained. 

He slowly stood up, looking at you for permission to start again. 

“From where you left off, please.” 

“I must tell you, Emma, what you will not ask! Though I may wish it unsaid the next moment-” 

“So do not speak it.” You cut in. “If you wish to speak to me, as a friend or to ask my opinion as a friend I will hear whatever you like.”

“As a friend, Emma. That I fear is a word, tell me Emma. Have I no chance of ever succeeding?” He asked, looking up at you for further approval, you nodded and he continued. “My dearest Emma, my dearest, you will always be my dearest most beloved Emma, tell me at once. I cannot make speeches, if I, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more-” 

“Let’s do a different part, yeah?” You interrupted, voice incredibly tight. You ducked from his gaze, reaching to bring your glass to your lips. 

“Isn’t this the scene you have to practice?” Aaron asked, raising his brow at you. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, taking a long sip, “any practice as the character will be helpful.” 

“If this is the one that’s troubling you, we should go over it.” He pressed. 

“Page 56, start at line 9.” You ordered, throwing back the rest of your glass. “Read it over, I’ll be back.” 

Before you could fully turn to go and refill your glass, Aaron lunged forward and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him. The sudden movement caused you to stumble, throwing your hands out to steady yourself against his chest. 

“You’ve been drinking a lot.” He stated, repositioning his grip on your arm. 

“Am I not allowed to have a drink or two in my own home?” You challenged. 

“What are you running away from?” Aaron asked, his voice so gentle it made your knees weak. 

“You.” You whispered, after a long pause. You looked up at him with sad eyes and only found confusion in his. “I can’t, I-, don’t you see how funny it is? Your character is desperate for mine to be with and my character is the one to deny yours.” 

Your confession pulled sharply on his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, not sure there were any words to appropriately apologize for how he had treated you. 

“Why didn’t you ever call?” You asked, voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. 

“I, I-” He stuttered, unable to think of an answer fast enough. 

“I waited for weeks,” you said, looking up at him with a look that nearly brought him to his knees. “I waited so long and you never called.” 

He brushed the hair out of your face, letting his hand fall gently against your cheek. His thumb caught a stray tear that had started to fall, softly brushing it away. “I don’t know.” He responded, his voice as quiet as your. “I don’t know, you didn’t deserve that.” 

You pressed your face into his hand, closing your eyes as you felt more tears managing to sneak past you. He was finally admitting words you had dreamed of hearing for years, but yet you were unable to find any joy in them. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” He repeated, sliding his hand towards the back of your head, pulling you firmly against his chest, while his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You let your body relax into his, slowly bringing your own arms up loosely around his neck. 

You felt him gently press the faintest of kisses to the top of your head. “I’m so sorry angel.” He mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled your head out from under him, looking up at him with big eyes. The two of you were silent, basking in each other's presence. Your eyes flickered down to his lips multiple times; something he duly picked up on. Just as you began to push up on your toes, nearly pressing your lips to his, eyes half closed in anticipation, his phone rang out. 

You froze, falling back onto your heels with a small sigh. “Answer it, I’m getting a refill.” You said, pulling yourself out of his grasp. He gave you an uncertain look, as if he wanted to pull you back in and ignore the call completely. 

You wagged a finger in front of him, shaking your head. In on fluid movement, you grabbed your glass and nearly ran out of the room

-----

It took you ten minutes to calm yourself down and another five to hype yourself up to return to your living room. And that was after you had made yourself a new drink. 

When you entered the living room, Aaron’s back was to you; still locked on the phone. The tension was clear in his shoulders and your eyes drifted down to his free hand that you knew would be clenched in a fist. It was. 

“Thank you Garcia, tell the team we’ll be there soon.” He said, pulling the phone away from his ear and hanging up. 

“Aaron?” You asked. 

He rolled his shoulders back, trying to loosen some of the tension from his shoulders for your benefit. He slowly turned back towards you, his face pulled in frustration. 

“LAPD just reported another body.”

-------

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales​ @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @averyhotchner @kimmy-k-k @uwu-sebastianstan @ivebeenthinkingboutu​

a/n - if youve sent a message asking to be tagged and dont see yourself here, let me know!! im so bad at remembering to move names to my taglist form!! tysm for reading! <3 ​

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner/reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hothner/you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x you #hotch/reader #hotch/you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #'stori writes #in the stars

[0nerd-at-heart0]

Can you please do #5 "You can tell me anything" and #36 "Why'd you stop?" with Hotch? Thanks :)

A/N: As always I hope I did this request justice. Feedback is always appreciated as I am a beginner in writing. 

This was beta’d by the amazing @thereideffects  , all mistakes are my own

Hotch x Gender Neutral Reader ( at least I think it is)

Word count: 808

You and Hotch had a weird relationship to say the least. You bonded over the fact that Rossi kept trying to set you up with who he considered were "excellent suitors". Rossi meant well but his choices of suitors were eccentric.

One late night at the office, you were finishing up your last reports, Rossi came up to you claiming he finally found the perfect man for you and had set up a date for that night. 

You hesitated to answer, not seeing a way out of it. That is until Hotch approaches both of you. 

Seeing the despair in your eyes, he tells Rossi that you and him actually made plans for tonight.

You can't say you weren’t shocked but obviously you went along 

Rossi left you and Hotch alone and Hotch started telling you about his shares of bad dates thanks to Rossi. You two ended up sitting around your desk, ordering chinese food and swapping war stories of Rossi's attempts.

After that night you and Hotch had been extremely close.

Until last week when Hotch became distant. 

During briefings and meetings he didnt dare meet your eyes.

He also cancelled on your weekly pizza night and when you asked why, he just said "because". 

You enjoyed the quality time with him; you can't lie. He was attractive as fuck. 

But you were okay with just being friends. 

At least that's what you told yourself even though you practically always had the urge to kiss him. 

You purposely stayed back at the office after everyone had made their ways home. Once you knew you were the only ones left you went up to his office. 

You dont bother to knock, storming your way in. Alerting Hotch and making him look up from his files. 

“ May I help you Y/L/N?’, he asks

"Well, first of all you never call me by my last name. So I know that something is wrong" you state, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"Look, Y/N." He says, emphasizing your name.  “ Just go  home, I have work to do”, he demands as he stands up gesturing towards the door.

“  No, not until you tell me what is going on. Hotch I care about you, please’, you plead, moving closer to him.

“ I can't tell you’, he says.

“ why not? “, you ask with concern in your eyes. You have never seen him like this.

"Because. Because I can't" he huffs. 

“ Hotch, you can tell me anything, we are friends”, You speak, not noticing him wincing at the word "friends"

His hands go into fists as his emotions boil.

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU THAT I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU”, he screams in exasperation. 

His hand goes to cover his mouth as his eyes grow wide in realization of what he said. 

You stand there shocked.  Your heart is racing like crazy. He loves you?

“"Please forget what I said, this was highly unprofessional of me.  Y/L/N just go home”, 

he says as he turns away from you. 

You  grab his wrist to  stop him. Looking at him and searching his eyes, you see that he is in pain. Scared of what you might do.

You do something he doesn't expect. You smashed your lips onto his. He stands there, frozen.

Once he realises what is happening he kisses you back with all the force he has in him. Snaking his hands around your waist as yours go around his neck, pulling each other closer. 

Eventually he pulls away, both of your lips swollen and breaths heavy. 

“ Why did you stop”, you pout, missing his lips on yours.

“ Because Y/N, I love you. And I want to do this the right way. So  Y/N Y/L/N will you do me the honor of accompanying me on a date tonight.”, He asks as he holds you close. 

"Hmmmm" you ponder , “ such a tough question” you laugh

He laughs too as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder.

"Aaron put me down" you shriek as you playfully hit his back.

"Not until you say yes" he states as he moves around the room, jiggling you and making you squeal and laugh 

“ Yes, yes a thousand times yes! Now put me down" you order, laughing still. 

He finally does and you are both completely out of breath, your laughs filling the room. 

“ You know, I love the way you say my name”, he blushes

‘’ Good, cause I plan to never stop saying it, Aaron ’’, you smile.

You both look at each other with doe eyes. Forehead against forehead and you can’t help but love the man in front of you.   

Little did you know; Rossi was still in his office next door. Sipping his scotch. Happy his plan finally worked

#aaron hotchner / reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaronhotch #hotch x reader #hotch #bau #cm #Criminal Minds

[themetaphorgirl]

I asked for cute and cuddly things so I could write something adorable!! I tried to combine as many as possible!

@therestisconfettis​ : “the psolc babies making a pillow fort!!”

@birds-are-better-than-you​ : “My brain immediately goes to people actually listening to him talk instead of cutting him off, but thats just rooted in sadness”

@fragolinaa​ : “I just want people cuddling him, maybe someone who hasn't yet like Emily or Dave?”

@purpleturtle31extra : “Spending an off day exploring music together! Like showing him songs that remind you of him or a certain memory..”

anonymous: “cute cuddly idea: u mentioned Emily and Dave getting Spencer legos. Write a little thing of a rainy day or whatever and everyone’s just chilling building random shit with legos and then there’s gonna be Spencer actually building something with proper ratios and actual potential urban planning and everyone else is just like “hmm... I have built something vaguely resembling a plane”

anonymous: “omg cuddly mom alex?? maybe spencer napping with her and he has a nightmare??”

I hope I touched on everything!! I think I captured at least a little bit of everything!!!

----------

“Hey,” Emily said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer dragged his fork around his plate, his chin resting heavily in his hand. “I’m not hungry,” he said dully.

“This is your last day to eat whatever you want,” she pointed out. “Go get something sugary. Donuts or something.”

He shrugged, and she bit back a sigh. Everyone else had left on Wednesday afternoon to spend Thanksgiving break with their respective families- literally everyone, even Hotch- and while they’d had a nice Thanksgiving at James’s house, and she was enjoying having her room all to herself, she and Spencer had been left behind, and the kid was moping like it was his job. She was starting to figure out that while he liked doing things on his own, he needed the security of knowing that everyone else was nearby.

“I guess I’ll go get some chocolate milk or something,” Spencer sighed, sliding down from his chair. 

“See? There you go,” she said. “Treat yourself.”

As soon as he slid down from his chair and trudged away she pulled out her phone.

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:09am

You guys need to help w the kid hes so sad i dont know what to do

James texted back first, which didn’t surprise her.

doctor james, medicine man

9:10am

Is he okay? 

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:10am

HES SAD I CANT HANDLE IT COME HELP ME

spaghetti grandpa

9:11am

He’ll be fine. He knows everybodys coming back today right?

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:12am

HE IS SAD NOW COME OVER

She set her phone aside as Spencer walked back up to the table with a carton of chocolate milk in his hands. “Can you open this for me, please?” he asked. 

She did and handed it back, but he didn’t drink it. “How about we go watch a movie or something?” she suggested. “While we’re waiting for everybody to get back on campus. That’ll be fun, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

He scrunched up his face, calculating. “Who do you think will be back first?” he asked.

“I don’t know, babe, we’ll have to see,” she said. “Drink your milk and we’ll get out of here.”

He sighed. “I don’t think I want it anymore,” he said. She shot him her best impression of Alex’s mom look. He rolled his eyes, but he drank it anyway.

Outside the dining hall it was cold and gray and dreary, rain falling just steadily enough to be irritating. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and made Spencer put his purple galaxy-print raincoat on over his his sweater before they walked down the steps. 

“Do you think the weather will ground planes?” he asked anxiously. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, squirt,” she said. “It’ll definitely rain all day, but I don’t know if it’ll affect planes. You’ll probably know better than me.”

He said nothing, but he slipped his small hand into hers. She squeezed back gently. The kid had been perfectly well-behaved the whole time she’d been left to watch him, but it was frustrating to see him so sad and quiet and droopy. She didn’t think it was possible to be homesick for other people, but Spencer definitely had a bad case of it.

They settled in the common room, but the cozy space seemed cavernous and empty without the rest of the group. Spencer left his coat and his shoes in his room and settled into Alex’s usual spot on the couch, leaning on the armrest. 

“So what do you want to do, kiddo?” she said. He raised and lowered one shoulder. She huffed. “I’ll just pick something then.”

“Nothing scary, please,” he said, his chin resting on his folded arms.

“No, don’t worry, I learned my lesson,” she said. She grabbed a Star Wars off the shelf- she wasn’t sure which one it was, but she figured she couldn’t go wrong with something sci fi.

“Hotch’s plane lands at eleven, right?” he said as she plunked down on the opposite end of the couch.

“I think so,” she said. She reached over and ruffled his hair lightly. “Stop overthinking, you’re going to blow a fuse in there. Everyone will be home soon, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried,” he mumbled.

They got about halfway through Star Wars (she still wasn’t entirely sure which one it was) when they heard Dave and James on the stairs. “Hey, guys!” Dave called. “We’ve got presents!”

Emily paused the movie. “What do you mean, presents?” she said. “What’d you bring me?”

James and Dave each held large plastic tubs that they dropped with heavy clatters on the floor. “Spencer, you’ve been having fun with the legos we got you for your birthday, right?” James said.

Spencer raised his head. “Yeah,” he said slowly.

“Well, we decided to dig around for our old lego collections you can have your own giant collection,” Dave said. 

He slid off the couch. “Really?” he said.

“Yeah, absolutely,” James said. “Go get yours, we’ll put them all together.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Okay!” he said, darting off to his room.

“Oh my god, thank goodness you two are here,” Emily said. 

“You know, you said he was sad, and I didn’t believe it till I saw him,” Dave said, wrenching the lid off the first bin. “He looks like a deflated balloon.”

“See? I wasn’t lying,” Emily said. “Poor kid has been moping all week.”

James checked his phone. “Hopefully everybody will get in without any problems,” he said. “Alex texted me a little bit ago and said they delayed her flight by an hour.” 

“Oh, yikes,” Emily said. “She’d better get back here soon. And don’t tell the kid that, he’ll worry more.”

Spencer ran back into the room with his legos. “How should I organize them?” he asked. “Color first or size first?”

“How about we, you know, build something?” Dave suggested as he sat down on the couch. “C’mere, passerotto, I think I have all the pieces to the batcave.”

“Ooh, which version?” James asked as Spencer sat down on the floor in front of Dave.

“I don’t know. I think I built it once when I was Spencer’s age and then never touched it again.”

Emily leaned over James and scooped up a handful of plastic pieces. “What are you going to build?” she asked.

“Hey, don’t copy me!”

They worked on their projects mostly in companionable silence, sometimes absent chatter. Rain continued to tap at the windows. At least Spencer seemed distracted at last, focused on his projects.

Lightning cracked, white light shining through the window for a brief moment, and everyone jumped; Spencer knocked over one of his structures. “Holy shit,” Emily said. “That was terrifying.”

“You okay?” Dave asked, touching Spencer’s arm lightly.

He nodded, leaning against Dave until he lifted him onto his lap. “Do you think everybody’s okay?” he asked. “Planes can’t always fly in this sort of weather.”

“I’m sure everybody’s fine,” Dave reassured him. Spencer bit his lip, still staring out the window. “So what have you been building?”

“Scale model of campus,” he said. “Well, it’s not exactly to scale. But it’s pretty close.”

James held up a lump of legos. “This was supposed to be a plane,” he said. “But it doesn’t look particularly aerodynamic.”

Spencer laughed. “What kind of plane is it supposed to be?” he asked. “It looks like an off-kilter Cessna.”

“I don’t know. Just...a plane,” James said. 

“I’m trying to see how tall I can build this thing without it falling over,” Emily said. “Not much success yet.”

“I’m sure you know, caro,” Dave said, poking Spencer lightly in the side. “How tall is the tallest lego structure ever?”

“The tallest one is in Milan, it’s a hundred and fourteen feet, eleven inches tall,” he said. “The previous tallest was just a hundred and fourteen feet tall, in Budapest.”

“Milan, hm?” Dave said. “Maybe I’ll go see it next time I’m over there.”

“There’s one in Tel Aviv that was built to be four feet taller but-”

Lightning cracked again and Spencer jumped. Dave rubbed his back lightly. “It’s okay, it’s just a bad storm,” he said. It was too late, though- the attempts at distraction had failed, and Spencer was clearly back to worrying, the corners of his mouth tugging down.

Dave looked over at Emily. What should we do? he mouthed. She shrugged helplessly.

Thankfully, right at that moment heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. Spencer raised his head. Please let it be one of our group, please let it be one of our group, Emily thought fervently.

A tall figure in a rain-soaked coat made it to the top of the stairs, almost terrifying for a split second, but he threw back his hood and shook his head. “Jesus, that was a nightmare,” he said. 

Spencer scrambled to his feet and ran towards him, nearly kicking Dave in his haste. “Hotch!” he shrieked, throwing his arms around his waist.

“Hey, kiddo!” Hotch said, bending to hug him. “Hey, careful, it’s raining really hard out there, I’m drenched and I don’t want you to get wet.” 

“How was your flight?” James asked.

Spencer, undeterred, still clung to Hotch; Hotch ran his fingers through his thick short curls. “Unbelievably shitty,” he said. “Flights were getting canceled left and right, it’s just storming bad everywhere. If I hadn’t gotten such an early flight, I might not’ve made it back.”

“That’s what we’ve been worrying about,” Emily said. “And when I say we I mean Spencer.”

Hotch tugged him back so he could see his face. “Hey, stop worrying,” he said. “Everybody will get back eventually. I promise.” 

“I can’t help worrying,” Spencer said. “What if everybody’s flights get delayed? What if something happens to their planes. What if-”

Hotch scooped him up. “Hey, I think the dining hall’s open for lunch,” he said. “Anybody else hungry? I didn’t have time for breakfast before my flight and all they gave me was one packet of pretzels.”

“They stopped giving away peanuts because of allergies becoming more common,” Spencer said, leaning his cheek against Hotch’s shoulder even though his coat was soaked with rain.

“Yeah?” Hotch said. “How about you go get your coat and your shoes, okay? I’m starving.”

“Okay,” Spencer said reluctantly. Hotch set him back down on his feet and he ran down the hall to his room.

“I am so glad you’re back, Hotchner,” Emily said, sweeping her lego tower back into the bin. “He’s been so sad with everybody gone.”

“I can tell,” he said. “Has he been like this the whole time?”

“Oh, yeah,” Emily said. “I’ve barely been able to get two words out of him.”

“Even when they came over for Thanksgiving he wasn’t talking much,” James added.

Hotch sighed. “I didn’t even think about this,” he said. “Poor kid.”

Emily’s phone buzzed. “Oh, it’s Penelope,” she said. “I’ll put her on speaker. Hey, Pen, how’s it going?”

“Terrible!” Penelope said, her voice crackling over the line. “I made the flight from California to Texas for my layover, but they canceled my connecting flight. It’s storming too bad.”

“Oh, yikes,” Dave said. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she sighed. “They have me booked for a flight first thing in the morning, and the airline is putting me up in a hotel for the night, but it’s so frustrating.”

“I’m sure,” James said. “Stay safe, okay? Do you need anything?”

“Are you kidding? The hotel has like a million channels and room service, I’m doing great!” Penelope said. “I’ll call you guys in the morning before my flight, okay? Talk to you soon!”

Emily sighed as the call ended. “Well, that’s one down,” she said.

“Penelope’s not coming?”

Spencer peeked out of the hall, his rainboots on and his coat dragging from his hand. “Yeah, her connecting flight got canceled,” Dave said. “But she’s safe, and she’ll be on a flight tomorrow, okay? So don’t worry.”

Judging by the way he pressed his mouth together, he definitely was worried. Emily pushed herself up from the floor. “Let’s go get lunch, okay?” she said. “Before Hotch starves.”

The rain had gotten decidedly worse, coming down in heavy sheets and flooding patches of the courtyard. Her umbrella helped a little but not much; Dave complained loudly the entire walk over. Spencer stayed glued to Hotch’s side, clinging tightly to his hand even once they made it to the warm safety of the dining hall. 

Hotch pulled Spencer’s hood down as they got in line. “What do you want?” he asked. 

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

He frowned, then covered Spencer’s ears. “Emily, be honest,” he said. “Did he eat while we were gone?”

“Not for lack of trying,” she said. “I kept putting shit on his plate and he barely touched it.”

“Did he just eat ice cream and candy?”

“He didn’t even want sweets. Or coffee, even.”

Hotch’s frown deepened. “Well, shit,” he said. He dropped his hands to Spencer’s shoulders. “Okay, kid, you have to eat something. If you don’t pick, I’ll pick for you.”

Spencer shrugged. “That’s fine,” he said. 

Hotch met Emily’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “I told you,” she said. 

She followed Hotch down the cafeteria line as he filled up two plates. Spencer stayed so close he ran the risk of getting stepped on, his small hand clinging to the hem of Hotch’s jacket.

Dave and James had beaten them to their usual table, and neither of them looked particularly happy. “Bad news,” James said. “JJ just called. Her parents rescheduled her flight. They were worried about the storms, so she’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. “But she’s okay?” he said anxiously.

“She’s fine, caro,” Dave said. “And she’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What about Derek and Alex?” he asked. “Have they called? Or texted.”

“Not yet,” James said. “Maybe they’re already on their flights, though. I”m sure we’ll hear from them soon.”

Hotch set the tray down on the table, then picked Spencer up and set him down in his chair. “They’ll be fine,” he said. “So how did Thanksgiving go for you guys?”

Even with their attempts at changing the subject and trying to draw him into the conversation, Spencer seemed to sink further into himself, his legs tucked up under him and his chin resting in his hand, his plate still mostly untouched. Emily couldn’t blame him for being sad. All week it had been just the two of them in the nearly-deserted dining hall, and even with the boys there it seemed wrong without the rest of the group- Penelope shrieking about something that didn’t need to be shrieked about, Derek regaling them with stories from football practice, JJ’s pretty laugh bubbling over, Alex keeping the peace and stopping cups and plates from getting knocked over and tilted onto the ground.

Hotch didn’t make much headway getting Spencer to eat, but at least he ate a little bit, and their little group braved the storm to get back to Lincoln House. “What have you guys been up to?” he asked as they settled in the common room again, coats and umbrellas hung up to dry.

“Legos,” James said. “This was supposed to be a plane.”

Hotch laughed. “Yikes,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not planning on going into engineering.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” he said ruefully. “I-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Dave interrupted. “Did you guys see the group chat?”

Emily fumbled for her phone. “No, I didn’t, I...oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Hotch asked.

“Derek’s flight got canceled too,” James said. “He says it got delayed and he sat on the tarmac for three hours, but they pulled everybody off the plane. His mom’s already picked him up, so he’s fine.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. He curled himself up smaller, his knees tucked up to his chest, chewing on his thumbnail. “But he’ll be here tomorrow?” he said. 

“Yeah, he’ll be here tomorrow,” Dave reassured him.

Spencer lifted his head. “Can we call Alex?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah, of course,” Emily said, immediately pulling Alex’s contact info on the screen. “Here, kiddo. Just press-”

Lightning cracked, and with a sharp pop the common room went dark.

“Holy shit!” Emily shrieked, the phone falling from her hand.

“Did a fuse blow?” Dave said.

James got up and looked out the window. “Well, judging by the other buildings on campus...I think the power’s out everywhere,” he said.

“Well, fuck,” Hotch said.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Watch your language!” she said in mock horror.

“Oh, shut up,” Hotch said good-naturedly. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait for the power to come back on. Spencer, do you want to go ahead and call Alex? She’ll probably be glad to miss the power outage.”

“I think the tower’s down too,” Spencer said in a small voice. “There’s no signal.” He held the phone back out to Emily. “Thanks anyway.”

She reached for the phone, and as the lock screen flickered she caught the faint mark of tears on his cheek. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, fuck. Spencer, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” he said, but there was a distinct wobble in his voice.

“Spencer, it’s going to be okay,” Hotch said. “The power’s going to come back on, and everyone will be home soon.”

It was too dark to see, but she could hear Spencer sniffling in a valiant effort to keep form crying. “I know,” he said. “But I-”

Hotch picked Spencer up and placed him in Emily’s lap. “Stay here with Em for a second,” he said. “James, Dave, come with me.”

Spencer dropped his head against Emily’s collarbone as she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s been a rough week, dude. You didn’t get to go home and see your family, and you miss everybody. And you’re worried because of the storms. It makes sense.” She kissed the top of his head. “And now we’ve got all this power outage shit. But it’ll be okay.”

Hotch dumped an armload of stuff onto the nearest armchair. “Thank goodness for Penelope’s illegal candle stash,” he said. 

Emily twined one of Spencer’s short curls around her finger. “What’s with all of the pillows and blankets?” she asked.

In the dim light she could see Hotch grin. “We’re going to make a blanket fort,” he said. “C’mere, Spencer, I could use your brain for this.”

Emily set Spencer on his feet as James and Dave brought in their collections of pillows and blankets. She busied herself lighting candles and placing them in safe places around the room as Spencer directed the older boys in their construction. He seemed to perk up a little bit with something to focus on, especially as they let him be in charge.

“Okay, I’ve made some blanket forts in my day, but this one is pretty cool,” James said. 

“That’s because Penelope has about eight million blankets and they’re all soft as baby puppies,” Emily said as she crawled into the fort. “I claim the blue pillow!”

All five of them fit comfortably inside, the interior lit with a string of battery operated fairy lights, also taken from Penelope’s room. Spencer nestled himself between Hotch and Emily. “Are we going to tell Penelope that we borrowed all of her stuff?” he asked. 

Hotch handed him his favorite blanket. “I think if we leave the fort up till she gets back, she won’t mind as long as she gets to hang out in here,” he said. 

“What should we do?” Dave asked. “Power’s still out, and there’s no wifi either.”

“Oh!” Emily said. “Okay, I’ve been trying to get you to listen to this album for weeks. Now is the perfect time! You’re a captive audience.”

They took turns passing each other’s phones back and forth, listening to different songs in the comfort of the handmade blanket fort, playfully arguing over each other’s tastes in music as the warm glow of the fairy lights cast soft shadows. Spencer seemed a little less tense now, snuggled safely between Hotch and Emily with his blanket hugged to his chest.

She hadn’t kept track of time, but it was at least two hours before the power switched back on, the overhead lights suddenly way too bright after the dimmness of the tent. “There we go,” Dave said, sitting up and checking his phone. “And we’ve got signal again!” He stretched his arm over James and Emily to hold out the phone to Spencer. “Here, passerotto, see if you can call Alex.”

He took it eagerly and tapped at the screen to bring up her info, but his excitement faded almost instantly. “It went right to voicemail,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

James scrambled ungracefully to his feet. “Hey, since the power’s back, who wants to watch a movie?” he said. 

“Not a Star War, please,” Emily called. “I can’t tell any of them apart.”

Hotch propped himself up on his elbow. “Hey, Spence,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m sure Alex is fine.”

“Yeah,” Spencer said. He turned to Hotch, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a rueful little half smile. “I bet her flight got canceled too. It’s okay.”

James flipped the overhead lights off, leaving them back in the glow of the candles and the string lights, and crawled back into the fort with the remote in his hand. “All right, if anyone has objections, y’all can get up yourself and change it,” he said.

Emily settled back as the movie started. Spencer was quiet beside her, but after a while he rolled over onto his stomach, his forehead pressed against Hotch’s arm and his blanket tangled around his legs, and she smiled when she heard his first little snore.

“Hotchner,” she whispered. “This blanket fort idea was genius.”

Hotch grinned. “Sean made me make one for him while I was home,” he said. “I figured Spencer might like it too.” He paused. “Is he asleep?” Emily nodded. “Thank god.”

James sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Guys, I still haven’t heard from Alex,” he said. “It’s still going right to voicemail when I call her and she hasn’t answered any texts.”

“Maybe her signal’s out too,” Dave said. “Don’t worry about it. Alex can take care of herself.”

James pouted. “Yeah, but...I might be a little worried about her,” he said. “It’s not like her to not answer.”

“Awww, you miss your girlfriend,” Emily teased. 

“I do! I do miss her!” James said. 

“Guys, if any of you wake up Spencer, I will murder you,” Hotch hissed. 

“I’m sorry!” James whispered back. “I just- I think I need to be worried about Alex.”

Suddenly a familiar person knelt down and leaned into the tent. “You’re worried about me?” Alex said, her long red hair hanging loose around her shoulders. “That’s so sweet!”

James scrambled up, smacking Dave in the face in his haste. “Oh my god, I missed you!” he said. He tugged her closer, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her deeply. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “My phone died and I didn’t pack any of my portable chargers in my carryon. Where’s everybody else?”

“Everybody’s flights are delayed,” Emily said. “Spencer’s been beside himself.”

“Oh, poor thing,” she said. “Is he sleeping? I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Yeah, he just dozed off,” Hotch said. “He’s going to be so relieved to see you.”

Emily scooted over to make room. “C’mere, the movie hasn’t been on for very long,” she said. 

“Hey!” James protested. “She’s my girlfriend, shouldn’t she be next to me?”

“Well, she’s my roommate, and I’ve had her for longer,” Emily said. Alex laughed as she settled between her and Spencer, busying herself with snuggling him against her side and tucking him in. Emily leaned over to whisper in James’s ear. “Besides, we all know you two are gonna go fool around the second you get a chance. You’ll get your quality time, don’t worry.”

Even in the dim light she could see him turn red. “What are you guys whispering about?” Alex asked. 

“Nothing!” James squeaked. Emily made a rude hand gesture and he smacked her arm. “Emily! Stop it!”

She snickered as she leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder. “How was your week being in charge?” Alex asked as she adjusted Spencer’s blanket around him.

“Could have been worse...could have been a lot better,” Emily said. “He was so sad. I’m not good with sad kids.”

“I’m sure you did great,” Alex reassured her.

The movie was almost over when Spencer began to shift and whimper in his sleep. “Is he okay?” Emily asked.

“He’s-” Hotch winced as Spencer kicked him in the shins. “Ow. Bad dream, I think.”

Alex sat up. “Okay, I’m going to wake him up,” she said. 

“Careful, he can be pretty feisty,” Hotch warned.

Alex stroked his hair back from his forehead as he tried to pull away from her. “Spencer, wake up,” she called gently, her hand resting on his chest. “Come on, darling.”

She kept coaxing him until his eyes finally opened. “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

“You had a bad dream,” she said. 

He blinked. “Alex?” he said sleepily. “Did your plane land safely?”

Hotch laughed. “Yeah, kiddo, her plane landed safely,” he said. “Get the sleep out of your eyes.”

Spencer rubbed his face and blinked again. “Alex!” he yelped, throwing himself into her arms. 

“Hi, baby,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

“A little bit,” he said, tilting his face so she could kiss his cheek. “Was your flight okay? Was there a lot of turbulence?”

“Everything was fine,” she reassured him as she cuddled him against her side. “Now, sh, I think Dave is getting invested in the movie.”

“No, I’m not,” he said absently.

“Yes, he is,” Emily teased.

Spencer settled down with his head on Alex’s knees; Hotch tugged his blanket around him. “Everybody else will be here tomorrow,” he said. “Penelope’s connecting flight got canceled, and Derek’s got canceled, and JJ’s parents rescheduled her.”

“That’s good,” she said, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep, darling. You look so tired. And everything’s going to be okay, nothing to worry about.”

The rain had settled back into a light tapping on the window; the thunder and lightning had long since stopped. Emily leaned back against her pillows, smiling in contented relief. Alex was right. Everything was going to be okay.

#au: patron saint of lost causes #caitlin writes things #emily prentiss #alex blake #alex miller #aaron hotchner #hotch #dave rossi #james blake #spencer reid

[re1d]

different lifetime | spencer reid

→ summary: “only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.” - george elio → warnings: maeve’s death, graphic descriptions of murder, mentions of depression and drug use, basically major angst but a fluff ending → word count: 4.4k (ouchie mama she’s a slow burn) → a/n: based on no.74 from the prompt list ; “let go.” “i can’t.” // cassandra stop making spencer cry in her stories challenge : FAILED // also this is my first time using time skips n i kinda dont like it :[[ i hope u guys enjoy it tho !!

Books are ripped from his shelves, and Spencer can’t see straight. Papers fly around him as he relishes in the feeling of the pages cutting into the skin of his fingers. Blood forms and begins to drip, but he can’t bring himself to clean it up. His mom would’ve chastized him in that moment for damaging the worlds with his reckless touch. However, his whole world had just been destroyed as well. Pictures of Maeve traipse through his brain at an agonizingly slow pace; they mock him and wait for him to snap. And, he feels as though it’s finally time to do so.

Spencer screeches into the silence of his apartment, undoubtedly waking up his neighbors and possibly even alerting the police. He tears through his hair with bloodcrusted hands and debates on wrenching it out from the roots. Sitting on the floor in a puddle of sorrow and anguish, Spencer sobs. It’s the first time in his life that he’s been so consumed with grief and guilt that he can’t even muster the strength to stand. He merely clutches The Narritive of John Smith to his chest and continues to fall apart.

As tears run down his cheeks, he denies everything that happened in the last few hours. Maeve is still going to meet him after work next Wednesday.You didn’t cover him with your FBI jacket after she was shot. The blood that poured from the gunshot wound in her head was fake. It was a joke—a painful, stupid, not-at-all funny joke. Tomorrow, he would enter the office, ride the elevator up, and make casual conversation with all of his work friends. Thoughts race through his mind, and he finds himself laughing. Laughing. A voice in the back of his head tells him that he’s in shock, that he’s not well. Another voice tells him that he’ll never be well.

He doesn’t know who to believe.

A rhythmic knock on his door sounds, and Spencer pretends not to hear it. He knows it’s you. Part of him is screaming to let you in, telling him to accept the comfort you’ve come to give him. But, he decides he isn’t ready. Not yet. So, you decide to wait. For Spencer, you’d wait until time itself no longer existed. 

Night approaches faster than you think. The sun is a paintbrush as it dips into the horizon and paints one of the most beautiful sunsets you’ve ever seen. It’s merely a passing thought, but you hope Spencer wills himself to see the pleasant combination of warm oranges and deep reds that are smoothed across the dusk sky. Glancing down at your watch, you read the tiny numbers with tired eyes—8:02PM—and, that’s when you realize you’ve been sitting for so long that your butt has gone numb. You register the pins and needles beginning to poke at your backside, but you make no move to stand or to leave. All you do is lean back, your head thumping gently against Spencer’s door while closing your eyes.

Spencer has no knowledge of the countless baskets of goodies from Garcia or the small notes that JJ has left behind after her short visits come to a close. He doesn’t even know that you’re still outside of his apartment. He knows nothing but the monotonous whir of his air conditioning and the smell of Thai food coming from his living room. Spencer tries to focus on anything but Maeve, but his mind is scattered, fragmented. He grows frustrated at the fact that his thoughts are moving too fast to collect. Blood. Bodies. Sweat. Tears. The feeling of your hands on his shoulders. Normally, Spencer is excellent at compartmentalizing trauma, but not this time. Not when his first true love had been so unfairly stolen from him.

Rage simmers inside of him as the clock strikes twelve. He clenches his fists, resisting the overwhelming urge to scream once more. Instead, he palms for the book nearest to him. With his original, hard cover, full-Russian version of War and Peace in his hand, he swings his arm as hard as he can at his door. Specks of dust fall from the frame at the impact, and a chip is now visible in both the book and the wood. Spencer hears a small yelp from the other side, and finally, something other than grief overtakes him. Confusion and anxiety course through him as he forces himself to stand, grabbing a kitchen knife before launching his door open.

You topple over, crushing his toes under the full weight of your upper body. Profanities are exchanged as your stare flicks nervously between his face and the butcher knife in his grasp.

“[Y/N]?! What are you still doing here?!” He means to sound angry, but the rasp in his voice does the emotion no justice. The weakness in his words is easily detected, and you find yourself studying his features from the ground. You’re profiling him, but you can’t help it. His shoulders are hunched, his five o’clock shadow has turned to six, and his eyes dart cautiously around your face. It’s as if he’s making sure you don’t see the torture his own mind is subjecting his body to.

“Well,” you begin, tone gentle, “I came to see you, but you didn’t open the door. So, I thought that I would wait you out, you know? Just to make sure that if you needed someone to talk to, that I would be there—ready to listen.” 

Spencer’s expression is blank, his eyes having stopped their search a long time ago. “How would you have stayed? You have work, [Y/N]. Work that we both know doesn’t stop for time to mourn.” There’s bitter vitriol in his words; he can’t bring himself to care about how they effect you for the time being. But, you don’t mind. It’s only natural. Finally pushing yourself up from the floor, you stare through him and have to fight the need to place a hand on his shoulder, to try to connect with him. The two of you are still separated by the threshold of his door, but it feels as though the Grand Canyon itself is in between.

“Spencer, I can’t even begin to fathom what you’re going through, but—.”

“No,” his retort is clipped, “you can’t. Goodbye, [Y/N].” The door is slammed once again, leaving you stunned to to silence. Sure, you had expected Spencer to be different, but nothing like that. Torrents of rain pound against the roof of his building as dread flows steadily through you at the thought of having to step into it. Nonetheless, you collect your things and head into the office hoping to distract yourself until you’re really supposed to be in for work. The time is 12:54AM, and as you attempt to hail a taxi in the storm, a chill travels down your spine. It’s hard to tell what caused it—the thought of leaving Spencer alone or the copious amounts of coffee you will inevitably be consuming later today.

────

Eight o’clock rolls around quicker than you hope. From the corner of your eye, you spot Penelope and JJ walking in together, their normally bright faces marred with concern. Eventually, the clicking of their heels comes to a halt in front of your desk. JJ takes a seat on top of the files you’re working, moving your recently emptied mug out of the way with a tight smile. Garcia’s crosses her arms with a hmph as she stares down at you. Neither of the women are hostile—it’s moreso agressive curiosity.

“So, [Y/N] ...” JJ’s voice trails off a bit, “You saw Spence?” The nature of the question is pure. Worry is evident in her words, but as you try to answer, nothing comes from your mouth.

Garcia cups your face in her hands, squeezing your cheeks to the point of discomfort. “[Y/N]. All we wanna know is that he’s okay?” She declares, “If you perhaps could comfirm if he has gotten my muffin basket, that would also be nice—but, Boy Wonder’s safety is always first!” The chipper mask she uses to hide the pain is crumbling away, and it’s easy to see.

“Honestly, guys ... He doesn’t look good. Spencer—he, uh, his apartment is a mess, like, books everywhere, three day old Thai food in the living room. I’m worried about him—and, Garcia, he hasn’t touched anything outside his door. It’s kinda like he’s trying to fight reality.” Your explanation is obviously hard for the two women to listen to. JJ’s face is turned down, her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. Penelope’s colorful appearance seems to dim as words continue to fall from your mouth. She gapes, evidently trying to come up with something to say, but her phone chimes.

“Jeez,” Penelope drags in a sharp intake of air, “this is a bad one. Hotch wants us in the conference room ASAP.”

Sitting around the round table, you take in the information about the case. Two people, a man and a woman, bore holes in the insides of their thighs, exsanguinated. But, there is no other chatter, no normal banter, no tossing around ideas. Only silence, and you feel as though you’re falling. Once you stand, your knees wobble and your hands shoot out to grab JJ’s shoulders. Her presence itself is an ocean of calm as she works to steady you.

“[Y/N] ... maybe you should stay with Garcia on this one? I’m sure she could use the company.” Although not forceful, JJ’s words are more of a command than anything, but you make the executive decision to dismiss them with a shake of your head. As you walk up the stairs leading to the jet, your stomach churns with the intensity of a thousand tigers. 

The absolute quietude on the plane is staggering, and until Garcia’s digitalized face appears on the screen, no one dares to say a word. She briefs everyone that another body has been discovered, and Hotch moves directly onto assignments. “[Y/N] and Morgan, go to the ME and see if the blood results have come back, yet. Blake and Dave, head to the newest crime scene. JJ and I will start working with the local PD.”

As you stare out at the clouds, you wish so desperately to be one of them. Oh, to be a big ball of water and ice crystals and not have a care in the world. The sun reflects off of the white, and when you turn away from the window, you can just barely see Morgan’s form sitting in the leather seat across from you. A pensive frown is present on his lips, his eyes tracing your body, looking for something to tip him off as to what you’re feeling.

Eventually, he finds that he can’t pick you apart. It seems as though each layer he tears through, another is waiting to conceal the truth. “Alright, kid,” he starts, a light air of humor in his voice, “I’ll bite. What’re you thinkin’ about so hard over here?” To be completely honest, you’re positive that he already knows the answer.

“Spence.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

Morgan crosses his arms in front of his chest. It’s a tic; he does it when he’s upset. You watch him as he racks his brain for something to change the subject to, but the sigh he omits is a signal that he’s going to try to talk to you about him. Alarm bells shriek in your head, and the sound is deafening. You force yourself to resist the urge to cover your ears, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything.

“So, kid. Even though you’re pretty good at hiding it, you need to tell me what you’re really thinking, okay? I know you saw Reid, but that’s not what I wanna know about. Something else is buggin’ you—I can tell.” He’s beating you up with each word. A punch to the gut, a kick to the face, an elbow to the side—it’s relentless. He knows something is wrong, but you can’t tell him that you’ve been in love Spencer since the third month working at the BAU. It’ll ruin you—not your reputation or your future—it’ll ruin you. Your mind, your body, your heart. Even though you ache to tell just one person, your mouth won’t let you. But, your heart seems to win the fight.

“Derek, I—,” you pause, your voice giving out, “I’m in love with him. I’ve been in love with him. And now, I don’t know what to do.” Your colleague searches for words, but he can’t bring himself to say anything. He merely stares, his mouth a thin line. Discomfort settles in the space between the two of you, its thickness is probably felt by the rest of the team on the plane. You catch JJ’s glances at the both of you, but they go unacknowledged.

────

Spencer goes through the third stage of grief alone. Bargaining. The stage where he’s in grave need to talk to someone, he is only himself. His hands shake as he pours a cup of coffee, attempting to use the caffeine to stay awake. As the sun rises, a thought in the back of his mind sounds. It tells him that he’s been wearing the same clothes for the past four days. His sweat, blood, and tears have collected on the fabric, and even still, he doesn’t care.

The only thing he’s aware of is the fact that if he wouldn’t have tried to meet Maeve, she would still be alive. He curses Blake and his innate curiosity, and he curses the fact that his first words to her were, “I don’t love you. Sorry.” He curses the feeling of your jacket over his shoulders and the immense okayness that it brought to him, even while staring at Maeve’s body splayed in front of him.

Looking around at each book on the floor of his apartment, they somehow remind him of her. Some made him want to remember her happily, others made him want to vomit up his heart and cut it into a thousand pieces. If he had only said the right thing, maybe she would still be alive. Maybe they would’ve held each other tight and moved on. Maybe they would’ve gone out for three or four years, and then maybe she would’ve gotten pregnant. Maybe there would’ve been a miniature version of him with Maeve’s smile and his eyes. Maybe he would’ve been happy.

Spencer spits up bile into his kitchen sink. Happy? He’s not even sure he knows the meaning of the word anymore. Grabbing the handle of his coffee pot, he pours and pours until the scalding hot liquid burns through his mismatched socks. Wordlessly, tears brim in his eyes. Reaching down, he plucks off the soaked fabric and merely stands at the counter, staring down into the seemingly endless mug.

His phone chirps and effectively pulls him from his trance. Although there’s plenty of time to walk over and answer it, Spencer just reads Morgan’s caller ID and lets it ring. It goes to voicemail and immediately Morgan’s words fill the empty air.

“Hey, Reid, it's Derek. Listen, I got a work question for you. The unsub's exsanguinating victims and removing their eyelids antemortem. Does that mean anything to you? Hit me back.”

Ideas are weaving in and out of the genius’ head. Trudging over to his couch, he presses the call button and waits for Morgan to pick up. It takes less than two rings before the line clicks and he’s in the presence of someone else for a change. Spencer sits in silence, not speaking until spoken to. He feels like a kid, but truthfully, he doesn’t have enough energy to say more than he needs to.

“Hey kid, you’ve got me and [Y/N].”

“Hi, Spencer.”

The sound of your voice is a drive taken at the dead of night where all you can hear is nature. It’s a thousand waves of calm. Instead of giving you both an answer, Spencer revels in the small greeting. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve fallen in love with you first.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. He debates on slamming the phone back into the receiver, but decides against it. “Have the cornea or pupils been harmed in any way?” Morgan says no. “If he's taking care not to damage the eyes, then line of sight is probably what's important to him.”

“So this guy wants them to see what he’s doing.” Morgan pauses and the whole line goes quiet. Spencer yearns to hear your voice just once more before he hangs up. And, by the grace of a seemingly wrathful God, he does. But, it’s not exactly a question he’s prepared to answer.

“Hey, Spencer ...” You trail off. It appears as though you’re thinking through your next words, but you settle on a simple inquiry. “How are you?” 

“I gotta go,” Spencer replies.

The line goes dead.

────

The case ends up being solved with the help of your Boy Wonder. However, as you board the plane alongside him, it’s obvious that he doesn’t feel very wondrous. Plopping down into the seat across from him—similar to what Derek had done—you shoot him a tender grin. JJ’s shoulder rests above your head, and Morgan stands, taking up the whole aisle.

“So,” JJ begins, “I counted—what—five baskets?”

“Seven, but I think Ms. Cavanaugh next door may have taken a couple.” Her laughter mixes with yours in a melody that brightens the atmosphere in the jet. Morgan snickers in the background, but all Spencer is focused on is your smile. A pang of warmth spreads through him for the first time in a long time, even though a frown is turning his lips down. JJ and Morgan eventually migrate to their respective spots—JJ on the couch ans Morgan with his head against the wall and his earbuds plugged into his ears.

You pick up on the scowl on his features and pat the table to attract his attention. He meets your gentle gaze with hesitant eyes. “Why the long face, Doc?” It’s supposed to be a joke, but he can’t even force out a laugh. Spencer succumbs to the monster that guilt presents itself as, cupping his cheeks and pulling down on his face. He tries to rid himself of the grime, the dirt, he feels on his body, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever go away.

“I dunno,” he slurs through exhaustion, “I was just thinking about how I acted when you came over, and I-I guess ... I just wanted to apolog—.”

“Spencer.” The severity in your tone shakes him to the core. His eyes widen as his mouth comes to a close. “Don’t apologize to me. You’re grieving, it’s only natural that you’d be angry. It was forgotten after it happened, okay? I promise you—we’re good.” There’s something you want to add, and Spencer can practically feel the words itching to come out. “And, Spence? If you need anything—anything at all—please, just ask. Please.”

His mind wanders back to his messy apartment, and he ponders the thought of asking you to help him clean. His mouth moves on autopilot, speaking before he even knew what to say. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I could use some help with something.”

“Of course. Name it, Spencer.”

When the wheels hit the ground, you and Spencer sit and wait for everyone else to clear out of the jet. Morgan and JJ squeeze his shoulder on the way out, and Blake shoots him a motherly smile. The sorrow in her eyes is blatant, but it travels to the back of your mind as soon as she passes. Standing up, you gesture in front of you, allowing Spencer an exit before you head down the stairs. He offers you a ghost of a grin, and it makes your heart bound in your chest. You didn’t remember signing up to run a marathon after this case.

The short stroll to Spencer’s Volvo in spent in a surprisingly comfortable silence. It is full of shy glances and small smiles, and you can practically feel yourself falling for him all over again. Climbing into his car, you turn on the radio to a classical station. Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Major plays at a low volume, causing you to close your eyes and lean back against the headrest. The old car hums to life, igniting a sense of nostalgia deep in your soul. The drive to his apartment passes by in what feels like seconds, and he takes the keys and moves to open your door.

Giggling, you step out of his antique. The gravel crunches against the bottoms of your boots as you walk next to him up to his door. “So, this is the elusive Dr. Spencer Reid’s humble abode?” There’s a lighthearted teasing in your voice, “It’s cute. I like it. What d’you need me to do?” He cocks an eyebrow, looking around at the books scattered across his floor and he wonders how someone could find beauty in this. And then, he realizes that he’s standing next to you—Penelope Garcia’s closest confidant—and another question replaces it. Was there anything you couldn’t find beauty in?

“Well .... we should probably start with the books, and then, we can move on to the Thai food.” A grimace appears on his face and you laugh at the way it scrunches, “And, after that, we can talk.” The statement is more of a question, but it still makes you unbelievably jittery. 

With a nod, you bend down to pick up story after story, every so often becoming enchanted by the bindings that surrounded the little worlds. Spencer crouches and pulls out a vinyl, placing it on the record player and lowering the needle. Once more, Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat Major fills the air, the static of the record scratching every once in a while. “I noticed that you liked it in the car,” he murmurs, “I’m more of a Waltz in A Minor type of guy, but Nocturne in E Flat Major Op. 9 No. 2 is always a good pick.”

“I just love Chopin, to be honest,” you say, picking up the copy of War and Peace sitting at the threshold of his door, “his pieces are all good, really. They’re all great creating pieces, you know? Like, I could just sit, listen to them, and make up stories in my head for days.”

You’re making up one right now. It’s a sunny day, as opposed to the inky blackness outside his apartment window, and you and Spencer are walking down an ambiguous dirt path. Woods surround you as well as sounds of nature, birds sing and branches snap under your feet. There is no air of danger, and all you can feel is the warm pressure of Spencer’s hand in yours. A cool breeze kisses your cheeks, forcing you to stop and take it in. Spencer comes to a halt, his gaze shifting to you. Smiling, you both move towards each other like plants to the sun. Captivation, charm, magnetism. It’s inevitable, like the meteor that destroyed the first inhabitants of earth so long ago. You move closer and closer to one another; it feels as though you’re floating, you’re gravitating towards him—.

“You know, if you’re that fascinated by East of Eden, you could borrow it,” Spencer’s weak teasing breaks you from your reverie, and you realize you’ve been staring at the front cover for over five minutes.

“Ah, uh, no thanks. Reading Of Mice and Men in high school was enough John Steinbeck for me. Personally, I think he drones on and on about things for too long,” you grin while shelving the book. He hums an acknowledgement and picks up a paper container full of week old pad thai, the smell forcing his head in the other direction.

Soon enough, there are only four, thick novels left, and you two are standing side by side at the bookshelf. You gawk at the number of collections and volumes that reside on the freshly dusted wooden panels, eyes wide. Spencer has one hard cover in his hands. It’s in pristine condition, the white of the jacket glaring at you with a vindictiveness that only the dead can muster. Maeve’s memory is held in between his palms, and it becomes hard to watch him struggle with the thought of having to put it away.

“Spencer ...” Your voice is feathery as it rides on the heavy air, “Let go.”

The words are broken as they fall from his mouth. Tears drip gently onto the glossy cover, and it seems as though The Narritive of John Smith is crying along with him. “I can’t.” A sharp pain pierces your entire being. Seeing him so vulnerable, so fractured, is agonizing. He cries over the story, repeating the tale of his whirlwind romance over and over again in his head. Reaching out, you urge his hands towards the only remaining space on the shelf. The book slips in effortlessly, and Spencer collapses to his knees in front of it. His hands are limp by his sides and his head hangs low between his rounded shoulders.

You lower yourself to meet his figure on the ground. He doesn’t move, his spirit completely dulled. As you ghost your hands over his back, he leans into your touch. After depriving himself of physical contact for so long, he wallows in the feeling of your fingers rubbing soft patterns into his skin. Spencer allows himself to sink into your embrace, inhaling the sweet combination of vanilla and jasmine.

For some time, Spencer cries into your chest. He apologizes through his sobs for the darkening spot on your work shirt, but you quiet him each time with a shake of your head. The atmosphere in his apartment lightens to the point of comfort as you do nothing but hold him. It’s poetic, really—something that you’d listen to a Chopin piece to.

“In a different lifetime,” Spencer’s hoarse whisper is barely audible over the quiet buzz of his air conditioning, “I would’ve fallen in love with you first.”

You contemplate his statement, mulling it over in your mind with a giddy optimism not quite suitable for the situation. He can tell you’re thinking over his words, but he doesn’t comment on the length of time you spend with them. A significant amount of time passes before you offer him a small nod that he feels when your chin collides with the top of his head. Smoothing a hand down his curls that are already slicked with grease, you open your mouth to speak.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you murmur, hugging him closer, “I’ll be waiting. Always.”

#mine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[svu-ncis-criminalminds]

You Left

For @yes-sir-hotchner who requested : I was thinking maybe Hotch (from cm) and reader are childhood best friends and it’s kinda like a love triangle (where reader likes Hotch) and at some point reader says “you weren’t there! I spent the most awful years of my life without my best friend” and she breaks down crying bc of all the bad things that have happened to her. Sorry if it’s so long and all over the place I just think it’s be so cool for someone else to write something I wanna reader idk but tysm if you do it and please tag me

You fidgeted nervously with the visitor badge clipped to your sweater. You’d just gotten back to Virginia that week after spending several years living out on the West Coast. The elevator you were on dinged and you stepped out, suddenly on the edge of a very busy room. People were walking in all directions, some on phones, some with stacks of paper but everyone looked like they were in a rush.

“Hey, can I help you? You look lost.” A woman appeared in front of you and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. She had her hair all done up and her makeup was flawless. Her dress was colorful and had polka dots and she was wearing an eccentric pair of glasses.

“I’m looking for Aar-Agent Hotchner’s office?” She nodded and smiled genuinely, pointing towards the other end of the room, you followed her hand.

“Right up there, it says his name right next to the door.” You thanked her and nervously made your way to the door. You hadn’t seen Aaron since you left. You’d been unable to make Haley’s funeral and it was still something you regretted immensely, even if you did send flowers, you knew it wasn’t enough. You reached the door and read the title, “SSA Aaron Hotchner” you remembered when he was still a prosecutor. Hell, you remember him long before that. With a deep breath you knocked.

“Come in,” A familiar voice called and it felt like coming home. ‘No.’ you had to tell yourself. Too much had happened, and while the voice still belonged to the man you knew and loved, you knew once you opened that door the memory would be gone and replaced with a new reality. So you breathed in deep and opened the door. Aaron looked at you from behind his desk, pen in hand. “Can I help you?” He didn’t recognize you, but he looked practically the same just older.

“Hey Aar,” you didn’t mean to whisper the old nickname but you did and he looked at you with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, before suddenly you got to watch realization dawn on his face.

“Y/N?” It wasn’t often you got to see Aaron in full shock.

“In the flesh,” you joked. He got up from behind his desk and came to you, eyes still wide and mouth slightly opened.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, stopping just in front of you, eyes scanning up and down as you took in the sight of his old friend. You shrugged slightly, crossing your arms over your chest nervously.

“I’m back in Virgina, you changed your cell phone number. I knew you still worked for the FBI and I wanted to.. Get ahold of you.” You explained. That was what had hurt the most. When you found out your job was moving you back East and you tried to call to tell him you were met with a disconnected number message. He never contacted you with a new one. Just like that he was gone, and you weren’t going to let that happen again. At least he had the decency to look ashamed.

“Y/N, I’m-” Someone opened his office door, a pretty young blonde woman, she glanced at you then looked at Hotch.

“We need to go. I’m briefing everyone on the plane.” Hotch nodded and turned to you.

“I’m sorry,” You weren’t sure if he was finishing his last apology or giving you a brand new one. You nodded your head and shrugged smiling slightly.

“It’s okay.” Aaron went to his desk and grabbed something before scribbling something on it and coming back to you. He handed you a business card and you turned it over to see a cell phone number.

“Call me, I promise you we will catch up when I get back.” You nodded and pocketed the card.

“Sure.” And with that you watched him walk away, another familiar sight.

---

You entered the coffee shop and looked around, spotting Aaron towards the back of the shop, back to the wall and two mugs on the table. You approached, giving him a half smile.

“Hey,” He greeted, gesturing for you to sit, “I hope peppermint tea is still your favorite.” That shouldn’t have upset you as much as it did. You sat down and stared at the steaming mug. Of course it was still your favorite, but how dare he do that? How dare he just so casually remember such a small detail from your past when he couldn’t even remember to pick up the phone and call. “Are you alright?” He asked and you looked up, eyes slightly glistened.

“I’m fine Aaron. Now I am.” You hadn’t intended to start off like this immediately, you did want to catch up a bit before easing into the confrontation that was well over do. He frowned.

“What does that mean?” you laughed slightly, shaking your head.

“You know what? This was a bad idea.” You went to grab your purse but Aaron grabbed your wrist instead.

“Dont.” He shook his head, “Don’t do that, Y/N. You always do this, sit down and talk.”

“I always do this?” You asked and he winced slightly, realizing maybe that wasn’t the right choice of words. “You don’t know what I always do, you haven’t seen me, spoken to me in years!” You were trying hard to keep your voice down in the public venue you had mistakenly agreed to.

“You left,” He reminded you, leaning forward slightly and keeping his own voice down, “You chose to do that.” You pointed at him, jabbing your finger slightly.

“You know why I did that. I lost you as a friend long before that.” Aaron groaned and leaned back.

“No you didn’t,”

“Yes I did Aaron! Haley never liked me and you know that! I was your best friend and she didn’t appreciate it.” You were visibly upset, someone at a nearby table looked at you and you made a face back at them. Aaron tisked at you, god he wasn’t always this boring. “You-You knew I loved you. So did she, but I knew you loved her. We were okay as friends, but you took her side and you deserted me.”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up for once and let me talk, you asked me, let me answer you,” You took a steadying breath, “You promised you would always be there and that we would always be friends and you broke that promise. You weren’t there, Aaron! I spent the most awful years of my life without my best friend. And I couldn’t even reach out. And then I move back, and I went to call you to talk to you. To get some closure for myself and you’ve changed your number, no word to me. Do you know how that feels?” You asked, and he just looked back at you. “Thanks for the tea.” You grabbed your purse and stood up.

“Y/N,” You didn’t turn to look at him, instead you walked quickly towards the door. When you got outside you made a left and began your not too long walk home, not turning around once. “Y/N,” He called again, jogging to catch up to you.

“Leave me alone, I said what I wanted to say,” You continued to walk quickly but he easily met your stride.

“I didn’t to reply.”

“I don’t want to hear it,”

“That’s not fair”

“Tough shit Aaron,” He laughed and you finally stopped walking, turning on him, finger pointed at his chest, “Don’t you DARE laugh!” You yelled, and he stepped back hands up.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not funny I just… I missed you, even this part of you.” You glared at him. He tried to step towards you and you stepped back still glaring. “You’ve always been passionate. Fiery.”

“Stop! You have no right to tell you you’ve missed me or that I’m passionate, you have no right to remember my favorite drink or anything, you’re not my friend Aaron, I don’t even know you.” He nodded his head.

“Alright. You’re right. Okay? You’re right, you’re right Y/N.”

“Fuck off,” You turned and started to walk again. Maybe you’ll get a cab just to get away from him. He followed again.

“I’m being serious! You are right! You know how many times I wanted to call you but I couldn’t because of my own guilt? I knew I hurt you, alright? I knew you loved me, and I did-did love Haley. But that didn’t mean I didn’t care any less about you and it was hard, but we were married. And I felt guilty, alright? I felt guilty telling Haley there was nothing to worry about when I knew that was partially a lie. I would never cheat on her but every time I looked at you I felt like I was, emotionally at least.” You stopped again, but didn’t turn to him this time. “I thought I was doing what was best for you and me and Haley. I couldn’t continue how it was and I am so sorry Y/N, that I did that to you. Please look at me.” You looked over at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked. He shook his head.

“I couldn’t. I wanted to and I should but I couldn’t bring myself to. And I regretted it, but then you left and I thought maybe I really did do the right thing. You were leaving to live a wonderful successful life.”

“I was running away.” you admitted and he nodded.

“I know that now and I am sorry. I’m going to make it up to you I promise.” You shook your head.

“I don’t need you to make it up to me, Aaron. I need.. your friendship in my life and I need you to do better this time.”

“I will.” He nodded, “I will. Do you…” He trailed off and you waited, “Would you like to meet my son?” You smiled slightly and nodded your head.

“I would.”

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner #hotch #Hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #request #Hotch request

[swiss-cheeze]

Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner || ‘I love you’ ‘then perish’

REQUESTED: YES/NO

Gender: uh, they/them but there are mentions of the reader having their own kids; obviously there are single fathers so the reader 100% can be male or female or simply NB if that's what you prefer.

Warnings: child abductions/killings, normal CM crime talk, talk of trauma/abuse/drugs/drug abuse/the stuff Spencer has gone through, dismissal of trauma.

-------

Aaron Hotchner

10 children had been abducted, in less than 48 hours. We all know the statistics, which is why you didn't exactly understand why the hell you were still allowing children to go to school and out to the park. You brought it up to Hotch.

“Why is it exactly that we’re still allowing children to go out?” you questioned with crossed arms, the team looked at you skeptically but stayed silent.

“Because it’ll draw out our abductor that we can apprehend,” Hotch said, staring at the victim board. Every single photo was of a child or a family with children, this abductor didn't leave any trace evidence except for a handwritten note from the child saying how much they hated their home life, it had gone through forensic for prints and to make sure the writing was in fact done by a child; it was, each and every one of those letters was written by the kids.

“Why don't we lay low, say the FBI aren't doing their best, it'll drag the unsub out, or keep the kids home! He’ll get bored an-”

“And skip town for more children and probably leave the others behind to die (L/n)” Hotch cut in with a stern look, “I understand you have children of your own but-”

“Hotch this has nothing to do with that!” you exclaimed, the team is now filtering out of the door, “it has to do with the fact we’re trying to do our jobs the best and this isn't the best! The mayor and council are on our asses about everything and we’re still allowing more children to be taken!” you threw your arms around in an effort for Hotch to see what you’re saying, but he refused.

“(L/n) this conversation is now over,” the unit chief said harshly, “we are doing our best and our best is-”

“Agent Hotchner?” a voice called, an officer had walked into the room without realising, “more children have been kidnapped,” the officer handed you the evidence bag, or bags you should say, “four notes, four kids, but there’s um,” the officer took a breath and cleared his throat, “a body has just been discovered and the chief thinks its Ashley Leif,” and with that the officer left. You sighed as you looked down at the letters, feeling the weights in your hands, the tears, the markings, the- hold on. It's signed. You cocked an eyebrow as you placed the bag on the table.

“What is it (L/n)?” Hotch called, you didn't answer and instead took the evidence bags with you to the front of the building where the rest of your team stood waiting. Hotch could see you handing the letters to Reid, obviously to read through faster and determine if it was in fact written by a child, as your mouth moved at a million miles an hour, a lot of the team nodding along with you and talking. It felt cold without you in the room with Hotch. Maybe he should take your advice.

-------

Five kids dead, 8 still missing. Four days. You walked out of one of the offices as the wails of a child-less couple followed before you closed the door, the officers seemed to give you sympathetic looks as you stormed into the conference room yourself and the team were in.

“We have nothing,” you exclaimed as you slammed the door, causing J.J. and Emily to jump at your sudden outburst, “we have notes, we have a signed piece of paper that isn't a child name in the database for this town-” you flopped into one of the seats with your head in your hand as Emily came up and rubbed your shoulders.

“We’ll find him (Y/n)” the woman said softly, you didn't say anything as she left and the room went quiet again.

“How is he even getting these kids huh?” you asked, “they just suddenly up and leave in the middle of the...night…” it took you a second before you glanced at the crime scene photos of the child's bedroom; undisturbed. The team caught on as you quickly moved to the board and examined every photo, taking them all down and laying them out on the table in front of you as the team curled behind you.

“What is it (L/n)?” Rossi asked.

“It’s all undisturbed,” you muttered softly, you could feel the breath of your teammates against the back of your neck, “what...what if these kids aren't being taken?” you questioned, “what if they go out at the time, say a family dinner with a friend, they go home and that friend asks to stay the night, they take the kid and then-”

“The crime scene is undisturbed because the kids trust who it is; ‘come help me outside for a moment’ and they go” J.J. finished for you, you grinned as you phoned Garcia.

“Ready and waiting!” Garcia's voice came through the speakers, her fingers poised.

“Are there any friends from every family? People that overlap that are maybe mentioned in social media of most if not all the families?” you asked.

“Family friend, me likey” Garcia said happily as she started typing, “uhh, we have one; Emelia June, friends of all the families and- oh no” Garcia softened her voice.

“What? Garcia what is it?” you asked quickly.

“She's a director for a class the kids all went to for arts and crafts” Garcia said quickly, “her class roll is sent to your phones and tablets now!”

“Address Garcia?” you asked quickly as the team started putting on their vests, you included.

“Work and Address on your phones now, go get her my babies!”

“Rossi, Spencer, Emily go to the work address, the rest of us will go to her home and go from there, Emelia is dangerous and is most likely holding those kids in a separate location,” you said as Emily and Hotch started rounding up some officers and the rest of you ran to the cars.

------

Emelia was caught but had to be interrogated in order to find the kids, luckily they were all unharmed and had food and water, she was sentenced 25 to life.

“(Y/n), can i see you in my office please?” Hotch called as you started packing up your files to finish at home. You gave a slight side eye to your friends before wrapping your bag around yourself and walking to the office in question.

“Did i do something wrong?” you asked monotone as Hotch waited behind his desk.

“You took ahold of the investigation when apprehending Emelia,” Hotch said, “that isnt your job-”

“Neither was yours to let those fucking kids die” you said quickly as your arms crossed over your chest. Hotch sighed.

“I understand this is hard for the both of us with our relationship both work and romance but you need to trust me (Y/n)” Hotch sighed, this only made you angrier, “i know you find it hard to trust others and to be trusted but for this to work you have to understand i know what i'm doing and what i'm doing, including my job, is right” by now you where fuming, “i know this case was hard especially with you having kids of your own-”

“Fuck you,” you cut Hotch off, him looking at you surprised, “i have kids, you have a kid too Hotch. You had a wife and when you came to me seeking some sort of love and affection i was happy to give it to you when you needed it, i loved those dates, i loved everything but really? I'm getting too personal with that case because I care about young lives?” you asked with a scoff, “im sorry but if thats a problem for you then we have a pretty big fucking problem here” you motioned between yourself and Hotch on ‘here’.

“(Y/n)-”

“No, dont ‘(Y/n)’ me,” you said with a laugh, “you do this all the time! You dont allow me to do my own job-”

“Let me explain-” Hotch started once again, but you stopped him by walking out of the office.

“My resignation letters went in three weeks ago for Crimes Against Children, i go next week, i'll say goodbye to the team tomorrow” you said walking down the stairs and past your teammates who heard everything.

“You're leaving?” Derek asked, you could hear him but you didn't acknowledge him and kept walking, Hotch walked slightly faster and grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him.

“I love you (Y/n)” his voice was low and wavering, it was full of emotions but you couldn't care less.

“Then perish” you said finally, and with that.

It was all over.

You yanked your arm from Hotch, turned, and walked off without looking back.

Spencer Reid

Spencer was sick of it, he really was. He loved you, of course he did, but there was always something about you that just didn't sit right with him; you weren't too clingy, you weren't too protective, you were perfect. But you didn't believe he had all the trauma he constantly said he had. You jump scared him and of course his fist almost comes in contact with your nose, you scream his name and he comes in with his gun held just to see a photo of a dog, you always dismiss his trauma at the worst of times.

Anniversary of his abduction and drugging? ‘Lol no that doesn't happen to people like you, even back then’.

Anniversary of Maeve's death? ‘So you love a dead girl more than you do me? Oh thats rich Spence, thanks’ and youd walk out of the apartment and wait for SPENCER, to send a fucking apology.

Whenever he talks about his mum or her mental state? ‘Spencer you won't inherit whatever it is that she has, skitzy whatever’ you say with a laugh.

The team could see how much Spencer hated it, he was always on edge of everything. What he hated the most was when you decided to surprise him at work, everyone could then see how uncomfortable he was with you next to him, not how a couple was supposed to work.

So, he messaged you, asked for a chat over coffee. And here you are at the first coffee shop you both met, you giggling at a little baby blowing spit bubbles.

“(Y/n), can we focus on why i brought us here?” Spencer asked softly, he was trying, and hoping to some god that you would try as well.

“Yeah in a sec Spence,” you cooed at the little baby again.

“(Y/n) please,” Spencer was now desperate.

“Okay okay, Jesus Christ I can't do anything without you breathing down my neck can i?” you asked annoyed as you sat in your chair properly rather than directing your full body to the baby.

“Me? Breathing down your neck?” Spencer asked suddenly.

“Duh, you always do, i can't go anywhere or do anything without you there to ask every question in the book-”

“No (Y/n) that person is you,” Spencer cut you off angrily.

“Don't cut me off, Spencie” you reminded the boy, that was the last straw. Spencer slammed his hand on the table in rage causing a few people around to jump and stare, not good.

“No, you listen to me (Y/n)” Spencer started, “don't you dare call me that. Don't ever call me Spencie, you know why?”

“Because some girl from prison called you that” you mocked as you took a sip of your drink.

“Exactly, wanna know why i don't like people calling me that?” you shrugged, “it's called PTSD (Y/n), or PTSS. It’s real. That abduction I went through? That fucking happened, i was taken for two days and was drugged and tortured,” you sighed.

“Spence you know how i feel about that-”

“Yeah? And have you ever thought about what i feel? Huh? Ever think why I get so jumpy around you? Because i'm a federal fucking agent, i see worse shit than you could ever dream. And forgive me, but I try my best to keep you away from that stuff because I don't want to scare you with it but at this point I don't care anymore. Maeve? She's real, she was real. She was the most amazing girl in the world and you know what? I never saw her a single fucking time until the day she died. A murder suicide. I wept for weeks and weeks, wanna know who was there for me?” Spencer held up his hand and started counting off on his fingers, “my teammates, my supervisor, my mother, the people in my favourite coffee shop and bookstore. THEY WERE CONCERNED FOR ME WHEN I STOPPED COMING IN FOR TWO WEEKS” Spencers voice raised slightly, not enough to shout but enough to get through to you, “i have PTSD, i have trauma; and it's not right for you to dismiss it like its nothing. And that includes my mother” and with that Spencer was done. He grabbed his wallet from his pocket, shoved a $5 bill on the table and started walking off, you took a moment to catch up before walking after him.

“Spence, what- what?” your brain couldn't keep up as Spencer walked out of the shop with you in tow.

“We’re over. Go home” Spencer said without looking at you.

“But, I love you!” you exclaimed, disheartened, hoping that last bit would help you, but Spencer kept walking.

“Then perish” was all you heard as he continued walking away, confidence radiating over him as he left you to your thoughts.

And honestly? Thinking back on everything.

He was fucking right.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #emily prentiss #jj #penelope garcia #Aaron hotchner #Spencer reid x reader #Aaron hotchner x reader #Reid x reader #Hotch x reader #head canon

[gloriafc]

Daddy's Girl

Spencer Reid × Jethro Gibbs daughter reader

Theres nothing Gibbs loved more than his daughter, even when she decided to join the BAU. He stayed supportive of her even if he disliked the other agencies that weren't NCIS.

After a few years of working as a profiler you started dating Spencer. Of course it took your dad some time to adjust to there being a new man in your life, but he eventually opened up to the idea of Spencer. You could only smile as you watched your dad warm up to your boyfriend once a random boat building fact came out of his mouth, "Sorry. Y/N mentioned you like to build boats. I have a habit of looking into new things." You could only watch with a smile on your face from your spot at the top of the stairs as your dad showed Spencer how to properly sand the wood on his boat.

When you and Spencer got married, your dad didn't even bat an eye, immediately telling Spencer he could have your hand. He trusted your now husband to take care of you. He saw Spencer as the son he never had, and he loved the look you got in your eye whenever you were around him, something he hadn't seen since you were a kid and went on your weekly ice cream daddy-daughter dates. Any man that made you look at him like the way you looked at icecream as a kid was good in his book.

Of course the only time Spencer ever seen your dad smile and get excited was when you told him you were pregnant. It wasn't until then that Spencer actually saw your relationship with your dad, how protective your dad could get.

Of course you and Spencer couldn't contain your excitement and ended up telling your team before they could read into a situation that wasn't there, Penelope being the most excited for another niece or nephew.

As your stomach quickly grew, all the men in your life made sure you were kept away from anything that could cause you and your unborn child any type of harm, unless absolutely necessary. Even then you typically dealt with the victims families during the cases and contributed to the profile and that was all your husband and boss seemed to let you do.

During a briefing you weren't exactly paying attention thinking you were just going to be pushing paperwork in the office after finding out the case was only in DC, and that this would be one of your last cases before maternity leave. Until Hotch hands you the file, making you look at him as you take the file, "You want me to actually join in this time." He doesn't even look at you, "Look at the ID of the body."

Closing the file you smirk and cross your arms, "You want me to pull the Daddy card." "I would like to keep this case as civilized as possible. I dont mind working alongside NCIS, maybe we'll be able to solve this faster. I'd rather have cooperation, than having to forcibly take the case." You just nod and sigh before Hotch offers you a hand and helps you up, "I'll call with what he says."

Knowing your dads sweet spot, you stop for coffee before making your way to NCIS. You can see the happiness on your dad face, as he grabs the cup of coffee and sets it on his desk before pulling you into his arms, "Hows my girl doing?" "Besides creating a human, kinda hungry actually." Your dad can only chuckle as he pulls out a piece of candy from his stash no one is aloud to touch. As you fiddle with the wrapper your dad asks, "What brings you here? Nothing exciting for the FBI to do so you came to snoop out a case?" "A name actually. Colonel Jeremy Walsh."

You can see the look on you dads face as he tries to keep himself from getting angry that the FBI is trying to take his case. "That's what you came for? To steal my case?" You sigh seeing Tony and Abby walking your way, "That's what the department head wants dad. My unit chief would rather work alongside you. I know you want to find your colonels killer for his family, but he's apart of a case with 10 other victims, 10 other families." You watch your dad think and push his buttons just a little bit, just like you did as a kid to get what you want. "Come on daddy. I already can't do much in the field, I need to make sure this son of a bitch is caught for these eleven families. If it was you or Spence I'd want to know the person who did it was caught."

Tony and Abby stop hearing you call him daddy and know something is about to go down. Your dad can only look at you before turning and grabbing his cup of coffee, "Fine. But we're working here." Tony and Abby approach you as you pull out your phone, "What was that about?" You reply as your phone rings, "Your colonel is one of my victims. Dads not too happy that we need what you've found to solve our case."

As you wait for your team to arrive Tony decides to bug you, "So were going to finally see you do your thing, with the husband we've only seen in the picture on your dads desk." You just roll your eyes from your dads chair, "There is no thing. I just profile, my boss, husband, and team don't let me go into the field at all. Unless it's to somewhere I can't get hurt."

When your team arrives and everyone is briefing on what they've found you stare at the map of all the crime scene locations. You stare with your head to the side and a hand on your swollen belly. Morgan moves so hes next to you, "What are you thinking Mama." You click your tongue at the nickname you received once everyone realized you are the mom friend of their group, "Our unsub has OCD." Your dad looks at you, impressed. Tony asks, "You got that. From looking at a map?" You crumble up the piece of paper in front of you, your team dodging as you throw the paper ball hitting Tony square in the face. Your dad chuckles knowing you purposely aimed for his face knowing you dont miss after years of softball. "Don't doubt me DiNozzo."

You fish through the pictures of the crime scenes, "And two maps actually." You pull out the pictures of the many severed limbs of your victims, "Every single body part that's been cut off is the same size. Every autopsy shows that each victim was strangled before getting stabbed and having a limb cut off. He followed a step by step routine with each killing." "If he had OCD wouldn't he have followed with head, arms, then legs? Not a group of heads, right arms, legs, and left arms." You look up at the map, "That was a different routine." You quickly grab a marker and start drawing on a clean map after making some points.

"A star?" You nod and pull out the original map you were looking at, "The different places the bodies were found are the points. We had the first and last victim in the same spot to finish off the star. We found where each body was severed and killed at the center of each arm of the star. Each arm of the star represents a different body part. The center of the star could be his home or where he was set off."

Everyone looks at you like you just found treasure, making Spencer jump in. "A star is symbolic for protection. He could be trying to protect what's at the center." You simply shrug, "Makes sense as to why none of the victims are connected, they were all just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Garcia quickly starts typing on her computer, having come along to use the NCIS data base, "Its a vacant lot, that was once an apartment complex. There was a fire that burned it to the ground, only two casualties. Oh", she stops before continuing, "Aaliyah Johnson and her unborn baby, leaving Peter Johnson widowed." Garcia looks at you after finishing her sentence and you can practically feel her picturing you in that situation.

Everyone quickly leaves, leaving you with Penelope, Kate, Abby, and Ducky, who's come out of his 'office' to chat while you all wait.

After a couple hours you start pacing, your baby being very active and making you uncomfortable, but you just push it off as you worrying about your dad and husband. Kate finally speaks up, "Do you always pace while you wait? Or is it just because it's not just your husband going after a psycho but your dad too?" You shrug, continuing to walk back and forth while Ducky starts speaking, "Its good for a pregnant person to walk around, it keeps them active. That's why when they're in labor they take laps around the floor to help speed labor up."

Just as he finishes his sentence you groan feeling liquid go down your legs, "You just had to say that didnt you." Everyone looks at you, making you look down at the now wet floor, "I really hope I just peed myself." You quickly lean forward grasping onto the table, "Nope its definitely not pee." Penelope and Kate quickly rush to your sides to help you get to the car, "We gotta get you to the hospital." You stop, "Oh no were not. I'm not doing this without Spence or my dad. I'm not doing this alone. They should be back any minute." Penelope just looks at you, "Y/N we both know they're not. Spencer would've called. He always calls when they're on their way back." You squeak out, "Maybe he forgot this time." She just shakes her head, "He'd never forget. You're not alone. I know it's scary but a happy moment. We can call them on our way there." You reluctantly agree and they help you into Kate's car.

Unable to reach anyone, you're quickly set up in a hospital room, Penelope trying her best to distract you, now that you've been given an epidural. "Just imagine what baby girl is going to look like." You smile listening to the heartbeat that's been echoing around the room since you arrived, "Like me with her father's curly mess."

When everything's been handled Spencer tries calling you, but your phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries three more time before looking at the team, "Y/N isnt answering. She always answers." Morgan quickly tries Garcia getting the same thing. Your dad tries Kate who immediately answers and starts yelling about how no one answered their phones. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Everyone waits. When your dad shuts his phone he can only look at his son-in-law, "Looks like your daughter is just as impatient as her mom. She's in labor." Everyone quickly piles into their cars and speed through the streets, sirens blaring, to the hospital Kate told your dad to go to.

By the time they get there it's too late, you've already started pushing. Penelope stays with you, holding your hand as you push, while Kate, Abby, and Ducky wait for everyone to arrive. Kate immediately stands seeing Spencer and your dad run into the room, shortly followed by everyone else. She just shakes her head, "She tried pushing it off as much as possible. She had to start pushing. It's only been a couple of minutes since we got kicked out."

Everyone sits in the waiting room, taking over the small room. Spencer cant help but fidget, his wife is giving birth without him. In the back of his mind he cant help but be thankful that Penelope was there when he couldn't be, but he also wishes it was him in there with you. Derek sets his hand on his best friends shoulder, "Hey she's not alone. And you're just minutes closer to meeting your daughter." Spencer can only nod before looking at his fingers.

Almost an hour later Penelope enters the waiting room, still in the gown making everyone stand. She keeps moving until shes right in front of Spencer, "Oh Spence. Shes beautiful. Y/Ns okay, they're both okay." Penelope can only hiccup as happy tears flood her eyes, "They're waiting for you."

Spencer can only look at your dad, not knowing what to do for once. "Trust me. You'll want to be in there alone for a little bit." Spencer walks down the hallway following Penelope's directions to your room as she stays behind, describing the features of his newborn daughter to their friends.

He stops in the doorway, seeing you sitting up in bed and holding a blanket wrapped bundle. From how quiet it is he can only think the baby is sleeping. Quietly he says, "Hey." You look up and put a finger over your mouth before gesturing him into the room. He makes his way over, standing next to you with his hand on your lower back. He kisses the top of your head before peering at the little girl who already has his heart. He chokes, "She's perfect." At the sound of his voice you watch as your daughter opens her eyes and looks around before locking eyes with her father, "She knows who you are already."

You slowly hand her to Spencer. He moves to sit in the rocking chair that's next to your bed as you let yourself get comfortable, listening to Spencer whisper random nothings to the small girl. You watch as she holds onto his finger before falling asleep again, "She has your eyes." "And your curls." You both watch the sleeping baby before hearing a knock on the door.

Seeing your dad in the doorway you smile. He makes his way to your bedside, placing a kiss on your head, "You got a carseat?" "I had it in my trunk. Was going to bring it over the weekend after this case, but looks like there was a change of plans. How are you feeling?" You smile, "Like I just gave birth to a baby. How does it feel to be a grandpa?" Your dad can only shake his head before his eyes travel to his granddaughter, "I remember when I held you the first time." You simply look at him. "I don't." You dad closes his eyes with a chuckle, "Smart ass."

Spencer stands up and you watch as he slowly hands your daughter to your dad, before moving to stand next to you. You watch your dad smile when a small yawn is heard, "What's her name?" "We couldnt pick between Alicia and Anna, so we made Annalisia." You dad shakes his head with a smile knowing just how indecisive you can be as he looks at the almost spitting image of his daughter in his arms, "Plenty of nicknames for that mouthful."

After a few more minutes theres another knock on the door and you smile seeing your team in the doorway, Penelope now holding balloons as Jj holds flowers. You watch with a smile as everyone fusses over the baby, thinking to yourself that you might be a daddy's girl and only had him growing up, but this girl will be loved by everyone in your makeshift family that you've built. When she starts crying shes immediately transferred to Spencer's arms to allow you to rest up, everyone watching as she immediately stops as she looks up at her dad, Morgan joking, "Look at that already a daddy's girl." Your dad chuckles from his spot next to you and nudges you, "Just like her mom."

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine

[maschotch]

there are many possibilities with hotch nightmares! I haven't thought about it too much though, until now lmao. this got long. I can see him as the type that launches up, cold sweat, heart racing, quickly trying to get ahold of his breathing. but maybe only from the really bad ones. the other ones he's more used to, doesn't react much

do cases with children give him nightmares? the after image of them, the screams he can only imagine, but that still ring in his head. maybe cases with abusive fathers stir up some bad dreams about his past

maybe he has nightmares about the people he feels he's failed. he hears the arguments between him and sean, only its amplified, he sees himself as his father. he still feels kate's blood on his hands. begging her to stay with him. her dead eyes staring at him, she's silent but her eyes are accusing him

does he have any about the team???

what are his nightmares about foyet like? does he feel the knife entering his body all over again? does he feel foyet hovering over him, breathing on him?

does haley haunt his nightmares? does he hear her cries and their desperate final words to each other? does he see her lifeless body all over again? does he have nightmares about Jack? seeing himself as his father, a traumatized Jack begging him to stop. or nightmares that tell him he's failed him too.

hotch probably dreams about failure, in one way or another. his nightmares are about not being able to save someone or not being able to stop himself from hurting someone. when jack enters the picture… it just takes everything to a whole new level. when haley’s pregnant, nightmares of his father return with a vengeance, with violent scenes that havent been this vivid in years. (through his job his brain has so much more to work with now—creative ways to hurt people and bodies broken and beaten in every way possible) dreaming all the ways he could hurt others, the ways he could hurt—has hurt—the people he cares about.

im sure not all of them are extensive or cohesive. sometimes photographs of the victims flash in his mind, leaving him frightened and disoriented when he wakes up. and at this point dreams of injury at the hand of his father hardly affect him anymore. honestly, the others dont affect him that much either. he’s numb to it. those are the times he blinks awake and just lays there breathing deeply before getting up and moving on. he’s almost disgusted with himself for not being bothered by the violent images or twisted fantasies his mind conjures. what does that say about him?

its not all bad stuff. he has normal dreams just like everyone else. random dreams that he could try to find symbolism in or dreams of peaceful times and happiness. as he gets older, though, the good dreams start to feel more and more like nightmares. he wakes up with that twisted feeling in his gut, thinking of the life he’ll never lead. the envy and frustration tasting bitter on his mouth but his guilt and worthlessness make his eyes water.

as more shit starts to happen in his life, the nightmares get worse. many of reid after revelations. many of elle once she leaves. many of kate when she dies. many of emily after the business with doyle. those are the ones that get to him more than he’d like to admit. the ones that have him bolting upright, panting, and sweating through his sheets. like when you dream that you’re falling and you wake up with that desperate panic.. except in this case his dreams are reflections of reality, so he can never find reprieve or relief in the comfort of the bed underneath him. sometimes he goes back to sleep, sometimes he gives up on sleep entirely and tries to get some work done. but not all of the nightmares are so easily put aside. some linger and the images flash every time he shuts his eyes. breathing shallow and uneven, heart beating wildly, limbs shaky and heavy at the same time.. sometimes he’ll go to jacks room and quiet his mind with the steady, soft breathing of his sleeping son. its not enough to get the images out of his head, but it gives him enough of a reason to make it through till morning.

#like.. there are no good dreams of haley after her death #even the good ones… ESPECIALLY the good ones #they hurt so much worse bc its what he lost. who he FAILED. #and the team… the team…… #when scratched reached into his mind to bring out his greatest fears.. his team dying was the FIRST thing that came up #they dont even have to be coherent. just… losing them one by one #asks #i mean hes got normal dreams too. normal nightmares. frightened of the teletubbies after watching it w jack or smth

[hearts-upon-our-sleeves]

Undercover Madness - Spencer Reid

Title: Undercover Madness

Summary: In which Hotch enlists you to go undercover into one of the biggest drug rings in the US, which meant you had to leave behind the team and a special genius.  

Warnings: Drugs, Fighting (lots), Curse words, sexual themes, gangs, drug rings.

Word Count: 4000+

Terms: Y/N = Your name, Y/L/N = your last name.

Masterlist

A/N: THIS IS 100% BASED OFF OF SEASON 1 FINALE OF BROOKLYN NINE NINE, I TRIED TO ADD NEW THINGS AND MAKE IT MY OWN BUT I GOT THE IDEA FROM THEM. pls dont sue x. Also the first part the cast is Hotch, JJ, Morgan, Reid, Rossi, & Garcia. Elle and Gideon are gone and Prentiss comes a bit after you go undercover kk, also I made a lot of the agents and directors up bc i don't pay enough attention to know everyone cast in the show.  ALSO I CAN 100% DO A BACKSTORY AS TO WHY YOU’RE CALLED THE CALVARY IF Y’ALL WANT JUST ASK I’VE GOT IDEAS MY DUDES. This isn’t proof read its late okay. 

It wasn’t everyday that Hotch called you into his office before flying off for a case, yet here you were sat in one of the leather lined seats bouncing your leg up and down. It was obvious that you were nervous, you grew that way more and more as Hotch briefed the team for the newest case. You had no clue why you weren’t in with the rest of the team, but you listened to Hotch and sat in his office waiting on him.

You didn’t have to wait that long for Hotch to walk in and sit at his desk. Hotch flipped through a few files not speaking a word until he found one, to which he threw in front of you. You grabbed the file and looked inside curiously.

“This is the the mayor’s file, the case I tried to make when I thought he was laundering money, Why did you give me this.” You looked up at Hotch in a state of wonder. Looking into this case got you suspended the last time you tried to follow it.

“What I’m about to tell you does not leave this room under any circumstance.” You looked around the room a small bit before nodding. “I need you to get fired, and I need you to use this to get fired.” He tapped the case file, as you looked at him  as if he was mental. You tried everything to read him but you couldn’t figure him out.

“Hotch this is insane, I like my job, I can’t just leave it.” You set the file back down and set your hands on your knees looking back up at Hotch.

“I know, I need to know if you trust me.” You let out a small laugh that made him raise a brow.

“Of course I trust you, but I don’t see why I need to get fired.”  You leaned back into the chair you were sat in and crossed your legs.

“For me to tell you why you need to be fired, you need to agree to it.” Hotch locked his fingers together and met your gaze, you had to take a minute to think about what endless possibilities Hotch could ask you to do, Reid could probably tell you the exact number. Reid. Oh crap what about that pretty boy genius, the genius that would walk you to work and make your coffee with too much sugar, but you never minded because he looked so happy doing it. You knew deep down Hotch came to you because you were the only person for the job. As much as saying yes would kill you, you knew that it needed to be done and if blindlessly following him would help in any way shape or form you’d do it.

“Okay, I’ll get fired, but I need you to do something okay?” He nodded looking to you for your favor. “Watch out for Reid would ya? He’s a sweet guy and I don’t know what I’d do if he got hurt.”

“You know I will, but Y/N, the mission I’m sending you on requires you to infiltrate one of the biggest drug rings in America.” There was no way he’s gonna say that you, a FBI agent is gonna get into a family of incredibly dangerous gangsters. That shit just ain’t gonna happen. “I need you to infiltrate the Romanov family, get to know them, learn their ways and most importantly we have found a bar frequented by one of their sons, he is around your age and I need you to get close to him, have them accept you as one of their own. This is incredibly dangerous and I’m hiding this mission away from everyone. Garcia is going to work with you on creating a means to communicate with us under the radar. I’m going to be honest, there’s a high chance that you will die, but if you can get in it’ll be monumentary. I need you, I need the Cavalry.” As much as you took in you couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname he used, you hadn’t heard it in a long time but then again it was why people had been scared of you.

“What’s the story again? People keep adding onto it.” He smiled a bit showing the smallest ounce of compassion on a gloomy afternoon. You shook your head letting a breath escape you. “So are you in on everything or not?”

“I’m in.”

-

Saying goodbye as the team left to go to their case was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but you did it and over that week they were gone, you investigated the case harder than ever before and pissed off the director of the BAU. Which lead to a two-day suspension, and at your hearing you raised so much hell you were fired on the spot. You left with a hug from Garcia and a vague memory of your team- no your family.

That’s how it started, you got fired and never looked back as you drove along the highway singing Billy Joel with a suitcase in the back. It was getting late and you could use a drink and a nice motel, so you stopped at a bar. As you sat down you already felt eyes burning into your chest but you couldn’t care, you ordered and scrolled through your phone looking and feeling bored.

“What’s a pretty face like yours doing looking so sad? I’m Mickey Romanov nice to meet ya.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and I just got fired from the FBI.”

-

The past few months were crazy you had successfully gotten into the family, you had no clue but they all loved you. You thought it was because you beat out Nona in a shots contest, apparently no one could do that. You had incredible information and could easily arrest them all but you knew they’d all run and rebuild their empire, you needed an event where they would all be at and couldn’t leave. You needed a marriage, you’d dated Mickey for a while and were extremely happy when he believed that you wanted to wait till marriage for sex. But all round Mickey was sweet to you but cruel to the outside world and you knew that it was for the pure fact of you could kill him without even trying if he treated you wrong.  

You and Garcia spoke once a week through the mail, she figured out a way to send you new recipes that were actually messages, Mickey thought you were getting weekly new recipes but you were really just relaying back and forth with Garcia. You and Mickey lived together and as he would believe happily, yet still inside were raging feelings for Boy Wonder and Garcia knew it which is why she always included a recipe about Reid and the things he did that week. You wrote her back a recipe telling her all of the intel you got this week including your plan to get the family together by a marriage.

-

“Garcia, how’s she doing?” Hotch walked into Garcia’s lair after being informed of a new letter.

“She’s holding up feeling a bit homesick but I would too after eight months of faking who you are.” Garcia typed away on her computers pulling up the recipe. “They smuggled in more of the bad stuff through the ports, there's a lack of security in one spot and so the claimed it as their own. Do we do something about it?”

“No we handle it all after we catch them all, we fix it they will think someone’s giving out their information and I can’t risk Y/N to close off one port.” Hotch thanked Garcia and continued to his office.

-

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” You could have rolled your eyes there but you faked tears and happiness, yet a small hint of relief for it would be over soon.

“Yes, yes I will, I can’t wait to be Mrs.Y/N Romanov!” You squealed trying to feel a single ounce of happiness yet nothing.

-

“Hotch!” Garcia called running into his office in a hurry, she slammed the door finally catching his attention. “Y/N is gonna get married! Hotch this is her plan during the vows when everyone is there and all attention is on the bride and groom is when we hit. She’s gonna get to come home, after a year and a half we can have our girl back!” Garcia practically threw the wedding invite at Hotch.

“We’ve got three weeks, I’ll fill in the director.” Hotch read over the copy of the invite, thinking about the plan.

“But the director of the BAU will never let us go in he hates Y/N!” Garcia exclaimed confused and looking for an answer.

“That's why I’m going to the Director of the FBi. Also Garcia, Y/N has kept up this act for a year, that does a lot to someone.” Hotch sighed and looked down at the photo of Y/N and her fake fiance.

“What are you saying sir?” Garcia looked up with beady eyes.

“Let’s just hope Y/N can come out of this as herself again. I’ll inform the team soon, please keep this quiet.” Garcia shook her head and left Hotch to himself, trying to think positively that Y/N would come back herself.

-

“Team, meet me in the conference room in 5.” Hotch shouted over the team as they wondered why JJ cancelled the new case, in all honestly JJ didn’t know either.

“Anyone know why Hotch called us in here?” Morgan asked around the room of confused agents. Prentiss shrugged as JJ shook her head. Reid mumbled a ‘no clue’ as Garcia bounced into the room. “Hey Baby girl what’s got you so happy today?”

“It’s a secret but you’ll all see soon!” Garcia took her sat and positive energy illuminated the room as everyone looked confused. They were all trying to profile the situation, but were interrupted when Hotch came into the room, Rossi trailing behind him with a smirk on his face.  Morgan furrowed his brows trying to figure out what was happening. But it wouldn’t take him long since Hotch wrote on the board a name most of them were all too familiar with. Y/N Y/L/N. Reading your name again made Spencers heart stop dead in its tracks, he’d spent so long trying to forget that you left without a single goodbye to any of them. Reid was angry, he wanted to be angry at you but he was angry at himself for falling for someone who would leave without a single word. He wanted so badly to understand everything but the puzzle was missing a piece until Hotch finally turned to them and pointed at the board.

“I’ve got some explaining to do about a past agent, a past friend. Many of you may be angry that she left and none of you have known why, and it was my fault. I made Y/N get fired, then go into the Romanov family.” At that moment Morgan realized Spencer’s jaw had clenched and his fist tightened around the uncomfortable desk chair he was sat in. “Over the past year and a half she has infiltrated them, gained their trust, and even succeeded in joining the family, or should I say she will be joining the family. In three weeks she will be getting married to one of the sons, we have three weeks until the wedding to put together a plan of invasion. There has been talk of them storing all of the product at one massive facility the day of the wedding, but we won't know until we speak to Y/N again, she’s been sending Garcia messages in the form of recipes, she’s gone under the radar and it is the perfect way to speak to her. I want you all to find everywhere they are importing the drugs and keep tabs, we are going to bring teams in on the day of the wedding we attack. All of the files are being brought to you, you’re all dismissed.” With that Hotch took his leave and Spence did everything he could to not storm after him and curse his name. He loved you more than anything in the world, where you disappeared it took a toll on him that no one could fix, hell even to this day you were there burning in the back of his mind.

“Garcia, you knew about this?” Spencer was past being angry but now he just felt betrayed by one of his friends. Spence stormed out of the room, he couldn’t handle everything that was just laid on him.

“Spencer.” Garcia called after the boy wonder, turning to Morgan silently asking him to talk to the damaged boy.

-

“Wow.” You choked looking at yourself in the mirror, today was the day you tried your gown on and you looked absolutely stunning. Of course it was a fake wedding but you could at least imagine if it was real, with a different groom of course, maybe one that was smart and sweet and cute and now you were droning on and on, about the love of your life, Spencer Reid.

-

“Hey, hey, hey, the hell’s wrong with you?” Morgan chased after Spencer, stopping him in the hallway. Morgan placed his hands on his on Spencers shoulders, looking him in his already red eyes. Spencer push Morgan off and tried to continue until Morgan grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. “I get it you love her and you’re incredibly angry but don’t it out on other people because you feel like you let her leave, you know in that smart head of yours you couldn’t stop her from doing anything.”

-

“So who exactly was Y/N Y/L/N?” Prentiss asked looking through the boxes of intel. JJ laughed a bit making Prentiss raise a brow in question.

“Ever heard of the calvary?” Garcia piped up her fingers clicking away on her laptop, looking up for a second to see Prentiss putting it together.

“You mean Hotch was able to get the cavalry on his team? Dang I’ve heard all of the stories, she’s just plain terrifying but she looks so nice.” Prentiss looked at an old picture of you and Reid in stupid party hats and a feather boa draped around your neck that clung to Spencer’s shoulder. Smiles illuminated both of your drunken faces and you could sense the love the two of you had for each other in the picture. JJ looked at the picture and smiled too she knew how much you two cared for each other and she was rooting for you two to get together.

“She’s the nicest person I know, don’t believe the stupid stories people make up, yeah she can kick serious butt but it’s only to protect people. We’re lucky to have her, and besides as much as Spence looks angry and hurt, he’s excited to get his girl back.”

“His girl huh?” Prentiss smirked a bit, never knowing Spence could have actual human emotions.

“Totally! They are in love with each other!” Garcia piped up ready to talk about the letters about Reid, that she’d promise she wouldn’t say anything about, so Garcia didn’t say any more but tease them a bit.

-

Today was the day. Today you were going to get married or you could finally be free from this crazy family and kick some bad guy ass, you hoped it was the ladder.  You slipped the bottom part of your dress on over some black leather leggings, thankfully your corset was the top part but it was breathable so you could just take the skirt off to fight. On top of the leggings you had two gun holsters just incase things got bad, you prefered fighting over shooting but this would be one weird and angry day.

Mickey’s father escorted you down the aisle. You knew that Hotch was watching, you could see the small camera set in the bouquet, it was hard to see to the normal eye but you could catch it. Every step you took you felt enlightened for it would be over so soon but you knew there had to be a war before there was silence. You met Mickey’s love sick gaze and gave him the same look, it sickened you but you swallowed it down and took the last step as his father gave you away.

-

You looked absolutely beautiful and it made Spencer sick, he hadn’t looked at a picture of you in so long, so seeing you at your wedding destroyed him, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact it was fake. But he was there with every single member of every security team, they all split up around the building you were getting married, and Spence was gonna be there when they release the gas that knocks everyone out, he was gonna be there to make sure you were okay. Hotch told him you could hold your breath but Spence prepared for the worse, he didn’t know why he acted this way but his mind just couldn’t focus around you, he loved you.

-

“I  have never loved anyone the way I love you, Mickey.” You lied your ass off. “Standing here with you by my side makes me realise I missed so much the first part of my life, and I’m ready to start it off right with you.” You looked into his eyes with stars in yours. “It’ so hard to describe how much I love you, it’s like trying Baba’s meatballs for the first time over and over again.” Heartfelt laughter erupted as you gazed into each other. You smiled, for the fact part one was over.

-

“That’s the word, release the gas.” Hotch ordered, it was rare for him to be incharge on so many different units and ranks, but this was his case, the director of the FBI made that clear.

-

It took 15 seconds for people the people in the back to pass out cold, and another 5 for everyone else. You held your breath and closed your air ways off. There was a gas mask stashed under the food cart which you grabbed and threw it on fast, finally breathing in and actually feeling how light headed you were. You took a few moments to compose yourself, there were guards you had to take out on the roof, before teams swarmed this place like a beehive. As you walked down the corridor to the roof staircase you slipped your skirt off leaving your pants, as it was easier to fight in pants than a 15 pound skirt.

As you reached the opening you could hear the guards, Hotch told you that he placed an earpiece under on of the shelfs in the room. It didn’t take too long for you to find it, turn it on and place it in your ear. “5 guards on the roof, taken them out then we go in, you still got it?” Hotch’s voice boomed through the ear piece.

“Fuck yeah I do.” You smirked, you were back in business, you were you again. You threw the door open, greeted with 5 very big men. One charged out at you and you jumped over him grabbing his head with your feel and kicking him onto his back. Two snuck behind up so you elbowed both of them in the head using an ‘x’ motion. Another charged in front of you so you did a front aerial with a spin and used him as a landing target. Those four had been knocked out but you still had one more and he charged at you throwing punches, you did the only logical thing you could think of at that time and threw him off of the building, which startled a lot of agents when they saw a girl throw a huge man off a building, eh you shrugged you’d deal with it later. You walked back to the door and used one of the guys as a stepping stone. When you climbed down the ladder you were met with a face you’d dreamt to see for the past year and a half. Spencer. You two looked at each other not knowing what to do only just staring and smiling until you just ran into his arm and hugged him, stuffing your face in his neck.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He said into your hair, you could’ve cried right then and there but you just smiled to yourself and felt at home in his arms. But all good things must come to an end, you two still had a case and Spence knew that so he pulled away first, he never liked touching people or having them touch him but damn were you his only exception. Spencer escorted you out to Hotch and you gave him all of the information he needed to send teams out.

It was over, the year long mission you had, everything came to an end today, and go damn were you happy to see everyone.

-

By the time everyone was in custody and all of the drugs and other illegal things were found it was almost midnight and that was when they let you go home as long as you came back in the morning to give your statements and everything.  Spencer walked you home and you let him stay over, since it was so late and you honestly didn’t wanna watch him go. So that’s how you found yourself on your couch cuddled with Spencer as content as possible.

“Did you ever think about us while you were away?” Spencer broke the silence, looking down at you cuddled into him, you sat up and looked in the eye.

“Of course I did Spence, every single minute of every single day, I missed you so much and I honestly had to fake every single emotion I had because I was so empty without you, I didn’t want to leave you I really didn’t but I had to. Honestly all I wanted to do was say goodbye, but you were on a case and it was such short notice and all I wanted to do was just,” You paused. “I just wanted to kiss you and listen I just god every single time I think about yo-” Spencer cut you off he couldn’t listen after the first statement. He slammed his lips into yours and you kissed him back as if the world was ending, you two fit together like the world’s most perfect puzzle and every single second of that kiss was explosive.

“I’m so sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so long.” Spencer looked into your eyes as you both broke apart. You just smiled and let out a small breathy laugh.

“I think I liked the kiss hello, better than the kiss goodbye.”

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