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nevereverlandboys · 3 years

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Drunken in charge

A/N: So I already posted this on wattpad a while ago. I was busy with learning for my exam, but now I finally managed to edit everything so I can post it on tumblr for those who don't read in wattpad

If you want to get tagged for my oneshots DM me ❤

Pairing: Ouat Felix x Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, consuming of alcohol, swearing, really unrealistic sex scene lol, unprotected sex

Summary: Felix is being left in charge for the camp while Pan is absent, so games are off along with every other game. What is there else to do than drink? The second in command uses this opportunity to finally get closer to the reader after being so distant for a long time.

word count: 9968

The Island was harsh and cruel to everyone in an unfair but equal way. Even though the lost boys lived free on Neverland, they still were ruled by the mischievous leader named Peter Pan. Each of them had their own suffering they would not mention to anyone, rather feel the pain alone and the loneliness followed them with every step. But if someone caught Y/N's eye the most, it was the quiet second in command, Felix. He always stayed close to his leader and would always follow his command. His cold facade never told her a single thought, making him special in his own way. He would leave the girl alone and only joined her on missions, but even then, the second in command would remain quiet. Pan on the other hand, tormented Y/N with thousands of useless tasks, while the lost boys worked on their own duties that seemed to make way more fun. No matter how hard she tried, Y/N would never fit in the group of lost boys, their name alone excluded her. None of them treated her fair, always left her out and acted like she was their servant. At first, the boys all seemed curious, and also a little intrigued about her appearance. They wondered why the shadow brought a girl to Neverland and if she would stay forever or just for a while. Their vicious behavior scared her off the first days, keeping her distance in a small tent. There was nothing special about Y/N, and she wondered why Pan brought her here from the beginning. Soon they boys learned that as well, treating her harshly like everybody else. They mocked her for being too weak, being too emotional,- they mocked her for not being a boy. After a while Y/N stopped asking questions and simply agreed to her new life. There were many good things to mention, nothing here was all bad. No one cared about her exploring the island during the day, at least if she did not go too far. If she wanted to cook for herself, there was no one in the way, and if she wanted to read in her tent, they would not enter- also because she was definitely sure Pan forbat it. The lost boy's feared and loved their leader at the same time, the way he let them live the free life they always wanted and not even seeing how dangerous it could be had convinced them. Y/N had distanced herself from them and their cruelty, rarely appeared to any big occasion and rather traveled along the river that ran it's way through the meadow and pastures. It was a surprise when one boy asked her one day to join a game, leaving her startled and unable to answer since no one ever really attempted to talk to the girl. It woke a piece of hope inside her, some of the younger boys already liked Y/N, yet, there was always something suspicious around the older ones.

"C'mon!" The thin boy yelled excitedly and waved his hands through the air, gesturing to follow him.

"This will be fun!"

Y/N avoided the demanding boy and tilted her head while her eyes wandered through the group before they stopped at the second in command, his eyes already burning on her skin when she detected him on his log, not far. His gaze made her nervous, uncomfortable and she questioned the decision to join the game. Something inside her shook the thought off, that Felix would approach her one day for some other reason than Pan made him, or that he would ask her to join a game.

"No…" Y/N answered nervously and looked back to the lost boy, trying to ignore Felix in the back. She did not trust that boy the slightest.

"I have to clean the kitchen." She lied and dropped her gaze to the ground. The boy left as quickly as he came, not even trying to convince her further as if the interest was faked like everything else on this Island. After a while she sat alone in silence, watching the smaller boys play with sticks and some older ones preparing some meat and stickbread for the bonfire. The feeling of being watched did not let go. Y/N tried her best not to look suspicious and quickly let her eyes wander further when she found the guilty boy, Felix.

Why is he still staring at me?

She never found out. The boy stayed exactly where he was and so did Y/N. He would constantly steal a glimpse and for a moment goosebumps spread all over her body, as butterflies rumbled in her stomach. A few days went on and she had catched the second in command staring at her over and over again. Whenever she looked at him, he quickly shifted his eyes somewhere in hope not to be catched. Sitting at the dining table she would catch him, when she did the laundry or cooked in the humble kitchen. The lost boy woke some curiosity inside the girl, the urgent need to know why he would always steal a glimpse, whenever she walked by. He never slipped a nasty comment, definitely strange compared to the other lost boys and their vivid temper. He never approached her or tried to keep up a conversation either. As soon as the sun went down, Pan appeared in front of Y/N's tent, calling her to come out and get some firewood. His second in command stood not far, leaning against the bark of a tree and chewing on a toothpick. He didn't need to wait for his leader's command, already knowing he had to join her.

"Be quick." Pan ordered sternly, pressing his brows together before strutting back to the other boys. Her eyes instantly shifted over to the lanky, blonde boy, a smirk plastered on his pale face. If Pan knew that this was not a good idea? Felix turned on his heels and led the way through the trees uphill where the bushes covered the edges down to the abyss, not looking back once.

"C'mon, girlie." He said.

'Don't call me that!' She snapped back and paced up. The lost boy's camp disappeared on the ground, the higher Y/N followed the path before Felix stopped in front of a dark forest, the leaves swallowing every light before it could touch the ground.

"Princess." Felix corrected cockily, watching her step between the trees. She started to blush and was unable to say something, so she decided to simply ignore the giant boy's nickname for her, no matter how flattering his words seemed. She tried to act tough, tougher than she actually was, in hope he would recognise it.

"How in the hell should we get wood in the dark?' Y/N mumbled as she stared into the pitch black.

"Are you scared?" Felix teased and gave her a smirk. His voice was deep and rough, unsettling but still going like honey through her ears. The girl scoffed at him and rolled her eyes, then led the way with firm steps, not even seeing the ground and suddenly tripping over into a mess of wood.

"Fuck!" She hissed and held her hands to check the unbruised skin. The lost boy started to laugh darkly to himself, before he stepped closer.

"This wood is full of chunks." Felix explained and bent down to pick up the wood. Y/N rose to her feet and grabbed some wood, not saying another word. Felix remained silent as well, heading with heavy back to the camp. After a while he stopped and turned, watched if she could catch up and continued when the girl was close enough. All the time she wanted to talk to him, using the moment all alone with him, but as she hurried to follow the second in command, no single idea for a conversation came to her mind. It was like someone wiped every thought away and replaced it with the heavy drumming of her heartbeat. As soon as she reached the clearing, Felix dropped the wood onto the ground and left them for the other boys to take care of it. Her chunks landed right next to his and she paced up to catch up with the gloomy second in command, when a tight grip on the girl's wrist stopped her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Y/N tilted her head and faced Dave, a tall chubby boy with messy brown hair, his eyes dark and soft like marbles. The lost boy looked like a bear, warm and welcoming, nevertheless it were his words that often scared her off. He only had nasty comments for Y/N, threats and if Pan wouldn't protect her for being a weak girl, the lost boy would probably harm her physically as well.

"The potatoes won't cook themselves!" Dave barked and pushed her harshly away before his eyes wandered over to the kitchen tent. Y/N bit her tongue to stop slipping a nasty comment, marched over to the humble kitchen and let out a growl when she saw the mess inside.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She whined as her eyes wandered over the dirty pots and Pan's, knives and forks along with every spoon. At least it was not stinking and disgusting, easy to wash, yet an avoidable effort if every boy would clean after themselves. But why should they? They had Y/N. Deciding to only clean the essential goods and shoving the other things aside, she opened a little basket with potatoes in it and placed them on the little counter. Like she expected, no one came to help her during the cooking, only one boy showed up to ask if she could hurry up. The same boy did not even thank her when she finally gave them the cooked potatoes half an hour later. The selfish behaviour of these boys was the thing Y/N hated most, more reason to focus on the second in command, the only boy who had never shown her this nasty attitude. While every other boy slowly gathered around the bonfire after they ate, Felix stayed where he was. He did not dance like the others and Y/N was not even sure if he could hear what the boys claimed to hear. Pan once said, his flute was special and the girl was supposed to hear her too. None of them had an explanation, still, it did not seem like the first time for Pan, seeing something like this.

The girl's eyes darted back to Felix, his eyes already burning on her skin and she instantly moved her head to make it look less obvious. The tempting idea of walking over to him burned inside her guts, but with all those boys around, she was like being frozen in place. The second in command never talked to her when it was not necessary, not even one muscle in his face twitched when he interacted with the others. Still, something inside Y/N pulled her towards him from the beginning, as if his attempt to block her out was even more tempting. When she distanced herself from the bonfire back to her tent, Felix stayed at his seat instead of following her like she had imagined he would do. A little disappointed she went to bed and kept twirling all her thoughts around the mysterious second in command. There were so many questions about him. No one ever understood Felix, maybe not even Pan, although they were closer to each other than no one else on this whole Island.

The following days Pan left Felix in charge, going on a mission by himself. The absence of Neverland's leader made itself noticeable first, when the lost boys stopped playing their big games and went directly to their duties, almost no words slipping from their usually loud mouths as they worked in silence. The day had started boring for everyone on it, Pan was already away for a few days, so Felix was fully in charge. Games were off, along with parties and especially dances in the evening. If Y/N could tell, the dances were the most annoying thing to the second in command, the thing he hated the most. Felix did not like the idea of taking care of anybody else but himself. So it came that even after weeks, Y/N had barely exchanged some words with him. He would simply avoid her and in case of sharing a task, just stare at her in curiosity. It was a lie to say he did not make her nervous, even when it was not in a scary way. The second in command was weird in any way and whenever he built himself up in front of her, she and broad, he made her look even shorter than she actually was. A feeling almost pleasant instead of scary. It was like something pulled her towards the cold lost boy, but the lack of courage would not let her talk to him. If he felt the same?

Felix was intimidating to look at, it was like something was wrong with his face but Y/N could never tell what. His high pitched cheeks were sharp and narrow and there was an awful scar running along his left cheek up to his brows like an 'x'. The most creepy things were his eyes though, whenever she looked into them, she was willingly drowning in a cold puddle that dragged her deeper in. They pierced her, as if he knew every secret inside the girl's head. Nevertheless, he was not ugly, rather pretty to look at. When his blonde hair hung messy over his face and the way he smelled. Whenever she walked past him, she would smell pinewood and musk. Even though he was well known for his cruelty, the lost boy never raised his hand against Y/N, nor called her nasty things like the others did. She was not even sure on how to do it anyways. Felix always looked busy or like he did not want anyone to speak to him. When she thought of it, the girl could not remember one single boy really talking to the second in command except Pan, but then again,- they only talked about plans and other secrets. He was a mystery of his own, a riddle for Y/N to solve. She glanced over to him and saw that he was carving something into a piece of wood. The lanky lost boy had distanced himself from the other boys, having his seat on a log as closest to the forest as possible. Maybe she could strike a conversation about his passion for carving? He was doing that almost everyday without talking about it and when she thought about it, she had never seen the final results. After a while, courage overcame her, so she stood up and walked slowly into Felix's direction, already noticing in the corner of her eyes the disapproving and concerned looks of some boys. They started to talk quietly to each other and she instantly knew it was about her. Their eyes burned more on Y/N's skin with each step further towards Felix, making her feel nervous and jumpy. Rolling with her eyes at them, she still marched to the lanky blonde boy, stopping when she was close enough to him. The heads of the lost boys instantly shot away, as if they felt too scared to let Felix know about their curiosity when he lifted his heavy head from his broad shoulders.

Felix's eyes darted up, his mouth shut tight and his facial expression went blank like always. His look told Y/N that he was strong, but never how he felt. She tried to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. Unable to speak, she stared with a deadpan face back at the second in command, trying to find an excuse for her behaviour. The idea with the wood seemed so dumb suddenly and she wished she could just melt into the ground or simply disappear as the lost boy stared back at her, locking their eyes and waiting for her to say something.

"Have you seen Pan?" Y/N choked out and sounded calmer than she expected to be. The blonde boy raised an eyebrow suspiciously and nodded behind him into the dark forest. Big trees hovered high up into the sky, all around the clearing, hiding every view. It was pitch black. Y/N swallowed at the sight of the dark woods and she shook her head slowly, feeling so scared of the unknown dangers. There was no reason for her to see Pan, the leader was not a pleasant person himself and the lie only made her more anxious.

"I think it wasn't important anyways." She mumbled unsure and turned around, feeling how her whole face heatened up at the fact that she talked to the mysterious second in command. Suddenly, the tall boy grabbed her by the wrist, causing her to turn and face him again.

"I'll bring you to him, if you feel scared to go alone." He said dry and rose to his feet, tall and intimidating. The girl was so small next to him, peeking up to him again as her limbs lightly started to tremble. Felix glanced down at her and again, she shook her head slowly. The girl did not know if he simply did not notice it, but when the lost boy shoved her into the pitch black, terror overcame her. What was he doing? Not daring to say a word, before the light around her vanished, she only felt the lost boy's hand on her back as he pushed her gently forwards. Her heart was pounding so hard, she feared he might feel it. Where the hell would he bring her? Where was Pan all the time?

"Don't." Y/N winced and turned on her heels, running past Felix back into the camp. The lost boy instantly jumped around and stormed after her, chasing her across the clearing towards some big trees. She tripped over one of their big roots, almost crashing down but still finding her balance. This was the moment Felix jumped at the girl, crashing down with her, his heavy weight pressing the air out of her lungs. The lost boy spun her around and pinned her arms down on the floor before she could take a sharp inhale. Y/N tried to free herself in panic, but she could not move at all, when the slender boy straddled her and held her down. The colours in Y/N's face faded away and her heart pumped wild inside her as if it were about to explode, unable to tell if she felt excited or scared. Maybe a healthy mix of both. She was sure he did not want to hurt her. Frankly, he never did.

"Why in the hell are you running from me." He asked angry, slightly confused and she thought even a bit hurt as he pressed his brows strictly together.

"Don’t hurt me." She muttered and the pale boy frowned. He loosened his grip and swiftly rose to his feet and pulled his hood back over his head, then strutted quickly away, not even giving her a last glance.

That was strange, she thought. Her heart was still beating furiously. What happened? The lost boy scared her and made her feel like burning at the same time. She took a deep breath and raised to her feet, wiping the dirt off her clothes. Felix was a strange guy and he only confused Y/N. Why did he just stand up and leave? She was not dumb and clearly could add two and two together. But it could not be that the second in command had some interest in her, why should he? The boy barely spoke to the girl, even when they had chores together. Y/N remembered one of the first days, when Pan sent them both to get some dreamshade and the tall blonde did not even let her near one of those plants, not even mentioning why. When he held the filled glasses, the boy walked a big distance between her back to camp, giving her the feeling of not being wanted. Later she had learned the dangers of it and Felix's strange behaviour now. It was an easy addition but she needed to be sure, not even knowing how to deal with this information.

If I am right.

The next day Felix clearly avoided her. Whenever he felt like she was too close, the lost boy would quickly find another place to go. She did not want to ask any of the boys about it, not wanting them to know, but it was obviously something off. They would not answer her anyways, only giving her questioning looks. After that weird situation in the evening before, the second in command completely vanished. There was no big effort to look for him and when the girl went to bed, she completely forgot about him. He had not given her any duties yet, so she took her chance and left the camp to take a shower and later gather some fruits and seeds, everything edible the Island would offer her without having to kill. She did not know how to hunt and was not sure if she could even catch an animal. Peter once told her that his best man would teach her to hunt, but Felix always seemed to be so busy that she simply never asked him to. At first she had avoided the blonde, lanky boy, not knowing his temper. He had scared her so much but now she could not stop thinking of how he had straddled her and how much she liked it. This was stupid. She barely knew Felix and still Y/N pictured herself with him in so many daydreams now. It was always easier to dream about someone and she was not crazy enough to consider anything about the rough boy. But where would he be? What is he doing right now? God, she needed to stop thinking about Felix. She was overthinking.

The time passed by and Y/N found herself at the clearing again, watching two boys fight in the distance, with a small crowd around to cheer their violence. Her eyes wandered over the whole area, searching for the second in command. He sat far away next to a few older lost boys that hollered around while drinking some rum. Since Felix would not let them do anything, the only possible solution for the boys was to drink and do stupid things that would not bother the tall scarred one. They were drinking more alcohol than any adult could ever handle. The girl's eyes shifted over the group, seeing how they stumbled and swayed around. Felix sat on a log with his own bottle of rum in his hands, he kept his distance from the other boys, observing them with a blank expression but it was visible that he was drunk, too. When he saw Y/N entering the camp, the second in command's head spun around, meeting her gaze and she could swear his face lightened up.

"Y/N!" Someone big yelled excitedly and jumped at her from the side, almost swaying her off her feet before she could even think of the name "Felix".

"Drink with us!" The chubby boy cheered with a dizzy voice. His dark, bushy eyebrows hung deep over his small eyes and he wrinkled his nose, making a nasty, slimy sound, reminding her of a mull. He was not pretty to look at, mean and vicious, sometimes insulting for no reason. He was that kind of a boy who would mock one and still complain when they did not want to be his friend.

"No, tha-"

"DRINK!" The chubby boy repeated himself more aggressively and grabbed Y/N's wrist to stop her from leaving before she could even try getting away. His fat fingers would definitely leave a mark later as she furiously tried to yank herself free.

"YOU ARE HURTING ME!" Y/N whined and buried her nails into his wrist, but the lost boy would not let go.

"It will be fun! Don't be such a lame ass." He gave back and tightened his grip. Felix, who had watched the whole scene from a distance, immediately jumped to his feet and stormed towards them, yanking the boy away and threw him violently into the mud. He gave him the most powerful kick that his anger would provoke, that the sound of the fat lost boy's scream caught everyone's attention.

"I will snap your fucking neck!" Felix threatened so calmly that the other boys would not even hear it as he pressed his jaw together, his hands forming into fists that his knuckles turned white. The chubby moonface groaned dizzy and turned onto his stomach, trying to lift himself drunkenly out of the sludge. With a closer look, Y/N understood why they all called him Piggy, instead of Mull. He turned his head confused around before he would drop back onto the ground again. The girl's eyes widened at the sight of this cruelty, even though she felt relieved and maybe a little entertained to see Piggy like this. He truly deserved it. On the other hand, she wondered why Felix came so quickly to help after he had tried his best to get out of her way. Y/N's cheeks burned up and she knew it would be the perfect moment to talk to him.

"Go." Felix said. He turned to her and shoved her gently away from the boys towards the tents. His big hand warmed her comfortably on her back, waking the butterflies in her stomach and causing her to shiver. The second in command rested one one of his arms on the girl's shoulder to keep his balance as he swayed between the tall bushes forwards between the trees.

"You should go to sleep." The lost boy said huskily, stopping in front of her tent, his grey eyes staring at the closed curtains. The excitement inside Y/N turned into disappointment when she saw where this actually went, so she stared irritated at the tent as Felix pulled his arm away and stepped away, slowly heading back.

"I am not tired!" Y/N gave back and knitted her brows together, confused why he just left her now. He could have stayed at the camp instead of joining her in the first place. Why come all this way up here? Felix's head spun around before turning back to stop right in front of the girl. He bent down to face her and made it possible to smell the alcohol in his breath as she stared into his gray eyes illuminated by the pale moonlight. The messy, ashen hair hung half over his face,- Y/N liked so many things about him and right now he was so perfect. He has never been that close before, except when he had tackled her.

"The boys aren't so well behaved," The second in command snickered. "Especially not in that state."

Y/N giggled when she thought of Felix acting like he was a good boy, after all those terrible things he did. There was a reason why he was second in command of this brutal gang and he proved it by the way he treated Piggy.

"And you're not?" She gave back quite bravely, raising an eyebrow cockily. Felix chuckled low to himself, slightly shaking his head before he gave her a smirk, showing his white palette of perfectly lined up teeth.

"If you want me to," Felix purred and wiggled with his brows. "I'll be whatever you want."

The girl felt goosebumps spread all over her body at his words and for a moment, she just stared speechless back at him, unable to say a word and wanting nothing more than kissing those pink lips. Felix was drunk, he could not think straight and definitely did not mean what he said. The lost boy's breath tickled hers and she noticed how close he was and how she just had to lean in, to steal a kiss. There was no way she would risk it, well aware that Pan loved games and she could not let the thought go, his best man would love them as well.

"Do you have any suggestions?" She asked as her nose touched his, her lips almost on his as she gently ran her hands over his chest. Felix ignored the question, moving instinctively and rough, grabbing Y/N's neck and pulling her in to close the distance between their mouths. His tongue was warm and tasted like liquor, still it did not bother her at all, when he vividly explored the inside of her mouth. Felix's hands vanished under her hair, grabbing her head and pressing the girl firmer against him while his intoxicated mind led his actions. Y/N gasped surprised into the kiss, not expecting him to do this even though it was what she wished for. Felix was way taller than her and for the moment he was forced to bend down at her height, holding her in his broad arms that pressed her tightly against his chest. When Felix’s pulled away, his eyes were still shut and he ran his thumb over Y/N's lips, licking his own and let out a gasp when he realised that he did not only imagined to do that. Then his eyes widened and she could see that he realised for the first time what just happened, what he just did.

"Sorry…" Felix mumbled unbelievingly and shook his head with widened eyes. He pushed her harshly away and rose to his feet, quickly checking full terror if someone had watched it.

"I was-" Felix spoke hoarse and slowly took a step back, then another one, a few more, until he turned on his heels and sprinted quickly away, not finishing what he tried to say.

Y/N stood there for a moment as if she were stuck in place, not able to process what just happened. With a swift movement she stormed through the curtains of her tent towards her bed to hide under the covers. She grabbed a pillow, held it against her face and screamed inside it. It was hard to tell if she felt excited or embarrassed. Felix kissed her, so why should she be worried about something? Maybe it was a test and she failed? Hell no, that would be some serious bullshit if that were the first explanation and she had seen his reaction. The way he held her and how he tasted heatened her up. Every cell inside her body craved for more.

No, what are you doing, she thought and shook her head, replaying that scenario in her head over and over again like a broken record. With a swift move she rolled onto her back and stared up at the curtain ceiling, hoping to find an answer to what her next step could be. If the lost boys would find out, they would never stop talking about it, maybe even start to think she was easy to have. Y/N gulped and squinted her eyes at the thought of them all trying to hit on her. Felix was different though. He was tall and intimidating, his cold stare would pierce through her with a burning desire and his smell intoxicated her mind. Whenever he was around, she could barely think straight, desperately wanting to figure out what laid beneath that cold facade. Never in a thousand years, she could have guessed that he liked her back. On the other hand, he was not able to make proper decisions drunkenly and maybe Y/N was encouraging herself too much. There was almost nothing she knew about the tall boy and falling for him that fast could only harm herself in the end.

Y/N closed her eyes and brought her fingers to her lips, touching them, while imaging to feel Felix's on them again and remember what they tasted like. The second in command barely spoke to her and now that? There was definitely more behind it. It had to. Her other hand slowly wandered over her stomach to pull up the dress, slipping a finger inside to play with herself. It was not the first time she thought of him while touching herself, but this time something was off. Deep inside her something stopped Y/N, no matter how aroused she already was. She needed to talk to Felix. Under no circumstances she would let him ignore her for days again. Yanking the blanket away, Y/N jumped out of the bed and eagerly left the tent, turning her head furiously around to find the tall boy. He did not sit next to the others anymore and when she walked downhill to his cabin, she could feel her heart pumping furiously inside her chest. The girl stopped in front of the wooden door to knock and when no one answered she knocked again.

"Felix!" She tried to be as loud as she could be while still not attracting someone else's attention. There was still no answer and she felt dumb for even thinking it was as easy as this to find him after the previous events. He could not be far, the lost boys still needed someone who had an eye on them before someone could get hurt. Their hollering was still audible and the bonfire in the distance let Y/N see a few of them behind the bushes. For a moment she thought of going back to the clearing again, hoping to find Felix there, but the thought of meeting Piggy alone now was no good.

"Y/N." The girl suddenly heard Felix’s raspy voice behind her and she turned dazzled around, the warmest smile sitting on her lips.

Felix swayed dizzily into her direction, closing the gap between them two while he tried to keep his balance. The lost boy's head was too high up, making it impossible to steal a kiss from him now.

"What are you doing here? I told you to sleep." He asked nervously and pulled her away from his cabin towards the trees, his head constantly turning to look if someone watched. When he placed his hand on the girl's back again, his touch sent electric waves through her spine and she wondered how his slender finger would feel on her bare skin.

"Did you drink more?" She asked, noticing how he swayed more and the second in command vividly shook his head in response, grinning like a small boy on a sunny day.

"You have."

"No."

"Yes."

"Uh-Uh."

"I can cleanly tell-"

"I am-," Felix grabbed Y/N gently by the back of her neck and pulled her in, his face coming closer again. "-Not. Drunk."

She started to laugh and leaned into his grip, bringing her own hand up to touch his scar. Felix's blue eyes melted when he felt her fingers, closing them and relaxing as her touch traced as light as a feather down his skin. He relaxed for a moment and enjoyed the touch on his scarred skin, before he suddenly woke out of trance.

"The boys better not see us." He cleared his throat and broke apart, letting go of her.

"No one saw us, Felix." His name echoed through the dark forest like honey and Y/N grabbed his hand tight- she was way smaller than his. The girl felt Felix's breath in her face, how his nose almost touched hers and before he could do anything she had already closed the gap between them two, pressing her lips against his. Felix moaned surprised into her mouth but instantly grabbed her cheeks and slid his tongue inside. She could still taste the liquor and wondered if she might have taken advantage of this situation. The tall boy's moans told her otherwise. He moved his hands slowly towards the girl's waist down to her ass, cupping it rough while her smell intoxicated his senses.

"We shouldn't." He whispered and she heard him move even though it was too dark to see. Nevertheless Felix pressed himself harder against her and she felt through his pants how hard he already was from only kissing.

"Why not." She breathed against his neck, leaving a trail of kisses.

"The boys," Felix said, his eyes rolling back with a soft moan when he felt her tongue on his throat. It was enough to convince the second in command, his fingers wandered over her delicate body, burying them inside her tender flesh. It's been a long time since someone touched Y/N and she could not resist the lost boy's demanding hands. He lifted her dress and wandered with his palm over her skin to the rim of the underwear, enjoying the small moans when his fingers wandered further to her inner thigh, drawing invisible circles on it.

"Felix…" His grip tightened when he heard the girl purr his sweet name in the most delicious way and he almost could not hold himself back to tear her clothes off right at this place. The lost boy dared to slip one of his fingers inside Y/N's panties and when she did not complain, he pushed his slender index inside of her, feeling how her soft walls tightened around him. If Felix had not realised it earlier, he knew at least by now how much she craved him when he felt how wet she already was. Y/N let out a gasp when he started to push his long finger in and out of her, causing the girl's legs to tremble and her knees to shiver in excitement. She closed her eyes, giving up trying to see something in the dark as she melted into Felix's arms, her face sliding down onto his shoulder. She found her balance by grabbing the lost boy's leg and then she realised that he was kneeling in front of her. Y/N was actually glad that the surroundings were pitch black, feeling her cheeks heating up in embarrassment from her uncontrollable sweet moans. Before she would absolutely lose her mind, the girl managed to push the lost boy slightly away from her while her hands moved down to his belt. Her fingertips ran over the leather and the lost boy instantly frowned at her touch, his whole body stiffened and he stopped moving for a second.

"W-wait." He stammered, the adrenaline pushing the dizziness of the alcohol away. "I-I… never…" he continued and stopped, his hands wrapped around Y/N's wrist, insecurities overwhelming him as he held her in a safe distance. Now she really wished to see his face, well aware that he must look like earlier when he kissed her, startled and somehow shy.

"Well," she replied after a small pause, her voice echoing clear through the night, "Neither have I."

There was an awkward silence between them two and if the lost boy would not hold her by her hips, she would probably believe he was gone by now. The second in command was embarrassed for no reason, what did he fear? Y/N had no clue how to do this and if she was honest, it was way more appealing that Felix was a virgin, too, even though she did not expect that. All the time she thought he was so confident and now he was so vulnerable to her. The lost boy still did not speak, so she bent into another kiss, hoping to catch his lips in the dark. Felix gasped when he felt her lips on his scar and pulled the girl back in. This was good, they did not need to talk- should not talk. It would only make this weird. Talking would come naturally. Felix grabbed Y/N's hands gently and brought them back to his belt for her to continue what she had started. She let her fingers trail over the leather to his buckle to open it, enjoying the moment when she opened the button of his pants and slowly pulled down his zipper. The lost boy moaned inside her mouth when she slid her hand into his pants, pumping his hardened cock as best as the tight cotton would allow her to. Felix noticed her struggle and broke apart from the kiss to lift himself up and take off his clothes. Y/N heard how each piece of clothing dropped onto the ground while she waited to be told to do the same.

"Should I keep my dress on or-"

"Keep it on." Felix ordered and chuckled to himself, then pulled her back against him, his cock pressing against her stomach. The lost boy let his hands slide under the girl's dress and pulled down her panties for more access, then kneeled naked in front of her while his fingers did their magic. They felt so long and strange, making Y/N wonder if she could even handle Felix's cock. He already felt so big in her hand when she touched him again, fully exposed and hardened. The lost boy lifted one of her legs over his broad shoulder and before Y/N could even figure out what he was doing, Felix pressed his tongue against her clit. She let out a surprised gasp and giggled at the ticklish sensation. The lost boy felt how tense her leg was and reached for the girl's hand, holding it and drawing invisible circles on her palm.

"Relax." He lifted his head and lightly squeezed her fingers, caressing it a little, then pushed his mouth against her slit, his hot breath warming her as his tongue slid over her clit. The comfort of his touch relaxed Y/N instantly as if the lost boy had enchanted her somehow. He pressed his rough tongue harder against her, burying his face between her legs as he ate her out. The girl could not control herself to keep her from moaning, but led the boy's pace with it, whenever something felt good. He buried his nails into the tender flesh of her thighs and with a swift move he pushed the girl down onto the ground, pushing his fingers faster into her. She could not tell which was tongue or fingers, the overflowing sensation spread inside her body up to her eyes as she felt how she got closer to her orgasm. When Felix’s jaw started to ache he broke apart, breathing heavily and leaving Y/N craving for more on the cold ground in the exact moment she would almost finish. Without saying a word the lost boy pulled himself up to her, placing some sloppy kisses on her mouth before placing his arms next to her, so that his weight would not be too much.

"I want you so much." He panted while he slowly let his thumb circle over her aroused clit.

"Felix-" She pressed her lips onto his and stroked his hardened dick and pulled his torso closer to lead him to her wet entrance. The lost boy let out an uncontrollable moan as he pressed his dick against her dripping slit that already craved him so hard, slowly gliding in to make the girl feel every piece of his mighty cock. He stayed in this position for a moment to adjust this feeling and Y/N felt herself tighten around him, excitement overwhelming her body along with the smell of the lost boy intoxicating her mind.

"Fuck!" Felix hissed as he started to move in a steady motion. His lips caught her once more, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N took a sharp breath and pushed her hand against his abdomen, when the lost boy moved, feeling like getting torn apart by him. The lost boy stopped for a moment, shoving one arm under her neck to hold her while his lips softly traced over her chest. After a short moment, Felix moved again. Y/N buried her nails into his skin and rolled her eyes back as the lost boy thrusted into her core, slowly feeling herself relaxing in this position after a few strokes. The pain faded away and she melted into Felix's body as if he was meant to hold her. The sweetest words kept unsaid, too embarrassing, too emotional, still, there was something inside them both that felt more than just enjoying sex. It was Felix who took her virginity and the thought of being the one who took his let her heart skip faster. The second in command felt like a dream,- his sweaty, hot skin pressed tight against hers, his abs flexed and hardened during every move and he was just so fucking tall. Felix moved both of his hands down and cupped her naked butt, lifting Y/N up and pressing her against the bark of a tree. He buried his fingers into her tender flesh and left a trail of kisses on her neck as far as he would reach her. The lost boy held Y/N as if she weighed nothing, pressing her body tightly against his skin. She could not resist sinking her teeth into his neck, sucking on the delicate spot until she was sure he would not leave without a mark. As soon as Felix realised what she was doing, he pulled her head back by her hair. To his own surprise, she let out a light moan, feeling even more excited from his big hand in them.

"The boys can't know." Felix purred into Y/N's ear before he licked over her neck, sinking his teeth lightly into her shoulder to hold him back from letting out another moan.

"Harder!" The girl commanded for Felix's surprise, who had already thought he was already being too rough with her. The lost boy followed the order, pressing himself tighter against her before he paced up, pumping in and out. The sudden sensation flooded Y/N's body and she knew there was something building up inside her, an indescribable feeling of being high. Felix moans got higher, sometimes even stuck in his throat and she was sure he was close too and that he desperately wanted to climax. Before she could realise it, Felix swayed them back onto the ground, gripping her ankles and pressing them against his legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck to capture the lost boy in another kiss.

"I am almost-" Felix spoke in a hoarse tone. It was so dark and Y/M really wished she could see his face at this moment. Felix was so vulnerable right now and even though his moans were the most beautiful melody in her ears, just the thought of a short glimpse of his face made her feel hotter.

"Felix." She purred when he suddenly hit a spot that would not stop making her feel like being on ecstasy.

"I-." She gasped when the knot inside her stomach released and she felt her orgasm roaring through her body with thousands of tiny, electric waves. Jaw clenched and eyes pinched, Felix gave it to her in short, powerful bursts, filling her up with throbbing pumps. His abs flexed and his hands tightened around her ankles. He cursed. His body tensed, and she swore she felt his cock pulsing inside of her as he came in waves, thrusting in and out until he felt himself getting soft.

"Fuck…" Felix let her legs fall to the side as he bent to rest his head on her sweaty chest. "That was…"

She combed her fingers through his messy hair, almost out of words how incredibly good she felt. "That was something."

"Yeah." He kissed the spot between her breasts, "It was."

Felix pulled his dick out, not even seeing the mess he made but still wanting more. Neither of them wanted that night to end and for a while, Felix tried to find his clothes and Y/N thought of how she would clean herself up.

"C'mon." Felix whispered and she heard him step away.

"Wait!" Y/N called and quickly grabbed her underwear- well, the only choice right now-, cleaning herself with it, before running after the tall blonde and crashing into his back.

"Easy, love." He chuckled and grabbed her under one of his arms and strutted towards the dark in one direction, knowing this place perfectly, even drunkenly and without light.

"Where are we going?" The girl asked after what felt like an eternity for her, but in reality it was just a few minutes. The trees left some space for the moonlight now and gave her a chance to take a peak from the second in command's happy face. His cheeks were dyed a deep scarlet and his hair hung messy and full sweat down his face.

"Trust me." He said and paced a little up before he came to halt in front of a big tree, the ladder up to it vanished behind some leaves. Felix climbed up first and lifted the girl up into the tree house when reached the trap door. Felix moved towards a small night desk and lit up a candle. As soon as the light flooded the room, Y/N saw the small cot and a self-made desk under one of the closed windows.

"I built it myself." The lost boy grinned and proudly watched the awe in her face. She swirled around and looked at some little carvings that were placed on the wooden table. Some of them looked like her. When Y/N's eyes detected the little sculpture, she finally understood why she never saw the results and why he burned one earlier. The girl turned around to say something, but Felix stopped her immediately. Before she could say anything, Felix dropped down onto one knee and pulled her into a kiss. His tongue slid over her lips, begging for permission to enter. Without thinking about it, she opened her mouth and felt the lost boy's hand on her hips, pressing her against his body.

"I never thought you would like me too." Felix moaned and eagerly kissed his way down her neck, back to her face and lips, repeating the same thing on the other side and showing how hungry he still was for the girl. Felix clearly had not been touched in a while, just like Y/N, so it was quite natural that they immediately would have a moment like this sooner or later. But why Felix? What was about him that made Y/N constantly crave more, causing her to feel like an addict without his drugs, whenever his lips left hers? Her cheeks heated up and she smiled in the kiss, thinking of the previous events, how Felix's hands felt on her skin. It was special to be with him and the girl's instincts told her that it was more than just sex, that Felix wanted more, too.

"I want you again." Felix licked over his lips and looked at Y/N through half-opened eyes before he slowly melted back into another kiss, this time slow and passionate, synchronising with her while his hands moved down her hips and legs. He gently rubbed his hand against her inner thigh and wandered towards her crotch, to shove a finger inside her still wet hole. He smirked dirty when he felt his mess. Y/N wanted him so much, just like he craved her, maybe even a little more.

"I want to get naked all night long." Felix purred as he pushed his fingers inside and out of Y/N, her light moans echoing in his ears. Without further commands, the girl slipped the dress over her shoulder, letting it elegantly slide down her now exposed body. Felix's cheeks flushed up into the deepest red, his eyes admiring every sight of her that he desired for so long, and truth be told, he was in awe. When the cotton touched the floor, the lost boy grabbed for the hem of his own shirt and ripped it off, then quickly unbuttoned his pants before he crossed them with his underwear through the room. When Felix pinned her down and pulled Y/N into another kiss, he was already hard again, his hot skin burning against hers as her mind drifted off into a feeling of ecstasy. The way Felix's hands trailed down her body gave her chills once more, kept her warm and made her feel wanted.

"Pan would kill us for this." She mumbled into the kiss when the girl thought of how he protected her earlier, something he never did before and sure did not keep unnoticed to the other boys as well. It worried Y/N for a moment, thinking about how Pan always found out every secret, no matter how little it was. And this was definitely not a small secret, something that could be obvious to others. Or maybe Y/N was just paranoid.

"Relax." Felix said, frowning at her words as if the same thought had bothered him for a while now, too. "He isn't here. He won't find out."

The blonde boy rolled over onto his back, pulling the girl with him so she would straddle him. The light of the candle danced over his sharp features, letting it shine in an orange light that spread down to his muscles, constantly catching her eyes as if they were glued on him. Felix always looked beautiful in the orange light of the fire. Every night she would catch herself staring at him. He was perfect.

"You look so beautiful." Felix whispered more to himself than to her, then wiped some hair out of her face. "Unbelievable that someone like you chose someone weird like me."

Before Y/N could correct him, the second in command already captured her lips with his own, burying one hand in her hair while he kneaded one of her breasts with the other one. His words only flattered the girl and she felt the burning desire to finally be one with him again and melt into his body. Felix gasped at her touch and moaned into her mouth when she wrapped her hand around his dick, slowly pumping up and down while gently rubbing at the delicate tip. His member felt long and thick in her hands, but did not scare her off like earlier. Placing the tip at her wet entrance, she slowly slid down onto him, relieved that the lost boy did not push against back,. The stretching feeling made her feel like getting torn apart all over again and she gave herself a moment to adjust to the size. The lost boy rolled his eyes back and shut them with a loud moan when he felt her walls tightened around, rubbing his thumbs against the tender flesh of her hips, when she finally started to slowly move up and down. Seeing the ruthless second in command like this was really stunning and lovely to look at. Felix's mouth was slightly agape and the muscles on his forehead were constantly twitching, moving his eyebrows constantly around. Never had Y/N seen so much emotion in his face before. She pressed her body against the lost boy and sucked at the tender part of Felix's neck. The lost boy used that moment as a chance to turn her over, holding Y/N tight in his arm, the other one holding his weight so he would not suffocate her while he was pumping in and out. Y/N moaned in ecstasy and ran her hands over his muscular back, feeling his skin against them and how his sweat dropped onto her body. She placed her legs on each side of his, clearly noticing the height difference and feeling like a delicate doll as he embraced her. Felix paced up and she rolled her eyes back when he entered in another angle to come even deeper. She never wanted this to stop and kept feeling how the lost boy filled her with his thick manhood, smelling his scent and feeling his hot skin burning against hers. Felix kissed his way down to her chest and caught one of her nipples between his lips, lightly starting to suck on them and intensing it with each time he thrusted in. These were the final strokes that caused Y/N's legs to shiver and tense up every muscle in her body as her climax roared through her whole body, up into her eyes into the back of her head. The lost boy grabbed Y/N's shoulders and when he came, too, the light of the candles danced in his beautiful, scrunched up face. It was a lie to say she did not like that view and the squeaking sound he made when Felix felt his orgasm deep inside her with throbbing pumps. Felix rolled next to the girl, trying to catch his breath and when he did so, he grabbed a towel from the bed for her.

"We could have used the bed." Y/N broke the soothing silence after a while and Felix chuckled, then nodded in agreement.

"Next time." He grinned, pulling his boxers up and placing himself back onto the ground. His eyes did not stop looking at the girl while she grabbed her dress and pulled it back over herself. For a long time they just looked at each other, laughing and giggling, kissing each other but remaining silent. This was clearly something none of them expected to happen.

"What do you see in me?" Y/N suddenly asked, caughting the lost boy off guard, his facial expression went into full confusion. It took him a moment to think about her question before he simply smiled. His eyes would always melt at her sight and in that moment she needed no words from him to realise how much he was in love with her. The lost boy pulled Y/N closer to him and placed her head against his chest, lifted her on his arms and carried her to the bed where he would let himself fall onto the soft mattress. His legs hung over the wooden frame as he gently rubbed his hands over her back while listening to the beat of his heart.

"I would never let anyone harm you." His voice was just a warm breeze on her earlobe, tickling her like a gentle kiss.

"What about Pan?" She asked after a while and took a glimpse at his relaxed face and how her question did not seem to have woken any worries inside him now. He had brushed it off earlier.

"I think, actually, he knew way before me." Felix chuckled low and shook his head unbelieving. "He gave me a chance I got wasted."

#felix ouat #ouat felix #parker croft #ouat felix imagine #ouat felix x reader #ouat felix smut

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theoreticslut · 2 years

Text

「 family costumes 」

aaron hotchner x fem reader

requested: no

warnings: none

-Aaron had been excited for Halloween since the end of august

-ever since you started talking about & looking at matching costumes

-there was no way he could stop a smile from fixing itself on his face at the thought of you, him, & Jack matching together

-especially when you were beyond sweet with it

-you had started by asking Jack what he wanted to go as

-& when he said he wanted to go as his favourite superhero

-aka his dad

-you couldn’t be more thrilled

-not only were you soft at the idea of Jack wanting to be like his dad

-but you were already thinking of what could go along with an ‘Aaron’ look

-Aaron remembers the day you had finally figured it out

-you had practically bounced off the walls waiting to tell him

-“what sweetie?”

-“I’ve got the perfect group costume idea! I want your opinion on it though.”

-he couldn’t help but smile as your pure excitement

-so he let you explain your idea

-while conveniently leaving out the specifics of jacks costume

-since he wanted to surprise his dad

-“so Jack wants to be a superhero? And you’re thinking we could go as a cop and a criminal?”

-“yeah! What do you think?”

-“I love it, darling. Who’s going as what?”

-“well…that’s up to you baby. What do you want to go as?”

-after some discussion you finally settle on Aaron being the criminal while you dress up as the cop

-honestly, he was nothing but willing to let you dress as a cop

-partly bc of how excited you were at the idea

-& partly bc he was excited at the idea of what you’d look like in it

-so throughout the rest of September and beginning of October you work on getting the pieces for all of your costumes

-& Aaron can’t help but love how excited you are while doing so

-he’d come back from a case to hear yours and jack’s excitement for jack’s costume

-and he couldn’t wait to finally see it all put together

-when Halloween does finally come around; you are more than ready

-you and Jack get ready at home

-but you pack up Aaron’s costume so he can change at the office

-you are beyond excited to show the team your matching costumes

-& even more excited for the team and Aaron to see jack’s costume!

-“y/n! Great to see you!” Derek calls soon as you and Jack exit the elevator

-“hey sweetheart, Hey bud! Don’t you two look amazing.” Aaron would praise

-you’d smile, greeting him with a kiss as the team gathers around to say hi

-“I thought you were going as a superhero, Jack?” Aaron would ask

-“I am, dad. I’m you!”

-watching Aaron melt at his sons words with the rest of the team was a sight you’d never forget

-“aw, Jack” JJ coos, smiling at the young boy

-“well aaron, how do you fit into this?” Rossi asks

-“glad you asked, dave. His costume is right here!”

-laughing, Aaron would happily take the costume from you

-excusing himself to change

-when he finally returns, you can’t help but break out into a smile while the team cheers and chuckles

-“perfect, hon! Come here”

-with a smile he’d come over to stand with the two of you, properly showing off your costumes

-the team loved it

-all of them chuckling and taking pictures, happy to see aaron so happy with his little family

-& you were just happy to have all of them

-life would be a lot less fun if you didn’t have your loving boyfriend and his amazing son

-nor would it be the same if aaron wasn’t a part of the team

-you were just glad to have them here

-& to be able to spend the holiday with them all

#criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #cm headcanons #aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher x reader #aaron hotchner headcanon

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

Running In Circles - Chapter 2

Word Count: 2,663

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter Description: The team goes back to work as Aaron Hotchner considers retiring from the team and spend time with his son. (Y/n) can’t help but provide emotional support for the Hotchner boys.

A/N: I enjoy angst and slow burns way too much XD. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 2

Once it was over, the interviews came. We knew the story. We lived it. The case was open and shut. They could try and make us pint it all on Hotch, the easy way out, but we knew better. And we would stand next to our unit chief whatever the price.

Haley’s funeral was no easier than being at the scene. It was a somber day and the sadness was imprinted in us. We all walked with dropped shoulders and a tight chest. I stood between Derek and Reid, using Morgan as support because I felt that my legs would give out at any moment. My father stood behind me rubbing circles on my back to comfort me. As we laid the roses on top of the casket, we laid to rest the life of Haley, a woman I only knew through the loving words Hotch spoke of.

The group did not know what to do to help the heartbroken man. It would take time to heal even just the smallest bit of his heart. All we could hope for was that he would come back to the team.

At the worst possible moment, the phone rings. No other team available and someone in need, we had to go to work. We all rolled our eyes or shook our heads; this was the job. But would it be the same without him?

I went to Hotch before we left and gave him a hug.

“Call me if you guys need anything,” he said.

“Just take care of your son,” I smiled, and he softly returned one of his own. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and left to join the team.

On the plane, we were caught up with the case. We stored all our feelings and got the machines running. We needed to finish this quickly and perfectly.

Two women, both brunettes and young, high-powered executives, murdered in their own homes, the floor around them decorated with flower petals. After Emily and Derek visited the crime scene, we had another part of the puzzle, the unsub was stalking his victims. Everything just seemed so perfect and staged, there was no way he was not prepared.

I stayed with JJ in the station working on the announcement and trying to figure something else from the details provided and the crime scene photos, but JJ could see my head wasn’t in it completely for the first time.

“Hey,” she said, taking my attention from the piece of paper I had been eyeing for the past five minutes. “What’s on your mind? Talk to me.”

“Is it wrong that I feel bad for being here?” I sighed. “Working like nothing’s happened.”

“Of course not, we all feel a bit guilty,” she smiled. “I know you most of all.”

My eyes opened in shock.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). Everyone knows you have a not-so-secret crush on Hotch,” she laughed. “The only one that can’t see it is him. And probably your dad. Parents can be quite oblivious to their children’s feelings in this way.”

My head flew into my hands to cover the embarrassment that was flooding my cheeks. It was one thing to assume the whole team knew, another was to have it confirmed.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), we’ll see what comes of it. What I can say is that you can’t let this stop you from doing your job.”

She smiled one last time and it was all I needed to push Aaron Hotchner to the back of my mind and bring the case forward.

“Find anything?” My father asked entering the small room at the police station, Reid following behind.

“Several people had access to each home,” I said rubbing my temple. “Housekeeper, gardener, pool cleaner, dog walker…”

“Each with their own key and an alibi to match,” JJ added, an annoyed tone rolling off her tongue.

“Any crossover?”

“None. We even vetted delivery people and utility workers.” I sighed.

“Garcia, do you have anything?” Reid said, sitting down.

“There’s no hits at the prints at all. But I did what Sir Derek there asked, and I created a paper trail,” Penny explained. “There’s no cross-over between the two victims themselves in the weeks leading up to their murders, but they did run in similar circles.”

Penelope continued to explain how both victims lived quite a lavish and high-class lifestyle as Emily and Derek joined us. We figured this man would fit right in this crowd. Educated, intelligent, a gentleman. What we had yet to pinpoint was how the unsub entered the homes with no signs of forced entry. It was clear we were not going to make any headway tonight and Derek knew it too. So, he decided we should be done for the day and we would come back tomorrow well-rested and with fresh eyes.

That night I laid in the bed of my hotel room staring at the ceiling. All I could think of was Hotch and everything he was going through. I could only imagine.

And as if by fate, my phone rang. Aaron Hotchner.

“Hello?”

“Oh,” Hotch said surprised. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I haven’t been able to sleep.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I guess I’m just worried about you.”

He chuckled softly. “You really shouldn’t.”

“But I do, Hotch.”

He stayed silent, only his slow breathing was heard through the phone.

“Did I fail her?” He asked after some minutes of comfortable silence.

“Absolutely not.”

“I promised her that I would catch Foyet and spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“And you still can.”

“But” he exhaled loudly. “How?”

“By being the best father you can be to Jack and continue living your life in the best way you can.”

“You know, Dave told me that I had to figure out what kind of father I wanted to be and then I’d know what to do. But I have no idea what that is.”

“Hotch…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what kind of father I am. I catch killers. I save lives. I’m a hero until my key hits the front door, and then I’m just the father who’s never there. Haley was raising Jack all by herself and that was my support blanket. I was able to do my job because I knew he was cared for by another parent. A better parent.”

He sobbed softly as the last words escaped his mouth.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, trying my best not to sound angry. “To that little boy, you are the only real hero that exists. He knows that when you’re not home it’s because you’re out here catching the bad guys like Foyet and making the world better for his sake. He knows that everything you do is out of love for him.

You know, when I was little my dad was absent quite a lot because of this job, but there was one thing that I knew for sure, that he loved me more than anything and that he worked better and faster because he wanted to come back home to me. And never ever have I resented him for leaving and catching the bad guys. He’s the reason I became an FBI agent.

You are an amazing father and anything you choose will be the right thing for Jack.”

After a minute of sobs, Hotch started to calm down.

“Thank you, (Y/N). You have no idea how much I needed that right now,” he cleared his throat. “How’s the case going?”

“Nope,” I laughed. “Not going to talk about the case.”

“Really?” He chuckled.

“Yes, Hotch. Take a breather. You deserve it.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, and I could hear his smile through the phone.

We had been talking for about an hour when I heard him yawn.

“Seems you’re getting sleepy there, Hotchner.” I laughed. “We should both get some rest. If it’s 3 am over here it must be 2 am in Washington. So, good night and see you soon.”

“Good night, (Y/N). Again, thank you. Sweet dreams.” And he hung up.

And finally, I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, we were up and ready for business.

“We believe our unsub is already with his next victim,” my father started. “If he matches the patter, she’ll be a successful woman, probably brunette, early 30s to mid-40s. She’ll be at home in Nashville’s upper echelon.”

“This means that he fits in,” I explained. “He drives the right car, he wears the right clothes, he’s highly intelligent. He probably comes from a place of status.”

“This guy’s sociable and he’s endearing,” said Morgan. “You would never suspect that this man is capable of murder. But he will do whatever it takes to protect the fantasy that he’s trying to relive.”

“It’s this fantasy which fuels his drive. He’s reliving a romantic evening and recreating it with each of his victims.”

“He most likely had a relationship taken away from him,” Derek crossed his arms. “So, look at men who have lost loved ones or have gone through a messy divorce.”

After finishing with the profile, we set out to establishments that fit the criteria to possibly get a suspect. As we worked, we got a call. Another crime scene, but this one was different.

A male victim. Overkill on the female. Something made him change his M.O.

Out in the garage, Reid and I looked for any sort of clues and I noticed his sight direct to the car. There may be another way we could connect the victims and how the unsub made their way into their homes.

Finally, Garcia had something with the hunch Spencer had figured. She overlaid all the geographical routes the victims had taken against the geo profile to show what we were missing with any paper trail. Although it was not a clear answer, Erika Silverman was the only one that did not fit the extravagant lifestyle and she only went and came from her work or her home. Except on Tuesday, where she went to the Botanical Gardens, what was she doing there? JJ, Reid, and I left for the gardens to find out.

And just as we had suspected, there had been an event to which Erika had attended. And a puzzle piece revealed itself.

“An event up here would be a hard sell for women in heels,” JJ commented.

“Well, most of our private events hire valets to drive the cars down to the base of the park so they don’t have to hike it up the hill.”

“Who had access to your keys but goes unseen?” Reid asked.

“And to your GPS,” I added.

“Dealerships program your home address into the navigation system before your car even leaves the lot.”

“He had turn-by-turn directions straight to her front door and the keys to get him inside,” I pointed.

We now had how he got his victims and how he entered their house without force. Now, all we had to do was pinpoint his next victim and see who he was.

JJ was instructed to get dad and Prentiss to pick up the owner of the valet service used in the event, and Derek, Reid, and I stayed behind to canvass the employees. We could catch this guy in action unless he had already gotten his next victim.

Joe Belser. That was our unsub. With the profile, the owner was able to point out the suspect quickly. And off we were.

JJ, Reid, and I headed to the venue and the rest of the team went to Belser’s house. He wasn’t in the apartment, but they had found the meaning behind the roses and universal garage door openers. In the venue, Reid called Garcia to see which of the VIP guests could be the next potential victim.

Ann Herron was the next victim, and he was already at her house.

“FBI! PUT IT DOWN!” Derek screamed, blinding Joe with his flashlight. I walked in from behind Derek and kneed Belser’s stomach. He fell to the ground groaning and Emily grabbed the man by the throat to immobilize him.

“Fantasy’s over,” she spat. “Is that what you did to them? You hit them to shut them up and then forced them to play along with your sick delusion?”

��“I love them,” Joe said sinisterly.

“You’re finally gonna meet your soulmate, Joe,” I added from behind Prentiss. “In prison.”

“Only you’re not gonna be able to push him around like you did those women,” Emily continued. “And when he comes for you in the middle of the night, when you’re least expecting it, you do me a favor. Play along.”

She stood the man up forcibly and put him in handcuffs and I went outside to check on the victim.

“How is she?” Derek asked walking out of the house with my father.

“She’s strong,” I said closing the ambulance door. “She’ll make it. But you don’t survive something like that without scars.”

“Scars remind us where we’ve been,” my father commented. “They don’t have to dictate where we’re going.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my head as we walked back to the SUVs, finally on our way home.

The next day, I called up my dad so he would accompany me to Haley’s grave. Something told me I had to go. At the cemetery, I saw what the pull was. Sitting in front of the headstone less grave was Hotch. I walked up to him first, my father close behind. Hotch lifted his head and stared into my eyes, sitting up slightly.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” I spoke softly. “Have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?” He mused.

“That you’re coming back to the team,” my father joined his left side. Hotch looked at him. “That fighting the bad guys is who you are.”

Hotch lowered his head and shook it. “I don’t have to tell her. She already knows.”

I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and gave him a soft smile. My father did the same and walked to my side, so we’d retreat, giving Hotch some space.

“So, do you want me to drive you back to your house?” My father asked.

“No,” I smiled. “I’m gonna stay with Hotch for a bit and then I’ll go home.”

“Okay, darling.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll pick you up on Monday then. Ciao, Mia Bella.”

“Bye, dad.”

Once my dad left, I sat down on a bench and waited for Hotch.

“(Y/N), you’re still here?” Hotch questioned with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, thought you might want some company.”

“Truthfully,” he chuckled. “I do. Thank you.”

“How about this, we pick up Jack, you guys come over and I crack open a present I had for Jack.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he motioned me to his car. “Let’s go.”

We drove quietly to his apartment, only the low volume of the radio and the sound of our breathing could be heard. It didn’t take long to arrive at the complex, where he opened the car door for me and led me upstairs. Inside apartment #121, was Jessica Brooks, Haley’s sister, and Jack playing a card game.

“(Y/N)!” Jack screamed as soon as I walked through the door, running to give me a hug.

“Hey, buddy!” I hugged back.

“Hotch, you’re back,” she exclaimed. “Good to see you again, (Y/N).”

“Good to see you, too,” I smiled. “How you holding up?”

“As good as I can be.” She answered as she began to gather her things. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye, little guy.”

“Bye, Aunt Jessica.”

“Bye, guys.” She said as she left.

“Hey, little man,” I directed to Jack. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“How about you to pack a go-bag and you and dad come over so we can open a present I have for you?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed as he sped off to his room to pack.

“I think you should go help him,” I smiled at Hotch. “If I have any memory of being a kid, they’re not very good at packing.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Maybe I should.”

I waited for both father and son to pack for the night asking myself why I was putting myself in this position. Growing closer to a man I had a 0% chance with. But I couldn’t help it. All in all, he was my friend, and he needed all the support he could get.

<- Previous | Next->

A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

some cute hotch/rossi headcanons

I refuse to call them Hossi. I just refuse.

Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY @whoreforthebauteam!! You’re real present will come at some point but it’s taking forever so... have these instead? I love you x

Also it was so hard to make all of these wholesome like do you know how much angst I wanted to put in but refrained because they’re meant to be a birthday present??

Hotch is always really cold and Rossi is always really warm and Rossi is always complaining about that, but he secretly loves it because it means he hold Aaron and warm him up

Rossi is one of the few people that actually knows what Hotch’s preferred coffee is (this is because he made the wrong one when they were at home and Hotch was less guarded and spat it out) so he’s always the one to make it for him and none of the team ever know what goes into it

When Dave proposed, he had this really elaborate plan in mind but he also knew that wouldn’t be what Aaron wanted, so he ended up doing it at home when they were in bed. Aaron walked in with wet hair that was falling in his face and wearing his Harvard t-shirt (think of Greg Montgomery) and Dave just want: God I want to marry you. Aaron was like: Ask me properly then, and Dave did

Aaron hates spiders so he always makes Dave get a glass and piece of paper and take them out. Dave finds it hilarious that this federal agent with a permanent scowl will squeal at the sight of a spider, but he never complains

Dave’s two main love languages are physical touch and gifts. This is perfect because Aaron is touch-starved and doesn’t care about himself enough, so Dave is always finding reasons to touch him- even if it’s just placing an assuring hand on his shoulder, and excuses to buy him expensive things because he can. Aaron is terrible at accepting gifts but even worse at rejecting them, which is how he ends up with suits that fit him and a new watch

Aaron doesn’t really know how to say I Love You verbally, but he says it in so many other small ways that mean so much more to Dave. It’s in the slight smile he gives him when they make eye contact, or the way that he asks if everything is okay when a case is difficult, and in the way that he always makes him tea for the way home

Every Friday, if they’re at home, they cook together. Most days involve Hotch getting back later than Rossi or spending time with Jack, but on Fridays, Jack sits on a stool and watches his dad cook together. Hotch will do the more rigid things like slicing and Dave will do the things like adding spices because he’s a lot more liberal

For two men that have to make very serious decisions on an almost daily basis, they’re terrible at choosing films because they can never agree so they either end up not watching anything or letting Jack pick

Hotch prefers Rossi’s shower gel to his own, so if Rossi has to go away for a few days for a book tour or whatever, Hotch will shower using his instead of his own because then it feels like he still has a piece of him

When they started coaching Jack’s soccer team, they weren’t dating because Hotch refused to date someone he couldn’t be completely honest with, so Dave always got introduced as a friend. After they started dating, Dave would be like: I’m Aaron’s partner and Aaron would love that it was finally true

Aaron loves forehead kisses. Absolutely loves them. They remind him of being a child and simpler times, but he’s always been too shy to ask for them. Rossi kisses him on the forehead a few times because he’s in a rush and notices how relaxing Aaron finds it, so then he starts finding excuses to do it just because

Their tastes in books differs. By a lot. Where Aaron loves cliche romances and period romances and the romantic classics, Dave loves dystopias, crime novels and science fiction. However, Dave will always make an exception if it means he can read aloud to Aaron because Aaron will just rest his head in Dave’s lap and let the words soothe him

Dave is one of the few people that knows just how well Aaron can sing. Aaron does it all the time in the shower, but he always thinks he’s subtle about it so Dave never said anything until one day he started humming the same song Aaron had been singing and Aaron realised

Dave is an excellent dancer. Aaron is not because he’s uncoordinated and gets self conscious. This leads to many Saturday evenings where Dave will hold out his hand and be like: Just let go for a few minutes and indulge me because I love you and Aaron can never say no.

Okay, I know everyone hates her, but Ashley Seaver didn’t have anyone to attend her graduation for obvious reasons. Aaron knew what it was like so he dragged Dave along and they cheered so loudly when her name got called out and she was in tears because they loved her so much. Someone said she was lucky to have such wonderful fathers and neither of them rejected it

It’s a given that if driving is involved, the two of them will go together, but what nobody knows is that a longer journey involves Taylor Swift’s Speak Now being put on and the two of them a) YELLING the words to Enchanted and b) hating on John Mayer cos... yeah

Their first kiss ended with Morgan thinking one of them was the unsub because their unsub was making out with the victims so he was like: THERE! And the team came running over with their lights and guns and stuff only to realise it was them two. It was a very awkward discussion with the sheriff but Strauss found it hilarious to read about

After they got together, a lot of the conversations Strauss and Rossi had became about Hotch and his cute butt and his early days at the BAU. Hotch only found out because he walked into one and he was so mortified that Strauss thought he had a cute butt that he refused to look her in the eyes for a good week

Hotch likes wearing Rossi’s shirts because they make him feel warm and Rossi likes seeing Hotch wearing them because he’s that kind of person, and normally this is fine, but then Hotch has a meeting with a Very Important FBI Person who goes: Agent Hotchner, why are you wearing Agent Rossi’s shirt? And Hotch is just like: Because... we... I? And the Very Important FBI Person is just like: HAHA I TOLD YOU THEY WERE TOGETHER

Nothing ever has or ever will make David Rossi smile as much as seeing Aaron Hotchner with his guard down as he plays with his son, doing whatever it is he wants, apart from maybe the moments where Hotch will turn and smile at him and it becomes clear that he understands that he deserves both the love from Dave and the love from Jack

#criminal minds #headcanons #criminal minds headcanons #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner #david rossi #hotch x rossi #hossi #just two idiots in love #look at me being wholesome #does this make up for valentine's day?

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Lie to Me

Guess who's back on their shit?

Another cancer fic for you because there's something very weird about me that stays drawn to the idea of secretly being sick

Anyways

Warnings: well... cancer

Pairings: none? yet.

Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner has a certain reputation around the office. The BAU’s ghost, walking around in his leather dress shoes and fancy suits without so much as a groan from the old, torn tile beneath his feet or the muffled swish of the material of his slacks. You never know he’s there until he wants you to and by then it’s always too late. By luck of his poor hearing or his natural affinity for silence, nothing admitted in his silent presence ever graces his lips for a repeat. The secrets all die with him. He’s as loyal as a dog -- in ways that lead to natural gravitation. The reason why Penelope Garcia beams at him every time their paths cross, why she so eagerly rushes to match his pace. To just walk beside him and talk his ear off even though she knows her answers will come in the form of soft hums and furrowed brows. In other ways, it’s killed him. Left him to live the life of a lame dog, dragging his dying body away from them. Hoping to spare them the agony of his death.

Some things that people say about SSA Hotchner are true. He really does move like a ghost and it’s a thing of great mystery and annoyance. It’s cost Emily Prentiss numerous mugs but perhaps the flash of his smug crooked grin makes that worth the shattered cup at their feet (she wouldn’t agree with that statement). He’s made Derek Morgan nearly jump out of his skin, whirling around to attack whatever snuck up on him only to find Hotch frowning back at him. If asked, David Rossi will blame Hotch for 79% of the grey hairs on his head because he hadn’t even begun to go grey until he met Hotch.

He’s really not as scary as people make him out to be.

Penelope Garcia wishes everyone knew that. She wishes cadets looked at Hotch the way that they look at Derek and Spencer. As awe-inspiring giants, they crane their necks to look up to. Instead, they lower their eyes away from him. Whispering to one another about the rumors and the things that they have been told. They regard him as a lesson -- someone to measure their existence against. To know when to get out of the job. To know when they can no longer turn back.

He’d saved her when it seemed no one else in the world really looked at her. She’d watched him take her homemade pink stationary in his hands, held it delicately as he looked over what menial ideas she could think of. He’d looked at her kindly, not at all like the snobby FBI brat she assumed him to be, and shaken her hand, “Thank you, Miss Garcia.” For the months following her career change, he’d been too kind. Brought her lunch to her desk because she was too anxious to leave her office. Gave her advice about where to park and how to miss Strauss in the hallways.

As important as his approval is to her, his well-being is more important. So, no, she doesn’t turn away when she sees him on Saturday in the emergency room. He’s sleeping off a cocktail they’d given him, turns out it’s rather hard to place a catheter near the heart when it’s beating erratically. His anxiety had nearly caused him to be sick and so he’d agreed, finally, to let them give him something to calm him down. Which is where Garcia finds him, left arm cradled to his chest, too long limbs hanging off the stretcher, and breathing slow and steady through the oxygen canal under his nose. A precaution, that’s all, given the sedatives they’d doped him up with.

“Sir?”

The fingers in his left-hand twitch, flexing towards his palm and he grunts softly at the pain that the movement causes. Slowly, breathing hitching and his eyes fluttering open, he wakes up. He’d heard, vacantly, the hesitant “sir” from the end of the bed but he assumed it was a nurse. As his eyes rise up to search the room he’s surprised, entirely so that he thinks he’s hallucinating, to find Penelope.

“Are you okay?”

He’s still piecing together the last few hours but nods. Cracking open his dry lips he swallows thickly, trying to work his voice around the tightness in his throat. Dehydrated and still disoriented he reaches for the cup of water left for him but at the current angle that he’s laying at, he can’t get it. He clears his throat, sniffling, “can you, ugh--” He’s still looking at the cup, dazed to the point he can’t think of the words he means to say. Tired eyes look back at her, pleading silently that she understands.

Penelope nods, moving forward instinctively. She doesn’t look at him, at his dark blood dried to his arm. His hospital gown stopping just at the clear protective barrier between her and the port placed on the inside of his arm. “Here,” she whispers. She needs to be closer so he doesn’t have to stretch but can’t bring herself to be close. Not within his reach. Not so close that she can see the dark rings of sleepless nights carved under his eyes. Far enough away that the tremble in his hand is easily overlooked. So that he doesn’t seem as weak and frail as his voice sounds.

He sips the water, knows from too many mistakes not to drink too much just yet. “Why are you here?” He nearly sounds like himself, dark brows furrowed and voice taken its steady, deep rhythm back.

She looks over her shoulder, past the curtain pulled around them for the sake of privacy. “I, uhm, volunteer for a support group that meets every Saturday here at the hospital.” She points to the front desk, to a woman with curly hair pulled back in two ponytails. “I came downstairs to say hi to Mac and I saw you and I just…” Suddenly, realizes how she shouldn’t be here. That if he wanted comfort he’d have told them, or someone.

Wait. Stop.

That doesn’t matter. Hotch doesn’t know what’s good for him. Everyone knows that. So she made the right decision to come over here.

“You’re not driving yourself home, right?”

In her silent contemplation, he’d began to fall asleep again. The cup in his hand dangerously tipped and eyes held open by slow, deepening blinks.

“Hotch?” She touches his hand, flinching away at just how cold his skin is.

He cracks his eyes back open, cracks of soft brown iris finding her slowly. He hums, mouth cracked open.

“Will you let me take you home?”

Home. He hums again, vaguely aware of her warm hand coming to rest over his. Moving his stiff fingers away from the cup, taking it from him so he doesn’t spill it over himself.

It’s meticulous work, keeping him awake. Even harder making sure he gets dressed but once he’s sitting up he’s much more alert, grumpy now for being duped into asking her for help. She’d offered it but that means nothing to him. He’s no less thrilled to find his brain too foggy and arm too weak to work his arm through his sweater. She still smiles when his head pops through, hair a crazy mess on his head.

She packs him carefully into her car, a boxy little thing he’d frowned at when she bought it. He’d been the reason behind Morgan and Reid both coming to her office with statistics and fear about the safety of it but she’d loved it. He’s a worrier, prone to stewing and her car had taken up a lot of his energy for the first year she owned it. Now he’s being packed into the green monstrosity, senses assaulted by incense. Everything’s sparkly and he ends up sitting with a teddy bear in his lap, a troll in his hand. He’d taken their rightful place as her passenger.

His legs do not fit no matter how far back he moves his seat back and Penelope feels awful that he looks so uncomfortable but also finds it to be humorous. His knees to his ears, dark scary Agent Hotchner holding a stuffed bear to his chest, head resting against the window. It’s sweet.

It’s fairly easy to figure what his thought process today when she pulls up to his house and no one’s home. Jack’s camping, she learns. He’s dozed off again, prone and more willing to whisper half-truths. Will be away for the whole weekend until Tuesday morning. Jessica is getting her nails and hair done, he’d made the appointment just to make sure she really did it. The haircut should have ended just in time that he could call her and ask if she’d pick him up from the hospital. Where he thought he would have already artfully hidden the PICC line under his sweater and played the affair off as a routine sort of deal. A check-up.

“Sir…” she’s standing now, awkwardly, in his living room. The curtains are drawn back the way he likes, closing off the sun. He’s tucked under his heating blanket, trying to remain awake for the sake of the fact that it’s rude to fall asleep while entertaining guests. Yet, failing miserably. “Sir, I was just wondering… Is everything okay?”

“I’m--” the truth nearly slips right out. He clears his throat, managing to sit up just enough to catch her eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Garcia. Jessica will be around in an hour.” He holds his left hand closed, trying to stop his cramped fingers from twitching. “Dave and Emily are coming by for dinner. I’ll be okay.”

It’s completely unethical.

It’s so unprofessional.

But she can’t help herself.

Her eyes prick with tears when Emily shakes her head in the kitchenette, the sound of Hotch’s wet coughs breaking through his closed office door. “He needs to get that checked out,” she sighs, hiding her bleeding worry with annoyance. “Sounds awful.” And Penelope stands there with Hotch’s secret tongue-tied.

He’s getting worse and fast.

She gets a call from Derek, seething anger laced into his words. “He fucking-- He fucking just-- .” She knows it’s really just fear. Can hear him walking, his rapid pacing as he tries to outwalk his expanse of emotions. “He -- He shouldn’t be in the field. I mean, it’s like he didn’t even see it coming. He was just…” She remains steady. Wipes the tears that slip past her eyelashes with the back of her hand. Derek cries, on the ground with his knees to his chest, and he tells her what happened. How Hotch was paying attention to him and if he hadn’t been then maybe…

She greets them at the elevator, feels her smile attempt to waver when Hotch’s tired eyes raise from the ground. The bruise along his cheek a deep agonizing yellow, the wound on his temple still weeping angrily through the bandage. He can’t fly until his concussion is healed, longer if his tinnitus doesn’t get better. “It’ll be fun having you home,” she assures him, giving his fingers an extra squeeze.

Luck, it seems, has never seemed to favor Aaron Hotchner’s particular brand of bold.

Working at the District Attorney’s had been a morally fulfilling job. In theory, he could rest assured, each night, that he was doing what he could to help people. He was putting the real bad guys behind the bars. Even as his dreams filled with the images of the victims who had to wait for months, and even years, to get their proper justice. In reality, he slept poorly and rarely. Unable to properly maintain his workload without impossibly long hours. With time he found his work to be unfulfilling. He was doing nothing to stop crime from happening and sinking further into the realization that was failing more people than he could ever begin to help.

In court, he was ruthless. Haley didn’t like the man he became in the courtroom. Ruthless and harsh, he appeared evil and terrifying with his hawk-like eyes and infallible ability to pinpoint weaknesses in his opposers. Around the office, they nicknamed his alter-ego “Hot-head Hotchner” because the Aaron that gets flushed ordering lunch couldn’t possibly be the same man who made a man wet himself on the stand. Haley couldn’t agree more.

Hot-head Hotchner got him offered a job in corporate law, several firms were throwing big numbers at him to encourage that lasered focus to be on their side. Lest they find themselves opposing it. Morally, he could never go into corporate law but the offer to spend hours bending law into something pliable and poking holes in judicial wordings was compelling. It would be complex, rewarding work with a big pay-out. Better than the shitty salary he made at the D.A.’s office. Before he could make the compromise he met David Rossi and he never got his chance to bend the law to his will, he held his moral ground and instead changed career paths.

It was bold leaving what he knew he was good at for something new entirely.

A costly decision.

He never got to fulfill his secret desire to mold the law but bending the truth wasn’t a far cry from the same thing. Lying has never been something he felt comfortable with and that had no exceptions. He hadn’t wanted to tell the team Emily had died but that had far less to do with his morals and so much more to do with a picture much bigger than himself. The hell he knew that would rain down upon them in the weeks to come. The inability of the team to cope. Intuitively something holding them back and what they could only assume was a stage of grief.

To Emily Prentiss, he has never lied. Stretched versions of the truth he maintains to not be the same thing as a lie. If they count then his answer would be different but the eye of the beholder adds context. And as the holder of this context, he resolutes the power to declare them very different.

“New girlfriend?”

He’s breathing through a bought of nausea attempting to take him off his feet. The cold countertop biting into the skin of his wrist, his palm pressed flat to the surface so that he doesn’t grip the edge. So that his pale bloodless knuckles holding onto dear life do not betray the severity of which he fears he might get sick or pass out.

His phone is on the counter, turned upside down so that he doesn’t have to see the screen light up with every new text that comes through. The high-pitched “ding” of each new message is lost to the tinnitus he’s been succumbing to now for the better part of the week. No amount of coffee or Tylenol has helped.

Raising his gaze makes the pounding in his head worse but he has to meet Emily’s questioning gaze. They’ve started to notice his “off” behavior. His inability to stand for long amounts of time without physical drain. His decision to stay home on the last several cases, working here with Garcia rather than joining them in the field. The way he relies on Morgan’s lead more than he used to, falling silent and allowing the other man to make decisions. He suspects they just assume he’s looking into retiring or that he’s struggling to kick his “chest cold”, he doesn’t bother correcting them.

“No,” he manages, swallowing around the heaviness of his tongue. The way his mouth seems full of salival added pangs to his stomach as he knows he’s going to be sick. “It’s Jessica.” She’s angry with him and for good reason, though he doesn’t offer an explanation as to why.

Emily hums, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head. “What’d you did you do to piss her off?” In other circumstances, he might assume she’s attempting to pry. She’s just here for another cup of coffee, offering him a way to release some of his stress. No hard feelings if he suggests she fuck off and willing to lend an ear if he wants to talk. She’s not holding her breath but she hopes he comes undone. That he admits to some awful conspiracy and that this whole time they’ve been in some twisted social experiment to see how unified they actually are. That he isn’t as sick as he looks. That he’s just in a low spot and in a month he’ll be putting the weight back on and Derek will be telling them all about training for another marathon. How Reid could do more pushups than Hotch.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch whispers. He tries to step away from the counter. Feels the temperature in the room drops several degrees, his skin broken out in goosebumps. “I think to sit down,” he says frantically, knows now he needs to sit before he passes out.

Emily grabs his arm, tries to help him up. To get him to the chair that’s right there, so close.

“Hotch?” Derek jogs into the kitchen, he’d seen from afar and come running. “Emily, what’s wrong?”

Emily helps him to the ground, hand holding the back of his neck as his body starts sinking faster, beyond his control. She sits down on the ground beside him, eyes scanning across his body to find a feasible answer. Below her, Hotch’s breathing has gone rapid and shallow. His eyes rolled back into his head, neck-craning as he unconsciously fights to get air into his lungs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t know. He just-- He was just--” Hotch wheezes, an awful sound. He chokes, blood coming to paint his lips. To coat his teeth.

“Hotch?” Derek moves to his side, picking up Hotch’s shoulder to move him onto his side. “Hotch, answer me!”

His only reply is a wet gurgle, a blood-coated wheeze.

#tw cancer #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction

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jetaime-jespere · 3 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me Part 2

“I wonder what two people do in a hotel room when no one is watching.”

Rated M for smut/darker themes

April | Fourteen Months Ago

“We’re looking for two men, both about forty years old,” Aaron says calmly, surveying the small crowd of detectives that have gathered around them in the cramped Newark Police Station. They’re listening intently; two more bodies were found early that morning and the clock is now ticking faster. “They’re most likely friends. They’ve known each other for years, it’s likely they’ve been at this a long time in one way or another.”

Beside him, Emily nods assuredly as she rests her hands on her hips. Ever since he discreetly passed the coffee to her in the hotel lobby, she’d been the picture of focus, any of the doubt he’d seen the night before gone from her face. He knows her well enough to know it’s probably just an act - the art of compartmentalization at work - but it’s good enough for right now. It has to be. “Keep in mind both are alpha males, dominant personalities. This is rare in duos like this, but it makes them all the more dangerous.”

“They know the area well,” Dave adds. “Which suggests they’re local. Been around awhile. Probably born in Jersey. They probably fit right in. You wouldn’t give them a passing thought.”

“What we do know is they have no intention of stopping.” Morgan rounds out the rest of the profile. Behind him is an evidence board full of photos and hastily scribbled notes and diagrams. It’s only 10 AM yet it feels like much later. They’ve been at this for several hours already with no end in sight, the sure sign of another draining day. “Which is why we need to catch them at their own game.”

“What do you have in mind?” The weary, yet brusque Newark detective asks, his slight New York accent heavy.

“They operate at night and essentially go dark during the day. We have to get creative with this one,” Morgan reasons. “If not, we’re never going to find them.”

“I hope you’ve got something in mind.”

June | Present Day

“Maybe I’ll have that drink now.” Emily frees her arm from under his grasp with a well-timed jerk, reaching for the untouched wine glass on the table. It shakes in her hand as she takes a long sip, and Aaron prepares for it to slide from her fingers and shatter all over the table. It doesn’t, and he breathes a sigh of relief. The less attention they bring to themselves, the better. He doesn’t dare turn around to see if the others are watching. By now, they’re probably more than aware of his vacant seat at the table, sensing his absence around the dance floor.

From her place beside him, Emily pushes the glass between her hands, stares at the floral centerpiece. She’s nervous, he assesses. But then again, so is he. Aaron has thought of this moment often, what it would be like to see her again. What he (she) would say, how she (he) would react. But then, it was nothing more than a wishful fantasy. Now it’s real; he has one chance he can’t screw up. “Are you lonely there? All by yourself?” It’s one of the many thoughts that’s plagued him in the long nights he’s lain awake, staring at the ceiling for hours at a time. The thought of her alone, some four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean, is never far from his mind. He’s known her long enough to know she appreciates some level of anonymity, that she’s always been fiercely independent. Yet it doesn’t change the fact that she’s bearing the burden alone, something that seems cruelly unfair.

“Lonely isn’t the word I’d use.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Let me ask you, Aaron. Are you lonely? Have you moved on?”

“Moved on?” He stares at her in disbelief. “What do you think, Emily? You up and left days after we buried him. Things aren’t … things aren’t the same now. None of us have just moved on, you know. We didn’t just lose him. We lost you too.”

She regards him for a moment, as if she’s never considered the question before, and not exactly sure how to answer it. “London is where I belong now,” Emily says coolly, swirling the wine around in the glass. The dark red liquid clings to the side; remnants of her lipstick stain the outer rim. “It’s for the better, anyway. For all of us.”

“If it’s where you belong, if that’s what you think, then what’s your third reason? You only gave me two.”

Her arms fold over her chest in defense. The wine does little to settle the incessant, taunting voice she’s heard in her head since she stepped into Heathrow airport some twenty-four hours ago. Emily prepared herself on the plane for this; she knew exactly what coming here would entail, every past memory and nightmare it would conjure, from the moment she hung up the phone after hearing Dave’s happy news. But there was no convincing her otherwise and she’d filled out the RSVP card in her telltale slanted handwriting, putting it in the mail without hesitation. A smile had crossed her face when she imagined what Dave’s reaction might be when he opened the small envelope. On the passable days (there really aren’t good days anymore), she can picture them together, some semblance of peace settled between them. They have one another, one of the only things that gives her any comfort these days.

Emily hears Clyde’s words in her mind over again, louder and louder. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he’d said gently, on more than one occasion, most recently a few nights ago. She’d called him in the early hours of the morning, yanked from the clutches of another nightmare. Of course he’d answered on the first ring, already reaching for his jacket and scarf, and a short time later, Emily heard the twist of a key in her apartment door. She took a few deep breaths when she heard him shut and bolt it behind him, temporarily soothed by the sound of water filling a glass and shoes scratching against the floor. When he pushed the door to her bedroom open, few words were said between them. She’s stopped apologizing for calling; he’s stopped asking if she’s okay. It’s a ritual they have, albeit an unspoken one - she calls, he comes, and they spend a few hours piecing back together what will only fall apart again within a matter of time.

“You really think going back is a good idea?” Clyde flipped through the television channels once she calmed down, changed, and the sweaty sheets were replaced with fresh ones. He had the remote in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other, his feet propped up on the foot of her bed. He settled on a rerun of a sitcom, checked his watch, and rubbed his hand across his face.

“I have to,” Emily said simply, tearing at the ragged skin around her fingernails.

“Why?” He began, yet he’d made the face that told her exactly how he felt about the whole situation.

“I promised Dave years ago I would.” It’s not nearly as convincing as she wanted, but not a complete lie. Unfortunately, Clyde saw right through her reticence.

“That’s not the only reason.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you miss him might be a good start.” Clyde’s casual, unflinching honesty was always one of her favorite things about him. The ability to be rational and objective in his assessment of her time and time again, yet cautious in his approach. It’s a balance that has been learned over the years, mastered in the last few months. “That maybe you made a mistake and you’re too afraid to admit it.”

“I didn’t make a mistake. But of course I miss him, Clyde. I loved him.”

He’d spun the glass in his hands and laughed for the first time since finding her in bed a screaming mess. “I believe you have your tenses incorrect, darling. Aren’t you a linguist?” His knack for picking up on the most subtle things never ceased to amaze her.

“There are some things,” she began slowly, counting her breaths like her therapist had taught her months ago. “That I never got a chance to say. That I couldn’t say once everything … you know.”

“And you’re willing to put yourself through hell again, for the off chance you work up the courage to say the things you never got to?”

“Yes.”

Clyde nodded with a deep sigh, accepting defeat. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before in the last year. They’ve done this before; they will again soon. “Why don’t you try and get some rest? We have to be up in -” he checked his watch again. “Four hours.”

Emily groaned; she’s no stranger to the long days that often follow nights like this. She’d long stopped fighting Clyde on his demand that she attempt to rest. Eventually she’d succumb to the exhaustion that blanketed her mind, but only after she relived it all, just one more time.

...

Emily has a therapist in London - an older woman who oddly enough resembles her mother in looks and mannerisms. But she’s nothing like her, and for reasons she can’t explain, Emily felt an appreciation for her instantly. She doesn’t try to make her forget - she’ll never forget. But what she does is try to help her forgive, mostly herself. She’ll never do that, either. How could she, after it all went wrong? The other part of the process, as she’s learned through many agonizing sessions of recounting it all - the events of that day, the ones leading up to it - was everything that wasn’t said, and the price she paid.

Seeing them (him) hurts as much as the thought it would. Of course, their last conversation before it all fell apart had been an argument, one that will haunt her for the rest of her days. She’ll never be able to take it back; the damage has already been done. |

“Tell me,” he says calmly, as the music around them ceases. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“Unfinished business,” Emily tells him. “There are things I never -”

She’s interrupted by the band starting up yet again, along with the invitation for couples to join Dave and Krystall on the floor as the first dance comes to an end. Emily pointedly looks away, completely perturbed by the idea of it, yet it gives him an idea. He can’t let her slip away again. Not yet. “Do you dance?” Aaron asks, with a boyish grin that elicits the slightest knowing smile from her. She remembers.

“Not much, these days. There isn’t much of an occasion now, you know.”

“But you did,” Aaron forces a smile that hurts a little more than it should. “At least you would dance with me.”

Read the rest on ao3

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #Aaron x emily #hotchniss fic #angst and pain #TW for major character death #bring your tissues

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Twenty-Three) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Dom/sub relationship. Sir kink. Name calling. Brat taming. Bondage (tied back with a neck tie). Fingering. Choking. (Slight breath play?). Talk of kidnapping and murder-- everything Criminal Minds.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 16297

Timeline: Season 3 Episode 19. Two months after part twenty-two.

Hotch was standing at the window in his office, his hands buried in his pockets. His face was flat with a natural frown, his eyes scanning the bullpen, not looking for anything specific. When I noticed that his gaze was lingering on me from time to time a little too long, I leaned back in my chair, bit the back of my pen, and stared back with a smirk. I thought that the challenge would earn me a smile or at least a beckoning finger to lure me to his office, but he didn’t budge. He continued to watch the BAU move and work around him while he was lost in thought.

Something was wrong. The fact that he didn’t even pretend to not see me by going to sit down at his desk to distract himself told me that he really wasn’t paying attention and that his mind was elsewhere. It could have been related to whatever just happened on the phone call he was on only a few minutes ago. Or maybe it had to do with the way I kind of blue balled him that morning. He had woken up a little handsy, and I tried to play along before we realized that we were running late, and I made the call to wait until after work. Whatever was going on, it had him in a twist.

Finally, after a few minutes of me watching him, he finally gave in and exited his office. He walked down into the bullpen, waiting a moment to make his presence known while he just listened to the shenanigans the team had going on. As usual, Morgan was giving Reid a rough time, which was earning a laugh from the entire office. Garcia had brought in a photo she found of Emily in high school, which then turned into finding old pictures of Reid. Of course, Reid was a huge dork, and it was the perfect ammunition for Morgan to poke fun at him.

When Hotch cleared his throat, though, everyone stopped and turned. Just as I had noticed something was wrong, so too did the rest of the team. So when Morgan asked what was wrong, Hotch shuffled on the balls of his feet awkwardly and answered, “Brian Matloff woke up.”

Reid and Morgan exchanged a glance.

“What are you talking about, Hotch?” Morgan asked.

“I’m about to go to the hospital, but I got the call a few minutes ago.”

“It’s been four years.”

“I know.”

“Anyone care to explain to the class?” Emily spoke up, injecting herself into the conversation because the rest of us were in dire need of context.

“Brian Matloff, the Blue Ridge Strangler,” Reid clarified for us. “Hotch, Morgan, and I worked his case about four years back.”

“We nearly had him, too, but the son of a bitch leapt off a building,” Morgan hissed through his teeth.

It was clearly still a sore topic for Hotch and Morgan, though Reid seemed mostly unbothered. But that was what had Hotch all upset and broody in his office. Morgan didn’t like letting criminals get away, and if they died, he felt like that was worse than letting them go. As for Hotch, it sounded like the case was something that he had a lot of problems with after the fact. Maybe he was scrutinized for how the case ended, or maybe he was also upset that Matloff got out of it without serving his time. Either way, neither of them seemed to be over it, even though it had been four years.

“He killed three victims in the Blue Ridge Parkway,” Hotch gave more explanation since Morgan was letting his anger cloud his thoughts and conversational skills.

“Well, allegedly,” Reid said. “He was never convicted because after he jumped off that building, he went into a coma.”

“Yeah, well, he’s awake now,” Hotch scoffed, crossing his arms. “And he’s finally going to be tried. They want the three of us to testify. I’m headed down to the hospital now to talk with the prosecutor, Cece Hillenbrand, and we’ll discuss where we’ll go from here.”

“You want backup?” Morgan asked.

Hotch shook his head. “I’ll let you guys know everything once I’m done.” He buried his hands in his pockets as he returned to his office to grab his things then head out.

We all looked at each other blankly. The information Hotch just dropped on us hadn’t yet settled, and confusion was still hanging in the air. I could tell that Morgan was pissed, and Reid was simple mind-boggled. Emily and I still didn’t have all the pieces, which left our confusion in a separate category from the rest of them. We weren’t around when this Blue Ridge Strangler case was ongoing, and I hadn’t even heard of it before. Hotch probably forgot about it altogether until he got that call. It didn’t surprise me that it hadn’t come up before, but the shock of it still hit me with the same force that it clearly hit Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.

When Hotch left his office with his briefcase, we all watched him. Morgan looked anxious, like he wanted to go with Hotch, that the offer he made for backup was less of an offer and more of a “let’s go” statement that Hotch turned down. Then, when he was gone, I expected the office to go back to work, but no one moved. We didn’t even turn back to our paperwork. It was quiet. Telephones rang, keyboards clacked, Anderson was running around and asking for lunch orders. Yet no one moved or said anything. It was such an odd thing to think about. Usually, when we took down Unsubs, one of two things would happen: we would take them in and they’d serve their time, or for one reason or another, they’d die. We never, ever had an instance before like this where an Unsub would wake up years afterwards. What were we supposed to do? How were we supposed to respond?

“Four years…” Morgan mumbled, throwing his pen on his desk. “Four years that asshole is out of it, and then he just… wakes up.”

“It’s a miracle he even woke up,” Reid said, still dumbfounded. I had never seen him so baffled in my life. Reid always had something to say, but not this time. Finally.

Truth be told, though, it didn’t feel like a miracle. Matloff waking up when things were finally getting better after Garcia got shot seemed like a big “fuck you” from the universe. At some point we deserved a break, right? I mean, Hotch, of all people, deserved a break. He had been working tirelessly for years, and it seemed like since our brief suspensions, he was working even harder. I just wanted him to stop. I wanted him to slow down, to look at life, to look at our family, and appreciate what we had. Matloff waking up was just going to prolong that attempt… It was exhausting.

About an hour later, we were all still sitting around silently. Reid managed to get back to his work, but he was slow, which was odd. Emily was trying to fit all the pieces together of what was happening and what was about to happen, meanwhile Morgan and I were still just… there. When my phone started ringing, the whole office jumped. Even Anderson jumped in his own skin. Hotch was calling me already. Hopefully, it was good news that I could share with the office to ease everyone’s conscience.

“Greenaway,” I answered.

“We’ve got a problem,” Hotch said in a breathless panic. “Matloff had amnesia.” My eyes widened and I spun around in my chair to look at Morgan. He glanced up at me, catching my worry, and in return grew confused. “Dave’s coming down to help us rebuild the case, but our key witness died of an overdose two years ago, and the prosecution still wants me to testify, but not Morgan or Reid, and I—”

“Hotch,” I caught his attention after he started rambling. “It’s going to be okay. What do you need?”

“Approach it like it’s any case? Go through everything. Victimology, M.O., find the evidence, build the profile, do everything you can to help us put this guy away.”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “I’ll get the team on it right away.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

I looked around the bullpen to see that everyone was watching me, waiting eagerly for answers. I couldn’t say it back while they were all watching. As much as I wanted to, Hotch and I had our rules for a reason, and even something as simple as “I love you” just wasn’t appropriate in front of the team. At least not yet. Considering how comfortable the two of us were getting around each other at the office, it almost felt like saying “I love you” while around our co-workers wasn’t a big deal. But that was a conversation for another time, I supposed. So all I said back to Hotch was, “I’ll see you when you get back.” And then, without saying anything else, I had to hang up on him. One of these days I was going to say it back to him while around our friends, and I wasn’t going to be afraid to do it. Hopefully that time was soon.

“What was that about?” Morgan asked.

“We need to start building a case against Matloff,” I answered, standing from my seat. Everyone got up from their desks and followed me to the roundtable. “Matloff supposedly has amnesia. He doesn’t remember the murders.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Morgan scoffed.

I shook my head. “JJ, do you think that you and Garcia can get the case files for us?”

“Sure,” she accepted, leaving through the back door to head to Garcia’s office.

“Hotch wants us to build the case up from the ground,” I told the remaining members of the team in the room. Morgan, Reid, and Emily all sighed. It was going to be a very long day. “Hotch and Rossi should be calling back with more information once they have it.”

JJ and Garcia returned with copies of the Matloff case files for each of us. They handed them out then took a seat with us at the table. We had to start with victimology, like always. Three women were found murdered and buried in Blue Ridge Parkway. They were all found buried next to each other in shallow, two-foot deep graves. The soil over the bodies was fairly new when they were found, which referenced that the Unsub was going back again and again to revisit the bodies. The victims themselves were slim, beautiful, brunette, brown eyed women. They had all been out for jogs on the pathway when they went missing. Victimology wise, he went for women who attracted him sexually, and he always went for them when they were alone and least expecting it. He took them, strangled them, and buried them deep in the forest where he thought no one would find them.

Based on such information, we could determine the simple: he visited the part enough to know it like the back of his hand. A park ranger would have that knowledge. He liked to revisit the scenes, which made it sexually motivated. He had a ruse and a plan in order to take his victims, which made him intelligent and organized. All of which pointed directly to Brian Matloff.

The best part was, with the third victim, Darci Corbet, there was a witness who could put Brian Matloff at the scene. While that sounded like that would suddenly make this an open and shut case, the downside was that Marvin Leopold, the witness on the trail that morning, died two years ago of an overdose. So the fact of the matter was this: there was no physical evidence connecting Matloff to the crimes, no one to put him at the scenes, and our Unsub had amnesia. Plain and simple, we were fucked.

Hotch wanted us to rebuild the profile, but… no matter how we looked at it, it pointed to Matloff. That was the unfortunate part of looking at the case after they had caught the guy. We were biased, and our profile was always going to be tweaked to point fingers at Matloff. Emily, JJ, and I were supposed to be the most impartial at that table, yet the three of us kept coming up with the same profile they built four years ago. Great. That wasn’t exactly helpful. How were we supposed to find another way to tie this to Matloff when our tunnel vision was blinding us from seeing outside the box? I almost wished that Hotch hadn’t told us about Matloff first. Maybe this would have been easier.

“What about this?” Emily asked, pointing to something in her file before turning it around for all of us to see. She had spotted something about Matloff’s fascination of Native American Culture, and she was curious how that helped the profile back then.

“Matloff was obsessed with the Native American belief that burying a body face down traps the soul of the person and prevents them from haunting the killer,” Reid explained. “Tying together his interest with the mythology, we were able to hone in on his M.O.”

“What caught his eye about that?” JJ asked. “I mean, he grew up Catholic in the city. How would he have grown into the obsession?”

Morgan shrugged. “We didn’t get that far.”

“What about the jewelry he took as souvenirs? Does that have anything to do with the mythology?” I asked.

“Not that I know of,” Reid said, shaking his head. “We don’t even know what he did with them. We were hoping that he kept them at his apartment so that we could have physical evidence tying him to the crime, but we never found anything.”

My phone buzzed with a text suddenly. I turned it over on the table to light up the screen and get a look. Hotch had texted to say: “Judge wants to meet this afternoon with how to proceed.” I looked up at the team as they were still chatting about what to do, and an idea hit me. I picked my phone up and texted Hotch back. “Psych eval.” It took him a few minutes to respond, which was why I was shocked when all it read was: “Thanks. Love you.” That meant that they were either going to do it, or Hotch was completely ignoring me. I wasn’t sure which. Then, my phone buzzed again. “Can you and JJ go to the hospital to learn more about Matloff’s amnesia and his stay there over the past four years?” I rolled my eyes. I texted back a reluctant: “Sure. Love you.”, then buried my phone in my pocket.

I looked at JJ and nodded towards the door. We gathered our things after she caught my hint. On our way out to the car, I told JJ what we were doing. The plan was to head to Matloff’s hospital, talk to the doctors, find out what we could about him over the past four years. It wasn’t much to go on, but we were going to do what we could.

At the hospital, JJ and I navigated our way to the wing where Matloff had been kept for the past four years. People were hurrying around us, monitors were beeping, doctors were shouting for help, and the elevator was dinging with every floor it passed, but JJ and I stayed to ourselves. We walked quietly and calmly, making our way there without bothering anyone. We knew what we were there for, we knew how to get the information, and we knew where to get it. There was no point running around like headless chicken like every other time I had been to the hospital over the past year.

When we reached the front desk of the wing that we needed to visit, JJ asked for the doctor that was overseeing Matloff’s case. We waited a few minutes while the nurse went off to find him, tell him what was going on, and bring him back over to us in the waiting area. After we spotted him coming down the hallway, storming his way over to us, JJ and I fixed our postures for the questioning that would ensue.

“What can I do for you agents?” the doctor asked hurriedly. He obviously had other places to be, but when the FBI comes asking for you, that usually trumps everything else.

“We just have a few questions for you about Brian Matloff,” JJ answered.

“What can you tell us about his amnesia?” I asked

The doctor chuckled. “The simple way or the complicated way?”

“Try us,” I squinted at him lightly.

“The patient has Focal Retrograde Amnesia, meaning he doesn’t remember anything from before he woke up this morning. His name, his birthday, his address, that’s all wiped from his memory. His intelligence remains the same, and his ability to form new memories is still intact, but I’m afraid he won’t be much use to you in court.”

“What about his stay here?” JJ asked. “Was there any sign that he’d wake up different, or was he a unique patient in any way?”

The doctor shook his head. “After about two weeks, you always tend to forget about the coma patients unless it’s a check up that you’re assigned to.”

“What about visitors?” I inquired, crossing my arms. I mean, it wasn’t prison. Anyone could come in and visit Matloff. It seemed like at the time of the investigation, he was a pretty “popular” murderer, and there was a fad around obsessing over psychopaths. Someone could have come to visit him. Right?

“Yeah,” the doctor nodded, “he had a visitor every day.”

“Every day?” I scoffed.

“Do you have a visitor log?” JJ asked.

“I’ll grab it for you guys.” He walked over to the desk to look for the log.

I turned to JJ. “Every day for four years?” I inquired. “You only do that if you’re in love or family.”

“So we’re looking for an admirer or someone he’s related to? But I thought his parents disowned him and he doesn’t have any siblings.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see that the doctor was returning with the visitor’s log. “Then we’re either dealing with a crazy fan or…”

“Her name’s Nina Moore,” he told us while handing it over to JJ.

“What does she look like?” I asked.

The doctor shrugged lightly. “Um… I mean… She had dark hair, she was short…”

“Was she white?”

“No. She looked Hispanic or Mediterranean.”

A thought struck me. “Native American?”

The doctor furrowed his brows before nodding vaguely. “Sure.”

JJ gave me a short, acknowledging nod before I stepped to the side to call Hotch. We never knew why Matloff liked Native American culture and mythology so much, but if he was in any way related to this Nina Moore, and if she really was of Native American descent, it made sense. If it could help the case, which it probably could, then we needed to find Nina Moore as soon as possible. Hotch needed to know first.

“Hotch,” I said into the phone when he picked up. “JJ and I found something at the hospital.” There was silence on the other end, but I could tell that he was listening. “There was a woman who visited Matloff every day. Her name’s Nina Moore, and the doctor said that she’s possibly Native American.”

“That’s great. Have JJ call Garcia to find out if you can find her. Cece and I just got to the office with Matloff. We’re about to start his psych eval, if you want to come in.”

I paused. “The judge approved the eval?”

Hotch hummed a, “Yes.”

“You… you motioned for it after I mentioned it?”

“Of course I did.”

I let my eyes fall shut as relief washed over me. He listened. He trusted me. I was so worried that I had stepped on his toes by offering up the idea of the psych eval. After how he responded to that text, I thought that he wasn’t going to listen to me, but he did. I had nothing to worry about. I knew Hotch trusted me, I should’ve known that he would listen. I almost felt stupid.

“I’ll be there as soon as JJ drops me off,” I told him.

“Okay,” he sighed. I could tell how tired he was already. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It finally felt good to say it back after I was barred from doing it earlier in front of everyone in the bullpen.

When the line went dead, I put my phone away and told JJ that we needed to go. In the car, JJ called Garcia, as planned, to ask her to look for a Nina Moore. The idea was that Garcia would get us some information before we’d get back to the office, which meant that JJ could immediately leave to go seek out a new lead connecting to Nina. Thankfully, Garcia, the goddess she is, got us the information before we even pulled into the parking lot. She called back to let us know that Nina’s last name used to be Genesee. Through her wonderful talent of hacking, she was able to find out that Nina had a baby thirty-seven years ago, around the time Matloff was born, and gave her son up for adoption. When I asked if she had any Native American roots, Garcia chuckled before telling me, “Oh, yeah. She’s obsessed with it.” That was everything we needed.

So when we got to the office, JJ switched to take the driver’s seat, and I headed inside. On my way to the interrogation room down the hall to the left, I could see that Morgan, Reid, Rossi, and Emily were all in the boardroom, sitting around the roundtable, working on putting more of the case and profile together. They were all so nose deep in work that they hadn’t noticed my arrival at Quantico, even after I backpedaled to put my purse under my desk, then headed back out into the hallway.

In the mirror room connected to the interrogation room, I ran into Hotch and a woman with him. Hotch smiled lightly at me when he saw that it was me. The woman in the room didn’t acknowledge me yet, though.

“Y/N, this is Cece Hillenbrand,” Hotch said, pointing to the blonde woman next to him. “Cece, this is Agent Greenaway.” We shook hands and greeted each other with a smile.

“How’s it going in there?” I asked.

“Well, we already performed the eval once, yet nothing happened.”

“He passed?”

Hotch nodded. “I don’t know how.”

“Maybe he really doesn’t remember.”

“It’s possible. I want to run the test again, though.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “However, I want to do something different this time. I don’t like sending you in there with Unsubs who see you as their type, but…” Hotch hesitated while biting the nail on his thumb. “I think that if you sit in there with Matloff while they do the test again, it might…” He sighed and crossed his arms again. “It might arouse him enough that we might be able to get something out of him. But I won’t send you in there unless you—”

“I’ll do it, Hotch.” I stepped to the right and grabbed the handle of the door. “I’ll be fine.” I turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped into the room. As I entered, Matloff craned his neck to look at me. “Hello, Mr. Matloff, I’m Agent Greenaway. I’m going to sit in with you while we run the test again. Is that alright?”

Matloff silently nodded.

I took the seat across from him, just beside the monitor that was set up to show him the crime scene images of his victims. I nodded to the mirror window, a signal for them to start the test again. Just as I heard the slideshow buzz awake, I returned my stare to Matloff. He was watching the monitor intently, but I took note of how his eyes didn’t dilate, and his body didn’t move. Most Unsubs, even if they were trying to hide sexual attraction to their crimes, had an involuntary reaction to shift about uncomfortably. Usually, that had to do with trying to ignore any arousal so that their attraction wasn’t obvious. But not Matloff. He didn’t move a muscle. In fact, his face contorted slightly to show disgust and disapproval towards what he did to his victims. Most obvious, however, was that he didn’t look at me once.

When it was over, Matloff sighed, blinking his eyes dramatically as he looked away from the screen like he was trying to forget what he saw. I squinted at him slightly, trying to put together a profile in my mind. Either he was very good at hiding that he knew about the murders or he genuinely had no idea. My guess was the latter, unfortunately. And when the doctor came in, Matloff didn’t look at her, either, though she was also his type. Something just wasn’t fitting. The profile that the team built up four years ago, and the one we were recreating now wasn’t adding up. Something about Matloff was off.

I stood from my seat with the intent of leaving the room while the doctor detached him from all the different computers he was hooked up to. As I made my way around the table, reaching for the door, Matloff grabbed my arm. I seized up, looking down at him before thinking about trying to pull away. He glanced up at me, both of us ignoring how Hotch burst the door open to get between us. Matloff didn’t let go of me as Hotch tried to pry us apart, though.

“Do I know you?” he asked me. I furrowed my brows. “I mean, did we meet before, when I was still… you know…”

I snatched my arm away from him. “No. We’ve never met.”

Hotch kept his eyes glued to Matloff as I pushed past him in a hurry to leave the room. I didn’t care that he touched me or asked if we had met before, but what irked me was how he didn’t look at me once until I was leaving… and he didn’t appear enthralled at all. He seemed impartial. Interesting, considering his past. Perhaps he really didn’t remember what he did or who he was.

“So?” Hotch asked, closing the door behind us.

I shook my head. “Nothing. He didn’t flinch once. He didn’t even react positively. He seemed disgusted, Hotch. He didn’t look at me, he didn’t move, he didn’t smirk, his eyes didn’t even search the photos. He probably passed the test again.”

Hotch sighed in defeat. “Shit.”

“What does that mean?” Cece asked.

“It means that he really doesn’t remember—” Hotch began.

“Or you got the wrong guy,” I finished.

Cece’s arms fell to her sides for a moment as she came to terms with what she said. Either way, her case was going to fall apart in court very fast. The psych eval wasn’t admissible in court, which was the good news. We didn’t have to use it, but the defense would likely use the results of the eval to push their agenda that Matloff wasn’t involved in the first place.

“It’s been a long day,” Hotch finally spoke up after looking at the time. It was already past four. “We should call it so that we’re well rested for court tomorrow.”

Cece chuckled. She knew that she wasn’t getting sleep, and I knew that Hotch, Morgan, and Reid weren’t going to sleep, either. Even if he sent everyone home, it wouldn’t matter. This was going to eat at them until Matloff was behind bars for good. To my surprise, though, Cece “agreed” to Hotch’s idea. She grabbed her purse from the table behind her, wished us a goodnight, then left. Hotch and I turned back to face the interrogation room where they were getting ready to move Matloff out and take him back to jail.

“You okay?” I asked him, lifting my hand to run my fingers through his hair on the side of his head.

“I will be. At home.”

I nodded agreeingly before reaching back down to take his hand. “Let’s go home, then.”

When we left the mirror room, we stopped holding hands. We made our way back into the BAU so that Hotch could dismiss everyone officially, though they would all probably stay, anyhow. I grabbed my purse from under my desk, and Hotch grabbed his briefcase from his office up the ramp. Everyone wished us a good night as we hurried out.

Nothing was said between us on the way home. The radio was running and Hotch had his hand on my thigh, but we didn’t say anything. I could sense that he just needed quiet for a bit so that he could think. I was willing to do that. Honestly, I needed to think, too. Everything we learned all day was starting to come together in my head. Between finding out that Matloff had amnesia, that someone had gone to visit him every day, then he passed the psych eval, it seemed like the world just kept smacking Hotch in the face.

Hotch pulled into the driveway quietly. As he turned off the ignition, he sighed and slumped back against his seat. I unbuckled myself and turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and defeated, and, honestly, I couldn’t blame him. The day started off well. We got to work, we were happy, things were good. And then he got that call. Brian Matloff woke up and our day went down the drain. We were so busy running around, trying to rebuild a four year old case, and it had entirely worn him out. I didn’t envy him. Tomorrow, it was possible that he would have to testify, or at least start preparing to do so. Not only was our day long, but the next few were going to be hell, too. And all of it rested on Hotch’s shoulders.

“I’ll call in a pizza,” I offered quietly, trying not to disturb the peace he found in the car. He nodded. “Cinnamon knots, too?” He smiled and nodded. “Okay. Come on, Sleeping Beauty.”

We got out of the car slowly and lazily. While we made our way inside the house, I dug out my phone to place the pizza order. Hotch unlocked the door and turned off the alarm. We both fell onto the couch as I dialed the pizza place and waited for them to pick up. Before I could do anything, Hotch trapped me in his arms and pulled me towards him so that I was laying on my side, my back pressed against his chest as we cuddled. I kissed his forearms that were holding my chest to make sure I couldn’t escape. Then the line picked up and I started ordering. Hotch nuzzled his nose into the back of my neck, his breath hot against my skin, making me shiver and smile. I was trying to focus on getting the order right, but all I could think about was how much I loved him and how he never failed to make me swoon with even the smallest gestures like this. He was too precious, too pure to let the world ruin him like it was. This Matloff nonsense was ridiculous. He didn’t deserve it. I was just glad that I could be there to comfort him, and that I had the strength and energy to order a damn pizza when he clearly didn’t.

When I hung up after getting the order in, I put my phone on the coffee table in front of me, then turned over to face Hotch. His eyes were shut peacefully, and he was breathing calmly. He looked so untroubled for once. It didn’t look like the world had just dragged him through the mud all day. And when I brushed a hand through his long hair, he smiled. I kissed his nose gently then closed my eyes as we both hugged each other close. I loved him. So fucking much. The little moments like this always reminded me why all the shit in our lives was still worth it, that there was always a reason to keep fighting. If we didn’t have the shit moments and days, then we wouldn’t have these little moments like this, and what was the point then?

I kissed his cheek before my whole body went limp. I loved him. More than anything. The world didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve him.

“You okay?” he asked me softly. Both of our eyes were still shut, but I knew that he could still somehow see that my mind was racing. “I’m sorry I let things get out of hand at Matloff’s eval today.”

I shook my head slightly. “I haven’t even thought about it.”

“Then, what?”

“Sh…” I begged, squeezing him slightly. I just wanted to enjoy the silence a little longer. We could talk while eating. “I love you.”

Hotch kissed me tenderly. It was one of those light kisses that reminded me that he was there and that he loved me, but it wasn’t passionate or hard enough to rile us up. We just wanted to be lazy for a bit. That didn’t make us bad people. I think we had a tendency to forget that not everything was about work and sex. I mean, we obviously loved both. But taking a moment to just relax and be us amidst all the craziness in the world didn’t make us horrible people. In fact, it made us human.

Then the damn doorbell rang. I sighed as I tried to sit up to answer it, but Hotch was being stubborn. He was holding onto me for dear life despite acting like he was asleep. I pecked his cheek a thousand times, earning a wide smile and giggle from him. While he was distracted, I pried his arms off me and hurried over to the door. I grabbed my wallet from my purse next to the door, then paid for the pizza. By the time I turned back towards the living room with the food in hand and the door closed behind me, Hotch was actually sitting up on the couch.

When I tried to just set the box on the table so that I could go get plates and napkins, Hotch wrapped his arms around my waist again, and he pulled me onto his lap. To get back at me for my ticking kisses earlier, Hotch started attacking my neck with his lips. I bit back a laugh. I was trying to protest by standing up, but Hotch held me steady on him, so I finally gave up and turned my face to kiss him. He was caught off guard when I did it. I took the chance to carefully push him back against the couch while we kissed passionately and held each other. I swear, it was worth the sore and chapped lips. Always.

Hotch finally, after we were both breathless, let me pull away. I shifted around on his lap innocently, avoiding any contact that could be viewed as otherwise. I leaned forward and moved the small box of cinnamon knots so that we could get to the pizza underneath. Hotch still wasn’t letting me go to get plates or napkins. Asshole. So that meant things were going to get gross very fast unless he finally gave in. When I offered Hotch a slice, I think that was when he suddenly realized his mistake, because he immediately let me go, and even gently slapped the outside of my thigh to push me towards the kitchen. I glared at him over my shoulder. He smirked and winged his arms over the couch. He was absolutely impossible sometimes. Not jumping his bones every chance I could get felt like a challenge all the time, and he fucking new it.

Finally, when we had plates and napkins, and Hotch pulled me back onto his lap, we started eating. I was sitting on his thighs, my right shoulder facing him and my left shoulder facing the pizza on the table. As we ate, I was watching him out the corner of my eye. He still looked exhausted, but the food was giving him enough energy to keep sitting upright and not suddenly topple over.

“What do you remember about the case?” I asked him. That was what had been on my mind earlier, but I didn’t want to talk about it while we were relaxing. I also knew that I’d drop the topic the second we were done eating. “I mean, besides the facts. How did you feel? What stuck out to you the most? Would it really be so bad if Matloff doesn’t remember and he’s released? Just… what are you thinking?”

Hotch sighed quietly as he chewed on the bite he just took. “You really want to do this right now?”

I nodded. He was going to have to testify eventually, and it was probably better if he sorted all of his thoughts and feelings out beforehand. On the stand, he would have to be cool and collected. He couldn’t show any emotion because our jobs required us to push emotion aside for the sake of getting the truth. He needed to maintain that facade in court. However, if he didn’t discuss it all beforehand, I knew him well enough to know that he could get wound up if there was something on his mind. He could talk to me. Always. No matter what he was feeling or thinking about this, he could tell me.

“It was the first case I ever worked on with Reid. He was new, and he was still trying to prove himself—”

“Reid? Proving himself? Doesn’t sound like him,” I said sarcastically with a smirk.

Hotch pinched my thigh lightly to get me to be quiet. “Morgan and I weren’t close yet, but we respected each other. Our team just wasn’t what it is now. We weren’t…” He hesitated. I wanted him to say it. He could admit it. It wouldn’t kill him to say that we were a family. “We were just different,” he said, opting out of the truth. I tried to hide my slight disappointment. “I remember that the three of us felt bad for the victims, and we were desperate to find answers for them. I even… Honestly, I even felt bad for Matloff when he fell off that building, but that doesn’t excuse what he did. He did kill those girls, I know it, and there are definitely more bodies out there that we couldn’t find. Matloff’s playing a game, I can tell. I think that he’s smart, calculating, and vain. I feel like we shouldn’t let him get away with this, no matter what the eval said.”

“Do you think he’ll kill again if he’s found innocent?”

Hotch nodded and took another bite of his pizza.

As we pulled up to the courthouse, Hotch and I took notice of the media crowd that had gathered on the steps outside. Every major news channel had a van there with a reporter and a camera following everyone who was just trying to get inside. Poor Cece, Hotch’s lawyer friend, was caught in the middle of it while still trying to push through. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to that same adventure just to get into the courthouse for a few hours’ worth of the trial. It was only the first day of Matloff’s trial, which meant that it would be about an hour or so of excusing juror members, then both the prosecution and defense teams would get up in front of the jury to make their opening statements. If we happened to get to witnesses, it would be an absolute miracle. Considering the media frenzy surrounding this case, it was going to take forever just to find suitable juror members, and then to get through the opening statements? What a mess.

Hotch started getting out of the car, but I stopped him by grabbing his hand. I was still staring at all of the reporters on the opposite side of the parking lot, which must have tipped off Hotch about why I stopped him, because he settled back in his seat and kissed my knuckles. My breath sputtered as I tried to calm down against his touch, but I was still nervous about it. The media wasn’t exactly my thing. In our line of work, I liked staying back to do the behind the scenes work. That one time in St. Louis, during the Mill Creek Killer case, that was different, because Gideon and JJ practically forced me to be up there during the media meeting just to lure in the Hollow Man. But this… They knew who Hotch was, and therefore they probably knew who I was. It didn’t take a genius like Reid to figure out that mine and Hotch’s careers were nearly destroyed because of our relationship. Reporters were vultures, and I was sure that they already knew that they were dating, and that was somehow going to be made relevant on the nine o’clock news. Assholes.

He kissed my knuckles again. “Just hold onto me and stay close, okay?” I nodded. “They’re going to try to ask you questions, and they’re going to try to get under your skin in order to get a reaction. Don’t give them the satisfaction, alright?” I nodded again. “Come on,” he invited lightly, tugging at my hand.

We separated for a moment so that we could get out of the car. I raced around to the front where he was waiting for me, holding out his hand, and smiling at me. I took his hand and hugged my side close to his. Before we started towards the stairs, Hotch locked the car. When we were all sorted, Hotch started leading me forwards, though I was reluctant. It was so weird that I wasn’t afraid of sitting in the room with psychopaths like Matloff, yet I couldn’t face a crowd of reporters. That said something about me, didn’t it?

The closer we got, the more reporters started to take notice of our approach. It started with just one, but once they told their camera man to turn around, everyone else took their lead. Hotch and I were immediately surrounded before we even made it onto the steps. He got ahead of me slightly, making sure that his hold on my hand was still there and that I was still pressed against his side. He put his arm out, trying to push through all the microphones and cameras so that I wouldn’t have to. I kept my head low, focusing my gaze on my feet and trying not to trip on Hotch as we shuffled up towards the courthouse. Reporters were screaming in my ear still, though. They were all shouting questions, and cameras were flashing in my eyes, and microphones were bumping into the back of my head. At one point, I thought I heard someone mention Jack. I tried to stop to see who said it, but Hotch kept pulling me along.

When we finally got inside, I sighed with relief, and tripped into Hotch’s shoulder. He caught me and asked, “You alright?”

I giggled and nodded. “Yeah. There’s a reason why JJ always deals with the media and I’m not jealous of her.”

Hotch chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“Thank god you’re here,” Cece cheered, approaching us in a hurry. “Are you ready? We’re starting in a few minutes.”

Hotch nodded, and I followed his lead into the courtroom. The audience seats in the back of the room were surprisingly full. Reid was already sitting down towards the front with two empty seats beside him. It almost looked like he saved them for us. I smiled lightly as we headed over to him and Hotch jokingly asked him if those seats were taken after we startled him somewhat. Reid fixed his hair and gestured for us to sit down.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, listening to the room talk in whispers, the jury was called in. Everyone fell silent as we watched them file into their seats. When they were done, we were asked to stand for the judge. Hotch slyly took my hand as we stood up. Afterwards, when the judge was seated, he told us to sit, and the prosecution and defense teams started taking their turns asking the jury questions to see who should be excused. By some miracle, time flew by, and not a single member was dismissed. So the opening statements began. Cece stood to go first.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you’re here today to bring justice to the families of the three beautiful, young women who lost their lives four years ago to a cold blooded, calculating killer. Darci Corbet, Celeste Ferami, April Sotherford. Three women out for a run on the Blue Ridge Parkway trail when they were approached by a park ranger. An employee who abused his authority to lure these women into a secluded area where he could safely perform the act of murder. He strangled them slowly, inflicting maximum suffering and terror, ensuring that he would gain the most pleasure from the kill. He buried them in shallow graves, leaving them turned upside down in the most demeaning position. And then he thought he got away with it. But he didn’t. We caught him. Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is your civil duty to finally bring justice for his three victims. It’s your duty to put this man away once and for all so that he can not hurt anyone else. Thank you for being here, for helping to put an end to this monster’s insanity.”

Cece turned away from the jury to return to her seat. When she sat down, I felt Hotch give my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Counselor, would the defense like to make its opening statement now or wait ‘til the prosecution rests?” the judge asked.

The defense lawyer stood. “We would like to give our opening statement now, Your Honor.”

“You may begin.”

The lawyer stepped around the table to approach the jury. “Was the murder of the three women found dead in Blue Ridge Parkway a result of the act of murder? Perhaps. Ladies and gentlemen, over the next few days or so, you’re going to be told that my client was responsible for these horrendous deaths, but this is nothing but a theory. There is no eyewitness, no fingerprints, no DNA, no physical evidence tying my client to any of these crimes. None. Not even a murder weapon. Not one shred of hard evidence.”

I squeezed Hotch’s hand. This was what we feared most. We tried and tried to get something, to find new evidence, but there was nothing. Of course the defense was going to base their argument around that. It was the obvious out. But Cece was still going to fight like hell, and Hotch wasn’t going to let Matloff get away with it. We still had time to find something. JJ was still looking for Nina Moore, which meant that we could possibly have a new lead soon.

“The only way that they can tie my client to these crimes is through the pseudo-science called profiling. That’s not evidence, ladies and gentlemen. That’s grasping at straws to put an innocent man away in prison. All I ask of you, the jury, is to keep an open mind over the next few days. Recognize that there are people rushing to close this case, and they will pin it on my innocent client if they must. That is all.”

“Thank you, Counselor,” the judge said. “Prosecution, you may call your first witness.”

“The prosecution would like to call Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner to the stand,” Cece said to the court.

I looked over at Hotch. I didn’t think we’d get to witnesses yet— and I especially didn’t anticipate that Hotch was already going to testify. I thought we had a little more time. He told me that he was prepared for it, but I was still caught off guard by it. It was as though he expected it, however, because Hotch untangled our fingers, and he stood to walk up to the stand.

After being sworn in, Hotch took a seat, adjusted his suit, cleared his throat, and looked up at Cece to signal that she could begin questioning him. Cece stepped around the table she had been sitting at and neared the center of the court.

“Agent Hotchner, could you please state your full name and title for the court?” Cece began her questioning, going easy so that Hotch could get comfortable up there first.

“Aaron Hotchner. I’m a Supervisory Special Agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI in Quantico.”

“And what does the Behavioral Analysis Unit do, Agent?”

“We took at the psychological aspect of suspects in order to catch them. We look at behavior, victimology, the suspect’s Modus Operandi, and linkage analysis.”

“What is linkage analysis?”

“It’s the process in which my team and I attempt to link all of the behaviors between crime scenes in order to prove that one person is responsible, and from there we can determine who is responsible.”

“So, through the process of linkage analysis, you and your team concluded that all three of these murders had been committed by one man.”

Hotch nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“And that man was the defendant, Brian Matloff?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us how you came to that conclusion, Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch looked over at me for a brief moment before answering Cece’s question. “Four years ago, along with Agents Reid and Morgan, we began to analyze the behavior of the unknown subject, which we refer to as the Unsub. We took into account the behaviors that led up to the murders, during the murders, and following at the murders. Through that analysis, we were able to create a profile that allowed us to generate a suspect pool, which we could eventually use to narrow down to one Unsub. By assessing what we knew about the victims, the crime scenes, and the behaviors, we were able to conclude that the Unsub was in a position of power, like being a park ranger at Blue Ridge Parkway. Because of how the bodies were buried, we could tell that he was not only a ranger, but he was going back to the scene to relive the experience to gain gratification of either the sexual or sadistic nature. Once we had concluded that he was a park ranger, all of the evidence began to make sense, which then led us straight to Brian Matloff.”

“Well, how did you come to the direct conclusion that it was the defendant? I imagine that there are thousands of people who work for the park service. How were you able to narrow your suspect pool, as you put it?”

“Our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, helped us narrow down the search. We knew that his knowledge of the forest was extensive, which meant that he wasn’t recently employed. We also knew that he knew the area and path around the waterfall well enough to know where to hide the bodies so that they wouldn’t be found, which meant that he was mostly stationed in that area. The last thing we checked for was which of the park rangers was injecting themselves into our investigation. Most of the rangers wanted the whole thing to go away, so they went on as normal, but Brian Matloff was constantly hovering and prying for answers that we couldn’t give him.”

“Couldn’t he have just been a concerned worker and citizen?”

“At first, we were also skeptical, but once we delivered our profile to his co-workers, they reassured us that he fit the same behaviors that we were looking for.”

“So, after deciding on the defendant as a lead suspect, what did you and your team do?”

“We decided to go speak with him at his mother’s home, but she told us that he had left earlier with ‘a lady friend’. We tracked him down to a secret apartment he had. We took a SWAT team with us because we were under the impression that he had a hostage or another victim. When we tried to get him to open the door, that was when we realized that he had started climbing through the fire escape. When Agent Morgan pursued him, that was when Matloff jumped.”

“And the woman that was thought to be with him?”

“We never found her… But we believe that he killed her and disposed of her remains somewhere.”

Cece nodded at Hotch before looking to the judge, “No further questions, Your Honor.” Cece walked back to her seat at the prosecution’s table.

“Would the defense like to cross examine the witness?” the judge asked.

The defense attorney stood. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“You may begin.”

“Agent Hotchner, in your report of the night that my client attempted to run away from the police, you called that ‘a strong indicator of his guilt’. Were you aware that he had an outstanding warrant at the time of his arrest?”

“Yes,” Hotch answered.

“So, isn’t it possible that Mr. Matloff fled, not because he was guilty of murder, but because he was guilty of the outstanding warrant?”

“There were eight law enforcement officers in bullet proof vests standing outside his door. I doubt that any reasonable person would—”

“A simple yes or no answer will suffice.”

Hotch bit his bottom lip briefly. He was getting a little worked up, but he was holding it back. “Yes, it’s possible.”

“Right. And you say that it was your team’s profile that led you to my client’s door in the middle of the night—”

“A behavioral analysis profile was a factor in our investigation, yes, but there were more factors involved.”

“Such as?”

Hotch fell short. We still didn’t have any physical evidence, and there weren’t any witnesses tying Matloff to the scene. While there was always more that went into a case than just a dumbed down profile that people would see in a report, it was hard to explain to people outside of the job. Most people didn’t understand what it took to work for the BAU. Being smart and fit was part of it, of course, but being able to put together clues that weren’t really there was sometimes part of it, too. It sounded like what happened with Matloff was a case of putting things together that weren’t tangible, while not thinking the future, like this, through ahead of time. It explained why Hotch was more careful nowadays.

The defense lawyer moved on, realizing that he wasn’t going to get an answer out of Hotch, which only helped prove his case. “These behavioral analysis profiles are what your unit in the FBI does, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You use this formula for every case you work on?”

“Yes.”

“You used this same formula for cases like the Olympic Park Bombings in Atlanta?”

“Yes.”

“And was that suspect that you identified, Richard Jewell, ever convicted of those bombings?”

“Objection,” Cece called from her seat. “Relevance?”

“Goes to the credibility of the witness and his field.”

“I’ll allow it,” the judge nodded.

Hotch’s lip pursed. That hit a nerve, I could tell. “No, he was not convicted.”

“Why was that?” the lawyer asked.

“Because the real suspect, Eric Rudolph, attempted another bombing while Jewell was in custody.”

“So you profiled the wrong man.”

“No. Our profile was dead on; we just had the wrong man.”

The lawyer scoffed. “And how about the Baton Rouge Killer? Your unit said that he was white and living in the city. He was black and from the suburbs. You said that the B.T.K Killer, Dennis Rader, was divorced and impotent. He was married with children. So, Agent Hotchner, was it possible that you profiled the wrong man this time, too?”

Hotch didn’t waver. He answered with his stone-cold glare and said, “No.”

“The truth is,” the lawyer turned to the jury, “behavioral analysis is just intellectual guesswork. You probably couldn’t tell me the color of my socks with any greater accuracy than a carnival psychic.”

I swear, if I weren’t in a court, I would have leapt out at that man and strangled him then and there myself. I knew that it was his job to practically tear down Hotch’s reputation in order to prove his case, but… my blood was boiling. He didn’t have what it took to be a part of the BAU. Hell, he didn’t have what it took to even be a part of the FBI. For him to look Hotch in the eye while saying all of that made me angry. Hotch was great at his job. He was the best of the best. He had been working tirelessly for decades to get where he was in his career. It wasn’t fucking guesswork. We trained and worked to learn how to profile. In a way, it was an art. Not just anyone could wander in one day and say: “I want to be a profiler.” It took more than that. It took training, education, and time. That was why it took me so damn long to get into the BAU in the first place.

The lawyer turned away from Hotch so that he could smirk to himself at his little victory. I caught him, though, as he looked up and made eye contact with me. My face was just as stone-cold as Hotch’s, but my eyes were telling a different story. Honestly, I looked like I wanted to kill him. I hardly knew him, yet I wanted to dance circles around his grave. I knew that Hotch was the protective one in our relationship, but there was something about the way that lawyer talked to him that made me want to—

“Charcoal gray,” Hotch spoke up plainly.

The lawyer’s smirk disappeared as he spun back around. “What?”

“Your socks.”

He chortled. “Well, you got one right.”

Hotch glanced over to me again, and I shifted in my seat when I felt myself grow hot. There was a look in his eyes that countered mine. While I was seeing red, he was still calm, collected, and sophisticated. He was even trying to hide a smirk. That was how he always looked when he knew that he was going to get the best of me. That look… it made my knees weak, and he knew it. That was why he glanced over in the first place.

“You match them to the color of your suit,” he said as he slowly looked back over at the lawyer, “to appear taller. You also wear lifts and you’ve had your soles replaced multiple times. One might think you’re frugal, but in reality, you’re broke. The Rolex on your wrist is a fake because you’ve already pawned the real one to pay off your debts, and you don’t want anyone to know, especially your family, because then they’d find out about your gambling addiction. I can tell you exactly what kind of gambling, too.” He shot me a quick glance. I hid my flushed face as I looked down at the ground. “Your vice is horses. Your Blackberry’s been buzzing on the table every twenty minutes, which happens to be the average time between posts from colonial downs. You’re getting race results…” I bit my lip and sank in my chair. “And every time you do, it affects your mood in court, and you’re not having a very good day. That’s because you pick horses the same way you practice law— by always taking the long shot.”

I gulped and tried to stop moving my thighs that were rubbing together for friction under my dress. I knew I made a mistake putting on Hotch’s favorite dress. I hadn’t worn it since the flight to St. Louis because it only got me in trouble the last time, but I thought that since it was a special occasion and we weren’t going into work, it would be nice. But now I could feel exactly how wet I was getting against the wooden seat beneath me, and I was cursing myself for rolling the skirt up to appear shorter, just like I always did. I was such an idiot.

“If I’m not mistaken, the results from the fifth race should be coming through any minute.”

And like clockwork, the lawyer’s phone started to buzz on the table. I looked up through my lashes to see that Hotch was grinning slightly at me. He knew what he did, that asshole. Not only had he gotten to the lawyer, but he had gotten to me, too. Fuck.

“Why don’t you tell us if your luck has changed,” Hotch concluded.

The lawyer tensed. His posture changed, his hands buried themselves into his pocket, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Well, if only my whole job weren’t a sham, I could have told him that his behavior meant that Hotch was right, and he was embarrassed at the profile that had been given in front of the entire court. Oh, wait. I had enough training and knowledge to make even the simplest of deductions about that man. He wasn’t unique, he wasn’t hard to read, he wasn’t special. Honestly, Hotch shouldn’t have wasted his breath profiling him in the first place, but I was glad he did, anyhow.

“No further questions, Your Honor,” the lawyer croaked, picking up his phone and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Very well. The court will be adjourned until 9AM tomorrow.” The judge banged the gavel down, and everyone moved to disperse.

Hotch came down off the stand, brushing past the lawyer without another glance or word. I stood from my seat carefully, testing to see if my knees could support me. It would have been embarrassing if I just toppled over then and there. Hotch reached out for my hand when he was close enough, and he started pulling me into the hallway outside the courtroom. I chased after him, having to skip a few steps just to keep up. When we made it out of the room, he stopped, pulled me into a sudden hug, picked me up off my feet, and spun me around. I giggled into his shoulder before he set me down carefully.

I looked at him when we parted. “Home. Now.”

“We have to go back to the office—”

“We’ll call them.” I pulled at his red tie around his neck slightly, making it look like an innocent and simple adjustment. “Please, Sir,” I whispered.

Hotch licked his lips as he looked around the hallway to make sure that no one heard. “We call them first.” I nodded. “You’ll behave until we get home.” I nodded. “Okay.” He grabbed my hand again and started pulling me out of the courthouse again.

The media was still there, and they were still pressing for questions, but Hotch and I ignored them as we made our way through. While it felt like an eternity to get into the courthouse originally, it felt like we practically teleported out. We rushed to the car. Hotch already had his phone out, and he was calling Morgan for an update. He put the phone on speaker as it dialed. I anxiously pulled at my seatbelt as Hotch started pulling out of the spot we were parked in.

Morgan picked up. “Out of court already?”

“Just finished the cross examination,” Hotch replied.

“How’d it go?”

“It went fine. What’s the update at the office?”

“We’ll just tell you when you get here,” Morgan insisted from a distance, like he was occupied with something else.

“We’re not coming in.”

Morgan scoffed, “Hotch, it’s only noon.”

“Yeah, I know, but Y/N isn’t feeling well, so we’re just going to head home.”

I glared at him, but he smirked at me.

“Okay,” Morgan sighed. “JJ and Rossi found Matloff’s birth mother. They’re there now, trying to talk to her about him and see if she’ll come forward as any kind of witness. Not much else has happened around her, unfortunately. We’re searching high and low, but it’s just like four years ago, we can’t find anything useful. Hopefully, his mom will have something that will pin him to the crimes.”

Hotch took a sharp right turn, making me grab onto the ceiling handle. He apologized quietly to me before continuing with Morgan, “Alright, well, just keep us updated. Send me a text when JJ and Rossi are done at the mother’s.”

“You got it. Tell Y/N to feel better.”

I hit a smirk by looking out the window. Hotch took a moment to clear his throat, also trying to mask the irony of Morgan’s comment that was making us snicker. “I will,” Hotch said calmly. “We’ll talk later.” And then he hung up the phone and threw it in the cup holder. “I told you to behave,” he said to me.

“I didn’t do anything!” I shouted defensively with a smile. “You can’t blame me this time.”

“I can and I am.” Hotch was trying to hide a playful smile. The longer I looked at him, though, the more he started to crack. “I love you, Y/N,” he admitted before he could let his smile shine through.

I grabbed his hand from the steering wheel and kissed his knuckles gingerly. “I love you, too.”

We pulled up to the house and I started to get excited about what was to come. The second we were in the door, I pushed him against the wall. I kicked the door closed behind me using my foot, and I ignored the ringing alarm just for a few moments so that I could get a hold on his tie and pull him in for a lustful kiss. When my lips were on his, Hotch grabbed my face and leaned over me to kiss me harder. Suddenly, he was pushing me backwards into the wall behind me, and while still kissing me and fighting for dominance with his tongue, Hotch stuck out his right hand and blindly searched for the alarm. He turned it off, then moved his hand to cup my neck. I moaned as he pinned me roughly against the wall. He parted from my lips and started panting.

“Why—”

“What you did on the stand…” I tried to kiss him again, but he tightened his grip around my neck, keeping me pinned. “I don’t know… I just…” I licked my lips. “It was hot, baby.”

His eyes turned a dark, lustful black as he smirked. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir. Please.” I wiggled, trying to create friction between my legs while simultaneously trying to touch him.

“Stay still,” he demanded. I could practically see him transition into Dom space, and in return, I immediately fell into sub space. I did as he asked, holding myself back from moving, and he released me. I watched impatiently, yet still obediently, as he reached for the tie around his neck and started pulling it off. “I wore my lucky tie for you today,” he told me. I had recognized that move when he got dressed in the morning, but I didn’t think that he’d say anything about it. He only wore it now and again when he needed good luck or there was a special occasion. It was the kind of day that needed luck and celebration, I supposed. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about doing this to you.” He grabbed my wrists and tied them together. I whimpered as he pulled it as tight as he could. “Quiet.” I nodded. “Good girl.” He raised my arms over my head, and he hung my tied wrists on one of the coat hooks on the wall. “Keep them there.” I nodded again, and he kissed me as a reward. “My good girl.” I bit back a moan. “Tug gently.” I did so, pulling my hands a bit to test the strength of the hooks in order to get a feel of how hard I could squirm without ripping the panel of hooks out of the wall. “Is that okay?” I nodded. “Good girl,” he complimented again while kissing my neck. I tugged again involuntarily, wanting to just reach out and touch his hair. “What was hot about me today, baby? You can talk.”

I let out a moan that had been building in my chest before I did anything else. Hotch smirked against my skin, then bit down gently to start leaving a hickey. “The way you talked to him— talked down on him. The way you silently profiled him, and then you—” I gasped when his hands cupped my breasts and started lightly massaging them. “Then you—” My knees buckled as he reached under my dress to unclasp my bra, then slid his hands under my bra so that he could pinch my nipples. “Sir—”

“Don’t stop.”

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. Keep going. What did you like about how I talked to him?”

I hesitated, trying to not think about the way he was pinching and rolling my nipples between his fingers. “You… You were so calm, so collected… Just like you are now…” I bucked my hips forward when he pulled at my nipples slightly. “I’ve never seen you profile like that… Like it was fun…”

He smirked and slid his hands out from under my dress. “Do you want to know what I think about you?’ I gulped as he let out a low, wicked chuckle that came from his throat, and he got incredibly close to my face, however, he didn’t touch me yet. “I know that you’re always a needy little whore for me. Always. I know that every time you look at me, your pupils dilate, and I can tell that you’re thinking about having me fuck you so hard you see stars. I know that you’d be on your knees right now, choking on my cock, if I asked you to. But I also know that you like to be a little brat all the time because you like getting me riled up so that I punish you. I know you whine, moan, and beg for mercy, but you secretly like it when I edge or deny you. I know that you’ll pull and tug at any restraints I put you in, but you’ll never actually put your full force into it because you like being a helpless slut.” He grabbed my neck. “I know that you like when I do this…” he whispered into my ear as he squeezed. I threw my head back, giving his hand more access and him a clearer view of what he was doing so that he would know not to go too far. “I know that you liked how I talked to that man today because I degraded him, and you like being degraded, too, don’t you?” I struggled against the restraints slightly in response. “Oh, yeah. I know I hit the mark. You want to know how I know? Because I’m good at what I do, and you’re obvious.” He released my neck, and I gasped for air. “I know that I haven’t even touched you, yet you’ve probably already soaked through your panties.” He grabbed my thighs roughly. He took a moment to make sure that I had caught my breath, then pushed my thighs open until my feet shuffled to shoulder width apart. When I was spread for him, he reached down to cup my heat with his palm to feel how I had soaked my panties, just as he had suspected. “Hmmm…” he moaned in my ear, “called it.” Within an instant, he yanked my panties down, helping me step out of them carefully, however. “Open,” he demanded once he had my panties crumpled in his palm. I opened my mouth and he suddenly shoved my panties in. “Do you taste how wet I made you?”

I moaned a, “Yes, Sir,” behind my gag, and my knees buckled, the coat hook barely catching me.

“Stand up straight, slut.” He grabbed my neck again and pulled me up. “Stay like that.” His hand returned to below my dress, and without warning, he thrust two of his fingers into me. I screamed behind the gag. “You scream when you know you shouldn’t moan; did you know that? You do it whenever you’re ashamed to admit that you enjoy what I’m doing to you.” He curled his fingers inside me, and I bit down on the gag to make sure I wouldn’t scream again. He chuckled, “And you get quiet when you don’t want to be punished.” He squinted. “What would I have to punish you for? Hmmm? Being a needy whore?” He hit my g-spot on purpose. “For jumping me the second we get into the house? For wearing this dress today and thinking that I wouldn’t notice? Let me tell you something. I gave that profile because all I could think about was getting home and torturing you all afternoon, so I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.” His thumb found my clit and started playing with it at an unrelenting pace. “And now that we’re here—” I screamed again when I felt my orgasm approaching, and it was getting extremely hard to stay up on my feet. I wanted to collapse again, but Hotch was glaring at me with a dare to try it. “Cum now and I’ll leave you like this all night.” My eyes pouted. “You better hold it.”

“Sir—”

“No.”

I whined, trying to hold still to prevent added stimulation. My walls clenched around his fingers, my stomach tightened, and I held onto his tie around my wrists to pray that I wouldn’t tip over the edge. Hotch had other plans, though. He worked harder to make me cum His fingers kept curling against my g-spot, his bicep bulging in his shirt to show all the effort he was going to in order to keep pumping his fingers in and out of me at an ungodly pace.

“Hold it for twenty seconds while I count, and I’ll let you cum.”

I nodded, screwing my eyes shut so that I could concentrate. “Yes, Sir.”

Hotch started counting backwards from twenty. He went slow and steady, watching me intently as I tried so hard not to fall apart. Trying not to cum around him while also putting energy into staying on my feet was nearly impossible, even when he got to ten. And he slowed down his counting even further. The asshole was taking about two to three seconds between every count, and I was so close to the fucking edge. I could practically feel myself already tipping over by five, but I kept trying to hold on for as long as I could.

“Three…” His thumb on my clit changed direction and pace, making me scream out again. “Two…” He hit my g-spot again. “One…” I just had to wait for the order. Any second now. I was about to tip over. “Cum.”

I came for him as he said it. My knees buckled again, and I kept screaming behind the gag, cursing his name over and over again. My walls tightened even further somehow, my legs shook, my arms pulled against the coat rack holding me back, and I felt my breath leave my lungs. Hotch pulled my panties out of my mouth. Before I could say anything, his lips were back on mine. He swallowed each of my moans as he continued to fuck me through my high. When I was done, though, and my body gave out, Hotch slowed his fingers.

“Good girl,” he whispered, somehow just as breathless as I was. I let my head fall forward onto his shoulder while he slid his fingers out of me. “Suck,” he demanded, shrugging his shoulder to lift my head. Exhausted, I looked up at him and let him shove his wet fingers into my mouth. “My good cum slut.” I moaned around his fingers. “You okay?” I nodded. He pulled his hand away. “Can you stand?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Once you let me down, I think I’ll fall.”

He snickered, “I’ll catch you.” He wrapped one of his arms around me while he reached up to pull my arms off the coat hook. As my tied wrists fell in front of me, Hotch caught me, just like he promised. “Did I get my profile right?” he laughed.

I hit his shoulder with my clasped fists. “That’s the only time I’ll ever let you profile me.”

“They say while shaking against me after screaming my name.”

I hit him again. “I could profile you, too, you know.”

“Mhm, you’ll have to do that after this,” he said before throwing me over his shoulder easily. I tried to protest, but my hands were still tied, and he spanked my ass when I tried to kick at him. I felt Hotch’s phone buzz against my hip, though, as we made our way upstairs. Hotch waited until I was sitting on the bed to check what was going on. “JJ and Rossi said that Matloff sent her the victims’ jewelry.”

My eyes widened. “Will she testify?”

Hotch nodded. “Yeah.”

“Come here,” I coaxed him towards me. Hotch threw his phone on the bed and leaned over me. I draped my tied wrists over his head, trapping them around his neck so that he couldn’t escape me. “I love you.”

Hotch leaned in for a kiss. “I love you, too.” And then he pushed me back onto the mattress.

In court the following morning, Hotch met up with Cece early to review the new evidence the team found. They also discussed the questions they were going to throw at Matloff’s mother. It sounded like we really had a good, winning case. That was a relief, at least. After yesterday's fiasco, we were on a winning high, but we needed to maintain that momentum. Bringing this new evidence forward was going to throw the defense for a loop, which meant that they would need time to examine the evidence themselves and prepare questions for Nina. Ultimately, that just meant that we would spend about thirty minutes setting up the court, another thirty reviewing the trial thus far, then the prosecution would get to start questioning Matloff’s mother. That was it. Short and sweet. Impactful. This was going to bury Matloff.

Hotch kissed me in the hallway outside the courtroom before he went in with Cece. Since he was part of the prosecution team (somehow), he got to sit up front with Cece this time, unlike yesterday, when he sat back in the crowd with me. I sat in the first row, just behind him. Just as anticipated, the first hour came and went without anything of interest, but then Cece was called to invite her next witness to testify.

“The prosecution would like to call Mrs. Nina Moore to the stand,” Cece said after standing from her seat at the table.

Everyone turned to watch as a woman sitting in the back of the courtroom stood. She was a tiny woman in every way, but she fit the description of Matloff's ideal targets. Slim, tiny, brunette, brown eyes women. It suddenly made sense why he hunted victims with that appearance because they were surrogates for his mother. His obsession with Native American culture stemmed from her, and when she turned him away (the stressor), he took it out on women who mirrored her image. If only they had that for the profile four years ago, or even a few days prior to her taking the stand. Would’ve been a huge help.

After being sworn in, Nina took a seat so that Cece could begin questioning her. Cece immediately dove in with, “Can you please state your name for the court?”

“Nina Moore.”

“And what is your relationship to the defendant?”

“I’m his birth mother,” Nina admitted. “I gave him up for adoption when he was a baby.”

“And that was how long ago?”

“Thirty-seven years.”

“So, you didn’t have a relationship with him?”

“No. I never saw him until 2003.”

“How did that happen?”

“He found me,” Nina whispered, looking down at her hands. “He wanted to learn about his heritage, my family. We met at a café, talked for a bit, then he left.”

“You talked about your family?”

“Yes.”

“What specifically?”

“He said he wanted to come home, to be a part of my family. But I told him that I couldn’t do that.”

“You felt that he was being irrational.”

“No, not at all. I just thought that he was a little lost. He wanted to belong to something.” Her voice started to crack as she suppressed the cry bubbling in her chest. “Turning him away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do!”

“Mrs. Moore, did the defendant ever try to contact you after that?” Cece asked, trying to get back on topic.

“Yes. He sent me something in the mail.”

“What was it?”

“A necklace. Two months later, I got another one. Then two months after that, I got a watch. I thought he was trying to persuade me with gifts or something. I never imagined…” She fell short of admitting the truth to the court.

“Your Honor,” Cece began, making her way back to her table, “I’d like to enter into evidence People’s Exhibits ‘F’ through ‘H’.” She picked up the bags of evidence and brought them back over to Nina on the stand. “Are these the items that you received in the mail?”

“Yes.”

“And this watch that you see in this bag, do you also see it in this photo?” she asked while holding up both pieces of evidence.

Nina froze. “Yes, that’s it.”

“Let the record show,” Cece said, turning towards the jury, “that the watch worn in this photograph of the third murder victim, Darci Corbet, was the same watch that the witness received from the defendant in the mail.” Cece put the evidence down. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

“Thank you, Counselor. Court will resume tomorrow morning at 9AM for cross examination of the witness,” the judge said, banging his gavel.

As we were all dismissed, and I stood to greet Hotch, I was taken aback when he walked over to Matloff’s table to look at something after he had been taken back into custody. My eyes followed Hotch, confusion washing over me. What did he see over there that was of interest? I didn’t understand. So I tried whispering his name to catch his attention, but he didn’t look at me. Cece and I exchanged a glance, and we both shrugged. I hissed Hotch’s name again, this time getting him to look at me. He went back to his seat at the prosecution’s table, grabbed his things, reached over the median to grab my hand, and started dragging me out of the courtroom.

“Hotch,” I called his name again quietly as we entered the hallway, “what is it?”

“I think that Matloff is getting his memories back,” Hotch said eagerly.

Cece and I exchanged another confused glance. When I looked back at Hotch, I asked, “What makes you think so?”

“I looked at the notepad in front of him during the trial today, and there were tears on it.”

“So?” Cece questioned.

“You don’t have that kind of reaction unless you’re connected,” Hotch explained.

If what he was saying about the tears, then it was true. I mean, I had my suspicions concerning his behavior in court, but I was never sure, especially considering how his evaluation the other day went. I thought that he genuinely didn’t remember anything and didn’t have any more sadistic tendencies because of how he passed that test. But Hotch was right, something was off. It was possible that Matloff was getting his memories back. If that were the case, then we needed to speak with him or the guards protecting him immediately to see if there was any new information we could use.

“I’ll go talk to the guards to see if they’ve noticed anything weird about his behavior, or if he’s mentioned anything about getting his memory back,” I offered. Hotch nodded, agreeing that it was a good idea. I started making my way down the hallway where Matloff was taken so that he could get changed back into his prison clothes. I flashed my badge to the court official standing guard outside, and he let me through without hesitation. “Thanks,” I whispered, moving past him carefully. I turned the corner and came to a sudden halt when I bumped into someone. “Sorry,” I apologized. When I looked up, I realized that I had run into Matloff, who was holding a gun. I reached for my weapon in my holster, but he already had his pointed at my temple. “Okay,” I mumbled, surrendering my hands. “Okay.”

“Don’t scream or try anything,” he demanded gruffly, grabbing my gun from my hip.

“Okay,” I agreed again.

“Walk quietly and calmly with me outside.” He pushed me towards the emergency exit down the hallway. With my hands still raised, I led the way towards the door. “Do you have a car?”

“I drove here with my boyfriend.”

“That’ll work.”

I pushed the door open. An alarm started ringing, triggering Matloff to push me out faster. With the gun pressed to my back, we hurried through the parking lot, avoiding detection from the media since we were leaving through a backdoor, and they were focused on finding out what the alarm was at the front door. I led Matloff to Hotch’s car, and he made me get into the driver’s seat while he got into the passenger’s.

“Your cellphone,” Matloff gestured with the gun before pointing it in my face again. “Throw it out the window.” I silently cursed him for having enough brains to realize that Hotch would try to call or track me through it the second he noticed I was gone. “Now!” he yelled at me when I didn’t move. I nodded vigorously, grabbing my phone from my pocket. I rolled the window down and threw my phone out a ways to make sure the car wouldn’t crush it. “Start driving.”

“Where?” I asked calmly.

“Blue Ridge Parkway.”

I screwed my eyes shut. That wasn’t good news for me. Matloff clearly had his memories back— if he even lost them in the first place. He obviously had his urge for murder back, at least, which meant that taking me to Blue Ridge Parkway was going to be his end game. Kill the fed, and he won. Even if he got caught, killing a cop— especially a fed— was the most impressive and respectable thing anyone could do when it came to prison rep. Matloff would be a saint on the inside. Great.

No one noticed us pull out of the parking lot. No one stopped us on our way out there, either. I thought that Hotch would have had the whole city on lock down, every street blocked off, and Blue Ridge Parkway under surveillance. Yet, no one was out there. Matloff opened the glove compartment as we pulled up to the trail, and he grabbed the extra pair of handcuffs that Hotch and I kept in there. He told me to put them on, which was probably just to make sure that I wouldn’t try anything still. He most likely knew who I was considering all the time I spent in the courtroom with him, and how clingy I was with Hotch. If he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t try to stop him, restraining me was the best way to do that. He had thought this through.

“You have your memories back, don’t you?” I asked as we got out of the car. I figured I could at least know the truth before he’d inevitably shoot me. “Or did you have them this whole time?”

Matloff was calm as we started walking down the path together. He didn’t walk ahead of me or behind me, just at my side a few feet away. Both of the guns he now had weren’t pointed at me, either. The one he stole from me was tucked in the back of his waistband, the one he stole from the guard swinging at his side as we walked. He probably knew that I wouldn’t try to run considering it would be foolish to run away from a serial killer with a gun. However, what he failed to realize was that I wasn’t going to run because I noticed something else. Matloff had always been off to me. Always. Since meeting him, I knew that something was wrong. But, now, as we were walking down the path where he preyed on his other victims, it seemed like his focus wasn’t on me. He was intent on getting somewhere. Even if he was going to kill me, that was going to follow whatever he wanted to find or do. I wasn’t going to run because I was curious. I wanted to know what the hell was so important to escape jail, kidnap a fed, and return to his crime scenes for.

“My memories,” he started explaining quietly, “started coming back last night. They’re in bits and pieces, and they come in hot flashes… I see what I did— who I was, and I hate it.”

“Then why do this?”

Matloff looked over at me. “Because I have to know the truth.”

“About how you strangled those three women?”

Matloff didn’t respond to my question. All he said was, “I’m sorry for scaring you and doing all of this.” I cocked a brow. “I just couldn’t let you stop me.”

“Stop you from coming out here? Why? Where are we going, Matloff?”

“Linville Falls,” Matloff said, looking up at the running waterfall we just approached. We came to a slow and steady halt as we both admired it for a moment. It was so beautiful and peaceful out there. I finally understood why he liked it so much, but it still didn’t answer why we were there. Before I could ask again, though, Matloff said, “You can go now, if you want. I won’t stop you. I promise.” He moved the gun he was holding in his hand to his waistband. I watched as he stepped off the path and started trudging through the mud and tall grass to get to something in the distance. “Go on,” he insisted, sensing that I was still watching him.

I didn’t move, though. I knew I should’ve made a run for it, or at least tried to disarm him, but I didn’t. He hadn’t told me why we were out there yet, and I didn’t know what he was looking for out in the field under the waterfall. But my interest was piqued when he got down on his knees and started digging through the dirt with his hands like a mad man.

I stepped into the tall grass, making my way over to him cautiously. He was still a threat, though he had proven that he had no interest in killing me. If I disturbed whatever he was doing, he still could’ve shot me or punched me or something. I knew that I had to be careful and maintain a safe distance.

And then we both froze when his hands hit something in the ground. I stumbled back a slight step when I saw a corpse emerging as he kept digging. Hotch suspected that there had been more victims, but he could never prove it… Yet there we were. Matloff was digging up a dead body and I was just watching like an idiot.

“Who… Who is that?” I asked.

Matloff sniffled as he pulled it out of the grave. “The first woman I ever killed.” He looked up at me with red eyes. He was crying. “I told you I had to know the truth… I wasn’t sure if I really killed those women until we got here, and it suddenly all came back to me.” He sat down on his tailbone and cradled the corpse. “This isn’t who I am anymore… I just had to make sure that you wouldn’t tell anyone before I could come out here to make sure it was real. I wasn’t convinced until just then when my fingers hit her skull.” He let out a sob. “I’m so sorry.”

“Matloff,” I crouched down, “are there other bodies out here?”

He shook his head. “It was just her.”

“Y/N!” Hotch called from the tree line.

I glanced over my shoulder to see him and Reid approaching with a SWAT team hot on their heels. “Wait!” I raised my cuffed hands in the air, waving them around to signal for them to stop. “It’s fine!” I yelled after noticing that they were all aiming their weapons at Matloff. “Don’t shoot!” Reid and Hotch slowed down, gesturing for the SWAT team to hold back. “He’s not a threat!”

With Hotch’s weapon still raised at Matloff, he carefully approached. “Brian Matloff, put your hands where I can see them.”

“Hotch—” I tried to protest, but Reid grabbed my shoulders and pulled me out of the way.

“Hands, Brian!”

“Stop there, please!” Matloff yelled back. “Just give me a minute… please…”

“I can’t do that, Brian.”

“Who is she?” Reid asked me quietly.

I glanced at him quickly before looking back at Matloff and Hotch. “She was his first.”

Hotch heard me, his shoulders falling slightly before he remembered to keep his steady stance. “Just put her down, Brian. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“I’m sorry,” Matloff cried quietly. “I’m so sorry…”

“Maybe you are, but you still have to pay for what’s been done.”

Matloff scoffed as he pulled one of the guns from his waistband. “I might as well just die right here… They’re going to put me on death row, anyhow. What’s the point?”

“You don’t know that,” I said, stepping forward again, despite Reid and Hotch’s protests. I stumbled through the grass, praying that I wouldn’t trip while my hands were still cuffed because I wouldn’t be able to save my fall. “The jury might not put you on death row. They might see your new slate— your innocence.” I carefully kneeled beside him, ignoring the corpse in his arms and the way he was waving the gun around aimlessly. “Matloff, look at me.” He did so. “You can still prove that you’re a good man. You could have killed me out here, but you didn’t. You’re clearly sorry for the things you did in the past. Show that in court. Prove your newfound innocence.”

“I’m— I’m scared,” he admitted to me in a hushed tone that only I could hear. I nodded understandingly, but my eyes were still pleading for him to do the right thing. This wasn’t the answer. This wasn’t the way out. “Okay…” he mumbled, dropping the gun.

Hotch carefully approached again, his aim still trained on Matloff. As Reid came over to grab the gun on the ground and the one in the back of Matloff’s waistband, Hotch grabbed his cuffs. “Put the body down, Brian,” Hotch ordered. Matloff did as he was told, gently resting the corpse on the grass before standing up so that Hotch could arrest him. “Do you have any more weapons on you?”

Matloff shook his head. “No.”

Hotch slapped his handcuffs on Matloff’s wrists, then passed him off to the SWAT team to be transported back to the jail in town. Reid came over to us as Hotch started getting my handcuffs off with the key from the car. He must’ve seen that Matloff stole them from the glovebox and made the smart decision to bring the key.

The second the handcuffs were off, Hotch threw his arms around me. His hug caught me off guard, making me stumble in his hold before I could hug him back. I didn’t expect that while we were still on the job, around our friends, on a crime scene, and in front of an Unsub that Hotch would pull me in for a desperate hug like that, I didn’t protest. I held him back, closing my eyes as I inhaled his scent. He smelled like his Aqua Velva aftershave, which was so different from the forest and waterfall scents nearby. Honestly, he smelled like home. I needed home after the day I had.

“You okay?” he asked me quietly before kissing the top of my head.

I nodded against his chest. “I’m fine.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go on your own.”

“We didn’t know.”

“Still.”

“It’s fine, Hotch. I’m fine. He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

Hotch squeezed my shoulders. “I love you.”

I nuzzled against him. “I love you, too.”

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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seizethecarpe · 3 years

Text

Between Bookends || Dave and Rio

Timing: Currentish, during versipellis plot. Summary: Dave knows he isn’t well, and he turns to the only scribe he knows for help. Whether that’s a good idea or not... well. They’ll find out. Content warnings: Body horror mention

Dave trembled, his muscles exhausted to the point of no return. He could barely steer the boat cohesively, except for the hunger eating at his stomach despite the pound and pounds of seal meat he’d already eaten. As he got closer and closer to the shore, the monstrous sickness became even louder, knowing its prey was nearby. He’d almost slaughtered Adam, had come close to killing several other too. Maybe he’d even drowned a couple, even if he hadn’t eaten them. Guilt tried to gnaw at him, but how could it even begin to compete with the hunger inside him? The boat shuddered to a stop, a small distance from where he’d dock it. Maybe just a small enough distance to give Rio the chance to run, or fight, or whatever the kid needed to. Dave took a last deep breath through his mouth, so that the last thing he smelled was the sea. If he didn’t talk, he wouldn’t have to breathe. He raised his hand to Rio in recognition. “You said you could help,” Dave signed. “How can you help?”

Orion didn’t know what to do with his hands. His eyesight made Dave’s boat coming into view that much more awkward. How close was close enough to start waving? How awkward would it be for him to stand completely still while Dave came closer and closer to land? In context of exactly what Dave was going through, none of this seemed relevant or important. But as Rio’s mind raced with all the possibilities of what could be wrong and how Dave could end up hurt, these annoying little social cues that Rio couldn’t get a grasp of seemed to be the only way to distract himself from completely freaking out. As an annoying compromise, Rio swayed his arms a bit by his side until Dave motioned first. Then Rio started waving and moving to close the distance between the two. Dave’s question didn’t exactly ease Rio’s concerns. Promising help was something that Rio always did. This time he actually needed to follow through on the offer. Easier said than done when he still wasn’t absolutely positive he was right. “Right. Yeah. I have some ideas. Um- I just want to be sure about what you saw.” Rio signed as he spoke, moving closer to the boat to try to help him with anything he needed.

“Stay back. I don’t rightly know if I have a handle on this.” Dave signed aggressively, taking a couple steps back in his boat. He’d seen Rio against the cockatrices, in tears over the thought of having to kill an aggro chicken. No matter what tricks Rio had up his sleeve, he wouldn’t do what would need doing if… well, just if. The hunger was an ambush predator, overwhelming him before because he hadn’t known it was there. That was the only way he could swallow the guilt of how close he’d come already to eating people. Now it could no longer sneak up on him, Dave liked to believe for a moment he would have control, but as Rio got closer, even without smelling the air, Dave’s mouth was beginning to salivate. “Biggest wolf I’ve ever seen in the woods. Not around a full moon, skin dangling from its back like it was wearing war trophies of something. Barely got away in time.” Dave raised his arm, showing the bandage and the angry red that had seeped through and had dried on the outside.

Crossing his arms in protest, Orion froze in place and kept the distance from Dave that was demanded. He didn’t like the idea of it though. Dave was clearly going through a lot right now, and what he needed was someone that could do whatever it took to help him out. Dave had given an overview of what was wrong and how dangerous he was becoming. Rio had to determine the line of separation between helping Dave and trying to keep himself safe. For as smart as he was told that he was growing up, it was just about the only thing that his parents would compliment him on, he hadn’t mastered the art of self preservation. “Jesus” Rio mumbled to himself, not wasting the time in signing it before moving on, “Right. Okay. Well, I have a theory. I think.” It wasn’t perfect and it certainly wasn’t something he had ever come across before, but the pieces of Dave’s story seemed to be fitting together. “I have a place we can go. Nobody but me will be there. But on our way, explain what you’re feeling. Like uh- you mentioned about a hunger for…” Unable to finish the sentence himself, he dropped his hands and left it open ended for Dave to elaborate.

“I’ll take the hint of an idea over anything swirling through my head at the moment.” Better than wondering what had broken in him, if this was the work of the Valkyrie messing with his head or a sickness Dave wouldn’t shake, or something to do with how rare Leopard Seal Selkies were, that there was something inherently wrong with him. Wild leopard seals ate the young of other seal species… maybe that was what he was relegated to, why he’d been so hungry for Ollie. Reaching out to Rio had been… desperation. Better than continuing to ignore it after nearly killing several. “People,” Dave signed, disgust curling his lips, ashamed of the admission. “I’ve almost killed… too many people, in the last few days. One of them a selkie. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

It was definitely as horrifying as it sounded, and Orion could understand why Dave was so set on keeping distance from him. He wondered how strong the craving was, or how hard it had to be to hold himself back anytime he was around someone. “I think I know what’s wrong. Maybe.” He couldn’t exactly be sure, not with all of the other craziness that happened around town. At any given time there could probably be three or more explanations to some gory murder or unexplained phenomenon. In this case, all the stars seemed to align. “I have a place that we can go. I’ll have you look through a book with me and if I’m right, it should help us figure out what to do next. Follow me okay?” Rio signed and then waved him along. The trip to the Scribrary wouldn’t take too long, but both would have to be on edge the entire time, wary of what might happen if Dave’s self control wavered. Rio had strength on his side, but he didn’t have experience. Or guts. “And it’s safe there.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Dave signed back, his hands jerking in agitation. He looked at Rio with wide, agonised eyes, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain his fears here. That even for a young man with very little meat on him at all, Rio looked delicious as a snack. It was only his breathhold that made just looking at the kid bearable. Dave didn’t want to point out that on that boat, he’d almost made a different call, not to a small scribeling with a fear of violence, but a hunter with a certified skill at murder. He wasn’t sure he’d made the right call. “I need to know you’ll keep yourself safe.” Because Dave had seen that too, in the woods with those cockatrices - that Rio had more strength in his than his baggy sweatshirts showed. Whether the will was there was a whole nother matter. “I don’t know how much grip I’ve got on this whole situation.”

“I’m optimistic” Orion ignored Dave’s question. He didn’t want to think about what could happen if Rio was wrong. The unknown would just induce panic that Rio couldn’t exactly afford right now. He was already panicking enough internally, a full blown panic attack would do nothing but hinder his ability to help Dave. He definitely didn’t want to think about how dangerous it was to willingly go alone to an abandoned building with a man who just admitted to craving human flesh. “I know how to get in and out of this place way better than you do. If worst comes to worst, I’ll just let you get lost in there.” Rio laughed nervously, unsure if that was actually a joke or not. They both knew that he wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to fighting or defending himself. Rio’s strength advantage probably wouldn’t go very far against Dave.

Orion didn’t talk much as they trudged through the woods. He was too busy forming a plan of escape in his head in case it became necessary. Dave kept his distance from Rio, which Rio knew was more in his interest than Dave’s. All Rio hoped was that he could give him some sort of hope that this wasn’t going to last forever. “Here we are” Rio mentioned nonchalantly, motioning towards the empty expanse of forest that sat in front of them. Now was hardly the time to be impressed by the Scribe’s magic, but he could never quite get over how the Scribe building would slowly come into view as if a mist was rising above it. All it took was a simple spell that Rio’s uncle had taught him so long ago. A trick built into an unassuming tree that allowed access only to those that were granted access. Within a minute, the whole building was sitting a hundred yards away, “So uh- welcome to the Scribrary. I’ll lead you back to the library. I have some books we should look at.”

“That ain’t good enough,” Dave snapped, but his options were limited. Clearly, he didn’t have the fucking werewithal to hold himself captive. He was already thinking about hunting down Ollie again. The crunch of her windpipe if he bit through her throat, the sweet flavour of the blubber of her skin if he caught her in the water. He’d only had harbour seals so far, a ring seal would be a delicious treat. With a start, Dave realised he was staring at Rio, blood-stained drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, every muscle in his body straining. If they’d both been on land, that small lapse in concentration could have been fatal. He put his hand on the engine, tempted to steer away. But what were his choices? Giving in, or calling a hunter.

Dave was damned if he was about to sign his own death warrant.

One final deep breath, and he steered the boat against the dock, and stepped on the dock, gesturing for Rio to lead. They walked quickly through the forest, Dave tapping every tree with a stick so that even when Rio wasn’t looking, he’d know where Dave was. If the tapping stopped… well. For as long as he could hold his breath, the monstrous hunger - unsatiated by how stuffed his stomach was - still craved more. He couldn’t help but stare at Rio, fantasising about how easy it would be to tear his head from his body, how the poor sweet child would probably let him rather than be violent. Dave wasn’t convinced there was much meat on him to eat, but it would be satisfying all the same. And once he’d had one…. Dave was sure it would be easier to eat the others. By the time the scribe headquarters faded into view, Dave could barely even manage to be impressed, only focused on Rio and fighting the temptation to eat Rio. “Hurry,” he signed sharply. He’d feel better if there was a locked door between them.

Orion wasn’t sure what to do about Dave’s apprehension. For better or worse, Rio was a lot less concerned about being attacked and eaten by Dave than Dave seemed to be about doing it to Rio. Sure, that was probably because Rio had a serious trust issue. Or rather, a trusting too much issue. He wanted to believe that Dave had the self control to stop himself from doing it. But the fact was that Rio had no idea what Dave was feeling right now. As a small measure of extra precaution, Rio reached into his bag and pulled out the knife that Athena had given him. It was silver, more specifically targeted for werewolves. But it would do fine against a Selkie if he really needed it to. Not that he had any interest or plans to actually use it. “I’ll make sure to stay on guard. Promise.” Rio waved the blade as a show before slipping it into his front pocket. Easily available.

Leading their way into the Scribrary, Dave was giving Orion the impression that things were becoming urgent. Rio didn’t like exploring the idea that Dave might actually take a bite out of him, but he still obliged, picking up the pace through the hallways of the Scribe building. “Stay here.” Rio signed when he got to the sleeping area. It was full of old bunks, most of them seemingly untouched for decades. In the back corner of the room was a pile filled with bags of clothes books. They laid next to the only bed with new sheets and comforters. Leftovers from the days that Rio spent most of his days and nights here. Before Winston and Ricky. “I’ll be back.” Rio jogged off as fast as he could to find the book he was looking for. It was his only theory for what was happening to Dave. It was still on one of the tables where Rio had left it and he swiped it off before jogging back. He hovered in the doorway of the sleeping area, keeping his distance from Dave. More for Dave’s purposes than Rio’s own. “Versipellis” Rio signed letter by letter, unsure how to sign it any other way. “My mom-” Rio paused, hands freezing midair before he backed up and started the sentence over again, “I learned about them a tiny bit as a kid, but I have never seen one before. Or even heard of one showing up. They look like werewolves, but they’re different. Their bite makes someone crave uh… cannibalism?” To put it simply. “How long ago were you bitten?”

Dave looked around the sleeping area, his brows creasing in concern at the sight of the used bed in the back corner, free of the layers of dust that coated everything else. Dave didn’t have to breath to know who had been sleeping there. He looked at Rio with a flicker of concern between all the barefaced hunger. Which was when he was left alone, inhaling shakily and trying not to let the taste of young scribe overwhelm his sentences. He grabbed the post of one of the bunks so tightly it felt like the skin over his knuckles might split. He wiped at the saliva dripping down his chin. When Rio came back, he spelled back the name of the creature, but muddled up the letters. It was so hard to focus on that when he could imagine feeling Rio’s rapid heartbeat under his throat. Rio would let him, wouldn’t even mind. He paused, for a moment not sure of the answer. Maybe the answer would bring Rio closer in, to eat even more easily? Dave rolled up his sleeve, showing the angry red bite on his arm. “6 days ago,” He signed back. “I can’t become a werewolf. This shouldn’t affect me.”

Orion didn’t like the way that Dave looked. He couldn’t describe the look either. In pain? Starving? Desperate? All of them seemed to fit in part, but none of them felt right. None of this felt right at all. This was the same man who was ready to get torn apart by the cockatrice to make sure Rio was alright. He shouldn’t have to worry about trying to eat anybody. Without knowing much about the man at all, Rio knew he was a good person. “They’re not werewolves.” Rio explained, leaning against the doorframe. He had the book open, but he didn’t need it. He had read the pages a hundred times. Memorized them line for line before even telling Dave he had an idea. He just couldn’t be sure. But he was pretty positive now. “You’re not safe from it just because you’re not human. I don’t even think-” Rio stopped himself. He almost told Dave that he wasn’t sure that he was even safe from the bite. But Rio hadn’t exactly had that conversation with Dave yet. About his hunter heritage. Right now probably wasn’t the best time, all things considered. “If you give in, you’ll turn into one of them.” Rio finished, “But there is some good news? You’re almost done. You only have to stop for like 9-10 days according to the scribe who wrote about them in this book.”

“Not werewolves?” Dave signed back skeptically, “I saw him change. Tear right through his human skin and be a wolf. How the hell is that not a werewolf-” He crossed his arms more tightly in front of his chest, watching Rio signing, trying to take in the words little by little. He’d turn into one? Bullshit, Dave thought, and began to sign the same. That didn’t happen to selkies. They were resistant, stronger than most humans when it came to whatever magic took one from a human to a werewolf. He already had a second skin, and how they hell would that even work? He shivered when it occurred to him that it wouldn’t. Whatever that thing was, it would not fit into his pelt. He would lose the pelt along with… everything else. His mind, his control. He’d lose the pelt. Dave shuddered, like ice water had been poured down his spine, his demeanor shrinking in on himself. Almost done, the scribe said, but when he said just how long… Under the sudden despair of his situation, Dave’s self control collapsed. To endure half the time again that he'd suffered with resisting his hunger… wasn’t worth it. Not when there was such young tender flesh in front of him. Dave looked up at Rio, opened his mouth to expose his jagged seal teeth, and sprinted at the man.

It happened quickly. One moment Dave’s facial expression looked like he thought Orion was crazy. Clearly he wasn’t convinced that he could change into such a creature. Rio supposed he understood the disbelief. The idea of changing into a werewolf wasn’t the same for a selkie as it was for a human. As far as Rio was aware, Dave was just as immune to the bite as Rio himself was. But just as Rio was trying to explain, this wasn’t a werewolf. It was another shapeshifter. One far rarer than an everyday werewolf. Rio didn’t think his own hunter genetics would protect him from this bite. But Rio didn’t get much time to think about it. Seconds later, Dave’s posture had completely shifted and suddenly he launched himself towards Rio. The only thing saving his life- and by extension, Dave’s- were the hunter reflexes. His arm shot out instinctively, launching the book he had been holding at the man’s face and then ducking falling backwards to avoid the man’s teeth. If he had been attacked, he might be able to heal. But if Dave got a bite out of him, it could all be over. Maybe. Rio still wasn’t exactly sure if a selkie feasting on a human would count as cannibalism enough to finish the curse. He wasn’t even sure it was a curse. More like some horrible disease. Either way, Rio wasn’t interested in trying it out today. The Scribe journals would have to go unanswered. Rio rolled off his back and out of the doorway, grabbing onto it and slamming it shut as a barricade between himself and Dave. “Okay, didn’t love that!” Rio yelled at Dave, trying to keep an ounce of calmness in his voice despite wanting to scream his head off. But that would only make Dave feel worse about what he had done once he was back to normal. For now, Rio needed to find a way to make sure he stayed isolated for a few more days. “Maybe you should just stay in there for awhile? It’s cozier than it looks!” He wasn’t even sure if Dave could hear him. Without the sign language and visual confirmation, Rio wasn’t sure anything he was saying was getting through to him.

Jaw wide, intent on sinking his canines into Orion’s pale flesh, Dave barely had a thought long enough to parse the wide swing of the book before the hardback surface slammed into Dave’s face, knocking him off balance. Stunning sense into his for a split second, rubbing his face as he looked up at Rio. He inhaled sharply, and like sharks in chummed water, the split second of control was lost once more as he rushed after the boy. “No!”

Dave tried to force his way through the door as Rio slammed it in his face. The hinges of the door rattled but held firm as Dave slammed his body into it. “Let me out!” He barked. “Orion, let me out now!” He backed up, teeth bared, rolling his bloodied sleeves up, and barrelled into the door again, ramming his uninjured shoulder into the wooden structure, over and over, leaving more and more bloody smears on the door each time. “I’ll kill you!” He bellowed, spit flying through the air, slamming his fist on the door. “Orion- kid. C’mon. You don’t need to do this. I need to eat. I’m so hungry it’ll tear me apart. Orion.” His rage drained out of him, forehead dropping to rest against the wood. “Shit.”

Then, much to his chagrin, Dave admitted, “Maybe that’s a good call, scribeling.”

There was something deeply disturbing about the way that Dave shifted back and forth. One second, Orion was wincing against the assault on the door from the other side. Rio had to keep him from getting out, but the constant pounding and screaming made him want to do nothing more than cower in a corner. The next moment everything would go quiet. Suddenly Dave would be pleading to leave as if he hadn’t just been threatening the hunter’s life seconds before. Rio’s hands were shaking, an after effect of the fear he felt. Not for himself, necessarily. But for Dave. He wondered how much of the real Dave was beneath the surface. Was he able to see everything that he was doing and saying? Or was he completely taken over by this curse or disease or whatever it was? Would he even remember this in a few days, when all this was over? How did Rio even think he could feasibly keep the man completely locked up for multiple days if he was acting like this?

He pulled himself into a fetal position, back still resting against the door. He didn’t know what to say to Dave. Nothing felt right, not in this situation. He couldn’t even know for sure how much of the man was actually there. For all he knew, Dave’s last statement of resignation was just a ploy to get Rio to drop his guard. “My book isn’t damaged is it?” Without any other ideas, Rio settled on a pointless question, quickly following up with “Oh uh- and your face too. How’s your face? Sorry about that?”

Dave stood, walking over to the bed where he’d dumped his phone, before returning to sit against the door, knees folded in front of him. He used the phone to text his reply. “Easier to talk like this. Less breathing.” It was an terrible way to say that he was one tiny moment away from tearing through the door with his naked teeth if he needed to. “Book’s fine. Might want to leave it in here. Keep that door firm and locked between us.”

Truth be told, Dave could barely process the pain. Not from the battery by book, nor the gash across his nose and cheeks - he was aware of it now, a sharb throb worsened by the assault by book, but it didn’t get through the haze of hunger. Not enough to do anything about it. “My face has had worse.” Like’ Rio’s would, if he got through the door. Dave punched the floor, grimacing at the thought. Now he recognised them, they were persistent, a constant whispering in his ears, to eat until the bones were clean. Dave started at the texts on his phone, and allowed himself one, singular moment of weakness.

“I don’t know if I can hold on for another 3 days.”

Orion jumped as his phone buzzed against him. He dug it out of his pocket and checked. A text from Dave. He hated this. Really, really hated this. He had no idea that this was actually going to work, just going based off of what one scribe wrote in a journal sometime greater than forty years ago. Rio bit his lip and held his breath at the man’s text. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Right. Book can stay. Maybe you can read it? Might be some helpful stuff. The information on the Versipellis is like sixty three pages in.” He sent the text and put the face of the phone against his leg. He didn’t want to see any replies for a moment. He just needed a second to collect himself.

The pounding on the door shook him from that moment. Just a single jostle, probably Dave releasing anger instead of trying to break out. Rio sighed and readjusted, resting against the edge of the door frame and stuffing his body in to rest his foot against the other side. He didn’t like the vibration of his phone. He didn’t want to see what Dave had to say. He had no idea how to make this better, and just barely had an idea to fix it at all. “I don’t know that we have any other choice.” Rio finally texted back, resting the side of his head against the door. “I don’t want to keep you locked in there.” That much was true. It went against everything he believed in. If there were any other options, Rio would jump on them immediately.“But I don’t know what else to do.”

Dave nodded, looking over at the book, but he knew in this state he was as likely to eat the pages as he was to read them, nevermind understand them. Hell, he was more likely to use the book to bribe the kid in here to eat him. The thought sent a shiver down Dave’s spine, of horror and anticipation. Hunger gnawed at his self control like a blunt knife at a fraying rope. “Got it.” He texted back, before locking his phone and curling his hands into fists. Dave had survived the maws of a mermaid, hunters bullets, spell caster magic, the chilling grip of an aipaloovik. This monster lived inside, but he could survive. He needed to, for the justice he’d promised his family so long ago. There was stuff on this earth he still needed to do. He clung to the last scraps of his sense of self ferociously.

Dave grimaced at the texts he got back from Rio. “Neither.” If it gets bad. Worse. You should call a hunter. Dave typed it out, and stared at the black letters on his screen, his fingers hovering over the send button. There was a long pause. He deleted the message without sending it, and stared at his phone. Eventually he settled on, “Just… keep yourself safe, kid.”

A lot needed to be done. Orion would need to figure out how to get food to Dave in the meantime. The scribe’s journal made no reference to the diet while waiting out the curse. Would he be able to eat regular food? Or would his body reject it? He would have to eat something eventually. Even if it had to be raw meat, at least it would be something. But he knew Dave wasn’t a pushover when it came to strength. Leaving him unattended wasn’t the best idea either. Dave could find a way out if he was desperate enough. Without Rio there to try to stop him, who knew where Dave could end up? Or who he could end up eating.

Dave’s texts hurt Rio. They sounded so… defeated. Hopeless, even. He couldn’t imagine the amount of stress or pain that he must be in. Rio would never understand the sort of craving that others had to go through. He hated that, wanting to understand something but knowing he never could. All he could do was try his best to do what he thought was right, “I’m going to keep both of us safe.”

#para #chatzy #rio #wickedswriting #v plot

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