#i really really really hope his character will only be threatened with a gun in double savage and not shot for real bc truly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

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Poisonously Bad Day

Requested Here! (Thank you so much for my first Tim Bradford req!!)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Just before your anniversary with Tim, you receive threatening messages. When someone tries to take your life, you and Tim learn the importance of talking to one another. (Or, Tim's crazy ex stalks you and Tim gets really worried about you.)

Warnings: reader is stalked and threatened, violence with a nail gun, reader has severe food allergies and uses an epi-pen, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine with our favorite grump, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I do not have much practice writing for Tim, so I apologize if he's OOC. However, I really love writing for him and trying to capture his amazing character, so I love the practice and appreciate any other requests you send me! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

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Tim Bradford doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Or he didn’t before he met you. Your sunny personality drew him in, making his world a little brighter. From the moment he met you a few months ago, Tim has been enraptured by you. He’s still grumpy; his personality didn’t change overnight upon meeting you, but your sweet laugh and kind responses to his grumpiness make him happy. His smile isn’t as rare as it once was, but you still fight to see it, bringing as much sunshine as possible.

As your two-month anniversary approaches, you’re happier and giddier than usual. Toning it down as you knock on Tim’s door, you’re surprised to see him already smiling when he invites you in. It seems you’re rubbing off on him, even if he only shows you the softness that lies under the grumpy Tim you know and love. Although your relationship is very new, you haven’t even learned much about Tim’s previous relationships, you know you love him and treasure every moment you spend with your man of honor.

“Hey, you,” Tim mumbles, pulling you into a warm hug. “Missed you.”

“Long day?” you ask, pushing your fingers through his hair.

“Unbelievably. Nolan and Lopez decided to interrogate me about why I was in a ‘good mood’ all day.”

You stifle a laugh at Tim’s air quotes. He rolls his eyes when he sees your bright smile but pulls you into the kitchen anyway.

“I didn’t even know you could smile,” you tease him. “Now I want to know what caused the good mood.”

“I think you know.”

Despite his initial hesitance in getting close to you, Tim obviously knows how to treat you right and make you feel seen, appreciated, beautiful, and loved. Each moment you spend with him makes you a little more curious as to why no one has snatched him up yet. Yes, he’s grumpy, but he’s also just a big teddy bear underneath if you’re willing to dig.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim usually walks you home after dates, but he gets called into work, so you return alone. There is a small envelope slipped in the space between your door and the jamb, and you decide to open it before going inside.

The simple message reading ‘Back Off’ doesn’t give much information, so you shrug as you unlock the door. It’s probably just some kids messing around or a silly prank that ended up at the wrong house.

As soon as you lock the door behind you, your phone rings.

“Hello,” you greet cheerfully.

The line is silent for a few seconds before it beeps, disconnected from the other end.

“Wrong number,” you hum to yourself as you walk away from the phone.

When it rings again, you don’t answer. Your cell phone rings, a rare picture of Tim smiling (that he will delete as soon as he finds it) lighting up your screen as you race to answer it.

“Hey,” you say.

“I called your house a second ago, are you home yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, someone called right before with a wrong number, and I thought it was them again.”

Tim hums before telling you he wouldn’t be at work as long as he thought; he just needed to help with some paperwork before a case went to court.

“I can get reservations for next weekend if you’re still okay with my restaurant choice.”

You smile at Tim’s willingness to let you choose before assuring him that you only want to be with him, but you like the food there, too, so it’s a win-win.

After Tim hangs up, you fall asleep, forgetting about the note and the phone call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Someone knocks on your door as you exit your bedroom the following morning. You locate a bathrobe, pulling it over your pajamas before opening the door. Another envelope is on your mat, but no one is in sight.

The message in this one is a bit more concerning. The message, typed in a plain black font, reads: ‘I will KILL you to take him back.’

You consider calling Tim, asking him if he knows of any pranks like this going on in the neighborhood before deciding he’s probably too busy with real police work. Maybe you’re just paranoid.

Your cell phone rings, and you answer quickly, silencing when the only noise on the other end is distorted breathing. After they hang up, your thumb hovers over Tim’s number.

“Grow up,” you chide yourself before returning to your room to get ready.

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the day, more creepy phone calls are made to your cell phone until you finally turn it off. When you meet Tim for lunch, he asks if you got the message he sent you, and you tell him a white lie: too many telemarketers were calling, and you turned it off. He nods, but his gaze is intense like he doesn’t quite believe you.

✯✯✯✯✯

After three days of phone calls with nothing but breathing and more notes about someone killing you to get whoever him is back from you, you’re tired. However, the morning goes by with no calls, and you think maybe whatever it was is finally over. When you walk out to your car, you freeze in the driveway and nearly drop everything you’re holding.

Someone has slashed your tire and put a large building nail through it to attach a note.

You are next.

Up to this point, you’ve been more agitated than anything, but now you’re scared. Whoever this is has been close to you and knows when you come and go. But, at the same time, it’s just some notes and phone calls, not like you’re in any immediate danger.

Your phone buzzes, and you jump, an incoming text from Tim startling you. You reply to his message quickly, telling him you ran over a nail at some point and won’t be able to meet him for lunch. Seconds after pressing send, he calls you.

“Morning,” you answer, staring at the nail in your tire.

“Are you alright?” he asks, ignoring your nice greeting.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still at home, just noticed the tire.”

“I can come pick you up for lunch,” he offers. “Or come see you.”

“It’s completely out of the way, Tim, no worries. I’ll make up for it tomorrow?”

Tim doesn’t speak for a moment, and you can nearly see the crease on his forehead as he dissects your answers.

“Sure,” he says finally. “Call me if that changes.”

As he ends the call, he rubs his chin and decides to ask you what’s going on next time he sees you. You had been so happy and excited leading up to your anniversary, but it’s like a switch was flipped in you, and now you don’t want to talk to him. He believes you about the tire, but something else is bothering you, and he intends to find out what.

✯✯✯✯✯

Eating lunch at your desk, someone brings you a box from your favorite bakery.

“This was delivered to the front desk,” your coworker says, leaving it with you.

There are no names on it, but Tim is one of very few people who knows how much you like their treats. He also knows that you have severe food allergies, and it is one of the few bakeries in Los Angeles that happily works around them. Smiling at the idea of Tim sending you something after your rough morning, you open the box and take one of the goodies out.

After the third or fourth bite, you realize something is really wrong. As your throat closes, you start to panic as you dig through your bag for your epi-pen. One of the girls at a desk near you sees you and rushes to your aid, pulling your spare epi-pen from the communal snack area and inserting the tip into your leg as she yells for someone else to call 911.

The adrenaline surges into you, clearing your throat as you take a deep breath. Immediately, you know that whoever slashed your tires knows more than where you live and when you leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

The hospital is busy, and people are in and out of your room so frequently that you can barely think straight. You hear someone yell your name, recognizing Tim’s voice anywhere. He appears in the doorway a moment later, wide-eyed as he looks you over.

“I completely forgot I put you as my emergency contact. I’m so sorry,” you apologize lowly.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice softer than it was outside as he nears your side.

“I- I ate something and forgot to check the ingredients. Then I couldn’t find my epi-pen.”

Tim knows you always check the ingredients; your allergies dictate part of your life. If you didn’t make it or order it after inquiring about its ingredients or how it’s made, you don’t eat it.

“How are you feeling now?” Tim asks, deciding it’s not the best time to press for the truth. His hand lands on your leg, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“I’m okay. My chest is still a little tight but they gave me something for it.”

“Let me call my chief and I’ll take the rest of the day off so I can take you home,” he offers.

“No, don’t do that, Tim. One of my coworkers can give me a ride home so you can go back to work.”

“I don’t think you should be alone.”

“The medicine is working, I just have to give it time and take it easy for a few hours. I promise I will be fine.”

Tim nods, squeezing your hand before kissing your forehead. “If you need anything, call me.”

You nod, watching him go. The feeling of his hand on yours is still there, and you feel terrible for lying to him, but there’s no real evidence that someone is trying to hurt you. Maybe someone was trying to be kind with the treats and didn’t know about your allergies.

Even as you think it, you realize it sounds ridiculous. You’re in danger, and you’re going to have to tell someone eventually.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your coworker drops you off after you insist you can walk to the door alone. Mostly, you don’t want her to see the giant nail in your tire.

Worse, you realize, is the other one. You slow when you see your front door, with a six-inch building nail driven into it. It’s nearly level with your eyes, and a disgusting mix of red and brown paint covers the door below it. A replica of a murder scene, you presume.

Finally understanding that every little thing over the last few days has been a threat, you don’t feel safe alone in your house. Stepping back, you prepare to call Tim.

Before you can, you see a woman standing in your driveway, staring at you with a nail gun and a paintbrush hanging from her hand.

“Who are you?” you ask quietly, swallowing as you try to steady your voice.

“I’m the one that Tim Bradford is supposed to be with,” she answers, slowly moving toward you. “Everyone could see how good we were together. Then you showed up and he changed his mind about me. Whatever you did to get him away from me… I will do so much more to you.”

You step backward as she speaks, fumbling with your keys behind your back. Just as she reaches the front of your porch, you step inside quickly and slam the door, locking it and looking around frantically for something you can use as a weapon. It gets quiet outside, not even a footstep audible as you hold your breath to listen.

A key slides easily into your lock, and you scramble into the kitchen, loosening your grip on your stuff to grab a knife on your way to the bathroom, one of the only doors that lock. The front door closes and locks, her easy footsteps far too familiar with the layout of your home.

Reaching for your phone to call for help, you realize that you dropped your phone to get the knife. You stand in front of the bathtub, terrified as you raise the knife in front of your chest.

After a moment of silence that seems to last an eternity, the doorknob jiggles. You tighten your grip on the knife handle as she hums.

A nail shoots through the lock, lodging in the metal mechanisms, and you back up until your calves are pressed to the cool side of the tub. Another nail comes through the door, launching through the hollow wood and lodging into the tile on the wall behind you. You drop your head as the tile shatters, and a third nail follows quickly, her aim much lower as it hooks your pants, pinning you to the porcelain behind you. You rip your leg free, stepping away from the tub and failing to notice the stinging sensation or the blood trickling down your ankle as you climb into the tub, hoping it offers enough protection.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim clenches his jaw when his third call to you goes unanswered. You promised to keep him updated after the anaphylaxis scare, but it’s been a couple hours since he left you in the hospital, and he hasn't heard a thing.

“Tim, just go,” Angela says, a knowing look on her face. “You won’t be able to focus until you know they’re okay. Unless you’re finally willing to tell me who brought a little sunshine to Timothy Bradford’s cloudy skies,” she taunts at the end.

Tim lets out a soft “hmm,” accepting her offer and gathering his things from the edge of her desk.

“She must be important,” Angela calls behind him, smirking to herself when he doesn’t correct her.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your breaths are loud and shaky even as you focus on controlling them. Several more clicks are heard from the nail gun, and you flinch each time, curling further into the bathtub. A loud screech draws your attention, a second nail dislodging the knob and the lock before the door opens.

You take your chance, hoping to surprise her as you jump toward her, knocking her to the floor and using both hands to point the nail gun away from you. She tries to roll out from under you, squeezing the trigger and firing a nail into the ceiling as she does. A small shower of drywall dust coats the room, but you keep your head down, entirely focused on keeping her at arm’s length.

“When it ends – when you end – I get him back!” she grunts, twisting in your grasp.

The sharper end of the paintbrush she had earlier is pushed into your side, and you gasp, loosening your grip on the nail gun. She raises it quickly as she tilts to the side, dumping you onto the floor and taking the upper hand. A nail is fired beside your head, momentarily deafening you as you flinch away from it.

You are unsure if she said him or Tim, but you think she means the same either way. Tim is the only thing you can think of that someone might want to take back from you.

“Isn’t that his choice?” you ask, pushing her hands away from you as she gets angrier.

She drops the paintbrush before using both hands to push the nail gun toward your forehead. You raise your legs, kicking her forward and over your head. As she topples, she squeezes the trigger multiple times. After the last firing sound, you open your eyes and notice a nail holding your shirt to the floor.

When you hear her groan behind you, you reach over until you feel the metal trash can beside your toilet, raising it over your head and dropping it aimlessly.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim has dozens of questions he wants to ask, but as he races to your house, they slowly fade into two: are you safe, and how can he make you see that telling him everything will benefit you both? He knows he doesn’t always seem like the best listener and isn’t big on sharing, but he wants to know what is happening in your life, what you’re feeling, and what you’re dealing with. More than that, he wants to be at your side, helping you navigate a life with him.

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens with a loud bang, causing you to flinch. You attempt to sit up before yelping in pain when something tugs your side. Someone is running through your house, and you’re torn between yelling for help or staying silent in case she wasn’t working alone.

Tim yells your name, and you sigh before answering, “In the bathroom.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim turns into your driveway, blocking the sidewalk as he parks behind your car, he sees the oversized nail protruding from your tire. Walking past it, he knows that wasn’t accidental, nor was the slash below it.

Worried about you and racking his brain over who would do something like that to you, he sees the scene on your door and kicks it open before he even thinks to knock.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim stops in the hallway, his eyes raking over the nails lining the door and the few stray ones in the wall across the hallway. It appears that most of the attack was aimed at the bathroom, but whatever happened escalated quickly.

Using his shoulder, he forcefully opens the door before entering the small bathroom. He steps over your unconscious assailant, lowering to his knee beside you. Looking over you, he lays a hand on the side of your neck, a warm and welcome comfort as he directs you to look at him.

You try to move closer to him, but he rushes to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t move. The ambulance and more help are on the way, let’s just wait for them,” he says.

You nod, trusting him but unsure why he won’t let you move.

“Is she…” you ask, trailing off.

“She’s unconscious,” Tim answers concisely. “What’d you hit her with?”

“The trashcan,” you answer, a small smile appearing and making Tim shake his head.

“I should get one of those,” Tim jokes, leaning toward you.

Sirens grow louder as they get closer, and Tim sighs in relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can’t ask what happened yet, that’s for the next cop. But as your boyfriend, are you okay?”

“I am now,” you answer, raising your hand to lay over his on your jaw.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Do you know who she is?” the officer asks as the EMT sits beside you.

“No,” you answer. “I’ve been getting phone calls and messages for a few days, but I’ve never seen her before.”

“I have,” Tim interjects, shaking his head at you before supplying a name. “My ex.”

“Any idea as to why she attacked you?” the officer asks, glancing toward Tim.

“Sergeant Bradford, I presume. She said she’d kill me to get him back, but never said who him was,” you answer.

Tim nods, lowering his voice to explain something to the officer as the EMT asks questions about how you feel.

You sigh in relief as the paramedics carry Tim’s unconscious ex out, gripping Tim’s hand as he moves to your side again.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” the kind EMT says.

Tim moves his fingers, letting you squeeze him as much as you need.

“The nail caught some of your skin, but I’m going to try to go fast to minimize the pain.”

Understanding why it hurt to sit up before, you focus on Tim’s hand in yours rather than the hands on your torso, working to free you from the bathroom floor and stop the bleeding.

“All done,” the EMT announces. “You didn’t even flinch. We’ll get you to the hospital and let the doctors check everything.”

You sit up with Tim’s help, leaning against him as a temporary bandage is placed on your side. Looking around your destroyed bathroom, you move closer to Tim, grateful for him.

“Your ex is crazy,” you mumble against his shoulder.

Tim laughs, and it's a short but relieved noise accompanying his arm across your back, keeping you close and comforted.

“We’ll fix the bathroom later,” he promises.

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, prompting Tim to kiss the crease between them. “You’re not coming back here for a few days. Don’t give me that look.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Leaving the hospital, Tim lifts you from the wheelchair, staring at you when you grab his shoulders.

“I can walk, Tim,” you remind him.

He doesn’t listen or doesn’t care, taking the last few steps to the passenger seat and setting you down before buckling your seat belt, mindful of your bandaged side. He carries you into his house, grabbing some of your favorite snacks and drinks before sitting beside you and welcoming you into his arms. He’s quiet, but you’ve grown to understand Tim’s different silences better than most people’s words.

Right now, he’s relieved, but you’re sure he has a lot of questions, too. Getting him to ask them is the hard part.

“Have any other exes I should know about?” you ask after a few minutes.

“Hmm.” He raises his fingers as he nods and shakes his head, a playful ‘debate’ over who is worthy of being mentioned. Lowering his hands and giving you a sincere look, he says, “No, I don’t think so. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention her, I never expected she’d do something like this.”

You nod, though you never considered blaming him for something so completely out of his control. This is all on her, and she’ll have a chance to explain herself.

“Think I’d be a crazy ex?”

“You won’t be an ex at all,” Tim answers, tugging you closer against his chest.

Turning toward him, you trace your finger in small shapes over his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tim asks gently.

You shrug. “I didn’t know how. And it wasn’t that bad at first.”

“You have to tell me these things or I don’t know something is wrong, I can’t help.”

“But you get grumpy,” you reply with an exaggerated pout.

Tim proves you right, grumbling even as he kisses you. “I’m allowed to be grumpy when someone is hurting the woman I love.”

You sit up quickly, and Tim’s eyes widen, his hands raising to your side as he grows concerned that you hurt yourself.

“You love me?”

Tim shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he mutters, “Against my better judgment, yes.”

You giggle at his grumpiness, leaning back into his side. He pulls your legs across his lap, letting you curl completely into his side. Toying with the hem of his your borrowed sweatpants, Tim lets his mind wander before tracing a gentle finger around the bandage on your ankle.

“Tickles,” you argue when you yank your leg away from him.

Tim pulls your leg back down, pointing out, “I deserve a few tickles after the week you put me through.”

“I was poisoned, and you had a bad week?” you repeat.

“I knew you were lying, you lying liar that lies!”

You duck your head at the reminder of everything you kept from Tim over the last few days. The anniversary you were so excited about now seems tainted.

“Hey,” Tim whispers, drawing your attention. “I’m not mad at you. And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m right here.”

“I don’t even know how she found out about the allergies,” you mumble.

“That’s probably my fault. I have notes and epi-pens everywhere, so if she was close enough to do this to you, she was close enough to find any of my stuff laying around.”

You shiver at the idea of her going through your things, but Tim’s hand rubs down your back and chases those thoughts away.

Taking his invitation, you start at the beginning and tell him about the notes, the phone calls, the bakery box, and how the little, seemingly harmless notes progressed so quickly. He grows grumpier with each word, so you determine you may need to make the ending a bit more interesting for him.

“And then my knight in shining armor showed up and saved the day,” you finish, kissing his cheek. “He’s just a grumpy teddy bear.”

Tim pulls you closer, glad to have your company again. “Tell me things and I’ll be even more of a teddy bear.”

You smile excitedly, so Tim clarifies, “Only for you.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #tw: violence #tw: injury #🐿 anon

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confused-pyramid · 3 months

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You're the Only One Who Knows to Slow it Down | s5

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 16.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, major character death, gun violence, drinking, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 5x01, 5x02, 5x06, 5x09, 5x10, and 5x21

a/n: This season was really hard to write at points (I think we all know which eps I'm talking about lol) but I'm looking forward to brighter days ahead:') Also we get some more tangible tension so yay! Title is from Look After You by The Fray

series masterlist

"We're not working a case," Derek states matter-of-factly when you arrive at the crime scene. You were woken up early the next morning after getting back from Canada, and on less than four hours of sleep, your brain is struggling to function.

"Why call us to a crime scene?" you ask, walking up to the front door of the house with the rest of the team.

He shrugs. "I was hoping you knew."

You look around, trying to find Aaron, but he's nowhere in sight. He had promised to put in the team request for a few days of leave, but you presume the call came in before he got a chance to do so.

The local police let you survey the scene, explaining that a Dr. Barton got a threatening letter that someone would be murdered everyday that he didn't give up his own son. Once you're done inspecting the body, you turn to JJ, lowering your voice. "Where's Hotch?"

"He's not answering his cell," she says, her lips thinning. "I assume it's on vibrate."

You nod. "I'll try him again."

You step away from the group and click his number in your speed dial, listening to the rings until it reaches his voicemail. It's unlike him to keep his phone on silent, but you know the previous night was tough on everyone. "Hey, it's me." You tell him the address you're heading to for the case, before turning towards the car and lowering your voice. "I know you're probably just asleep, but I don't know...I have that weird feeling again that you know I get...so please just call me back." You take a deep breath, hoping you're being overdramatic, and that you'll see him pull up in a few minutes. "See you soon."

When you get to Dr. Barton's house, he still hasn't called you back. You sit with the doctor, Prentiss, and Reid in his living room, going through his recent patient files, while Morgan, JJ, and Rossi head to the school to find his son.

"Something set this guy off," Emily explains as you start poring over the records. "Odds are it's in your files."

You manage to get through about a dozen before Dr. Barton stands up with a sigh. "My son is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all of these patients in time."

You check your phone again, mostly to see the time, but you also note that there aren't any new calls or messages. "He's right. We need more eyes on this. I can get Hotch and be back in a half hour."

"Keep us updated," Emily says, nodding at you. Concern flashes across her eyes for a millisecond, and you're sure it reflects the look in yours.

The drive to his apartment doesn't take long, and you stalk down the hall, all the way to the end, until you find his door. There's no answer the first time you knock, so you reach for the spare key he gave you, but before you can use it, you realize the door is already unlocked.

Your heart drops into your stomach and you pull your gun out, using it to push open the door carefully. "Aaron? Aaron, it's me."

When the door is ajar, the sight before you almost makes you drop your gun. There's a large bullet hole in the far wall, along with a patch of drying blood and bits of broken glass on the floor. His phone is on the ground as well, and his gun and holster are lying on his dining table.

You crouch down on your heels, trying to calm your breathing, as you take in your surroundings. You need to think logically about this, or you'll be no help at all.

A few things come to you as your mind clears.

His car is still outside.

No blood splatter around the bullet hole.

No drag marks.

You dig your hand around your back pocket and pull out your phone, dialing Garcia as fast as you can. "Overtime shift, Penelope speaking."

Her chipper voice usually calms you down, but right now you need to cut to the chase. "Garcia, it's me. Something's happened to Hotch. You need to get an APB out on him."

Her breath stutters. "What do you mean, something?"

"There's blood on the floor," you whisper, willing your voice not to crack as your throat thickens with tears. "There's also a bullet hole in the wall, probably a .44."

"I'll send the whole team," she says before you cut her off.

"No, don't call the team. They need to finish the case we were assigned. Just tell Emily, since she's expecting me back, but send every other agent in the vicinity."

"On it."

The line clicks off and you release your breath, before standing up again. While you wait for the crime scene techs, you poke around his things in the main area, trying to see if anything has been taken or moved. The only thing you notice before they arrive is that a page has been ripped from his address book.

"Agent L/N?" a voice calls from the doorway.

You lift your hand. "Yeah, in here."

They come inside and get to work immediately, so you step out, just in time for Garcia to call you back. "Y/N, I checked local hospitals for his name, and I didn't find anything at first, but then one of them told me something really strange."

"Garcia," you whisper through gritted teeth. You love her, but she needs to hurry up before you explode. "What was it?"

"Someone dropped off a John Doe at St. Sebastian hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."

Your vision turns black for a moment. He's back. Foyet's back.

You're rushing to your car before she has a chance to hang up.

***

He's still under anesthesia when you arrive at the hospital. He was stabbed nine times. That's what the nurse told you when you flashed your credentials and asked for any information she could give you.

Now, you're standing in his doorway, trying to build up the nerve to approach his sleeping form. Even with all of the bandages covering his arms and abdomen, he somehow looks peaceful. It's been so long since you've seen his brow unfurrowed, his forehead smooth, without the tension that invades his daily life.

After a few minutes, you take a step inside, then another, and suddenly you're right beside him, reaching out to clutch his hand over the bedsheet.

His skin is cold, and you wrap both hands around his to warm it up, if even by just a little. He's usually a furnace, generating his own heat even when it's freezing out, but whenever he gets hurt, his hands turn to ice.

After a minute, your phone buzzes in your pocket and you let him go to answer it. It's just Emily telling you that she's at the hospital with the rest of the team, and you walk out into the hall to talk to them.

Rossi is the first to reach you. He squeezes you into a hug before getting back to business. "You sure it was Foyet?"

"He had Morgan's credentials," you nod, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck. Derek glances at you then, and you press your lips together with a nod.

"Did they catch him on the security cam?"

"You could see him dropping Hotch off," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady, "but the camera's only on the entrance, so I have no idea what direction he went once he left the hospital."

Emily shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the E.R."

The nurse from earlier approaches you then, pulling your attention. "Agents, he's waking up."

You shuffle inside and take his hand again as everyone walks in.

His voice is soft when he opens his eyes. "Where am I?"

"In the hospital," Emily whispers, taking care to be mindful of her volume.

He shuts his eyes for a beat. "How did I get here?"

"Foyet drove you." Rossi doesn't frown often, but the lines of his face are clearer than ever. "Can you remember what happened?"

Hotch shakes his head, closing his eyes. "What did he take? The Reaper always takes something from his victims."

"There was an address page missing from your day planner," you whisper, finally finding your voice. "In the B's."

His eyes snap open and he tries to lift his head from the pillow, but he can only wince. "Where are my clothes?"

Emily hands him a plastic bag filled with his belongings, and he ruffles through them, until he finds his wallet. When he opens it, a photograph is stuffed inside, covered in blood spatter. Haley and Jack.

Your breath catches, and he seems to realize what it means at the same moment you do. "Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the B's in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands."

You squeeze his hand involuntarily, and he exhales sharply. "He knows where they live."

***

When the rest of the team rushes off to his old house, you stay with him at the hospital. You get a call soon from JJ that Haley and Jack are just fine, and you are finally able to breathe easy for the first time all day.

"They're okay," you tell him when you hang up the phone. "That was JJ. She said Haley was home and Jack's at a playdate, but Morgan is going to pick him up right now."

He nods slowly, his body relaxing into the bed. "Good. That's good."

"It is," you say, eyeing his movements. It's still enormously difficult to look at him like this, but you won't be able to move forward if you don't know the truth. "Aaron, what happened? What did he do?"

"I don't remember all of it," he says slowly, clearly taking his time with each word. There's no rush, and he knows it. Even if it takes him hours to get it all out, you'll still be here. "I remember him being there when I got home, after I dropped you off. He fired off a shot into the wall, and then I tried to tackle him, but..."

He trails off, and you squeeze his hand tighter, as though trying to tether him to the present moment. After a few shallow breaths, he continues. "I tried to tackle him, and I got him on the ground, but then he overpowered me." You can almost see it in your mind. The picture he's painting as he weaves over the details with startling clarity. "The first one hurt the most."

The first stab. Your eyes close for a beat, like you're trying to hide from his words. The first of nine.

"I don't remember much after that." You can tell he's leaving things out, but you also don't know if you'll be able to handle it if he does tell you everything.

"That's okay," you whisper as his eyes droop down. "You should rest."

He nods slowly as the exhaustion takes over and his grip loosens around your hand as he falls asleep.

You wait by his side for about a half hour, until you spot a familiar face (with a new haircut) dawdling in the hallway.

You stand up in a fervor. "Oh, thank god."

You rush over to Haley and pull her into a hug, which she returns just as forcefully. "JJ called us when she found you, but it's still really good to see your face."

"It's good to see you too," she says with an exhale before letting you go. You look down and see Jack standing next to her, his mouth downturned as his fingers twiddle at his sides. "Do you mind staying with him while I go talk to Aaron?"

You turn around and see that he's blinking his eyes open again. "Not at all." You take Jack's hand with a smile and lead him down the hall.

"I'm sorry if the big men scared you," you tell him once you find a few seats in the waiting area. "I know it was all very sudden."

To your surprise, his face breaks out into a big grin. "Uncle Derek let me turn on the siren!"

"Wow!" you smile, feeling warm laughter echo around your chest. "That sounds super fun."

He nods ecstatically, before leaning his head over to look back up the hall. "Can I see Daddy now?"

Your smile falls as fast as it appeared and you take his hand again, pressing his fingers between yours. "Soon, baby, soon."

***

He wakes up to the sound of faint talking. He can vaguely see you hugging someone, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision as you disappear down the hall.

"How do you feel?" Haley asks as she walks into his hospital room. She doesn't come further than the foot of the bed, but he's just glad to see her here, in one piece.

He clears his throat quietly. "I'm gonna be okay." She doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't want to focus on him right now. "Did they explain to you what's happening?"

She nods slowly, looking at him for another moment. "They said the Marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody."

She looks upset, and it takes him back to the lowest moments of their relationship. "Haley, I'm sorry."

She looks down and the familiar urge to comfort her returns, even while lying in a hospital bed. "Do you know where they're gonna take us?"

"No, I don't." He tries to catch her eye but she won't look at him. "And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

She finally looks at him then, and her sadness is tinged with exasperation. "Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now."

He doesn't know what else to say but: "I know. I'm sorry." He hopes he's conveying what he means, but it doesn't feel like enough. "We will catch him, and you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

She nods minutely, and he takes the small comfort. "Are you sure that we're in danger?"

"Yes." There's little else he's been more sure of.

"And what about you?" she asks, her voice small. "Are you gonna be safe?"

He doesn't want to worry her, but he also doesn't want to lie. "He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can't see him is better than killing me."

Her brow pinches and she pushes her short hair back from her forehead. "Jack wants to come in."

He tries to argue at first, not because he doesn't want to see him, but because it will only make it harder to let him go again, but eventually she convinces him to accede.

She leaves to go get him, and he leans back on the pillows, trying not to let himself sink inside.

Haley finds you in the waiting area, with Jack sitting on your lap, in the middle of a game of I Spy.

"Is he ready for him?" you whisper when you see her approach. She nods and you lift Jack off your lap and set him on his feet. "Off you go, buddy. Time to see Daddy."

"Yay!" he cheers before racing down the hall, you and Haley right behind him. She steers him into the correct room, and he jumps onto the bed before either of you can stop him.

There's a quiet chorus of 'be careful's before he grunts, "Don't worry. It's okay. The doctors made sure that I'm completely fine." He turns to the small boy with a smile you haven't seen in days. "Did Mommy tell you that you two are gonna take a trip?"

Jack nods once, moving his chin up and down dramatically. "Yeah."

"So I'm not gonna see you for a while."

Jack frowns. "Why?" The word sounds so small out of his mouth, and your heart cracks in your chest.

"Well, think about it like when Daddy goes away for work. Only this time you and Mommy get to go someplace."

Jack ponders this for a few seconds, before crawling up again and wrapping his arms around his dad's neck. "Are you okay?"

"I'm very proud of you." It's a father's answer. The kind of response that doesn't tell the truth, but hides the pain with love. "Every single day. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

Haley says another goodbye and grabs Jack's hand before leading him out of the room. She gives you another hug, squeezing extra tight for the last second. "It's not his fault."

"Of course it isn't," you whisper, letting her pull back.

"No," she whispers, closing her eyes. "I mean, don't let him blame himself for this."

He's one of the most stoic people you know, but he can also be so transparent sometimes. "I won't. I'll be here."

"He needs you," she says with a sad smile. "He's always needed you, but he especially needs you now."

She doesn't let you respond before she's tugging Jack down the hall. You watch as she exits the side door of the wing, and only turn back when you can't see her anymore. She's one of your longest friends, and you won't be able to see her or her son for god knows how long.

When you step back into the room, you stand at the foot of his bed, trying to gauge what he needs from you, but then you see his expression. Tears prick the corners of his eyes and his mouth twists as you rush forward and grab his hand, squeezing it between yours with the grip of someone holding onto a life preserver.

"They'll be okay," you whisper, trying to keep your own tears back. "We'll get through this."

He nods, his eyes still shining. You move to sit in the chair beside him, but he tugs you back, pulling you closer. You understand the desperate look in his eyes, the need for connection and comfort from someone you care about that you've seen in yourself on so many occasions.

Slipping your shoes off, you tuck the sheet into his side and carefully climb onto the little hospital bed, taking care to avoid any of the wires and tubes. Once you're sure you're not pulling on anything, you curl up beside him and wrap yourself around his arm. His skin is warmer than it was earlier, and you take solace in the fact that he's going to be okay. Maybe not now, but he will be.

Your breaths synchronize with his and you listen to the beeping of the heart monitor as your own heart rate calms down. There's a feeling tugging at your spine, filling you up and threatening to spill over, but you shove it down, knowing it will be too much right now. You don't have the words to describe the emotions circulating through your brain, so you stick with what you know. "I love you." It's quiet, barely a whisper, but you know he can hear you. "Thank you for staying alive."

"You're welcome," he whispers back, his voice barely audible over the monitor. "I love you too."

***

You leave the hospital the next morning with a plan. He's still asleep when you wake up, so you get up carefully and thank the nurses one more time before heading out.

You make two stops on the way to his apartment, and this time, you use your spare key to unlock the front door. The crime scene crew cleaned the blood off the floor, and you told Rossi to get them to spackle the hole in the wall, for at least a temporary fix, but there's still an air about the place. It was just starting to feel like his home, and now it's soiled, once again.

You shut the door behind you and drop your bags to the ground, surveying the place one last time for any damage or mess you missed earlier. When everything seems fine, you get to work.

An hour later, you slump back against the wall and toss the packet of instructions to the ground. In front of you is a freshly installed security system, with a door proximity sensor and keypad for when he leaves the house in a hurry.

You can already hear the arguments coming, but you don't care anymore. You won't be able to sleep knowing he's in here, all alone, without anything to keep Foyet from coming back and finishing the job.

For someone who has as little of a technical background as you do, you're impressed with how quickly you were able to get the system running, and you test it a couple of times, turning it on and off and checking the doors, before you finally pull his door closed and lock it behind you.

***

The doctors don't release him until the end of the week, but once he's able to walk again, he calls you to get him from the hospital. By the time he signs his discharge papers and makes the phone call, you're already almost there, and as much as he hates putting you out on a weekend, he can't help the satisfaction that rumbles through him.

The drive to his apartment is mostly silent, with him just trying to stay still as you take the turns carefully, and drive five under the speed limit. When you arrive, you hold the bag of salves and ointments for him as you take his arm, helping him down the hall and to his front door.

He moves to grab his key, but you stop him with a forceful "Wait!"

"I can unlock my own door," he grumbles, but you just shake your head, taking the key from him and turning it slowly in the lock. The moment it swings open, a loud beeping fills the air, and you rush forward to type something into the keypad by his door. Wait...keypad? "When did tha-"

"Before you argue," you jump in, clearly anticipating his disgruntlement, "it's for me, okay."

He raises an eyebrow and you glare at him, but there's no effort behind it. "I mean, it's obviously for you, but still...it's for my peace of mind too."

You're rambling makes him crack a smile for the first time in days, and he nods slowly. "Okay."

Your mouth snaps shut and you look at him with a meek smile. "Okay."

You help him get settled on the couch, and he waits there as you scrounge up some food from the kitchen. He's not sure he has anything perishable, but you manage to put together a comforting bowl of pasta with jarred tomato sauce that makes him feel a little more at home.

As the evening turns to night, he catches himself glancing at his watch more often than not, and eventually you catch on too.

"Is it time?" you ask, your voice gentle.

After a breath, he nods, and you reach across the coffee table to grab his bag of supplies from the doctor. You lay the salve and extra gauze on the table, and wait for him to make the next move, a decision he accepts gratefully.

He's been injured before. He knows how painful it is to sanitize a wound, and especially one as deep and grotesque as his. He just needs a few moments to accept the fact that he's...scared.

"I can do it," he says once he's ready, before reaching for the salve. The simple motion makes him wince and you jump in right away, grabbing it for him and undoing the top.

"Let me," you whisper, your words somewhere between a statement and a question. "Please."

He can already feel his stitches pulling, just from the simple act of swiveling his body to face you, so he gives in with a quick nod.

He doesn't look at you as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. He's not embarrassed - you've never pitied him, even at his lowest moments - but he needs the semblance of privacy as he exposes his injuries to the open air.

The air feels cold as he pulls his undershirt over his head, and you get to work immediately, peeling back the old layer of gauze as slowly as you can. The sections directly over his wounds stick slightly, and he grits his teeth against the pain as you gently tug them free, making sure to avoid pulling his stitches.

"Do you want a break?" you ask once the gauze has been fully removed. He shakes his head, needing this to be over as soon as possible, but when he meets your eyes, he sees them welling up with tears.

He glances down at his bare torso, his eyes darting over the jagged scars ranging from his stomach to his collarbone. Your breath stutters as you take it in with him, and he looks at you. "He made sure we'd match."

He sees you rapidly blinking away the tears that rush forward, and he wants to comfort you somehow, but he doesn't know what to do. You help him lean back on the armrest, so you can apply the salve around each of his injuries, and as your fingers press into his skin, he can't help but be reminded of his childhood. The pressure of your hands as you wrapped him with bandages, the warmth of your breath when you leaned in to inspect your work.

It's usually a sad memory when he thinks back to his childhood, but with you, it was always good. He watches as you slowly tape the new layer of gauze around his abdomen, and even as tears slide down your cheeks, the way you look at him doesn't change.

"All done," you whisper after pressing on the final pieces of tape. "How do you feel?"

Anxious. Terrified. Lonely. Guilty. "Good. Thank you."

***

"Hey, it's Emily."

"What's up, Em?" you say, your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you hop around, trying to get your shoes on before work.

"How was your weekend?"

You pause. "Fine?" The question isn't out of the ordinary, you're just not sure why she called to ask you that when she's going to be seeing you in person in about twenty minutes. "How was yours?"

"Oh, you know." She sounds distracted, and you feel a smile pull at your lips as you realize she's avoiding something.

"Em...is there a reason you called? You know, given that we're both on our way to the same place."

She clears her throat, and you hear the indecision in her voice, even over the phone. "I know this is kind of a weird question, but would you mind if I picked up Hotch for work this morning. I left late last night, so JJ was able to brief me early, and I figured he could use a headstart."

You stop your movements, straightening up and lifting your hand to your cell. It's not at all what you were expecting her to say, but that's not all you're confused about. "Yeah, of course. You don't have to ask me first, though. We're all teammates."

She makes an little noise that you don't recognize. "Yeah...but you two are different."

You don't know what to say to that, so you just wait for her to keep going. Emily was never very good at uncomfortable silences, so after a few moments, she's back. "Anyway...I'll grab Hotch and see you in 30?"

You try to hide your grin, even though no one can see you. "Sounds like it."

"Bye."

The phone clicks off, and you tuck it back into your pocket, still smiling. You're already in a better mood than normal, because after 34 days of medical leave, Aaron comes back to work today.

You finish clasping your shoe and head out the door, more relaxed this time. With Emily picking up Aaron, you're not in a rush anymore. You take the drive at a leisurely pace, and when you arrive at the office, you run into Spencer by the front of the building.

"Wait up!" you call out, jogging over to him before he gets in the elevator. "Let me get that." You slide the strap of his book bag off his shoulder and sling it onto yours. He nods in thanks and tucks his crutch under his arm as he presses the button for your floor.

"I thought I'd be used to the crutches by now, but I keep tripping over everything." You scrunch your brow with amusement as he frowns down at his leg. "The doctors say it's healing well, though."

The elevator doors open and you step in front of him to get the door across the hall. "Does it hurt?"

He shrugs. "It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time."

The statement isn't exactly comical, but his deadpan tone makes you snort as you hold the door, and he smiles as he passes by you. You follow him to Garcia's lair, and she perks up upon seeing the both of you.

"My babies," she grins, pulling out a chair for Spencer. "Sit, sit."

You let out a laugh as you place his bag on the floor next to him. "I'm older than you."

"Who's counting?" she throws back, typing something furiously into her computer. She turns around a moment later, just in time to swat Spencer's hand away from the tin of cookies sitting on her table. "No, no, no."

"What?" he complains, gaping at her.

She swats him again, before pulling the tin away from him. "Get away, you. These are for Hotch."

"Butterscotch?" you ask, glancing down at the box. His preference for butterscotch cookies was something you used to tease him about when you were kids. Butterscotch Hotch.

Penelope nods and lifts the edge of the lid, implicitly offering you a cookie. When you take one, Spencer throws his hands up into the air. "Why does she get one? I get shot in the leg and I still don't get any cookies."

You laugh and break off half of your cookie, which he takes from you the moment it's in your palm. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth, not bothering to swallow it before he pipes up again. "You know he's gonna hate the attention."

"It's cookies," Garcia pouts, "not cake."

Spencer shrugs. "He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened, anyway."

"Well, it doesn't mean we have to."

You don't know how to weigh in to this discussion, mostly because you know more about how he's feeling than they do, but also because the idea of speculating on his recovery without him here feels like a betrayal.

"What do you think?"

You look up and realize that Spencer was directing this question to you. Swallowing down the last bit of your cookie, you cough once to clear your throat. "I think he's been through a lot, but sometimes coming back to work is the best way to take your mind off of things. Foyet was in his home. I don't think staring at the same walls that used to have bullet holes in them is exactly healthy either."

Spencer and Penelope both stare at you for a moment, before nodding and looking down. They remind you of two children who have just been reprimanded, and you smile to soften the sentiment. "I love you guys for caring about this, but we just have to trust that he's okay."

"Yeah," Penelope nods, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. "Are you okay? This can't have been easy for you, either."

"I'm fine," you say too quickly. "Nothing happened to me." It's not a lie, exactly. You weren't the one who was stabbed. Nine times. "I've just been keeping him company after work, and helping with some of his post-hospital care checklist."

"He's lucky to have you," Penelope says softly, to which Spencer nods.

"He was great too after I got shot," you add, feeling oddly defensive of your friendship. "He stayed with me for a long time when my dad was gone."

She smiles at you sadly, before holding the tin out for you. "Want another cookie?"

You let out a weak laugh as Spencer chuffs behind you, and you shake your head. "No thanks."

"Do you think he'll like them?" Her voice sounds earnest, and you nod, knowing what it's like to want so desperately to understand someone who's as closed off as he seems at times.

"Spence, Y/N, there you guys are."

You turn around to see JJ, her face lined with tension. "Are you ready for us?"

She nods. "Grab your go bag."

***

He's been erratic all day. When he snapped at Garcia earlier for missing the antipsychotics link, you wanted to throttle him, especially when you remembered the cookies she had waiting for him in her office.

The thought that maybe Spencer was right keeps flashing through your mind as you watch him get frustrated with everyone, including himself. When you all arrive at the Darrin Call's father's house, where he and a young boy he kidnapped are waiting, Aaron instructs Emily to speak with the lieutenant on scene to figure out what you're dealing with.

"The kid's in there," you hear him say, "We've got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. Call needs a distraction. He's focused on the old man."

Emily glances back at the house as she ties her hair back. "For now. But we're gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out."

"I've got a team in the back and one on the way. We're going to infiltrate."

"You do that and someone else dies."

The man just shrugs. "Either Call or a child murderer...flip a coin."

"It doesn't have to end like that." You can see how hard she's trying to make the lieutenant understand, but sometimes the locals just don't listen. "We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die."

There's movement behind you and you turn around at the last second as Aaron stalks past you and towards the house.

"Hotch," you call out, but he doesn't look back. "Aaron. Aaron!"

He's almost at the front door, and your feet start moving without you realizing it. You make it within a few feet of the front gate before two pairs of arms seize you from behind, halting your momentum.

"Let him go," Dave whispers as he and Derek release you. "We have to trust him."

"He's not thinking straight," you grit out, unable to tear your eyes away from the closed door as you step forward again. He wasn't wearing his vest, and you can't remember if you saw his gun in his holster. You close your eyes, wracking your brain. Think, goddamnit.

Derek grabs you again as you try to make a break for it, anticipating your movements before you even know what you're doing. "Rossi's right. We have to trust him. We can't help him if we rush inside now."

"We can't help him out here either!" Your voice sounds frenzied in your ears, but he doesn't loosen his grip, even as you try to shove him off of you.

"You know we're right." He looks at you sternly, and your resolve diminishes as reason starts to set in. "Going inside will only make it worse."

Emily comes up from behind you and takes your arm, leading you back to the street in front of the house. You back up, but you don't turn around, ready to rush in the moment anything changes.

"What's he doing?" she asks Derek, her voice quiet, like she doesn't want you to hear.

"Stalling," he says simply. "He's got nothing to lose."

Your breath catches and you lift your hand to your chest, clutching the top of your vest like it's a lifeline. You want to scream at them, scream that he has everything to lose. He has a son, and an ex-wife who loves him, and he has you.

"You got the shot?"

"Negative."

He suddenly appears in the front of the door, but you can tell he's angling his body to block the visual of the shot. What is he doing?

The door opens for a split second, and the little boy runs down the porch and into the arms of one of the SWAT members. It shuts as fast as it opened up, and you only manage to see his face for a moment before he disappears into the house again.

For a minute, there's only silence, until the air is pierced with the sound of three gunshots, one after the other. Your body visibly flinches and you throw yourself forward and over the gate, pulling out your gun at the last moment as you breach the front door.

When you storm into the living room, Aaron is putting cuffs on Darrin. The father is dead in his recliner at the center of the room.

"What happened?" Dave asks from behind you.

He purses his lips. "I couldn't stop him." It's then that he finally looks up at you, but all you can do is glare. You don't know if you've ever been angrier in your life, and definitely not at him.

His brow dips with a mix of confusion and remorse, but you just stuff your gun back in its holster, spin around, and stalk out of the house. The fresh air outside feels like a welcome respite from the emotions swirling around inside of you, and you turn your face to the sky as your brain fires off millions of questions at once.

When did he get so reckless?

Is this all because of Foyet? The need to feel like he's getting something done, with his family on lockdown?

He comes out of the house then, and you're practically shaking from the relief that he is okay, but the anger isn't fading. You can feel it flooding your veins with each breath you take.

He hands Call off and approaches you slowly, stopping in front of you with a look you don't recognize.

"This is the job," he says simply, his voice almost cold. "You know what you signed up for."

"I know what I signed up for?" Your face twists with disbelief and you look at him with contempt. "Fuck you, Hotch." His face drops slightly and it only feeds your fight. You know him better than anyone else in this world, and that also means you know exactly how far you can push him until he cracks.

"This is what we do." His voice is tight, and you see your anger reflected in his eyes. "You knew that when you joined the team."

Emily and Dave exit the house, and you can feel their eyes flickering over to you, but you can't bring yourself to care right now.

"No," you grit out, shaking your head. "You don't get to be angry with me. You don't get to say that to me."

He looks at you for a beat before his face falls and you see all the fight leave him. He sighs, his brow pinching. "You're right."

You can practically see the war going on inside his head. The battle between fear and action, where there are no winners.

You nod as you look down at the ground, and he reaches forward to take your hand. He squeezes it tightly, before lifting it to his chest. "Y/N." I love you, I'm sorry.

You nod. "I know." I'm sorry too.

***

You've been looking at the text JJ sent you for the better part of an hour. Something's going on. Strauss was in Hotch's office and it looked bad.

You're reminded of his suspension and the two long weeks you worked here without him, and you internally resolve that it won't be happening again if you have any say at all.

The next morning, you're one of the last people to arrive, and you walk into a conversation that Spencer is having with Emily at his desk.

"You're not gonna believe this," he says, turning to you and lifting his hands dramatically. "Some moron just posted a blog called 'What would Carl Sagan do?' and it's completely illogical."

"L/N, what did I miss?"

You spin around to see Derek strutting into the bullpen, his phone held up in his hand.

"What do you mean?" you ask with a frown.

He looks at you expectantly, and you start to feel like you're on the outside of something you should know. "All the emails from Hotch..."

You yank your phone from your pocket and refresh your email. "I don't have any new ones."

"Me neither," Reid chimes in from next to you.

Derek doesn't wait another moment before he's barreling past you and up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"What was that about?" Spencer asks, a confused look on his face.

"I don't know," you say honestly, "but I think we're gonna find out soon."

"You wanted to see me?"

He nods and you step into his office, shutting the door behind you. Ever since his private conversation with Derek this morning, you've been obnoxiously curious about what's been going on with the team, but you also know when not to overstep your boundaries.

"Take a seat." He beckons to the couch on the far wall, and he sits down across from you when you plop down. "We have to talk about something."

"If you say Strauss suspended you again-" He cuts you off with a lift of his hand. You look at him sheepishly and nod. "You were saying..."

"This is going to sound odd, but just hear me out." You're starting to get worried, but he doesn't look anxious, so that's a start. You nod, and he continues. "The bureau thinks that my ability to lead this team has been compromised. They've been questioning me since Foyet's attack, and they're not entirely wrong."

You want to refute this, but you've also been questioning some of his actions as of late. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that you won't have his back if it comes down to it. "They can't fire you. The whole team will fight back if they even try."

He looks at you with something that resembles concern. Concern? "They won't fire me...because I'm stepping down."

"What?" you burst out, unable to help your volume. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm resigning as unit chief at the end of the week, but I'm not leaving this team."

You think you have an idea of where this is going, but his eyes are still tracking your movements, like they do when he's worried about how you'll react. You don't know how it could get much worse than this, but then you realize he hasn't told you who will be replacing him.

"I told Morgan to take my place until we catch Foyet."

There it is. You don't expect it to sting as much as it does. "Oh."

Your voice sounds small to your own ears, and you clear your throat to keep the emotion out. This isn't a personal decision, it's professional. If Strauss was telling you this now, it probably wouldn't faze you. So why does it hurt coming from him?

"Strauss wasn't happy with your decision to not take the New York position," he explains, his eyes finding yours. "You know I think you deserve more leadership roles. It was her that suggested Morgan for it, and I couldn't argue when she was already so unsure about letting me promote internally."

"I get it," you nod. Your tone a bit sharper than expected, even though you understand where the decision came from. Derek deserves this position too. "I do, I promise."

He raises his eyebrows with a check in, and after a moment, you finally nod. It's okay. We're good.

"I'll see you in the morning?"

You dip your chin. "Good night."

***

"I can't believe Hotch is stepping down."

Penelope, Emily, Spencer, and JJ are all unabashedly watching Derek as he briefs Strauss on the case he chose for today. You've been trying not to look, but every few minutes, something snags your attention.

"Morgan said it's business as usual," Emily adds, her brow furrowed as she watches them converse.

Penelope doesn't seem eased. "So we're just supposed to move forward without any discussion?"

Spencer shrugs. "After Foyet, I think we'd have to be ready for anything."

Derek finishes speaking with Strauss then, and you stand up as he asks Emily to call Rossi for the briefing. He looks official with his ironed button-down, and you can't help but wonder if he's trying to emulate Aaron.

You flash him a cheeky smile as he walks towards the conference room, but he just brushes past you.

Derek steps into his new role effectively, and you even notice him provide extra feedback to everyone throughout the case. Hotch has a bit of a difficult time stepping down at first, but you know it comes from habit, not distrust.

When you're back at the office later that night, you look up to see that he is still in his office, furiously jotting something down, even though his responsibilities have been greatly diminished. You don't know why you expected the demotion to make him want to cut back a bit.

Derek is the only person still in the bullpen when you take a seat again. You finished up the last of your paperwork, so you start to pack up your stuff, but then your interaction from earlier crosses your mind again.

Latching your bag closed, you stand up and perch on the edge of Derek's desk. "Hey, boss, how's the responsibility feel?"

"Fine," he mutters, his tone snippier than you've ever heard it.

"A lot more paperwork than you were expecting, huh?"

He doesn't look at you, so you reach forward to tap the back of his hand. "Derek, come on, what's going on with you?"

You brace for him to snap at you again, but then he just sighs, setting his pen down. "You're not angry with me, right?"

"What?" You don't know where this is coming from, seeing as how he's been the one who's been avoiding you all day. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Why?" he repeats, his face twisted with disbelief. "I basically stole this position out from under you."

You shake your head forcefully, putting your hand over his on the desk. "Not even close, hon. Anything on my end was bureau politics, but that's just one side of it. You deserve this just as much as I would have. You've even been at the BAU longer than I have."

He's silent for a moment, before he turns his hand under yours and clasps it gently. You give his hand a squeeze before bringing your other one up to his cheek. "You're doing a great job. You were an amazing leader out there today. Hotch picked you well."

Derek leans into your hand for a beat, before letting out another sigh. "Thanks."

"Seriously, Derek," you say with a smile. "This might have been one of his best professional decisions yet."

That makes him laugh, before shaking his head. "Nah, his best decision was bringing you to this team."

Your chest fills with warmth and you lean forward to pull him into a hug. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, and you settle into the hug, turning away from the office light upstairs and trying to ignore the fact that Aaron hasn't looked up from his desk since you started talking.

***

"Agent Hotchner, before you go, there's one final thing I'd like to share with you."

Karl Arnold, the Fox, has been taunting each of you throughout the whole day, and right when you finally thought you were done, he drew you right back in. You follow Hotch and Prentiss back into the interrogation room.

"So you think you found my admirer."

"No," Aaron says simply. "We found the killer."

Arnold grins. "With my help, of course."

"Your admirer is exactly like everyone who contacts you..." Emily sneers, "lost."

Arnold turns to her, and the look in his eyes makes your skin crawl. "My love, your guy is far from lost."

Hotch shakes his head, turning to the door. "We're done."

"So is he." All three of you spin back around, much to his amusement. "'Look at what I have done.' It's quite brilliant, you know?"

"We will find whoever sent you that."

"No, Agent Hotchner, I rather think he's already found you."

Aaron immediately starts flipping through the file on the table, shoving pictures and papers aside as he searches for something. Something about Arnold's tone sends your mind reeling and you grab the journal in front of you and start flipping through it as well.

"What's going on?" Emily asks, coming up behind you.

Arnold just laughs. "He's torturing him."

"Who?"

He ignores her. "It's great to see you squirm, Agent Hotchner."

You reach one of the bookmarked pages, and the symbol that greets you almost makes you drop the journal. "Aaron..."

His eyes snap to your hands as his skin turns white. "Foyet."

The three of you rush out of the interrogation room, accompanied by the disturbing sound of Arnold's laughter echoing behind you.

Just before the door shuts behind you, you hear his final words. "He knew you'd come."

***

The whole team spends days with only one goal in mind: find and capture Foyet. JJ works with you and Garcia to track prescription medications that he would be on given his self-inflicted injuries, and Spencer, Emily, and Aaron put together a geographic profile using the letters from the Fox and the proximity of nearby pharmacies. Derek's role as acting unit chief keeps him busy all on its own, but he manages to keep the team on track as he turns any new cases that come in to other teams.

When JJ returns from a local pharmacy with the discovery that many prescription meds have over-the-counter alternatives, the focus shifts. Garcia narrows down the list, and brings back a list of names that is way too long to feasibly question.

"153 names," you huff, leaning over her shoulder as she scrolls down the list.

Emily frowns. "Well, he's not gonna use his own name."

"What kind of aliases should we be looking for?"

You all consider this, before Derek chimes in. "He could have easily stolen someone's identity."

Hotch shuts that idea down immediately. "No, he's a narcissist in love with his own mythology. He'd use a name connected with the case."

"A victim, maybe," you guess, "or a cop?"

Garcia doesn't find anything on the initial search, but thankfully Spencer suggests another approach. "Guys, Foyet likes things to have meaning to him. The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led us back to him. Maybe he's doing the same thing with the alias."

Emily frowns. "Like an anagram or something?"

Spencer walks over to the white board and writes out George Foyet, before fiddling around with the spellings of possible anagrams. You walk up behind him and follow his movements along the board. "You see something, Spence?"

He shakes his head. "Not yet."

"Spencer," you interrupt as the realization comes to you, "he named himself The Reaper."

He pauses for a beat, before switching over to scrawling out possible anagrams for The Reaper instead. After a moment, he's done. "Peter Rhea."

Penelope is already searching. "There's a Peter Rhea in Arlington."

Rossi nods, a satisfied look on his face. "We found him."

***

Garcia sends out the address of an apartment in his name, and you drive over with Hotch, who doesn't say a word the whole way over. You keep glancing at him, trying to be discreet, but the tension in his posture doesn't fade, even after the breakthrough.

The apartment ends up being empty, but when you all go inside, there's a laptop sitting on the center table. Emily dials Garcia the moment you realize that the files on it are being remotely deleted, and when she hacks in, she comes across a series of surveillance photos that make you gasp out loud. "Oh my god, isn't that-"

"That's the US Marshall protecting my family." His face looks frozen with stress as he dials Marshall Kassmeyer's number. When the call goes to voicemail, Aaron stalks out of the apartment and to the SUVs parked out front. He doesn't wait for you to get in, before he's already driving off.

"Where is he going?" Emily calls out as she exits the building behind you.

"Kassmeyer's house," you say, almost certain that you're correct. With the knowledge that his family is most likely in immediate danger, there is nothing anyone could do to stop him from trying to save them. "I'm gonna follow him."

"Here," Rossi says, tossing his car keys to you. You accept them gratefully and speed off down the road.

Kassmeyer is bleeding out when you get to his house. Aaron is already inside, trying to get him to explain what happened, and when he describes how Foyet taunted him and stabbed him, you resist the urge to take Aaron's hand.

"Sam," he says suddenly, leaning over him. "I need to understand. Does he know where Jack and Haley are?"

Your heart rate skyrockets as Kassmeyer mumbles another apology. If Foyet knows where they are, you don't know if any of you will be able to get there in time.

The paramedics rush in then, and they carry Sam out to the awaiting ambulance as he refuses sedation. Aaron runs out after them and throws himself into the back of the ambulance before you can catch up.

Without any new leads, there's nowhere for you to go, so you wait out front in your SUV as you wrack your brain for where Foyet would have told Haley and Jack to go. You don't know how long it takes until another agent calls you from the hospital with the news that Marshall Kassmeyer died in surgery.

The news hits you like a ton of bricks. One more body you can attribute to The Reaper. "Is Agent Hotchner there?"

The voice is tinny over the line. "He took one of the SUVs and left a few minutes ago."

"Where?" You can hear how frantic your voice sounds, but you don't care. "Where did he go?"

"I'm not sure," the agent says. "He sped away before anyone could ask."

You hang up the phone and turn the car on, before pulling onto the street and calling the team line. Garcia picks up on the first ring.

"Sam died in surgery," you explain as you turn at the end of the street. "Hotch is already gone, but I'm gonna go to the hospital now in case someone has more info."

"Okay, honey," she says, patching in the rest of the team. When they answer, she repeats your statement, before she gets cut off. "Guys, Hotch is calling Foyet."

"Patch us in," Derek instructs over the line, before going silent. You mute yourself as well, before turning back to the road.

"Agent Hotchner."

Foyet's voice makes you nauseous, and you can practically hear the grin behind his words.

"If you touch her..." Aaron doesn't even finish the threat, but you can feel the rage within it.

"Be gentle, like I was with you?"

Your eyes prick with tears as you remember the scars that are now a permanent fixture on his body. The matching scars. The idea of Haley ending up the same way, or Jack-

"What the hell took you so long?" Foyet complains, his tone playful. "I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something."

Aaron doesn't answer him, and the anger is almost palpable over the line.

"Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated."

"I'm not frustrated," he finally responds. "You're more predictable than you think."

"Am I?"

He starts to recount the tale of Foyet's life, weaving in details that you didn't know from his childhood and the pain he was causing before he was even old enough to drive. You suppose this was what all of those late nights at the office were for. You hope they were worth it.

"That's the thing, George," he continues, his voice suddenly softer. It's like he's pleading with him. "This isn't a fairy tale. You don't have to write this story. Haven't you gotten what you wanted?"

There's silence for a few moments, and you can hear your heartbeat in your skull. Eventually Foyet comes back. "You know what I've been thinking? Haley looks pretty good with dark hair."

Your heart falls into your stomach. He has her. He already has her.

"She's lost some weight. Must be all the stress you caused her."

Just when you think that might be the worst of it, he continues. "Where's the little man? Oh. There he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?"

He has them both. You can barely see the road through the anger and fear that is coursing through your veins. Another phone rings and Foyet answers it, leaving his line with Hotch on as well. "Mrs. Hotchner. I'm here. Open the gate and I'll drive in."

You can't hear her reply, before Foyet returns to the call you're listening to. "Aaron? I really gotta go."

The call disconnects, and you can't breathe. Open the gate. The gate. What gate?

Think, think, goddamnit think.

The answer hits you like a truck. "His house. They're at his old house."

Emily whispers something that sounds like "shit" and you swerve across the lanes to make a u-turn. "I'm heading there now."

Assuming Aaron was already heading back after leaving the hospital, he would reach the house before any of you. You can only hope he'll be there in time.

Your knuckles have turned white from how hard you're gripping the steering wheel, and when Garcia patches you all in for another call from Foyet, the tears are already flowing down your cheeks.

"Aaron?"

It's Haley's voice. You gasp out loud from the relief that she's still alive.

"You're okay?" She sounds so scared, but at least she's alive. That's all you can focus on right now.

Aaron answers with a defeated sigh. "I'm fine."

"But...he said that..." The realization hits her, and she lets out a small sob. "Oh, Aaron."

"He can hear us, right?"

"Yes."

His voice is softer then, wet with tears. "I am so sorry. Haley, show him no weakness, no fear."

"I know." Of course she does. She was married to a profiler for years. She knows what all of this means, but she doesn't deserve any of it. "Sam told me all about him. Is he, uh..."

"No," he says gently. "Sam is fine."

Foyet's voice is like the hiss of a snake as it joins the call. "Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. Is that why your marriage broke up, because you're a liar?" His voice is too close to the phone. You want to scream for him to get away from her, but you're not supposed to be listening, and your car isn't moving fast enough.

"He's trying to scare you, Haley." His voice is trembling, and you can hear the tightness behind each of his words.

When Foyet mentions the deal, your stomach roils with nausea. You can picture the exact look on Aaron's face as he blames himself for this entire situation, even though it's happening to him, not because of him.

"Don't react."

Haley's voice is shaking too as she whispers, "What is he talking about?"

"Tell Jack I need him working the case."

"What?" She sounds confused, and that's when you remember the signal he told you about. The words that only Jack knows that are meant to keep him safe from situations exactly like this.

"Tell Jack I need him working the case," he repeats, his voice steadier. But all of it goes away the moment Haley hands her son the phone.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, buddy." His voice cracks and you feel your heart crack with it. The tears are rushing down your cheeks now, and you wipe them out of your eyes with the back of your hand as you get closer to the house. But not close enough.

Aaron tells him to work the case again, and he gives Haley a hug before rushing out of the room.

"He's so cute. He's like a little junior G-Man." Foyet chuckles, before yelling out. "I'll be right up, Jackie boy!"

Aaron ignores him, and you feel his focus return. "Is he gone?"

"Yes." Haley's voice is strong, and you release a single sigh of relief as you press the gas pedal down as hard as you can.

Aaron's voice returns and you can hear the anguish as he speaks. "You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was."

"You'll hurry, right?" The fear in her voice breaks your heart, and you want to assure her that you're all doing everything you can, but you're still a few streets away.

"I know you didn't sign on for this."

Neither did you.

She echoes your thoughts. "Neither did you."

His voice breaks into a sob. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh."

"Haley..."

"He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron." Her words sound so final, and you can't imagine what Foyet is pointing at her right now, but you can only hope that Aaron gets there before it's too late. "I want him to believe in love, because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him." She sounds almost resolute, and your body floods with hope for a split second. "Promise me."

His breathing is ragged as he whispers, "I promise."

Three gunshots ring out and the wheel jerks in your hand as a painful sob wrenches from your throat. No, no, no.

You race out of your car the moment you pull to a stop in front of the house. There's only one other SUV outside, and you don't give yourself a moment to think as you rush inside, lifting your gun at the last second.

The front foyer is empty, but then a jagged thumping fills the air and you dart around the corner to find Aaron beating Foyet to a pulp. You can tell from where you're standing that he's already dead, but that doesn't seem to matter to him.

"Aaron!" you yell, hoping to break his reverie. His hands are covered in blood as he pounds the man's face in, and he doesn't look up until you grab him from behind and yank his arms back. "Aaron, he's dead. He's dead."

He stops moving, and for one single second, everything is still. Then his body pitches forward and he breaks down as he sobs, his hands coming up like he's begging for the pain to go away.

You clutch him as tightly as you can, like if you hold him close enough, he won't fall apart. You can hear the voices of your teammates as they enter the house, but then his head lifts and he pulls himself up, dashing down the hall. You follow after him, rushing past Morgan and Rossi, and you realize where he's going in real time as he runs into his office and kneels down beside his desk.

Please, please, not him. Just not him. He opens the cabinet and you all share a gasp of relief as Jack's little face peeks out, his skin unmarred.

"I worked the case, Daddy. Just like you said."

Aaron reaches in and picks him up, before squeezing him tightly, his little face glancing around the room in confusion.

"You did a great job, buddy." He releases him after a few moments, before handing him off to JJ to go outside and away from the carnage littering the house. You press a kiss to his forehead before she lifts him up and walks out of the room.

Emily looks at you then, concern flashing in her eyes, but you just nod, and she follows JJ, pulling the door closed behind her.

You turn back around just in time to catch Aaron as he collapses to the floor. The weight sends you both to your knees, and he crushes you to him as you hold him as tightly as you can. His sobs mix in with your own, and you try not to let your body shake from the force of your crying, because you need to be strong for him.

He buries his face into your neck, his tears mixing with the blood on his face as it soaks your shirt and vest.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper into his hair. It doesn't feel like enough, but there's nothing else to say. "I'm so sorry."

Derek and Emily come back with the paramedics eventually to take him outside to check for injuries, and you're about to follow after them when something catches your eye. A pair of feet invade your periphery as you glance through a doorway down the hall. Oh god.

Your knees buckle and Derek catches you before you stumble forward into her room. You fall to your knees beside her, and you vaguely hear Emily whisper something behind you before there's just silence.

Her eyes are already closed, and if you really wanted to, you could try to pretend that she was just sleeping, but there's too much blood. You reach out to push her short hair back from her forehead, so that you can see her face one last time. One last time.

A sob rips out of you and you take her hand, pressing it to your lips. The scene is suddenly too much, and you close your eyes before letting out a shaky breath. You don't know what your life is going to look like without her presence. What Aaron's life with look like, or Jack's.

You squeeze her hand again before laying it on her stomach, and Emily comes forward then to help you up. Derek holds the door open as she leads you outside, and helps you tear your vest off the moment you hit the fresh afternoon air.

You bend over, hands on your knees, gulping back fresh air and trying not to throw up. Emily pats your back as you take in deep breaths, rubbing comforting circles that help to calm down your heart rate.

When you look up, you spot Aaron sitting on the edge of an ambulance. The medics are cleaning his cuts, and one of them is holding an ice pack to his head, when you walk over to survey the damage.

He doesn't look up when you approach, instead staring at his bloody hands with a look you can't discern. You can't imagine what he must be thinking right now, but if you know him at all, you know that sometimes you don't need to talk.

You reach down and take his hands, holding them in yours with a tight grip that forces him to look at you. Neither of you says anything, but it's okay, because there is nothing left to say. There will be soon, but not right now.

***

"We'll be back in a couple of hours," Jess tells you as she slings her purse over her shoulder.

You nod at her as you pick Jack off the ground and swing him up into your arms. "Take your time. We'll be hanging out here."

Aaron beckons for Jess to walk out in front of him before he dips his chin at you. "Thank you again."

"Of course," you smile, shaking your head. They're going to make the last arrangements for the funeral, and the absolute least you can do is watch Jack while they're away.

"Can we watch cartoons?" Jack asks the moment the front door shuts behind them.

"Soon, baby," you laugh lightly, before placing him on the ground and leading him to the kitchen. "We gotta make lunch first."

You throw together two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bring them to the breakfast table, where Jack is obediently scribbling away at his coloring book. "Here you go, Jack-o-lantern."

He takes a massive bite before you can sit down, but over the next ten minutes, he only manages to finish about half of the sandwich. "I'm done."

"You sure?" you ask, scrunching your face into a playful frown. "I think you got at least a couple more bites in you."

He shakes his head forcefully, before dropping the sandwich onto his plate. You know he doesn't usually eat much, but he hasn't eaten since breakfast hours ago. "Come on, hon, at least another big bite."

"No!" he yells, pushing the plate away from him. Before you can stop him, he jumps off of his chair and races out of the kitchen, towards his bedroom.

You hear the door slam shut behind him, and you heave out a sigh before clearing away both of your plates and wiping down the counter. You don't fault him for anything, you just can't believe he has to go through something like this.

He's so young. Younger than you were when you lost your mom. There's some comfort in the fact that he likely won't remember this pain when he's older, but then comes the nausea. The sickening reminder that one day he'll forget about her. Haley, his mother, your best friend's wife, your friend.

You slowly make your way to his room, knocking on the door twice before calling out his name. When he doesn't answer, you twist the knob and gently open the door. "Jack?"

He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit on the floor in front of him. He's fiddling around with a set of colorful wooden blocks, and he only looks at you once you pick one up yourself. The edges have been worn smooth from being tossed around, and you run your fingers against them as you wait for him to speak.

"Did Mommy want to leave?"

You can practically hear your heart crack in two as the block falls from your hand. Tears spring to your eyes, but you blink them back, not wanting to scare him.

"No, baby, no," you say quickly, reaching forward to rub your thumb over his cheek. "She loved you more than anything in this world."

He still doesn't look convinced, so you rest your palms on his cheeks, trying to get him to look at you. "If it was her choice, she would have never left you."

After a moment, his lips jut out into a pout, but he nods once. "Is Daddy gonna leave too?"

The tears rush forward again. You want to tell him that Aaron would never leave him, that he may be gone most nights until after Jack is asleep, and sometimes even before he's up for breakfast, but he would never leave. But you also know that Haley didn't want to either, but sometimes the job takes more than you're willing to give. "He's not going to leave you. Not if he can help it."

That seems to calm him down for the time being, so you take his hand and lead him back to the living room. Once he's situated on the couch, you switch on his cartoons for him, turning the volume down low.

He settles into the cushion next to you, his arm resting on your thigh as he focuses on the screen in front of him, while your eyes wander down to the small tv stand. They land on a framed photo of Haley and Jess together, smiling at the camera as the sun shines down on their faces, and you lift your hand to your mouth to stifle the tears that rush forward.

When your eyes pan over to the photo of you and her, with Aaron and Jess right behind you, the tears stream down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, trying to be quiet so as not to call away Jack's attention. But the cartoons are too quiet, and when a small sob escapes, Jack looks up, his brow furrowing with a look reminiscent of his father. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," you nod, forcing a smile onto your face as you look down at him and press a kiss to his temple. "I just loved your mom very much."

***

The ground is still wet from the rain. It squelches beneath your feet as Jess clutches onto your arm, letting you lead her across the cemetery for the service.

You walk behind the pallbearers as they bring Haley to the top of the open grass and set her down carefully with a reverence that brings tears to your eyes again. You don't know if your eyes have been dry at any moment today, but the tears haven't spilled over yet. It's only a matter of time.

Aaron is ahead of everyone, looking down at the small sheet of paper in his hands, with Jack by his side. The young boy looks so small in his suit, and his eyes dart around the procession with a mix of confusion and sadness that pierces your chest.

When Aaron is ready to begin, Jessica lets go and walks up to stand on his other side, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Your arm feels cold where she used to be, but it doesn't last long as another hand takes its place. You turn your head to see Spencer, one hand on his cane, and the other on your arm, as he holds you tightly to his side, his eyes brimming with tears as well. You don't expect that there's a dry eye in the crowd.

Aaron starts his speech with a quote, but the steadiness in his voice starts to waver the moment he says her name. "Haley was my best friend since we were in high school."

You remember how fiercely he loved her, even back then. The tenacity with which he pursued her when he realized that she was someone he wanted to spend his life with.

His voice continues as his eyes dip down. "We certainly had our struggles, but if there's one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son Jack." Your tears surface again, but you suck them back with a deep breath. "Haley's love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn't here today."

Aaron looks up then, and his eyes land on the casket in front of him. "A mother's love is an unrivaled force of nature. And we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life."

His hand flexes at his side, and you wish desperately that you were up there with him, holding his hand like he held yours when your mother died.

"I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her."

His voice breaks and he reaches into his pocket for the scrap of paper he was looking at earlier. "I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school's production of 'The Pirates of Penzance'. I found our copy of the play and was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed appropriate for this moment."

The quote comes back to you as he recites it, and your mind flashes back to those adolescent afternoons when you would watch him make a fool of himself trying to impress Haley at play practice. You can't help yourself as the tears finally fall, and you feel Spencer squeeze your hand tightly, acting as the lifeline you so earnestly need.

When he finishes his speech, everyone comes forward to place white roses on her casket before it is lowered into the ground. You wait as the crowd slowly dissipates, as everyone heads to the repast, and you hold Jess's hand while Aaron picks Jack up, holding him tightly.

"Blow Mommy a kiss," he whispers, before leaning over to let Jack place a rose on the casket.

His brow furrows as he straightens again, and you watch as the familiar stoicism returns to his posture. He isn't pushing all of his emotions down, exactly. He's just tucking them away, so as to be there for his son, who needs a solid figure in his life, now more than ever.

And that's what he'll be.

***

The repast is bustling with people from all eras of Haley's life, and you sit with the team at a large table, staring at your plate of food. When Dave pulls Aaron outside to talk, you watch them leave, noting the stiffness in his shoulders as he's forced to leave Jack with Jess again. She has been nothing but grateful to see her nephew more often than usual, but nonetheless, he wears his guilt like a jagged scar across his face.

Penelope clutches your hand under the table and you give her a weak nod, unable to do more with all of the energy drained from you.

"It was a beautiful service," Emily says, her eyes big and soft as they look at you.

You nod again, before turning back to your full plate. You can't bear the thought of stomaching any food right now.

Then just when you think the day can't get any worse, Derek and JJ's phones chirp with a message at the same time. No. No.

"They can't be calling us in," Emily sighs, her lips thinning, "not tonight."

JJ shakes her head. "I'm on it." She returns from her phone call a minute later with a forlorn look. "There's no other team available."

Derek gets up with a sigh. "I'll get Rossi."

When he returns with Dave, leaving Aaron alone on the deck, you squeeze Penelope's hand before walking outside. The air is cold, and you wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you approach him.

"It's okay," he says before you can open your mouth. "I'll see you when you get back."

Mind reader, you think for a split second.

He has already given you the blessing you assumed you needed when you came out here, but it still doesn't feel right. "I don't want to go."

"It's your job," he shrugs. Like it's that simple. "It's okay."

"Are you sure?" You won't be able to do your job with him here, but even less so if you're feeling guilty the whole time. "I can take time off."

"No," he says quietly, shaking his head. He looks out into the night air, and you take his hand, squeezing it between both of yours. "It'll be good for me to have some time with Jack."

You can understand that. You pull him into a hug, before dipping your chin into a nod and leaving him out there again.

***

His return to work hasn't been easy. When Strauss gave him the option to retire with full pension and benefits, it should have been an easy decision, but something was tugging at his gut, telling him that would be the wrong choice.

Now he's sitting in his office, and all of his recent life choices are swirling around him like a hurricane ready to close in. He misses Jack like he's missing a limb, and he feels terrible for how often he's been relying on Jess to take care of him, even though she readily offered her help.

His emotions are a tumbling mess, and he doesn't notice that his fingers have been tapping the edge of his desk until you enter his office.

"Coffee?" He looks up with a nod, accepting the steaming cup you hand him, before you flop down on the couch across from him. "What are you thinking about?"

He swallows back a scalding gulp that likely scorched his throat on the way down. He wants to push his emotions down and say something quippy that won't distract you for more than a few moments, but tonight he needs reassurance more than he's willing to admit. "Did I come back too early?"

He expects an immediate and bombastic denial, but you just sit there, stirring your black coffee as you tuck your legs under you. "I can't decide that for you."

It's a diplomatic answer, but he needs guidance, and he doesn't have anyone else to go to. Not that he would go to anyone else even if he did. "Do you think I'm jeopardizing the team by being here?"

This time, the answer is immediate. "Of course not. You've been doing your job effectively, and no one can say otherwise."

He pauses for a moment, ruminating over your words. He knows he's not asking the right questions. He's just delaying until he has to accept what he's feeling.

With a shaky breath, he sets his coffee down and looks at you. "Am I jeopardizing my family by being here?"

Your brows pinch. "Jack will be okay. He's young, and he'll miss you, but you're his hero, Aaron. He loves you because you keep him safe."

"But I'm never home." His voice sounds ragged to his own ears, and he's certain you can hear the pain clawing out of his throat. "How am I doing my job as a father if I'm never there?"

"Aaron," you whisper, drawing his eyes back to yours. "You're keeping him safe by catching the bad guys. He knows that. And that's what he needs." You fix him with a look that makes his back straighten. "Okay?"

After a moment, he nods. "Okay."

***

"Hi, Hales."

You sink down onto the bench in front of her headstone, before pulling the baggie of peach rings you brought from your pocket. They were the only candy you liked from your high school's vending machine, and the two of you would share them between classes during your senior year.

"I should've come sooner, but work's been really busy."

You've only visited her once since the funeral six months ago, and you wish you could've come by more, but sometimes being here is just too much. It's too stark of a reminder that she's never coming back.

You pop another peach ring in your mouth, before breaking into a grin. "Jack's growing up so fast. He's so resilient, it's amazing." He has already adjusted to living in his father's apartment full time, and he seems to like hanging out with you or Jess whenever he's stuck at work late. "I wish you could be here to see it all."

You wish for a lot of things these days. The loss seems to keep piling up, and you don't know what to do or how to feel most of the time, but time keeps passing. And with it, so does the grief.

"Aaron's starting to get better too." You don't know what you believe, but a part of you suspects she knows all of this already. "The transition back was hard on all of us, but he doesn't look as defeated all the time anymore." Your lip twitches. "He even smiles at my jokes sometimes."

You swear you hear her laughter over the rustling of the wind, but it's probably just in your head. "Anyway, I just wanted to come see you. Let you know how much we miss you."

You stand up, grabbing the bouquet from next to you, and walk over to the headstone. Without thinking, you reach into your bag of candy and drop a peach ring into the dirt. It feels juvenile, even as you're doing it, but you can't help yourself. She would find it funny. You know she would.

You tuck the rest into your pocket and walk across the grass to another row of stones. It's not a quick stroll, but it gives you enough time to take a few deep breaths before you face him again.

Jeff Adler. The letters jump out at you like flashing lights, and you blink a few times as the magnitude of your loss washes over you. So many lives, so much love and warmth gone from your life.

Bending down, you place the bouquet of carnations in front of his headstone, before kissing your fingertips and pressing them to his name.

***

"You've got to be kidding."

He just shrugs, but there's a small smile tugging at his lips. You make sure to keep your voice down as you toss your cards into the center pile and lean back against the bottom of his couch.

After putting Jack to bed, neither of you could think of anything quiet to do until Aaron pulled out a deck of cards from below the tv stand.

"I hate that you're so good at this," you grumble, watching as he deftly splits the deck and starts shuffling again. This being Go Fish.

"You're good, too," he concedes, flashing you an amused look that you don't share.

"Yeah, but you're better."

"As with most things."

You throw a card at him, but he dodges it easily. When he's finished shuffling, he deals out a card, before pausing. "We can play something else if you don't think you can beat me."

"Just deal the cards."

He lets out a low laugh and deals out another card, just as both of your cellphones chirp at the same time. You share a look before dropping the cards on the table. He stands first and gives you a hand up, which you accept.

"I'll call Jess," you whisper as he strides over to his bedroom to get his go-bag. You dial her quickly, and get the confirmation that she's coming over, before grabbing your own bag and heading out to his car.

***

"Sorry to ruin your night."

Everyone is in casual clothing when you walk into the briefing room with Aaron on your heels. JJ shoots you an apologetic look which quickly turns to surprise when Rossi walks in wearing a full tux.

"What, are you working on, wife number 4?" Derek laughs as he sets his bag down.

Dave just grumbles. "I see you people way too much."

"I hear that," you grin before taking your usual seat between Aaron and Spencer.

"Let's get started." JJ hands out the case files and clicks the screen on. "All right. Anchorage field office is asking us to investigate a series of murders in Franklin, Alaska. There's 3 people dead in less than a week."

You scan the file as fast as you can, but Spencer beats you to it. "For a town with a population of 1,476, that's fairly significant."

JJ nods. "It's their first murder investigation on record."

"Who are the victims?" Dave asks, his eyes darting back and forth between the file and the screen.

JJ looks down at her notes. "Uh, Jon Baker, a hunter. Dedaimia Swanson, a schoolteacher. Brenda Bright, the first mate on a fishing boat. There's a new victim every 2 days."

Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing, but Emily gives it a voice. "Any connections?"

"Unfortunately, in a town this small, everyone's connected."

When JJ finishes up the briefing, Aaron stands up and grabs his bag. "We'll fly out tonight. Everybody can sleep on the plane. Garcia, I need you with us."

She shoots him a confused look. "Sir?"

"I've tasked a satellite uplink and it's your job to keep us connected."

"Yes, sir."

"This town's already on the brink," he continues with a sigh, "and if this pattern continues, we've only got another day until the next murder. Let's finish this fast."

***

After barely getting any sleep on the plane ride over, and a long day in the cold, the team holes up in the lobby of a local inn, warming up around the fire.

"I'm gonna pull an all-nighter," Garcia announces when you stifle a yawn behind your fist. "I'll finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise."

"Good," Aaron nods, sitting up on the couch. "The rest of us should get some sleep, start fresh in the morning."

At his suggestion, the innkeeper steps out from behind her desk. "I've got four of the upstairs rooms available."

"Uh, 4?" Spencer squeaks, his eyes darting around the room.

"Come on," the sheriff sighs as he stands up, "that's the best we can do. Your team is double the size of my department." He glances at Aaron and they share a nod. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

The sheriff walks out of the inn and you lean back on the couch, turning your head to the side to look at Aaron. The question in your eyes is implicit. What's the plan?

"It looks like we'll have to double up," Emily answers for you, her lips stretching into a grin.

Derek speaks up immediately. "I'm not sleeping with Reid."

Penelope reaches over and grabs Derek's arm. "Dibs."

Emily and JJ stand together and head upstairs, and you glance at Aaron with a nod. "Let's find one of the double rooms before Emily snags it."

"Guess it's you and me, kid," Dave says to Spencer as you grab a key from the front desk and pick up your bag. The inn is so small that all of your rooms end up being in the same hallway. You leave the door open behind you as you step inside and toss your bag onto the nearest bed.

Aaron enters after you and locks the door, before wordlessly moving your bag to the other bed, away from the door. It takes you less than a second to realize why. His protective nature was always strong, but over the past year, it has kicked into overdrive, especially around you and Jack.

"Do you want first shower?" you ask as you unzip your bag and pull out a tee shirt and some sleep shorts.

"You take it," he says, shaking his head. The chilliness of the outside air hasn't left your bones, so you don't wait for him to change his mind before grabbing your toiletries and rushing into the bathroom.

While you're in the shower, Aaron takes his time fluffing out the comforter and pillows on his bed. The room itself isn't very spacious, but he doesn't mind sharing with you. The close quarters remind him of his youth when he would sneak into your room late at night to get away from his family. Just the sight of the lights through your bedroom window used to bring him peace. When he glances over at your side of the room, a tranquility washes over him, and he realizes that the feeling hasn't really gone away.

"Your turn," you say a little later when you emerge from the bathroom. Your skin is still slightly damp, and your cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, and he has to tear his eyes away as he nods and steps around you.

The tiny mirror in the bathroom is still steamy when he shuts the door behind him and pulls off his shirt, and he lifts his hand to wipe it off, before pausing. His scars aren't something he likes to think about often, but after saving Jack, they took on a different image in his mind. He felt less like a victim.

He rubs his hand against the mirror to wipe off some of the condensation, and his reflection looks tense as it stares back at him. Back in the room, your presence felt warm and comfortable, but in here, with the steam fogging up the glass, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air, something else roils in his gut.

It's a not-so-unfamiliar feeling that used to be commonplace when he was younger. It hadn't reared its head in years, but lately, it's been so much harder to push it down. When he sees how much his son loves you, how much he looks forward to finding you in his apartment when he gets back from a late meeting. It's been...hard.

He turns on the shower and steps in, letting the hot water wash away the notions tickling the edge of his brain. When he walks back into the room, you are tucked into your bed, the covers up to your chin.

"You look like a burrito," he notes with a small laugh.

You shrug, though it's barely visible from under the comforter. "I find this is the best way to keep out the Arctic chill that seems to have invaded our lodgings."

"Fair enough."

He slides into his own bed and clicks the switch on the wall to turn the lights off. He tries to sleep for a few minutes, but even though he's exhausted, it won't come.

It's dark enough that he can't see his fingers in front of his face, but the uneven sounds of your breathing let him know that you're still awake.

"You should really sleep," he whispers into the darkness.

"You first," you say after a moment, before your voice lowers. "How are you doing? How are you holding up, I mean."

"How are you doing?" he asks, knowing he's being unfair.

You don't let it slide this time. "You're deflecting."

"I know."

There's a pause before he finally concedes. "I think I'm okay. The normalcy is coming back, and Jack is doing a lot better, which helps immensely."

"Me too," you say after a beat.

He wants to let the subject go and try to sleep, but the words are pulling at his throat. "I miss her all the time."

"Me too," you repeat. You huff out a husky laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "God, me too."

There's a tinge of bitterness in your voice that he recognizes in himself, but it's not something he knows if he can explain. He remembers how a small part of you blamed Jeff after his death, but that's nothing like what he's feeling. He blames himself for everything but the act itself, knowing that if he had just gotten there quicker, or taken the deal, or taken the transfer-

His breath catches and he hears you rustle under your covers. He imagines you turning to face him, and as his eyes slowly adjust he sees that he was right.

"Do you remember that time in high school," he says suddenly, not entirely sure where he's going with this, "when I got detention."

"I'm gonna need you to be more specific."

He laughs, in spite of himself, and turns over to face you as well. You're so far away, but he can just barely make out your face from across the room. "When you broke me out."

Your laughter is sudden and it echoes around the small room as the memory hits you. "I do remember that. I told them your grandfather was in the hospital so that they would let you out. God, Mrs. Parker was so upset when she went to get you."

"I think my favorite part of the story was that both of my grandfathers died before I could walk."

You chuckle, your voice softer now. "I know."

His chest warms at the memory of the two of you running out to your car and driving to get a scoop of chocolate at your favorite ice cream shop. Even afterwards, you had driven around town for hours, without a complaint, and he hadn't mentioned the time once. It was so soon after his dad's death, and he hated going home for so many reasons. Sean hated him, and his mother was sad all of the time, and it was like you just knew.

"You were good at reading me," he whispers, almost to himself.

"Were good?" you ask with mock offense.

He snorts. "Fine, are good at reading me."

"That's more like it."

***

You drop your empty glass back on the table, feeling the burn of the liquor as you swallow it down. It's your second drink of the night, and while you usually don't indulge in more than one, you welcome the chance to let loose.

Everyone else seems to be in the same mindset, because JJ, Emily, and Penelope are in various states of drunkenness around the booth, and the men are either nursing a drink or driving.

"Let's dance," JJ shrieks, lifting her head off of Will's shoulder and pushing herself up from the booth.

"Hell yeah," Emily grins, pulling you and Penelope up with her.

JJ tries to corral the guys to join, but they all stay firmly seated. Dave and Will look content as they sip their whiskey, and Spencer doesn't budge, citing his leg hurting (a lie). After a bit of targeted shoving, Derek chuckles and gets up for one dance, following Penelope and JJ onto the dance floor.

"Aaaaaron," you slur, tugging his arm. He doesn't move even an inch, but the corner of his lip twitches when you don't give up.

"You used to dance in college," you point out with a frown.

Emily hoots as she saunters over to the floor. "This I need to see."

Aaron just shakes his head with a smile, and you eventually oblige, joining the ladies (and Derek) for a few dances. The dark atmosphere of the club has you feeling looser than you have in a long time, and after the next song, you join Dave over at the bar to get another drink.

You down half of it before you leave the counter, and by this point, JJ has coaxed Will out of his seat, while Spencer rushes off to find the bathroom. The tiredness hits you as soon as you finish the drink, and when you spot Aaron by himself at the booth, you glide back to keep him company.

He doesn't notice you at first as you walk over to him, and you can't help but register that he looks good in his undone button-down. You take another step forward and a thin glint of metal around his neck becomes visible. A jolt of heat shoots down your body and you set your glass down on a nearby table without looking as you approach him.

When you reach the edge of the bench, someone walking by bumps into you and you stumble forward. Aaron grabs onto you as you fall forward, and you end up crushed in his arms, your face just inches from his. Your thoughts cut out and you don't make a sound, your breaths coming out in quick spurts.

Neither one of you moves as you look at each other, so so close, so much closer than you've ever been, than you've ever gotten to be. The faintest impression of a thought - the thought - crosses the deepest edges of your mind as you lean in infinitesimally. He doesn't notice, and you barely register it either, but you can't help but notice how easy it would be to just close the gap and kiss him.

Kiss him?

Your brain short-circuits and you just barely manage to keep your eyes from widening. You have no idea where that came from, but then again, if you are honest with yourself, it has always been there, buried deep down beneath years of friendship and history.

The question invades your brain again, and this time, you're unable to stop it. What would it be like to kiss him?

You can't keep your breath from catching, and he pulls back immediately, tugging you to the side and depositing you on the booth beside him.

Your mouth falls open as you try to meet his eye. "Aaron-"

His head turns and he stands up, his eyes dark under the soft lighting. "I'm sorry."

Before you can get another word out, he's gone.

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pathologicalreid · 2 months

Note

Ok, first of all, I'm OBSESSED. You understand Spencer as a character SO well!

Second of all, could I maybe request a part 2 to neophyte? Maybe where reader wakes up in the middle of the night from nightmares (seeing all the faces of those she killed, all the faces of those she couldn't save, or whatever else tickles your fancy) and reaches our to Spencer?

sympathy for the devil | S.R.

previously

Following your previous talk, a bad case leads to you taking Reid up on his offer to help.

who? spencer reid x platonic!BAU!reader category: angst content warnings: anxiety, exhaustion, nightmares, gore (cm), general cm violence, suicide word count: 1.71k a/n: do you remember that episode after m*eve dies where spencer tried to talk that guy out of offing himself? that's where i got the idea for this from. thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy it!

At the shot of the gun, you launched into a sitting position. Placing your hand over your heart as if it would slow the pounding, you inhaled deeply through your nose.

Using the heels of your palms, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and groaned. That nightmare made three tonight alone, always the same, always Josh Quinn. Sighing, you pulled your loose t-shirt off of where it stuck to your clammy skin and got out of bed, walking into the kitchen to acquire a glass of water.

The team had started to notice your exhaustion. Just yesterday, Rossi had taken you for a coffee trip and tried to talk to you about it, but you just told him you were figuring it out. JJ tried to get you to go to a boxing class with her, but you could barely drag yourself out of bed for work, let alone to get your ass kicked.

You tried flipping through your scrapbook. When Spencer told you he hung the photos of people he had saved and victims above his bed, you decided to make a scrapbook.

But you didn’t save Josh Quinn, he killed himself. Blew his brains out right in front of you because you failed. You failed to talk him down off of that metaphorical ledge, and he killed himself.

Months ago, you talked to Spencer about how you had begun doubting your ability to do the job, and he convinced you otherwise. You wondered if he still thought the same. He was the only member of the team who hadn’t reached out to you, so you doubted that.

You swirled your water in the glass and sighed, it was three in the morning, and you had gotten approximately two hours of sleep. Assuming the team didn’t get called out to a case, you should be able to make it through the workday, but it had been almost two weeks since you traveled. You were pushing your luck.

Grabbing your phone off of the charger, you wandered to sit down on the couch. You scrolled through texts. Your mother, whom you had been neglecting to call back, was concerned. She threatened to call your boss, but she didn’t have Emily’s number.

For a split second, your thumb hovered over Spencer’s contact. You remembered what he had told you, ‘If you ever need help processing the job, or anything else, you can call.’

People said things all the time that they didn’t mean, but you were desperate, so you pressed the call button. On the first ring, you panicked and hung up. What were you thinking? It was three in the morning; you’d wake him up.

Dropping your phone in your lap, you set your face in your hands. You felt like you were finally losing it.

And then your phone started buzzing. Furrowing your brows, you looked at the screen to see that Reid was calling you back. Now it would be rude for you to not answer, so you swiped your thumb across the screen and brought your phone to your ear. “Hi,” you said meekly.

“Hey,” he responded, “What’s wrong?”

Your shoulders drooped, “There’s nothing wrong, I’m fine.”

He cleared his throat on the other end of the line, “You’re calling me at three fifteen in the morning. There’s something wrong, Y/N.”

Scowling, you pulled your feet up so that they were tucked underneath yourself. “I’m really sorry for waking you, Reid.”

“I wasn’t asleep. I was reading, had no idea what time it was,” he said to you. You weren’t sure if he was telling you the truth, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. “Are you alright?”

You closed your eyes tightly, “Yes,” you choked out the lie. “I’m fine.”

The other end of the call was quiet for so long that you checked to see if the call had dropped. “Hang on, I’m coming over,” he said.

“Uh, no, please don’t do that,” You spoke urgently.

There was a jingling that came through the phone, probably car keys, “Something is blatantly wrong, and you aren’t telling me what it is. If I’m there in person, you might be more willing to talk to me.”

Or maybe you’d feel forced to talk to him. You bit your tongue, “Okay, Spencer.”

Fifteen minutes later, there was a gentle knock on your door. You coaxed yourself off of the couch and to the door, opening it and crossing your arms in front of your chest self-consciously.

Wordlessly, you opened the door wider, effectively inviting Spencer in. He was dressed similarly to you, in a plain t-shirt and pajama pants. His glasses were donned upon his nose, you had forgotten he even wore glasses. Once he was inside, you shut the door behind him, and he set his things on the entryway table.

Matching your closed-off stance, he looked at you suspiciously, “What is going on with you?” He asked.

You had wholly expected his tone to be accusatory, but instead, it dripped with concern. Concern for you. Your face fell, “I don’t know,” you whispered. “I don’t know,” you said a little louder that time.

“When did it start?” He asked, gently ushering you over to your couch, he had you sit down before sitting in the armchair across from you.

Shrugging, you absentmindedly picked at the skin surrounding your nails. “Josh Quinn,” you muttered.

Slowly, realization dawned on Spencer’s features. “That wasn’t your fault,” he told you sincerely. “Are you listening to me?”

You nodded softly, “I couldn’t save him,” you rasped, your face crumpling as you did. The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Reid, and yet, there you were. “I tried; I thought that if I could just make him see what I saw that… He was only seventeen.” He had killed three of his classmates, but he didn’t need prison or to die. He was a kid, he needed someone to hug him and tell him it would be okay.

“Do you trust me?” Spencer asked.

The question threw you for a moment. “Of course,” you trusted Spencer. You trusted the entire team with your life. You couldn’t be a team without that kind of trust.

His mouth tightened for a moment, “Then trust me when I tell you that no one could have talked him out of killing himself.” You weren’t sure you had ever seen Spencer so serious.

You leaned back, letting your body meld into your couch cushions, “You could have.”

Spencer shook his head, “No, Y/N. I heard everything you told him. You did everything right; I would’ve said the exact same things.” His eyes studied your body language for a moment, “Once a person makes that decision, there is a point of no return. Quinn made that decision, and there was nothing you could’ve done or said to change his mind.”

Trying to understand what he was telling you, you nodded softly. “I killed him,” you murmured.

“No, you didn’t,” Spencer corrected you immediately, leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees.

Your brows narrowed, “I might as well have. He might still be alive if I had done something different.” Pulling your knees to your chest, you took a shaky breath.

Following him with your eyes as he moved, Spencer sat next to you on the couch. “Did you pull the trigger?”

“No, but-“ you started.

“Then there’s nothing else to it. You didn’t kill him. His blood is not on your hands, do you understand me?” He said sternly.

Begrudgingly, you nodded in response. “I don’t know what to do,” you whispered helplessly. “I see him when I sleep, his brain all over the walls. It’s…” you faltered, “it’s haunting me.”

Spencer gave you a moment before responding, “Your ability to feel so much sympathy toward people like Quinn is what makes you such a great agent – a great profiler” He told you earnestly.

You shrugged, “The firearm’s instructor at the academy told me that my sympathy would get me killed in the field.”

“Well, if the firearm’s instructor at the academy hasn’t changed in the last fourteen years, then he’s an ass,” he told you.

A small laugh escaped your lips, surprising you as much as it did Spencer. “I’m glad that’s a universal experience,” you responded as the silence between you shifted from awkward to comfortable. “Thanks for coming,” you whispered.

Spencer smiled at you, “You’re welcome, but why did you take so long to call?” He inquired.

“What do you mean?” You asked, leaning forward, and resting your chin on your knees.

He sighed, “That case was almost two weeks ago, Y/N. If you haven’t been sleeping for two weeks, that’s a problem. Why didn’t you call?” He repeated quizzically.

Shrinking back into yourself, you frowned, “I was embarrassed and tired. I wanted to try to figure it out on my own before I went to someone else.”

“You’re not alone, you know?” Spencer said, his voice was gentle like you were a wild animal that he was trying not to spook. “Wait, you do know we’re friends, right?” He asked, “We aren’t just coworkers, we’re friends. Everyone in the BAU is your friend, whether you like it or not.”

Turning to face him, “I know we’re friends, Spencer. Coworkers don’t just show up at each other’s apartments because one of them is having a hard time.” Maybe you didn’t realize how good of friends, but it certainly brought you some semblance of comfort to know that you had people in your corner.

You watched as Spencer pulled out his phone, his fingers nimbly typing on the keypad of his artifact of a phone.

“What are you doing?” You asked, being nosy and trying to read what he was typing out.

He kept typing, tilting the screen away from your view, “I’m telling Emily that you’re sick and taking the day off.”

Your lips parted in surprise, “Spencer!” You reached out for his phone, but he lifted it over his head, having already sent the text. “Do you have younger siblings?” You asked.

Spencer shook his head, “No, only child. Why?”

“Because you act a lot like an older brother,” you grumbled.

previously

please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x platonic!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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kiarastromboli · 2 months

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: Stalking (kind of), Jaelous!Matt.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Matt begins to enter a completely new feeling of which he is clearly not aware: obsession. Wanting to see y/n again in the hope of asking for her number, he will find himself facing something that he won't like, another man who is a little too close to y/n for his liking.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: Translated into English: Things are evolving gradually, it's only the beginning, and I promise you many emotionally charged events and sensations in the upcoming chapters. In the meantime, feel free to let me know what you think of the new character in the comments.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝟑

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐:

Friday, generally a day I don't particularly fancy, the day preceding Saturday aka the only day I finish work early.

But this Friday was different.

This Friday had a whole new flavor.

This morning, instead of my usual migraine and dark circles, I woke up in a good mood with a big smile.

Whereas usually I would settle for just a simple coffee before leaving my apartment, I prepared myself a proper breakfast.

Well, by proper breakfast I mean what I'm capable of: bacon and eggs.

Without me noticing, this smile had been stuck on my face since I woke up, and I only became aware of it when I stood in front of my mirror to brush my teeth.

For a moment, I even thought I was dreaming, but no, this smile was very real and genuinely sincere.

All because I knew I was going to see her again tomorrow.

Her, my complex mystery, my vanilla-scented puzzle.

I lived only to decipher her and to know what her thoughts were made of.

It's true, until now, no one had ever captured my attention as much as this girl, she was made for me to unravel.

After getting ready, I went to the bookstore, praying for my day to pass as quickly as possible.

Every time the little bells at the entrance rang, deep down I hoped it was her who crossed the threshold of that door to come see me.

But of course, it was never her.

"Who are you and what have you done with Matt!" Sarah said to me, pointing at me with a banana as if it were a gun.

I chuckled at her action.

Sarah was the only friend I had made while working at the bookstore until now.

I had suspicions about her intentions towards me, and over time, I quickly realized that she had developed a crush on me, but as I said, until now, no girl had really captured my attention.

I'm not saying Sarah isn't pleasant to look at, far from it, she just wasn't my type even though I appreciated her a lot.

"I advise you to put that banana down right away, miss," I said, chuckling, and she raised her hands and dropped her banana.

"Sorry, I didn't know threatening others with my breakfast was forbidden," she said, shrugging before leaning on the counter next to me, and I simply shook my head, smiling at her antics.

"No, but seriously, usually I have to fight with you to even get a hint of a smile on your face!" she said, giving me a playful punch on the shoulder.

"You're exaggerating," I said, rolling my eyes.

She looked at me with insistence.

"What?" I said, chuckling, and started walking towards the shelves to put away the books that were missing.

"What's happened to you? Come on, tell me, I share all my adventures with you, you're not allowed to keep secrets from me like this!" she said, grumbling and following me around the bookstore.

"Sarah, I really have no idea what you're talking about, you seem like a crazy person right now," I said, continuing to organize the books.

"You're kidding me! Since you walked into the bookstore, you've been humming little songs, you're nice to the customers, and you have that damn smile plastered on your face, you're hiding something from me, and believe me, Matthew, I'll find out!" she said, pointing at me with a threatening look.

"I don't know who you're trying to scare right now, but there are customers at the counter, so I suggest you quickly go see what they want before you get fired," I pointed out, removing her finger from in front of me with my hand.

She turned around in surprise towards the counter to see what I had just said, and turned back to me one last time with a threatening look before returning to work.

The rest of my day consisted of Sarah constantly asking me questions and customers coming in to return their books.

It sounds annoying when put like that, but nothing could ruin my day knowing that I was going to see her again tomorrow...

Come to think of it, I didn't even ask for her number.

What if she forgot about tomorrow? I have absolutely no way to contact her.

Maybe I should stop by after work just to ask for her number, nothing more.

"Can you close the bookstore today? I have something important to do, if you don't mind," I asked Sarah when closing time finally arrived.

"Yeah, no problem, I'll take care of it. You can go, handsome," she said, smiling, and I smiled back before leaving the bookstore.

I immediately got on my motorcycle and started driving towards her apartment complex.

Is this a good idea? I mean, I'll look like a creepy guy if she sees me showing up like this at her place when we just met yesterday?

Plus, I don't even know which apartment she lives in.

Am I supposed to wait outside hoping she'll eventually come out? I wondered as I parked my motorcycle outside her apartment complex.

I stood there for a few minutes like an idiot before realizing that this was a bad idea. I put my helmet back on, and before I could get back on my motorcycle, that's when I saw her coming out.

I watched her from afar, making sure she didn't see me. I didn't want her to think I was following her; that would be too weird.

She was wearing a completely different outfit this time.

Leggings that hugged her body really well, maybe even too well, and some sort of tight sports jacket that accentuated her chest.

An all-black ensemble, probably for working out.

I knew she was beautiful, but I didn't expect her to have such a perfect goddess-like body. That thin layer of fabric covering her body only fueled my imagination of what she looks like without all those clothes.

No, Matt, stop, that's inappropriate. I really need to learn to control myself; this girl brings out aspects of my personality that I didn't even know existed.

She stood there for a moment, staring at her phone as if she was waiting for something.

Maybe this was my moment, the perfect opportunity to go up to her and ask for her number.

I could make her believe that I just happened to be passing by and that it was a coincidence that we crossed paths here?

No, that's stupid. Why on earth would I hang around here in front of her apartment complex after work? It doesn't make any sense; she'll immediately know that I came here to see her.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I saw her greet a guy, he was tall, brunette, and quite muscular.

Who the fuck is this guy now?

They seemed close; she hugged him, and her body language changed the moment he arrived.

Does she like him?

Come on, y/n, you're not going to fall for this musclehead. I'm sure this guy doesn't even know the difference between a thriller and a horror novel. You deserve better than that, you deserve me.

I watched them from afar, wishing I could be closer to hear what they were saying.

Meanwhile, she seemed to be smiling at every word he said. Is that really your type of guy, y/n? And what about us? It started so well; I can't let him ruin our story. I have to do something.

They started walking, and I panicked.

What do I do? Do I follow them? Damn it.

Without further thought, I took off my helmet and followed them from a distance.

They walked for about fifteen minutes before stopping in front of what seemed to be a gym.

Interesting, but I don't understand the need for such large windows for a supposed gym.

It seems more like a place for egotistical people who want to show passersby that they have a better lifestyle.

Is that really what you aspire to, y/n? It can't be your kind of thing; I refuse to believe you're one of those self-centered people. You're far too kind and humble for that.

It's probably that big lump of muscle who brought you here, yet another sign that he's not right for you. He doesn't even know you; it's ridiculous.

I stayed there, sitting on a bench on the other side of the street, trying not to attract attention.

I watched them participate in what seemed to be a partner yoga class, and of course, she paired up with him.

I couldn't help but feel this growing hatred towards him; it should have been me in his place.

It should have been me supporting her legs during certain exercises, it should have been me she was talking to about her day or whatever else, it should have been my hands on her body right now. Fuck.

It displeased me to see that, but for some reason I couldn't help but watch them.

I need to learn more about this guy's intentions regarding my y/n. Who's to say he's not some completely crazy guy planning to hurt her or even use her?

When their yoga class came to an end, I quickly got up to reach my bike before they noticed me.

But unfortunately, while crossing the street, y/n must have seen me because I heard her from afar calling my name.

"Shit," I whispered to myself, stopping in my tracks before turning around to see her running towards me.

"Hey!" she said, a little out of breath as she reached me.

"Hi," I said, smiling nervously.

"I didn't expect to see you here, what are you doing here, are you following me or something?" she said, laughing.

Fuck, what am I going to say to her?

Before I could say anything, she started talking again.

"No, I'm kidding," she said, laughing and giving me a playful shove on the shoulder.

I nervously chuckled.

"You're coming back from exercising, I see," I said, trying not to appear too suspicious.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm all sweaty because of yoga, who would have thought!" she began, still laughing.

If only she knew how much her laughter is like music to my ears; this woman is simply radiant.

"Anyway, it was my first time there; it's my friend Caleb who got me into it," she said, pointing to him before gesturing for him to join us.

No, please y/n, don't make him come over here.

"Hey!" he said, with a smirk, as he reached us.

I simply nodded in greeting.

"Caleb, let me introduce you to Matt, my friend from the bookstore, remember I talked to you about him," she said.

She talked to him about me? So, she also thought about me in the meantime. I knew there was something between us.

"And Matt, let me introduce you to Caleb; he's a good friend of mine from middle school," she said this time, smiling.

"Oh, cool, that's nice," I replied with a weak smile.

"Yeah, but she wasn't this tall back in middle school; I remember we used to call her 'mini monster,'" Caleb said, laughing.

"Hey, stop!" she said, laughing and pushing him.

"Anyway, are you planning to get into sports too, man? You could really use it," he said arrogantly.

"Caleb," y/n said, giving him a more serious look this time.

"What? I'm just asking," he shrugged.

"No, I didn't come here to do sports, actually; I just happened to be around; I needed to buy something for my bike, man," I said, emphasizing the word "man" ironically.

And his expression quickly changed; he understood at that moment that I wasn't the kind of person to be walked all over, and it probably didn't sit well with him because he knew he had real competition now.

"Okay! Great, Caleb, we'll see each other later this week as usual," y/n said, cutting us off from our staring contest.

"Yeah, see you later this week, as usual," he said, not taking his eyes off me before turning around and leaving.

y/n and I started walking in the opposite direction.

"I'm sorry about that; it's just..." she paused to sigh, "I swear he's not an asshole; he's really great once you get to know him," she said, biting her lip.

And you're the type to see the good in everyone, aren't you? But do you have any flaws, y/n?

"No worries, it's nothing," I said, smiling.

"Didn't you find what you needed?" she asked me.

"What?" I asked, looking confused.

"For your bike, you said you came to get something for your bike, but your hands are empty," she said, laughing.

"Oh, uh, no, I didn't find what I needed, but it's not a big deal; at least I got to run into a good friend," I said, smiling.

"Are you talking about Caleb?" she said, laughing.

"Okay, yeah, keep teasing me; you're really not funny at all," I said, rolling my eyes, and she continued to laugh.

Unintentionally, I let out a small chuckle seeing her bent over laughing.

"But you're laughing right now," she said, pointing at me and raising her eyebrows.

"No, not at all," I said, shaking my head.

"Yes, yes, yes, look at you, you're holding back; I know you're dying to laugh, come on, let it all out," she said, grabbing both my arms and laughing.

"Y/n, if I may say so, you're completely crazy," I said, laughing along.

"Hey, I won't allow that," she said, pretending to be offended.

We continued chatting about this and that until we reached her place.

"Um, but I said I'd walk you back to your bike; I don't mind walking a bit more," she said when I stopped in front of her apartment complex.

"Oh no, don't worry, I'm parked nearby," I said, smiling.

"Oh... so this is where our little walk ends?" she said again in that softer tone.

Why is she doing this? Why is she changing her tone like that? It makes me want to kiss her. Is that what she wants me to do?

"Unfortunately, yes," I told her, looking into her eyes.

"Well, luckily we're seeing each other again tomorrow then," she said, smiling, and I smiled foolishly in return.

"Not that I enjoy spending time with you, don't get me wrong; I just really like motorcycle rides," she said in a haughty tone, laughing.

"Yeah, that must be it," I said, shaking my head.

"I also really like bikers, well, one in particular," she said, looking at me, and I felt the stress building up.

I felt like an idiot in front of her; she was clearly making advances, and I didn't even know how to respond, even though that's what I wanted the most.

"I forgot to ask for your number last time; do you think it's too late to ask for it now?" I said nervously.

"It's never too late for anything, Matt," she said, smiling before taking out her phone.

We exchanged numbers, laughing like teenagers.

"Well, I think I should head back; I'm still covered in sweat, and I'm dying to take a shower," she said, laughing.

"I won't keep you any longer then," I said, smiling.

We looked at each other for a moment without saying anything before she decided to break the silence.

"Bye, Matt," she said, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek.

"Bye, y/n," I replied, dying to kiss her.

She turned around and went back home.

I stood frozen there and ran my hand over the cheek she had just kissed.

Her lips so soft against my skin.

I won't let anything come between us, y/n, know that from today you're mine, and I'll do everything in my power to have you.

Even if it means removing Caleb from the equation...

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

Taglist: @mayhem-72 @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @bernardenjoyer @whicked-hazlatwhore @nicksmainbitch @vickyzloserz

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #smut #beyond reason

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jaskierx · 6 months

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so there's been a lot of posting about things like ofmd not being a 'kind show' and no longer being 'the queer joy show' etc etc and. i just want to remind us of where everybody is in s1's finale vs s2's

let us begin

stede: stede ends s1 on a hopeful note (setting off to go get his man) but shortly prior to that he's kind of been through it (he nearly got executed and then two different people tried to murder him). stede ends s2 on an even more hopeful note, having got his man, ready to open an inn with him. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

ed: ed ends s1 in absolute despair. izzy has been a real dick to ed (depending on your interpretation, he's done something ranging from being a little tiny bit mean to ed to calling him a slur and threatening to kill him, but we're not having this discourse again) so now he's back in his blackbeard persona mere days after feeling some hope that he was finally free from piracy and ready to run away with someone who loves him for who he is. the last shot we see of s1 ed is him absolutely crying his eyes out in the bed nook. it inflicts d4 psychic damage on me whenever i look at it. anyway at the end of s2 he's been on an absolute journey, he's learned that he's loved, he's free from being blackbeard, he's stood beside the man that loves him and they're going to give everything a go. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

stede's crew: i mean. what is there to say. at the end of s1 they've just been marooned and social order on their little island is rapidly breaking down due to buttons and roach teaming up to try and eat the swede. at the end of s2 they're happily back at sea and the swede has spanish jackie to fight off anyone who would even consider having a nibble. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

honourable mention - buttons: ends s1 unsuccessfully trying to eat the swede. ends s2 having fulfilled his life's dream of becoming a bird. good job buttons. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

ed's crew: as above, the crew end s2 happily sailing away into the literal sunset. we finish s1 with jim presumably unconscious and izzy pointing a gun at frenchie. so not an ideal situation really. fang seems to be having a good time though and ivan gets killed off between seasons (rip king) so it averages out at a slightly better rather than a significantly better. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

honourable mention - frenchie: ends s1 hoisting his flag at gunpoint. ends s2 captaining the bloody ship. go frenchie. we love to see it. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

lucius: ends s1 soggy. ends s2 not only dry, but married. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

izzy: ah yes this old chestnut. so. two perspectives here. one is simply that he ends s1 alive and ends s2 dead. so. possible verdict: significantly worse off at the end of s2. alternatively, he ends s1 as his classic repressed self, smiling from ear to ear because ed cut his toe off and it sparked joy, disliked by the crew, resented by ed. he ends s2 having accepted himself and having experienced all the queer joy he would never have permitted himself in s1, having experienced more screentime and growth than any other secondary character in s2 (yes he's a secondary character no i won't argue with you about this), and dies exactly as he lived - being a pirate who can pull off a plan. he gets to have his deathbed deep and meaningful conversation with ed, which brings closure to them both. he gets buried beside ed and stede's new inn, on land where his grave will be tended, having been given a nice funeral by people who once despised him. so. possible verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2. he definitely seemed happier in s2, and died at peace rather than as a frothing little ball of anger, which is more than i could've foreseen in s1.

anyway. the eagle eyed mathematicians among you will notice that even if we take it as read that izzy is significantly worse off at the end of s2...

every single other character ends s2 in a better place than where they ended s1.

ofmd is a kind show that's full to the brim of queer joy. you guys are just sad that your fave died. and that's fine. the writers did a great job creating a story with characters that were so well written that people are genuinely grieving izzy's death.

but his death does not erase the inherent kindness and joy of the rest of the show.

anyway thanks for reading. i had fun playing with the tumblr post editor settings. by which i mean changing the text colour was unreasonably difficult and now i am stressed

#ofmd #izzy hands #the izcourse #lyse.jpg

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auroravictorium · 1 year

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high infidelity (pt. 2) (k.b.)

do i really have to chart the constellations in her eyes?

Summary: the crows arrive to help reader, and kaz finally gets his revenge. once reader is in safe hands, kaz is forced to make a decision on where to take her to heal.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: LOTS of blood and violence (stabbing, vague description of gutting someone), death of non-canon character(s), use of guns, shooting, lots of pain, shrapnel

Genre: angst and action

Author's Note: again, PLEASE read the warnings if you haven't! here is part two of high infidelity, told from kaz's pov :)) enjoy!

part one

Kaz marched down the final row of warehouses, his expression stormy and eyes dark with fury. His leg throbbed from all the walking, but he pressed on with a soldier's determination. He was treating this like any other job, trying as hard as he could to not let his growing panic show. But it swelled to his ankles like he was wading through the cold sea despite his attempts to ignore it. It threatened to slow his steps, and a rough wave tried to crush his chest every now and then when they found yet another empty warehouse.

Each abandoned building broke the dam holding back his emotions a little more. Kaz felt himself swimming away from the shore, plunging into the water's depths. He couldn't help but wonder if you were still in Kerch. Had the Crows come too late? Had Inej's fears of the mercenaries passing you to slavers come true?

Is she still alive? Will I find her as a corpse?

The questions, persistent and growing louder in his mind, sent a shudder down his spine that he tried to hide with his quick pace.

His sleep in the past near-week was restless. His recent nightmares hadn't contained bodies with Jordie's face. They'd all been you, beaten and bruised and twisted into odd angles. Each dream was a taunt, a condemnation of Kaz's failure thus far to find you, and a nauseating mix of every fear he'd ever had.

Kaz had to stop walking as last night's dream came to mind. You, black and blue and broken, while Kaz was powerless to stop it. His shoulder slammed into the brick wall of a building, jolting him out of his thoughts before his dream self could scream, and Kaz lowered his head as he fought against his traitorous lungs. His fingers tightened around the crow's head of his cane, letting the detailed metal grooves dig into his palm through his glove. He fought to breathe past the lump growing in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the grimy, empty avenue of warehouses.

Shit, Brekker. What is wrong with you?

It was the first time he'd admitted that to himself since Kaz Brekker emerged from the harbor ten years ago. Since then, he'd never allowed himself any moment of weakness. He couldn't; weakness was for children, people who hoped, who dared to dream of good things. His weakness killed his brother. If Kaz couldn't pull himself together, it would kill you too.

"Boss-," Jesper began, stepping beside Kaz and peering at his face. Jes opened his mouth to tell Kaz they would find her, that they had to be getting close. A finite number of warehouses sat on the street, and the Crows would find Pekka and the mercenaries if they were there. And if they weren't, they would track them down.

A loud scream echoed down the street, cutting Jesper off and making him turn his head toward the sound.

It was a scream of pure agony, the kind that made the heart feel like it might split in two, made legs feel like they may collapse, made horror choke the air from your lungs and hold it captive. It was a sound and a feeling Kaz had experienced only once, as a blade pierced your chest nine months ago.

It was a sound Kaz wished he would never have to hear again.

Kaz unhitched himself from the wall and ran toward the sound. He forgot about the pain in his leg, his panic, his worry that they'd never find you. He didn't even register Inej, Jesper, and Nina sprinting behind him, their shoes pounding against the cobbled ground. All Kaz could think about was you, your wail of agony, his desperation to get to you.

He skidded to a stop outside the warehouse, finding a set of double doors with a padlock and chains looped through the handles. "Sons of-" Kaz snarled, raising his cane as if he meant to swing it downward. It wouldn't do anything, but he didn't care. His worry had yielded to white-hot fury that muddled his mind and made him think only of the vengeance he was about to inflict. It burned beneath his skin, anger red as the blood rushing in his ears and muffling his hearing.

A hand interrupted the swing, catching the cane's head and gently pushing it down. "Move," Jesper said. He slipped between Kaz and the door as the former moved away, seething. Jes pressed his hands to the lock and warped it until it fell to the ground, deformed and useless. He ripped the chains from the handles and dropped them next to the hunk of metal before pulling his pistols from their holsters.

"What do you want us to do, Brekker?" Nina murmured, reaching out to feel for the heartbeats of those inside. One was irregular, accented by the fast, shallow breathing of panic and pain. "Four of them, and Y/N."

"I take Pekka. You three kill the mercenaries and get to Y/N." Kaz slipped a phosphorous bomb from his coat pocket and weighed it in his hand. His gaze was fixed on the door, filled with rage cold enough to freeze over the True Sea. "No mourners."

"No funerals," Jesper grunted. "Let's kill these bastards." He kicked the door open and moved inside, twirling his guns in his fingers. His eyes fought to adjust to the dim lighting, straining through the cloudy darkness, and Jesper blinked furiously to clear his vision. He spotted Y/N across the room, clearly injured and ill but alive, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he aimed his pistols at the four figures gathered around a table.

Kaz threw his smoke bomb down and made a beeline for Pekka Rollins as the air filled with smoke. Pistols fired and metal scraped against metal; the sound echoed off the warehouse walls, accented by the sound of the Crows and mercenaries launching at each other. Someone hit the ground with a loud groan that lapsed into silence; Kaz could only hope it wasn't one of his Crows or, Saints forbid, you. To make it this far, only to fail, would be his breaking point.

Kaz tackled Pekka out of his chair, barely registering the clatter of a filled gun against the stone ground as it fell from Pekka's hand. Their bodies collided against the floor, skin scraping and bones groaning from the impact; Pekka grunted and rolled, trying to shove Kaz off of him and retrieve his gun.

But Kaz was already swinging, bashing his fists down again and again against any part of Pekka he could hit. His face, his throat, his chest. His punches were sloppy, his vision blurred by bright red anger and the image of Y/N bound to a support beam on replay. Blood on her skin, bruises everywhere he could see and definitely where he couldn't. The memories she would have to live with and the nightmares that would plague her.

He could hardly see through his simmering rage, and he secured his gloved hands around Pekka's throat and squeezed. Nothing would drive his anger away like the sight of Pekka's life leaving his face, light draining from his eyes as death swept over him like a heavy cloak.

Pekka seethed and grabbed Kaz's wrists, struggling to shove them away. But his grip was iron, locked in place through the sheer force of his wrath as everything Pekka had taken from him flashed before his eyes. His money. His brother. His Crows. You.

You you you you you.

Your laugh, replaced by an agonizing scream. Your smile, replaced by a grimace of pain. Your soul, too kind for the Barrel and certainly more than Kaz deserved, cracked or even shattered by whatever the mercenaries and Pekka had done to you.

Kaz's breathing came fast and hard, his teeth gritted together as he pushed as much of his weight down onto Pekka's windpipe as he could. "You killed my brother," he snarled, watching Pekka's eyes bulge and his face redden from lack of oxygen. "You hurt my Crows. You took my love. You made me think that to care was a weakness, to let someone in was a death sentence." He dug his fingertips into Pekka's throat so violently that his arms shook with the wrath he wanted to inflict. "I've let you think you're king for too long. I've let you win. But no more."

Pekka lifted his fist and slammed it into Kaz's ribs. Kaz grunted but didn't break, even as pain sparked through his chest. He forced a smile as he leaned down to get nose-to-nose with Pekka. "You'll have to do much worse, Rollins," he breathed. "You've made me immune to your tricks, and I fear you've run out of them."

He removed a hand from Pekka's throat and brought it down on Pekka's wrist, bashing his hand back to the floor as Pekka pulled the trigger on the gun he'd barely managed to reach. The bullet shot wildly into the air, flying somewhere past Kaz and shattering a window. Cold air rushed into the warehouse, nipping at the back of Kaz's neck.

Kaz wrenched the pistol from Pekka's hand, unloaded it, and slammed the butt of it down against the older man's palm in one swift movement. Bone crunched beneath the impact with a sickening, nauseating snap, and Pekka groaned. The veins of his neck bulged against Kaz's hand, and Kaz wanted to laugh. That's the least of what I want to do, old man.

"You don't know what you're getting into, boy," Pekka wheezed, bringing his unbroken hand up to try and pull Kaz's hand from his throat. He dug his nails into the skin of Kaz's wrist in the struggle, dousing Kaz in ice-cold water that soaked his clothes and froze him to his bones.

Kaz released Pekka's throat before he could stop himself, thrown off kilter by the contact. Slimy fingers. Touching. Lifeless but trying to shove his head beneath the water. Harbor filling his lungs.

Weak. That's all Kaz felt as his vengeance stood suspended in time, replaced by the simultaneous urges to vomit or inflict so much violence that even his rising panic would cower. One touch, one unsuspecting brush of fingertips against skin, and every victory he'd reached over his past was wiped away. Your pride went undeserved, and your words of encouragement crumbled to dust.

Pekka shoved Kaz to the ground and struggled to his feet, cradling his broken hand to his chest. He lifted a hand to his throat to massage the bruising skin. His tongue swiped over his cracked lips as he looked down at Kaz, clutching his cane and breathing hard as he pushed himself back to his feet.

"A damned shame you came all this way for her," Pekka rasped, dropping his hand from his throat. He unbuttoned his disheveled vest and shrugged out of it, tossing it to the side. "Now she has to watch you die, and she won't even be able to give you a rat's burial in the Harbor."

Kaz didn't give Pekka the dignity of a response, lifting his cane and lurching toward him again. He swung, and the metal crow cut through empty space as Pekka dodged and reached for Kaz to push him back toward the wall; the cane fell from Kaz's hands and rolled a few feet away. Kaz grunted as his back collided with the wall, and his head jerked to the side as Pekka punched him. Hard.

Blood filled Kaz's mouth, and his jaw seared with pain as he probed the swelling flesh of his cheek with his tongue. Despite the pain, the promise of death written in Pekka's eyes, Kaz laughed. A mirthless, mocking sound that he couldn't bring himself to cut short, even as Pekka pulled another gun from the back of his waistband and held it to Kaz's throat. But his arm was unsteady, his hand trembling with the gun there. As if he'd never held it before.

Kaz didn't so much as flinch, meeting Pekka's murderous gaze with one of his own. "Do it," he said quietly. "If you kill me now, you might have a fighting chance of getting out of here before my Crows are done with your precious mercenaries and turn their attention to you."

His gaze settled over Pekka's shoulder, landing on Jesper and Inej, fighting the tallest and most muscular of the mercenaries. His energy was waning, and Inej was gaining the upper hand as he attempted to deflect each of her swipes at him. Jesper approached from behind, pulling his rings from his fingers and molding them into sharp little spikes that flew out of his hands and straight into the mercenaries spine.

Past Inej, Jesper, and a dead mercenary with a shot through the forehead, Nina had her hands outstretched, strangling the last mercenary as he grappled with you for control over a weapon. He seized above you, unable to move, and the interruption allowed you to secure your hold and drive the dagger up into his chest. It took all of Kaz's self-control to not let any of his relief show as you shoved the mercenary off of you and knelt beside him to pull the blade from his chest.

Pekka followed Kaz's gaze, turning to look over his shoulder.

Got you, you twisted son of a bitch.

Kaz slipped a blade from his coat and slashed it across Pekka's chest. It parted his shirt and skin easily, and a dark red stain bloomed across his front. The intent was not to kill; just to surprise, buy a chance for Kaz to throw him off long enough to pull the single bullet from the cylinder. He had the bullet in his pocket before the dagger had left Pekka's skin.

Child's play.

Pekka whirled to face Kaz, a hiss of pain whistling through his teeth, and he unclicked the safety of his gun. He pried the dagger from Kaz's hand and tossed it to the ground with a clatter; his chest heaved from anger, and he jabbed the end of the gun into Kaz's throat hard enough to force a choked cough. "You're a fool, Brekker," Pekka snarled.

"Am I?" Kaz hissed back, jerking his chin toward Pekka's dwindling number of allies. Behind him, the fight was slowing; the clashing of weapons and grunting of pain had faded as the mercenaries fell at the hands of the Crows.

The final mercenary standing collapsed at Inej's feet, a slash across his throat spraying blood across the pristine stone floor. Jesper fired one of his pistols once, striking him just below the ear and silencing his cries instantly.

The mercenary at your knees twitched as death took hold, even as you cut him open from the navel to the sternum. From a few feet away, Nina was working to regulate your blood pressure, unwilling to let you die but unwilling to take your chance at revenge away from you. She would be there to catch you when you fell, as your blood pressure suddenly dropped and you teetered unsteadily, the knife slipping from your hands.

Pekka was alone, and he knew it. He would not be walking out of the warehouse. But would he die having killed Kaz Brekker, or would he die by Kaz Brekker's hand? Would Alby be proud, or would he be ashamed of his father's name?

"I once told you the trick to survival was not to love anyone," Kaz said quietly. He leaned closer, angling his head. The moonlight caught in his pale blue eyes, washing the color from them and letting Pekka see every speck of icy rage within. Kaz's bloodied lips curled into a smile before he could stop them. "I was wrong. The trick to survival is making enemies who are too foolish to check that their gun is loaded."

Pekka pulled the trigger as if he expected Kaz to be wrong. But no bullet loosed itself, no blood splattered the walls, and no sudden darkness enveloped Kaz. It was empty, the lone bullet sitting uselessly in Kaz's coat pocket. He'd been banned from every gambling hall in Ketterdam for a reason.

"You bastard," Pekka seethed. "How did you-?"

His gun suddenly exploded in his hand, crumbling into a variety of metal chunks that thumped to the floor. Some rose upward and shot toward Pekka's face, burying themselves into his skin and eyes and anywhere they could hit. Blood streamed down his face, and Pekka stumbled back, covering his eyes as he roared in pain and anger.

Kaz turned, finding Jesper with his hand outstretched. He was gasping, looking between his palm and Pekka as he hunched over and dug his fingers into his eyes as if he could pull the metal shards from them.

What the Saints did I do? Jesper thought, staring down at his fingers as power sang beneath his skin. One moment, he was thinking about Pekka's gun jamming, the next... Kaz's cane. He blinked and ducked down to grab Kaz's cane. "Finish it," Jesper said roughly, then tossed the cane to its owner. Before he could think too hard about the look of awe in Kaz's eyes, Jes turned and rushed toward Nina and Inej as they worked to start treating you.

Kaz secured his grip on his cane and jammed the end of it into Pekka's knees, toppling him to the ground. He crouched beside him, ignoring the searing pain in his leg, and tucked his cane under his arm. "I'll do you a favor," Kaz hissed, grabbing a fistful of Pekka's hair and jerking his head back. "I won't tell your precious prince how easily you fell."

He slammed Pekka's head into the ground. His nose crunched beneath the impact, and blood sprayed across the floor. Kaz pulled his head back up as Pekka panted, and silent, unheard pleas passed his lips. He tilted his head, meeting Pekka's terrified, unseeing gaze. "I won't give him the details. I'll even be merciful and make sure he doesn't end up on the streets."

Kaz could leave Alby Rollins to starve, to risk wasting away on the streets as news spread of his father's death. The Dime Lions' fortune was finite, easily spent or misallocated without a leader. Not a drop would end up with Alby; if any did, by some act of the Saints, he would be manipulated out of it before he had the chance to escape the city.

But as Kaz stared at Pekka, at the unintelligible pleas and prayers leaving his lips, he only heard your voice. He saw your wages leaving your hands, given to the very woman who had passed your name to the Dime Lions. All so she could escape Ketterdam's unforgiving violence and return to some lover, someplace safer and more secure.

It would have cost less for you to kill Amalia.

It would cost Kaz less if he didn't make this promise to Pekka before he killed him.

A lump rose in Kaz's throat as his battle against himself raged on. He didn't owe Pekka or Alby Rollins anything, and yet... He had to be close to the age Kaz had been when Jordie died. Just nine, on the cusp of ten, still hopeful that there was good in the world. It was almost poetic how the cycle of tragedies repeated itself.

"He won't end up on the streets," Kaz repeated. But his voice sounded far away to his own ears, and he hardly registered the relief flickering across Pekka's face. He was nine years old again with the firepox ravaging his body. Between one blink and the next, he would be moved from the streets to the Reaper's Barge. Then he was fourteen, breaking his leg during a bank heist. Sixteen, trailing a girl causing chaos in the wealthy side of the city and convincing her to join the Dregs. Seventeen, he was ignoring his feelings for that girl. Eighteen, he kissed her. Nineteen, he was burning Kerch to the ground to find her and killing the man who set all this into motion, good and bad, his hate and his love.

Beneath it all was one simple truth. We both are beyond saving.

But one unfortunate boy had fallen into the mix. Nine years old, his life and his father's in Kaz's hands. The same position the father had once been in, and he had made the wrong choice. Ripped Kaz's future from him with the stroke of his pen and threatened his yet unborn son's own.

Alby Rollins has a chance.

Kaz clenched his jaw and brought Pekka's head down into the stone floor with a sharp, sickening crack. Death was simple and quick, claiming Pekka Rollins between one moment and the next. It was as if he'd never existed, but the damage within the warehouse and outside of it said otherwise.

Kaz Brekker stood up and felt nothing at all, despite what had just happened. He turned and left Pekka's body behind him, limping over to his friends huddled around you. It was only when he saw the mess of bruises and blood across your skin that he realized he wasn't breathing, and his emotions flickered back to life as he knelt beside you and turned your right arm to the sky.

Horror, when he saw the damage, your tattoo slashed in half. Concern, when he saw the blood seeping from your arm despite Inej's attempts to patch it until Nina could get to it. Fear, when he saw your eyes slipping shut, your chest slowing its intake of air.

He didn't have enough space to allow his rage back in, enough air to feed its flames. All he felt was terror and the very real truth that you could die.

"Nina, her arm," Kaz said, trying to control his breathing. His lungs were speeding up without his permission, a mass of fear setting in his windpipe and threatening to choke him. "Jesper, the coach. Take Inej. Go."

Jesper rose from where he was bandaging a shallow cut on your other wrist, likely from your bindings, and Inej followed as he ran toward the warehouse doors.

Kaz dropped his cane and ripped a piece of fabric from the inner lining of his coat to start staunching the blood flowing from your arm, trying to buy Nina time as she worked on a gash on your head that Kaz hadn't noticed. He watched your eyes slip shut, and he forgot all about bandaging your cut arm.

No. You're not allowed to die.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it as if he could tether you here. With him. Long enough that he could free the hesitation and fear from his lungs and tell you exactly what he felt. How he blamed himself, how he was sorry, how he loved you, and how that love had consumed every cell of his body; how he breathed it in from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. How it soothed every wound, healed and fresh.

Kaz had to squeeze his eyes shut and look away as his breathing sped up from panic. I need you to live. "Nina," he rasped. He didn't know what he wanted to say to her. He only had words that he wished he could say to you. No room for anything, anyone else.

Not even Jordie's ghost, whom he was keenly aware of in the back of his mind.

"We need a place for the night. She won't make it back to Ketterdam." Nina's words were clipped, matter-of-fact as she traced her fingers down the deep cut down your forearm. A thin layer of skin knitted together to stop the bleeding, and Nina turned her attention back to the infection she could feel surging beneath your skin. "She needs water. Food. Rest."

Kaz nodded, a short dip of his chin. "Will she make it to Lij? Four hours from here if Jesper takes his time."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I hope the paths are clear."

The warehouse doors thudded open again, and Kaz glanced over his shoulder to find Inej gasping in the doorway as, behind her, Jesper sat atop the coach while the horses neighed and shook their manes in indignation. "C'mon!" Inej called. "Locals heard of a disturbance."

Kaz slid his arms underneath your shoulders and knees and carefully pulled you into his arms, letting Nina pick his cane up from a puddle of blood on the ground. The cold harbor nipped at his ankles and threatened to rise as he cradled you against his chest, occasionally glancing down at you as he limped out of the warehouse. Your head lulled backward, exposing the bruised skin of your throat, and Kaz had to look away, toward Inej as she pulled the coach door open and shielded your head with her hand as Kaz carefully lifted the both of you into the coach.

"Head just north of Lij," Kaz ordered, settling you on one of the plush coach seats and tugging his coat and vest off. He bunched up the vest beneath your head to act as a pillow and covered you up with his coat, bloodied side facing out. "No sightseeing."

Inej and Nina joined Kaz in the coach, and Nina carefully lifted your legs so she could sit at your feet and continue stabilizing you. Inej sat across from Nina and pulled her necklace from beneath her shirt, clutching it in her palm and turning her eyes to the sky. Meanwhile, Kaz sat in the spot across from your head and tried to avoid letting renewed sparks of rage consume him.

Outside the coach on the driver's bench, Jesper chewed on the inside of his cheek, turning his gaze firmly toward the horses before him instead of letting them linger on the puddles of blood he could see just beyond the warehouse doors.

Bruised, bloody, and seething, the Crows left Zierfoort, heading toward the town of Lij. None of them said a word the entire ride.

reader's pov (part 1)

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @marlene-the-witch, @thestudiouswanderer, @lyjen, @rideacowb0y, @weasleybuns, @dal-light, @mariatpwk, @dreammgc, @elysian-chaos, @breadbrobin, @poppyflower-22, @halfofagayallofaqueer, @battleraven, @amarokofficial, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @poppyflower-22, @madnessinwrighting, @ponyboys-sunsets, @circus-of-thoughts, @empresspenguin18, @mediocrestuff, @stonksman8, @alanis-altair, @thefandomplace, @alohastitch0626, @the-royal-paintbrush, @just-here-for-ff, @whos6claire, @jodiereedus22, @be-lla-vie, @despoinapav05, @arianyo, @willowpains, @geekmom3, @dark-academia-slut, @aeslenya, @directioner5life, @notjustsomeblonde, @osteopsycho, @travelingmypassion, @tiana76, @angelhxneyy, @princessatoru, @despoinapav05

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fangirlstorycreator · 26 days

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pretty pretty pretty please can you do a story about blitzo??!! I've just seen that you wrote for hazbin hotel and helluva boss and I love those shows! blitz is my favourite character! Let's imagine you work with him moxie and millie, but there is a spark between you both! And maybe he saves you from striker? I'm buzzing to see what you write!!! xxxxx

Blitzo! Absolutely anon! I'm so excited to write my first Helluva Boss story, I hope you enjoy 🤗💚

Contains: Swearing/Sexual content/dirty talk/sexual intercourse/kidnap/threatening language (NOT FOR MINORS!)

You had just taken another call for a job, this business was really blowing up recently, who would have thought k#lling humans in the living world was such a good career? You were the only one in the office at that moment, as Blitz, Millie, Moxie and Luna had been invited to an event in the Wrath ring, that wasn't really your kind of thing to do. You had just finished writing down the last few details of this new job, when the door bursts open and hits the wall with a loud bang. "Satan's d#ck hole! Damn it! Why is it that every time we go anywhere with that feathery f#ck, someone wants to k#ll him!" "Well, he is royalty sir" "So what Moxie? He ain't so royal when I'm d#ckin his-" "Ugghh! Blitz!" "Ooh! Sorry Loony" Luna was always wound up by something Blitz would say, I think it was just part of their father and daughter relationship, even though Luna would never admit that. "Hey sh#t tits! Anyone call in for more work while we were gone?" "Just one, someone who had a an abusive ex boyfriend, she's down in hell because she tried to kill him apparently. But, because he's still alive up there..." "She needs us! F#ck yeh! Let me read the details about this one. Moxie! When your done humping your wife's leg, go and refill the guns. We're gunna need them for this next c#ck sucker" Moxie just huffed as he and Millie went to sort out the guns, Luna was sat by the meeting table, flicking through her phone with her earphones in, and Blitz was still reading the info you wrote.

"So Blitz, you were talking about Stolas when you came back, what happened?" "Oh, that god damn royal #sshole invited us to the Wrath ring for some kind of festival. It actually wasn't that bad, I even joined in with some of the games they had, they were f#cking awesome!" "So what went wrong?" "Oh, well it turns out there was this guy down there, who I was competing against, who was trying to k#ll Stolas" "But he's royalty right? You can't k#ll royalty without-" "An angelic weapon? Yeh, turns out the f#cker has one" "Sh#t! Well, what happened then?" "He hid it from us, until Moxie found the gun. He attacked Moxie and Millie, then I came and pretty much saved the day!" "Saved the day?" "Well....yeh he got away, but! I was the one that distracted him so Moxie could get a clear shot" "Oh really? And how exactly did you do that?" "He was totally flirting with me, trying to make me join him. I just played along" "Hmmm..." "What?" "Oh come on Blitz, your telling me you didn't like it? Not even a little? Your always the dominant one when it comes to Stolas, you secretly liked him being the one in charge for a moment didn't you?" "Hey! I played along with him so Moxie could get the gun!" "Didn't answer my question though...." "Ok...fine, just for a minute. But that's all! I'm always the one who f#cks other people, not the other way around!" "Sounds like a part of you was willing to give it a try"

Blitz raises an eyebrow to you, quickly looks around to make sure Luna isn't paying attention and that Moxie and Millie aren't there. Leaning slightly on the desk, he whispers to you. "You think so huh? Well maybe I'd like to give it a try sometime...." "Blitz....are you trying to flirt with me?" "What if I am, gorgeous? You never know, it could be fun....you wanna ride on this d#ck?" Pretenting to play along with him, you reach up and gently pull him in a little closer by his collar, and lean in to whisper into his ear. His neck slightly shivers as he can feel your breath, he's loving it. "Maybe I would, Blitz........if you actualy had something decent to ride on" "What?!" He shouts as he backs away, leaving you giggling. "What the f#ck are you trying to say? I haven't got a big d#ck?! I could rock you world!" "I doubt it, I think your all talk Blitz" "Oh yeh! If Luna wasn't hear I'd bend you over this desk and f#ck you till your screams filled the god damn office" "Yeh....or my moans of boredom" "Oooh you cheeky minx-" "Hey sir! We've refilled the guns" "Huh? Oh! Right, thanks Moxie, just put them in the van would yeh?" Moxie and Millie head out to the van with Luna, and Blitz just smirks. "I know we play this flirty game a lot Y/N, but has it ever occurred to you that I might actually wanna f#ck you?" "It has, however, you know me Blitz. If you want this...you have to earn it" "Well...challenge excepted! Alright, I've gotta go, we'll go and k#ll this abusive c#ck sucker and be right back"

"No problem. Hey Blitz?" "What?" "You didn't really finish your story about the attempted assassination on Stolas" "Oh yeh! Stolas is fine, we still use the book and we assumed that guy just ran away because of how much we tried to f#ck him up" "He may still be out there, you never know. Does he live in the Wrath ring?" "I don't know, he just disappeared" "Sounds like an #sshole, what was his name anyway?" "Striker" "Striker? What was he? A cowboy?" "How the f#ck did you guess that?" "It sounds like a stupid name to give yourself if your a cowboy" "I can't say I disagree. Anyway! See you later sh#t tits!" You knew he never meant it, but that was just a stupid nickname that had stuck for you now. You just found it funny, just like him. Yes you guys did playfully flirt a lot of the time, but there were times, you could see in his eyes, he was actually turned on. Who knows what could happen between you? But that wasn't on your mind right now, because yet another call has come in. That night when they came back and finished that job, Moxie and Millie had packed their things and headed home, and you were just getting your stuff in your moterbike as Blitz pulled up beside you with Luna in the van too. "Hey sh#t tits! Good job today. Are you hungry? Me and Loony are gunna go get some burgers, wanna come?" "I'm fine thanks Blitz, I'm quite tired so I'll just have something when I get home"

"Alright, we'll see you tomorow then. You ready for some burgers Loony?!" "Uugghh, they're just burgers, no need to get so excited about it" "But there MEGA burgers! There f#cking awesome!" "Whatever" "See you Y/N!" And just like that, he sped off down the road to the burger joint in town. You could see that Blitz always tried his best with Luna, he really does care about her. Once you were ready, you got on your bike and drove towards home, but you did stop at a local bar first. You placed an order for their club sandwich and fries to go, you loved that meal, it was the best thing they did. As you were waiting by the bar, you hear the sound of jingling with footsteps coming towards you, that was strange. When you turned to look behind you, a strange guy had walked up to you and stood beside you by the bar. He had a large brown hat, yellow eyes, a white jacket with little tassels, knee high boots and a red handkerchief wrapped around his neck. Not to mention the creepy smile and the pencil thin moustache, just one look and it made you feel uneasy, whoever this was, you didn't like him straight away.

"Hey there little darlin.....what's your name?" "Not interested" He had a thick accent, like a cowboys western voice. "Hey now, there's no need to get like that. How about I buy you a drink?" "No" "Are you sure?" "No is a full sentence #sshole!" "Woh woh there, I was only tryin to be polite. Why are you gettin all defensive" "Because when a woman says no, that's all she has to say. Now get away from me you creep" He just huffs, running his thumb over his bottom lips as he watches you. "I like a woman with a little bite"

"This is your final warning d#ck head, f#ck off!" "Fine....but let me leave you with this" He slides a card to your fingers, with his number on it. "Call me if you change your mind....and by the way, what name was given to a beauty such as yourself?" "F#ck off" "Well....the names Striker....see you later little darlin..." Striker? Oh sh#t! THE striker? He walks away as you just figure that out, you now know who he was, what he looks like, and that he didn't just disappear like Blitz had said! You needed to tell Blitz! The next morning, you made your way to work and see Moxie, Millie and Luna all doing their own thing. "Millie?" "Yeh?" "Have you seen Blitz?" "Yeh, he's in his office" "Thanks" You walk to the far end of the hall and knock on the door "Blitz?" "Y/N! Is it just you?" "Uh yeh, why?" "Just wondering! Come in!" As you open the door, you see Blitz's desk infront of you, but he wasn't sat behind it. "Blitz? Where-" All of a sudden, you feel hands grip your waistline, spin you around and pin you against the wall. It's Blitz! And he has a deep s#xual hunger in his eyes. "Hey there..." "Blitz, this really isn't the time, I need to-" Placing his finger to your lips, he shooshs you and whispers. "Oh yeh? Well I think it's the perfect time for me to show you exactly what I'd like to do to you..." He says in his most seductive tone. "I've imagined pinning you up against this office wall, pounding your brains out as I-" "Blitz! While this is a lovely suprise, I really need to talk to you!" "Huh? About what?" "Striker!" "Striker? What about him?" "I've seen him! Last night!" "What?! Well why the f#ck didn't you lead with that?"

"Well maybe if I was allowed to actualy say anything as you were trying to f#ck me up against a wall!" "I thought you wanted this?!" "Not right now! I need to talk to you about Striker!" "Shit, Striker. Ok, what happened?" You sit him down and explain what happened last night, and the card with his number on it. "That mother f#cker! He hit on you!" "Your honestly focused on that part Blitz?!" "Well duh! What else should I be focused on?" "Oooh I don't know? Maybe the fact that Striker is still out there, and he could try and hunt down Stolas again!" "Oh sh#t! I didn't think of that. Alright, let's go and tell everyone else" You and him called everyone into the office where you explained what happened last night, and it looked like Moxie had seen a ghost. "Mox? Are you ok?" "That bastard tried to k#ll me and Millie! The thought of him being around again, I hate it. I know you saw him briefly last night Y/N, but you haven't seen him when he's fighting. He's tough" Blitz says "Well yeh he was Mox, but most people are when they're fighting YOU" "What?! Sir I can handle myself!" "When Millie's holding your hand...or your d#ck!" "Sir! I'm-" "Anyway, anyway Moxie. Your right, he is tough. But I know someone in this room who would beat the sh#t out of that #sshole" "Sir, if your going to say Luna, she barely helped us that day when we ALL fought him!" "Not quite Luna, but I know my sweet baby could tear out anyones throat out! Can't you Loony?!" Just shrugging at him, you see a small smile at the corner of Luna's mouth.

"Anyway Moxie, if you hadn't have interrupted me you f#cking bipsh#t! I was actually gunna say Y/N" You were instantly confused. "Huh? Why me?" "Oh come on! I once saw you take out an entire street of humans in the most brutal and violent ways! There was a good 45-50 of them! And they were better fighters than Striker!" "Blitz, first off, I disposed of them because they were all convicted pedofiles. And they were meeting up there to find away to lock down a local human school" "Yeh! And you f#cking k#lled every one of them!" "Yes...and second of all, I know there was a lot, but this Striker you've told me about has an angelic weapon and was able to take on all 4 of you, and get away. What makes you think that in a scenario where me and him are fighting, that I would be the one who comes out on top?" "Because you have fought each one of us, and all at the same time when we did our training before we started going to the human world. And each time, you beat the sh#t out of us! You even beat Luna!" "Yeh....you kinda did beat me Y/N....but I also kinda respect you because of that" "Oh, thanks Luna. Look, discussing this is all well and good. But what if Striker decided he's going to try and finish the job with Stolas?" Everyone looks at eachother for a moment, trying to think of what to do. "I've already told Stolas we're not bodyguards, you remember the sh#t show at Loo Loo Land?" "Yes Blitz, but let's not forget. No Stolas, means no access to the human world" "Oh f#ck sticks! Alright, fine! We'll keep an eye out for Striker. If any of you guys see him, kill him! Or else were out of a job"

The next few days went by as normal, you went and did a few jobs with Blitz, Millie and Moxie, informed Stolas about Striker and told him to call any of us if he saw him again, and generally just tried to get on with things. You and Blitz hadn't discussed the moment in his office, but you knew it had to be brought up, but how? Now that you knew that he really did wanna sleep with you...were you going to?...... One morning, Blitz gave Millie and Moxie a little job on earth to do, he apparently couldn't be bothered to do it. So Millie and Moxie left with the book, Blitz was in his office talking a call from Stolas and Luna was sat behind the front desk, checking her sistagram. You saw this as an opportunity, and seized your moment. "Hey Luna?" "What?" "You bored?" "Yeh" "I need to do some important paperwork at this desk, how about you go and see if there's anything nice you can treat yourself with down the mall in town?" You say sweetly offering her $60. "Wow! Really?" "Yeh, go treat yourself for a few hours" "Cool, thanks. I'll see you later" As soon as she grabbed her coat, she was out of there, and you and Blitz were the only ones in work. Walking towards his office, you can faintly hear the ending of the phone call with Stolas, which Blitz seemed to want to finish. You knocking on his door gave him the perfect excuse. "Huh? Stolas I gotta go, someone's hear to talk to me. Buy. Is that you my little Loony?"

Blitz was pleasantly suprised to see you walking into his office instead. "Y/N! What brings you buy? Oh, and by the way, whatever it is, I'm glad. Because Stolas was talking my f#cking ear off on the phone" "Stolas does love to chat to you Blitz" "Yeh, he likes a lot of sh#t about me. Maybe it's because I diddle his holes every month? Eh it must be, anyway! What do you need?" Raising an eyebrow to him and slowly closing the door, you lean against his door, trying to look seductive. "Maybe I need you to finish what you started.....that is....if you remember?" He stands straight up, eyes wide at first, then turn hungry and devilish. "Ooooohh...your damn right I remember...." He takes his time to walk over to you, taking in the sight of you, looking so damn sexy infront of him. He pins his hands against the wall, with you and him now very close. "So....you do wanna ride on this d#ck huh?....." "If...you can deliver the goods...." "Oooh baby....promise me when I say, I can deliver the f#cking goods....tell me....how do you like it?..." "I like a guy that can take charge..." You say seductively, running your hand down his chest and slowly massaging his now growing bulge. "I like someone who tells me what to do....tells me what a good girl I can be" You lean into his ear, bite at his earlobe and run your tounge down his neck making him shiver. It was like a fire was lit in him, he exhaled deeply, sounding so sexy, right before his hand came and wrapped around your throat.

"Let's just see about that....(grawl)" That noise he made was enough to make you wet already, let alone the look in his eye and the way he spoke to you. His hand on your throat ever so slightly squeezed as his other unbuckled his trousers. "I've wanted to f#ck you like this for so god damn-oh sh#t! Won't Luna hear us?" "Nope! I gave her some money to spend in town...I wanted you all to myself..." "Oh your full of suprises....but now I want you full of me!" His hands grab your hips and pin you against the wall, leaning in and pressing his eager lips to your neck and kissing the soft and delicate skin, making you practically melt against him. Your breath catches as he nibbles at your neck and ear, and he starts to grind against you as his hips slide a little inbetween your legs. You can feel his hard bulge as he rubs it in just the right space, f#ck me you were so turned on from this, and he hadn't even taken his clothes off yet. Pulling away from your neck, he kisses you so hard that you feel dizzy and breathless, your fingers dig into his shoulders just so you can have something to hold onto. Ripping his shirt open, you stroke down his chest, feeling his tough body and his racing heartbeat, holy sh#t. Without warning, he picks you up and slams you on top of his desk, still holding your legs around his hips as he looks deep into your eyes.

"Your so f#cking hot....I've imagined plowing you against this desk for so long..." "What's stopping you then?.....or are you being a little pussy?..." Again, his dominant side is back out, and his hand is around your throat again. "Call me a pussy again baby....I dare you....see what happens...." His devilish look and his tone of voice makes you want him to take you now! Hard and fast! ".....Pussy...." "You asked for it..." His lips are on you again, sliding his tounge inside he's trying to f#ck your mouth with it. He pushes you down onto the desk, still holding you by the neck as he whips out his cock, slamming it inside you with no hesitation. "Huh! Oh f#ck!" "Yeh that's it baby...f#cking take all of me....oooh you feel so good..." Just like you wanted him, he holds you in place as he f#cks you mercilessly against the desk. Over, and over, f#cking you like a little rag doll. Your orgasm was already seconds away, you couldn't hold on! Your scream filled the office as your body shook, your legs felt like jelly and he didn't stop once. "That's it, c#m all over my c#ck! Awww, look at that little face...your all worn out....you all finished there? Hit your high....well I think you can handle another one....or a few" He really wasn't finished with you, you did feel a little worn out, but hungry for more, and he could sence that. Flipping you over, your now facing a way from him while still leaning over the desk, where he starts f#cking you again, making tears fall from your eyes as he brings you to climax again and again, and again! Even his tale played a part in the action! When it wasn't flicking and rubbing at your most sensitive area, it was tying your hands together and letting him be completely in control, and you loved every single f#cking second of it! No previous boyfriend or one night stand had made you feel like that before, it was f#cking insane!

You felt as if you were going to pass out soon, this whole experience had tired you out, not to mention this is the most orgasms you had ever had in a row! Your legs were like jelly! If Blitz wasn't holding you around him, you'd have collapsed a long time ago, he was a lot stronger that you had imagined. Just as you feel like another orgasm could put you to sleep, Blitz came with a loud grunt and shout! "(Grunt) Ah ah! Oh f#ck yeh! (Out of breath) oh sh#t! That was....damn! You ok?" "Oh Blitz....I haven't.....just...woh..." "You got some stamina in you girl! Hear let me help you get a little more comfortable" He gently slides himself out and helps you sit in the chair, your poor legs are shaking and you can't control them at the moment. "Was that too much for you? I'm sorry if I was too-" "Oh no Blitz, that was f#cking awesome!" "Yeh?" "Yes! I finaly know what if feels like to get my brains f#cked out" "Ah ha ha! I know right! You were great, way better than I imagined you were" "So, are my legs supposed to be doing this?" "What the shaking? Oh don't worry, I know how to fix that" Taking you carefully in his arms, he walks down the hall with you to the far end, where there is a bathroom with a separate shower area, just incase. It tended to be used if you needed to wash off any blood whilst inbetween jobs, but for now, it was to help you get cleaned up. He was being so sweet, helping you get cleaned and get your legs back to normal in the shower, you wouldn't have imagined he had pretty much rearranged your guts mere moments before. 20 minutes later, you could walk and were no longer as sensitive, and you both went back to Blitz's office to get dressed back into your clothes. He insisted you sit and take a breather as he put his office back together, you both did kind of destroy it in the heat of the moment.

"That was incredible Blitz, I can't believe we haven't done that before" "I know right! I'll tell you what though, you were sooo worth the wait" "Aww thank you. You definitely were too" A few minutes passed and you hear the sound of the portal in the main room, Moxie and Millie had come back. They came and knocked on the door, Millie looked happy, but Moxie not so much. "So M&M, how did it go? Holy sh#t Mox! You look like sh#t!" "Oh he's alright Blitz, he's just a little shaken up by that job we just did" Millie had explained to you and Blitz that they had to deal with a human who wanted to keep Moxie as a pet, and made him wear a dog collar and tried to make him eat dog food. "Can you blame him Mox? You do act like a little b#tch sometimes" "Sir! I am not a dog!" "Calm down Mox, I said bitch! Which is technical a female dog" "Does taking the p#ss out of me make you feel just slightly important for a mere second? Considering how sad your own life is sir?" "Yeh, it does actually. Anyway! Mills, tell me about this little sh#t you and Mox had to deal with. It sounds like fun!" As Millie and Moxie discuss the contract with you both, Blitz couldn't help but sneak glances at you, and you him. He did just f#ck you so damn good! And everyone was oblivious, it was kind of exciting. Later that afternoon, everyone was getting ready to go home, and Luna had come back with a bag of new clothes. She showed you when you asked to see them, however, as soon as Blitz wanted to see like an over excited parent, Luna just hit him with her bag, slightly smirking, it was kind of funny. When Millie and Moxie left, you, Blitz and Luna were walking out to the car park together.

"Are you gunna show me your new clothes at home Loony? I think you'd look so cute in some new outfits!" "Ugghh shut up da-Blitz!" "Aww your too precious" Luna huffed and sat in the van, where Blitz offered to walk you to your moterbike. "Thanks again for giving Luna some money to go shopping, she does love it in the mall. It's just a shame she doesn't like me there with her...I thought it could be a nice daddy/daughter experience" "I know Blitz, and you can have that some day, but it's when you both have to be ready for that. Don't get your hopes up ok? She does love you" "Yeh, I love her too.....So uhh....about today?" "I'm...gunna guess it's something your not going to want to do again?" "Huh? No! Why would you think that?" "Isn't this supposed to happen? Whenever I've been with a guy, they tend to either ignore me from then on, or just never see me again" "What a bunch of fat f#ckin d#ck wads! Hell no! Y/N, I'd still like to keep this going" "You do?" "Yeh! I know when we first met, we discussed not wanting a relationship, so why not friends with benefits? I still care about you, but if you like, we can be friends who screw eachothers brains out too! What do you say?" "You know what? I actually like the idea of friends with benefits. We always banter and flirt with eachother anyway. The only difference now is that we both get to do something about it" "Yeh! I agree! Great! Friends with benefits!" He gives you a quick hug. "I've got to go now, but maybe we could (hang out) again tomorrow?" "Are you sure? Are you not tired from today? Or worried someone could hear us in the office tomorrow?" "Oh I got a f#ck load of stamina baby! And there can't be much noise if your mouth is full....See you tomorow!"

He smiles happily as he hops into his van, and drives down the street to take himself and Luna home, he was such a manic ball of energy, but you loved that about him. Once you got your moterbike ready, you started driving in the direction of home, just enjoying the quiet trip on the bike, like nothing more than an easy night. That was....until the accident....You had taken a turn down a street you usually drive, it was a short cut. But what you didn't see was that mere seconds before you drove over them, someone had thrown road spikes down, and it popped both your bike tyres! You panic! Swerving, scared you were going to crash and get seriously hurt! The bike was about to fall, taking you with it, when you made a quick thinking decision. You, or the bike, you chose you. Jumping away from the seat, you land hard on the pavement right before your bike hit a large tree, crushing it and nearly killing you in the process. Pain floods throughout your body, blood trickled down your arms and face when you touch it, you had hit your head and hurt your arms and legs when you impacted the pavement, it hurt so damn much. All you could make at first was groans, but as you tried to steady your breathing, you started shouting for help. It was dark, and you couldn't see anyone, but you kept shouting, hoping that someone could help you. Reaching into your pocket, your phone had been all smashed up, so you couldn't even call the police or Blitz, and the pain was getting worse. You wipe away the blood on your forhead and try to stand up, but unbeknown to you, you were being hunted...and you were right where he wanted you....Getting to your knees, you try to take a hold of a near by rock, but are suddenly grabbed from behind by an unknown attacker! He pins your badly hurt arms around your back with one of his hands, and the other reaches around and holds a damp cloth over your nose and mouth. Struggling and writhing in his grip, you try your best to get away, but this rag has something in it thats making you drowsy, and moving in his vice like grip is getting too much for you. "Your all mine now little darlin.....and there ain't noone gunna stop me taking you..."

That voice? You recognise this mans voice. STRIKER! But it was too late, your eyes start to close, and everything goes black as you flop in his arms, being completely knocked out. The next morning, Blitz walks into work with Luna, seeing only Moxie and Millie. "Hey butt f#cks, what's new today?" "Nothing yet sir" Moxie says in a grumpy tone. "Y/N wasn't hear to tell us if any new clients had called" "Hmm? That's strange. Have you guys seen her at all?" "Nope, me and Moxie left last night, and the only time we saw her was when she was walking out with you and Luna" "Has she called in sick?" Moxie checks the answering machine, but there's nothing there. "Nope, nothing sir" "That's so weird, let me give her a call" Blitz was starting to worry now, you were always great with your time management, getting there the earliest, good at avoiding traffic, and would always get in touch if any issue came up. "Hmmm, straight to answer machine. Something doesn't feel right" "Did she say anything last night that might make you remember a reason why she couldn't be in sir?" "No, nothing. We were both just talking about what to do today, nothing out of the ordinary" Luna sits behind the desk as Blitz, Millie and Moxie all talk about where you could be, when the phone rings, but Luna just ignored it as she checked her sistagram. "Loony, please answer the phone next time" "Why? That's Y/N's job" "But she's not hear right now Loony" "Uugghh! Fine. Well, looks like it doesn't matter, they left a message on the answering machine" "Oh! Alright, press play then please Loony"

She presses the button, the voice doesn't come through for a few seconds...but when it does...it makes everyone stand on edge. "Hey there little imps..." "That...that's Strikers voice! What the f#ck is he calling us for?!" The message carried on as they all listened. "I'm guessing your wondering what happened to your little lady today huh? Well, let me put ya'll's mind at rest...I've got her with me right now..." "WHAT?!" Blitz shouts. "How is Y/N with Striker sir?" "I don't f#cking know Mox!" "I guess ya'll are wondering why this has happened...well I simply couldn't keep away from such a pretty little thing...well, I say that....she doesn't look too good now. And who can blame her? She did get into a pretty rough moterbike accident last night...and she's passed out right now, bound and gagged in this chair...poor little thing" Hearing what's happened to you makes Blitz's blood boil, and rage is bursting to get out. "I think I could have a lot of fun with this little darlin....however....I am willing to give a trade for her....bring me Stolas....and I'll let her go. But I have to warn you....if you don't do as I say, and bring me that royal #sshole by tomorow night....she may not make it in time....tomorrow night! By the abandoned industrial site! Be there....or be ready to say goodbye to your pretty little lady friend" As soon as he said that, the message ended, and Blitz, in a rage, threw a chair across the room and it smashed into the window. "THAT MOTHER F#CKER!"

"Sir, let's calm down for a moment and think about what to do-" "Calm down? CALM DOWN?! That horse f#cking d#ck wad caused Y/N to get into a crash, kidnapped her and is holding her hostage! And f#ck knows what he's going to do to her before we find her! And you want me to CALM THE F#CK DOWN?!" Millie holds Blitz steady, trying to ground him. "Blitz! Listen to me! We need to think of a plan to get her back! And we can't do that until you calm down, and think about Y/Ns safety!" That seemed to have shaken him out of his rage a little, but just a little. "Oh satan's damn it! I'm sorry Mills, I just hate that she's in danger. If only I'd invited her back with me a Luna last night, she might have never been hurt" "I know Blitz, but thinking like that isn't going to help right now. We need to think of a way to get Y/N back, without handing Stolas over to him. He said he wanted a traid remember?" "Y-yeh? But we can't hand over Stolas" "That's why we need to think of something" Moxie perks up. "I might have an idea!" "What's that Mox? You and Millie dress us as Stolas while me and Luna distract him?" "Wait...how did you?" "Mox, if I can think of it, Striker will figure it out in seconds" "Damn it!" Noone seems to know what to do, and Blitz looks like he's about to have a heart attack. That is, until Luna thinks of something. "I think I know what we can do" "What is it Loony?" "It involves us going to visit Stolas. Come on, let's go" "Oh my sweet Loony! Your so clever!" "Ugghh, whatever Blitz, just get your #sses in the van and lets go"

A whole day had passed, and due to your injuries, you had only just started to wake up out of unconsciousness. Your whole body felt like it had been hit by a bus, your head was sore and painful, and you could feel your waist tied with rope to a chair, and your wrists tied behind you too. There was no way for you to move, but the pain was enough to make you think twice before trying. Your eyes were adjusting to the light of the room, well there wasn't much of that. It seemed you were in some kind of old and disused room, filled with tools, broken pieces of furniture and broken windows shining in a little of the moonlight. You hear a door close behind you, and the sound of those same jingling boots coming up behind you. Strikers hand stroked around your neck, you hated that he touched you.

"Wakey wakey little darlin....man, you were out for nearly two days..." He says as he starts to slowly walk around you, facing you now. "How's about I take this little thing off of you" He says as he tears the duct tape from your mouth, it stung so much. "There we go....you comfortable hear little lady?" "........bite me......" "Ooohhh....little ladys got attitude...just makes me want you even more" "I'd never want you, you psychopathic c#ck sucker. What the f#ck did you do to me?" You ask, angry but still a little dazed. "Ah it's very simple. You see I road spiked your moterbike, drugged you and brought you back hear. Don't take it the wrong way darlin, I have business to do. And your the key to dealing with it"

"The key? What are you talking about?" "Your little friends....Blitz...Millie, and.....oh f#ck what was the other ones name again? F#ck it, it ain't important! What IS important, is that I'm gunna exchange you for my real target, with the help of your little imp friends" "They wouldn't do that! Stolas is an innocent guy, and our only way to do our job! Blitz wouldn't jeopardise that!" "Well he would....if your life was hangin in the balance..." "You sick f#ck....I don't care what you say, Blitz won't do it" "Oh really? Then why did he agree to meet me tonight to do the exchange?" "He...he what?" "That's right....he's bringing his royal f#ck toy hear, to give in exchange for you..." "But...he can't" "And why is that?" "Because....he'd loose everything he's ever wanted...that he's worked hard for....he wouldn't give that up and let Stolas die" "Clearly, in his eyes, you ARE that important. But I quite frankly don't care, I just want to kill that feathered f#ck and get my money. Now.....the meeting isn't happening for another hour. And it would be a shame to miss out on a chance to....(serenade) a beautiful woman such as yourself" "Don't you dare fucking touch me you creep!" "Oh come on little darlin....I can make you feel things no other man can..."

"Oh please! You have zero chance against Blitz!" "Bl-Blitz? You fucked that imp?!" "Oh yeh, and he ruined me for anyone else. And even if you tried, you would never even come close to being half the man he is in the bedroom. Your a pathetic excuse for an imp!" "Shut the f#ck up!" With one wack of his hand, he hits you so hard in the face that your vision goes blurry, and you spit out blood from where he hit you so hard. He suddenly grabs you by the neck, choking you as he stares at you, evil in his yellow eyes.

"How about I f#ck you infront of Blitz before I kill him huh? When he brings me that bird brain, I'll kill him, the stupid imp couple, that hell hound bitch, and then leave Blitz till last! He can see you go through even more torment before I shoot that f#ckers face off!.....but for now..." He let's go of your throat for just a second before he tears your ropes from your waist and hands, and throws you onto the floor. Struggling, and in so much pain as it is, you couldn't fight back even if you wanted to. His stance above you shadowed the moonlight, you were terrified. "For now it seems I'll just have to show you what happens when you act like a little bitch....I'll make that moterbike crash feel like a walk through a f#cking daisy field!......you did this to yourself you know...." An hour later, the meeting was about to start. Blitz and Stolas were standing in the back part of this disused industrial site, waiting for Striker and you to arrive. They heard a car driving up to them, which came to an abrupt halt just a few feet infront of them. Striker is the one who gets out of the car, pointing an angelic weapon at Blitz and Stolas. "Where is Y/N you mother f#cker!" "Ah ah ah...patience little imp....hand over the bird first" "No! Until we see Y/N, your getting nothing!" "Huh! Fine!" Still pointing the gun, Striker walks around the the back door, and hauls you out of the back, completely and utterly broken. He throws you to the ground, inbetween him, Blitz and Stolas. Stolas looked so worried and scared for you, and Blitz looked utterly heartbroken.

It caused him so much pain and anger to see you like this, how dare he do this too you. "Y/N! Oh shit Y/N I'm so sor-" "Ah ah! Don't go near her Blitz! She's mine for now" "She doesn't belong to you, you c#ck sucking-!" "Oh, but she does...until you hand HIM over...." Blitz couldn't keep his tear filled eyes off you, Striker had beaten you to a pulp. You had two black swollen eyes, blood on your lips, cuts and bruises on your face. You were limp on the ground, barley able to keep your head up or even look at Blitz. The beating you got from Striker had destroyed you, not to mention the other damage you sustained when the moterbike crashed. Tears streamed your face, and Blitz was at a war with himself, deciding weather to hold you in his arms or beat Striker to death.

Striker could see the pain in Blitz's eyes, and he made it worse by aiming the angelic gun, now at you! "I said! HAND HIM OVER!" Blitz looked up at Stolas, and Stolas just simply nodded and started to walk over to Striker. "That's it...nice and steady" Stolas never said a word as he stood close to Striker, the gun now aimed at him instead. "Thank you Blitz, it seemed you ain't so useless after all" "We've made the trade, now let me help her-" "Hmmmm.....wait....on second thought.....how about I just kill you all?" "What?!"

"Oh come on Blitz, you really thought is was gunna be that easy? I'll deal with this bird brain first....then I'll deal with you, and this bitch! But don't worry, I won't kill you straight away....I wanna make you watch her suffer....just a little more..." "You mother fu-" "Awww, it's a shame it had to happen this way Blitz, I thought we could be a really good team" "......You know what?......the only person who's gunna end up dead tonight is you" "What?" "Come on....you really thought it was gunna be this easy for YOU either?" Blitz said with a smirk. Full of rage, Striker fired the gun at Stolas....but it didn't kill him. In fact it went straight through him like he was made of air, how? The moment he did that, this figure of Stolas evaporated, like he was a mirage. "WHAT THE FUCK!? YOU SON OF A-"

Striker swings around, about to take out Blitz instead, but it Blitz's plan was about to take affect. A gun shoots through the air and hit Striker in his shoulder, Millie and Moxie had been hiding behind an old car the whole time! And they had jumped out and started shooting at Striker, in a stand off! This meant Blitz could jump to you and cover you from any gun fire. "Oh sh#t! Y/N! I'm gunna get you out of hear ok?!" "Blitz....you came...." You just about manage to say with the last of your strength, Blitz couldn't bare to see you like this. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry sweetie! I should have kept you safe! I should have protected you!" You reach out and hold his hand, trying your best to show him that it's ok, and that you understand. He smiles weakly, and kisses your hand. "I'm gunna make sure your safe sweetie" Despite the gun fire in the background, Blitz is gentle as he picks you up in his arms, being as careful as he can with you. You hiss in pain, it's too much. "Shhh shhh it's alright, your gunna be somewhere safe soon. Just hold on" Moments later, a portal opens to the real Stolas on the other side, looking worried. "Oh my! Blitzy, what happened to her?!" "Never mind that now Stolas! Please take her, help her and keep her safe!" "Of course Blitzy" Blitz hands you to Stolas, and he was just as gentle with you as Blitz was. "I'll be back as soon as I can alright? I'm gunna go gake care of that b#stard!"

The last you see of Blitz, Millie, Moxie and Luna is the faint glimpse of them all fighting Striker, right before the portal closes. "Oh my poor sweet Y/N, how could someone do this to you? Just hang in there, I'm taking you to the best hospital there is"

You just about manage to hear him say that, but the pain was over flowing, and your body couldn't stay conscious anymore. The world turned black when your eyes fluttered shut. "Oh my! Y/N? Y/N?!" Hours later, your safely in a hospital bed with Stolas by your side, not leaving you for anything. Thankfully, they had managed to help you, and so did Stolas. He used his book to try out some healing spells on you, that helped with the internal bleeding you had, and got you out of the deadly danger zone. There was only so much the book could do for you though, and that's where the hospital are standing in. The bruising, swelling and pain is being kept under control with pain medication, you unfortunately were still passed out, your poor body had gone through so much, any strength you had, was now gone. About 20 minutes later, Blitz and the others run into the hospital room, out of breath and physically drained. Moxie and Millie collapsed against the wall, Blitz ran straight to you and Luna soon joined too. "Y/N! Is she ok Stolas?! Please tell me she's gunna be alright!" "It's ok Blitzy, she's going to be alright" Luna asked "What injuries did she have?" Stolas takes a breath. "Maybe we should stand outside for a moment?"

He didn't feel comfortable talking about your injuries when you could possibly hear. Blitz was hesitant of leaving you at first, but he knew you were in the best place, and that you were safe. They all stood outside and Stolas explained what you had gone through. It seemed any injury you could have sustained, you did. You had been assulted by Striker to within an inch of your life, which caused broken ribs, broken wrist, cracked ankle and your body was covered in bruising from head to toe. You had also suffered even worse damage from the moterbike crash. Nerve damage and a ruptured spleen, which was thankfully dealt with quickly and efficiently thanks to Stolas's book. It was no wonder you had been in so much pain, pretty much nothing on you had been untouched. Blitz collapsed to the floor when hearing this, he hid his face in his hands as the angry and guilt filled tears poured out of him. The poor guy blamed himself for what happened to you, he blamed himself for everything bad that had happened to people he loved or cared about. Including what happened in the circus years ago, he felt like a curse. "Blitzy, it's ok. She's going to make it" "But look at what she's gone through! I couldn't-I couldn't help her!" "Oh but you did Blitzy....she was in danger and you saved her. She's now in hospital, and she's safe again" "But for how long?! We couldn't....." "You couldn't what?" Moxie clears his throat. "Striker got away...we couldn't k#ll him. Which means he is still a danger to you and Y/N" Stolas takes a breath to steady himself, then he says. "I....I see....But...There is danger everywhere you look. We're in hell! Of course there will be! But me and Y/N are both safe, and I know that she is going to be ok once she's herself again. Blitzy? Blitzy look at me"

Still teary eyed, he looks up at Stolas. "Y/N is going to be ok....and your to thank for that. Now....at this moment, she needs you. Why don't you go and sit with her? I can see you need to be with her"

Wiping his cheeks, Blitz stands up and steadied his breath. He wanted to be calm before going into see you, he needed to be. He walked in, where Stolas talks to the others who are still in the hall. "Are you all alright?" "Yes your majesty" "Are any of you hurt?" "A few cuts hear and there, but nothing we can't handle" Millie says with a smile, she was a tough cookie. Luna runs her hand through her hair as she speaks. "I'm fine, I bit that b#stard in the arm before he got away. But I'm good" "Oh thank goodness. And, what about Blitzy? He seems..." "He's just worried about Y/N, your majesty" Moxie says. "He's been so worried about her ever since she never turned up for work. Knowing Blitz, he isn't going to leave that room for a while" "I do believe your right" Moxie and Millie tell Luna and Stolas that they are going to go and grab some clothes from your flat for you, and they will be back a little later. And Luna heads in the direction of the hospital canteen, she thought everyone could do with something to eat or drink. Stolas was now left by himself, he leant against the door of your room, and observed Blitz sitting beside you. He was in pieces. In the room, you lie there, pale, bruised and totally lifeless, poor Blitz couldn't control his tears. "I'm...I'm so sorry Y/N....for everything. F#cking christ! Why do I f#ck up everyone whose closest to me? Barbie, Fizz...and now you...I don't deserve you as a friend, or even more than that to be truthful. Any imp would beg to have a woman like you...and I can't even....oh f#ck!" He couldn't contain it anymore, and burst out into tears, hiding his face away from the world. The pain and guilt he felt for you was overwhelming.

He suddenly felt a warm hand on his shoulder, making him turn to see who it was. "Blitzy.....I'm so sorry..." He couldn't speak word, the tears just kept coming, and Stolas just sat beside him, holding him by his shoulders gently as he let all that pain out. "When I find that f#cker-" "Striker shouldn't be your priority now Blitzy...she should be" "Your right, your right I...damn it I just don't know what I can do for her Stolas. What do I do?" "Anything you think will help her....comfort her when she wakes up, talk gently to her, reassure her that she's going to be alright" "She will be! Because I ain't gunna let anyone hurt her ever again!" "I believe you Blitzy, she is lucky to have you by her side....I'm going to give my daughter a call, I have to pick her up from her mothers home tonight. Are you going to be alright hear?" "Yeh, I'll be fine. I'm not leaving her" "Alright Blitzy, I'll come by tomorrow to check on the both of you, ok?" Stolas gently pats Blitz on the back before leaving the room, so now it's just you and Blitz. "I hope you wake up soon Y/N...I can't bare to see you like this" A knock at the door alerts Blitz, like he is expecting danger. "Chill out Blitz, it's just me" "Oh! I'm sorry Loony...I guess I'm a little on edge" "Yeh no sh#t. Hear, I got you somethin" "Thank you Loony" She hands Blitz a bottle of drink and a sandwich, but he just plays with it in his hands. "Hows she doing?" "She isn't awake yet. I don't know when she will be" "The doctor told me outside that she may be hear for a few weeks, but thanks to Stolas, she's gunna recover a lot better than anticipated" Blitz nods, still a little teary eyed. Luna couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Taking a seat beside him, she gave his hand a quick squeeze, but then let go again. "She'll be ok dad" "Thanks Loony....your the best daughter anyone could ask for" She looked away the second he said that, trying to hide her cute little puppy dog eyes, that was very corny, but one of the nicest things he has said to her. And he is always trying to be sweet to her.

The sound of the beeping monitor started to make you stir from your drowsiness, your vision started to brighten and unblur, and the moment your eyes completely opened, you saw Blitz and Luna sat beside you.

"Blitz?" You ask in a quiet and groggy voice. "Y/N! Oh thank satan! Your awake!" He shouts cheerfully as he leans in to hug you. "Hhsss! Ouch!" "Oh! F#ck! Sorry sorry! I should have been a little more gentle" "Don't worry, it's ok" Silly Blitz just smiled happily and held your hand, Luna asked you "So Y/N? How you feelin?" "Like sh#t, that has been run over by a truck" "Seems about right, heh. I could always smuggle you some vodka to help ease the stress?" Blitz looked at her in utter shock. "Loony!" "What? Are you really gunna sit there and tell me that drinking vodka hasn't helped you with pain in the past?" "Well....I....touche!" You giggle, Blitz couldn't exactly deny that when Luna asked. "I'm fine thanks Luna, whatever the nurses are pumping into me, seems to be doing the trick. Are you guys all ok? Where are Moxie and Millie? Where's Stolas? And what the hell happened when you came to find me?" "M&M went to get you some of your things, Stolas is fine, and on the phone to his kid. And, yeh....I suppose we owe you an explanation for what happened. I'll try to sum it up as best as I can. So when Striker left that message for us, he wanted Stolas in exchange for you. So Loony had an idea, and we spoke to Stolas at his castle. Turns out that book can do loads of other cool sh#t besides take us to the living world! Anyway, Stolas suggested we do a spell where it looks like he's beside us, until the very last moment, making Striker think he's actualy there! And Lonny suggested that we ambush Striker when he brought you out, and Stolas could teleport you away while we dealt with him! We knew that you would be in no position to fight, the best thing to do was to get you out of there as quickly as possible"

"And that's why you stayed behind? Gave me to Stolas so you could k#ll Striker?" "Well...believe me Y/N we all did our best at the time! But that slippery f#cker managed to get away! Again! But trust me, none of us are gunna let him go near you again" "He's still out there? Does that mean he want to still k#ll stolas?" "Yeh, but that ain't gunna happen either, I promise" You just smile, seeing how serious he was about the whole thing, it was definitely a lot to take in when hearing their plan to get you back. You were just glad to be back with your friends again, and not in half as much pain as before. "Hey Y/N, you'll be happy to know that Striker didn't get away easily" "He didn't? Why? What did you do Luna?" "We all pretty much f#cked him up real good. And I even bit him!" "Nice, was it his head?" "I tried, but the pr#ck was too fast" You both chuckle, Luna was definitely not someone to f#ck with. "I can see Millie pulling up with Moxie, I'm gunna go see them and have a cigarette. I'll be back soon" "Alright Loony" Once Luna left the room, Blitz squeezes your hand a little more, and you can see the pain he still holds. "Blitz...it's ok" "Ok?...Y/N your in a hospital, beaten and-" "But you saved me, you all saved me. I'm not being held by Striker anymore" "I know, I know but-" "But nothing Blitz, please? I can see the guilt in your eyes, but you have nothing to feel guilty about. I'm safe now because of you, and that's the end of it. Ok?" "Heh...how can you be so positive when your in this state?" "Is it because I'm awesome?" "Ha! F#ck yeh!......Look, I promise I will keep you safe from him ok?" "I know Blitz, I believe you"

Smiling happily at you, he means over and gives you a kiss on tne forhead, he ws so cute. "How long did the doctor say I was gunna be in hear for?" "Uhh? I think about 3 weeks" "3 weeks? I'm not sure I'm gunna be able to last that long" "Without what?" "Without being back in your office" "You've got to be kidding me! Your thinking about going back to work?! Your gunna put your health at risk to help us-" "Blitz" "What?!" "When I said about being back in your office.....that's not quite what I meant....." "Huh? What do you-Ooooh! Oh you mean (that). I get it now, god I'm such a f#cking idiot sometimes-woh woh wait wait wait! Seriously? You....you still wanna...with me?" "Of course Blitz, why would you think would change my mind?" "I-I dont know? I just guessed...you wouldn't. And come on! Your thinking about THAT in your state!" "Yeh well, I'm not gunna be in this state forever am I?" "I...suppose you make a good point. So....you wanna little piece of me? When you feel a little better?" "Maybe I will...." His sexy chuckle always made you feel wanted, especially when he leaned over and started kissing you so f#cking well. You've missed the taste of his lips, god damn. "Mmm, I cant wait to-" Suddenly there is a knock at the door, and Moxie and Millie walk in, holding a bag of your things. "Oh sh#t! Hey M&M! I didn't know you were back yet?" "We were just talking to Luna outside sir" "Well, he says talking. Luna threatened to kick him in the nuts if he asked her how she was"

Millie said in an amused way. "Awww, that's my Loony!" "Seriously sir? You'll let your adoptive daughter talk to me like that?" "Yeh, I don't really care Mox. Anyway! Look who's awake!" Millie and Moxie greet you with a hug and kind words, asking how you are feeling and what they could do to help. The afternoon went by so quickly, you hadn't even realised it was now the end of the day, and Moxie and Millie were going to head home. "Hey Blitz, Millie said she'll drop me back at the flat on her way home with Moxie. I'll see you later" "Awww ok Loony, thanks for taking her Mills" "it's no problem Blitz, see you tomorow you two" They all say their goodbyes, then it was just you and Blitz left in the hospital room. "I'm confused" "Why?" They left, and your still hear. Why didn't you go with them?" "Oh please! You really think I'm gunna leave you buy yourself? F#ck that shit!" He pulls in a fold out chair from the hallway, and puts it beside you. "Blitz, you dont have to stay over night with me, you can go home" "You ain't making me change my mind, I want to stay, and keep an eye on you" "Blitz that's.....that's very sweet. Thank you" Sitting on the end of the bed with you, he smiles warmly, happy your feeling better. "You tired yet?" "No, but to be fair I think I was passed out for long enough" "Yeh that's true, the last time I was passed out for longer than you were, I think it was a night and day long rave at one of Mamons gigs" "Mamon? That #sshole that Fizz works for?" "Yeh that's the one" "Are you tired Blitz?" "Me? Nah I'm fine. Don't feel tired at all. Why?.....ooohhhh! Do you want a little.....attention?" "If your gunna suggest a f#ck, I'm not sure I can even move properly. Especially with the damage I've got" "Well not a f#ck, maybe a little foreplay? No, I'm sorry that's stupid of me. Your in a bad state" "In too bad a state for s#x yes, but maybe...." "Maybe what?" "Just a little makeout?" "Aww your too cute!" "Blitz! I am not cute!" "Oh yes you are! Your f#cking adorable!" Giggling at him, you just playfully push his arm. But he does slide beside you on your bed and holds you a little closer, with one hand already resting on your cheek. "I'm more than happy to makeout with you....those lips can be damn addictive..." "Is that the reason you bit one of them when we were in the office?" "Hell yeh! Can you blame me?! Now come hear gorgeous...let me make you feel good for a while....I can be whatever you want me to be...." "Oh! Can you be my personal slave?" "Don't push it sh#t tits! Haha!"

#helluva boss #helluva boss fandom #blitzo #blitzø #blitzo x reader #blitz x reader

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