#jessica brooks

[juniperskye]

Who Are You Again?

Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5336

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.  

Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.

*36 hours earlier*

“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.

“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.

“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.

“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.

The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.

As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.

You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.

The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy.  Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.

*Present Day*

“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.

“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.

“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.

*One year earlier*

“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.

“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”

You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.

“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.

“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.

“I love you.” Aaron said simply.

“What?” You were stunned.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.

After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.

Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).

*Present Day*

A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.

Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.

In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.

*2 Weeks Later*

Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.

“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.

You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.

Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.

The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.

“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.

You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?

“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.

“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.

Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.

“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.

“Oh, okay.”

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.

*Hotch’s POV*

She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.

“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”

“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.

“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.

“Will her memory return?”

“It’s hard to say.”

While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.

*Normal POV*

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.

Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.

“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.

“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.

“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”

“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.

“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.

“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”

“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.

“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.

“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”

“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.

“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.

Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.

*Five Days Later*

“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.

He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.

“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”

“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.

The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.

When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.

“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.

“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.

“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.

“That’s great, thank you.”

The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.

Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves. 

He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.

When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.

You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.

“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.

Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.

“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.

“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.

“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”

Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.

These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.

Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.

You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.

*One Week Later*

Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.

It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.

“Hi Penelope!”

“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.

“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.”  You let out a low chuckle.

“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.

The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team. 

“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope

“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”

You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.

“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”

“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.

Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.

You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.

“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.

Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.

“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”

“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”

“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.

“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”

“If you think that’s best.”

You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.

*Two Days Later*

“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.

“Okay, what time should I come down there?”

“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”

“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.

“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.

You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.

A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.

“Hi Aaron.”

“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.

Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.

“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.  

Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.

You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks.” You smiled.

You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.

“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey Pen!”

“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”

You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.

“This should only take a few minutes.”

Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.

Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.

After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.

When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.

You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.

You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…

“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”

Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.

You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.

“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.

“That we were together.”

You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.

Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.

“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”

You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.

“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.

You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..

It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.

“I remember.”

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[confused-pyramid]

I’d Like to Think That You Would Stick Around | s6

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: 15.5k

warnings: SMUT, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, guns, drinking, angst, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 6x06, 6x08, 6x17, and 6x18.

a/n: Sorry for the long wait guys, school has been kicking my ass, but here's the next part! We're getting a lot of angst this chapter, but we're so so close to the good times ;) Hope you enjoy! Title is from Love Song by Lana Del Rey

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Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You are talking to Prentiss across the bullpen, laughing about something he can't hear, and he's freaking out. He shouldn't have left that night. He knows that. He just didn't know what else to do.

Never mind the fact that he has no idea how much you remember.

When you bumped into him on the way out of the elevator this morning, he swears you jumped back, but then you smiled at him, and he was able to convince himself that it was all fine. So why does it still feel like you are avoiding him?

He can still picture the dark expanse of your pupils as you leaned in closer after stumbling into him; he can still feel the rush of your breath as your gaze met his and his fingers tightened on your hip.

He walks into his office, before sitting at his desk and dropping his head into his hands. His blinds are just shut enough that no one from down in the bullpen can see into his office, and he welcomes the privacy as he rubs a hand over his face and forces his eyes away from the photograph of the two of you on his desk.

'Aaron...'

Your voice had sounded so soft, so hurt-

He shuts his eyes again and tries to think about anything else (maybe even the paperwork he's supposed to have been doing for an hour now) but every time he blinks, he sees your face again.

He has suspected the shift in your feelings for a little while now, but that night at the bar confirmed something he isn't sure he's ready to handle. He feels it too - of course he does - but he can't think about it. He can't.

He's floundering with Jack, with trying to be there for both him and the team, and he just lost Haley. God, he just lost Haley, and the idea of losing you too because he fucks it up just like he did with her is unimaginable. They were together for decades - they had a child together - and still he couldn't give her what she needed. Your friendship means everything to him, and if he does something to ruin your relationship too, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He glances out his window and sees you still talking to Emily, both of your heads now bent down to look at an open case file. She says something to you, and your face lights up as you grin at her. Something that feels like lava pools in his gut and he swallows thickly as he turns back to his paperwork.

***

You head back to your desk and drop the case file down as you resist the urge to glance up at his office window. He hasn't looked at you once today, and you can't help it as your mind goes to the worst case scenario of losing him forever because of one stupid moment.

You had considered pretending that you don't remember anything from the bar, but he just left you there. That isn't something you can forget so easily, and even as you're trying to ignore it, you don't want to avoid him. But it isn't that simple.

You're simultaneously hurt and embarrassed, but it isn't even your own feelings that are at the forefront of your mind. You haven't been to his place in over a week, and you miss Jack and you miss him. You haven't gone this long without talking to him in years. 

Fuck.

***

Your quest to stay out of trouble results in you staying late at the office to get ahead on all of your work. Most nights you were staying even later than JJ and Aaron, but then JJ got sent to the DoD as a media liaison, and the work started piling up.

You did what you could to intercept some of the paperwork before it landed on his desk, especially since Jack was so close to starting preschool and you know Aaron wants to take any extra moment of face time he can get, but it wasn't a foolproof system.

That's why it's almost midnight after getting back from a case in Ohio, and Aaron's office light is still on. Knowing it's about time you broke the cone of silence you've been under, you walk up the stairs, giving yourself ample time to change your mind.

A minute later, you knock on his door, before pushing it open gently, waiting to see the look on his face.

"Oh, you're still here," he says, his eyes lingering on you for an extra moment before turning back to his work. "Come in."

You shut the door behind you and sit in the chair in front of his desk. It doesn't sink like it usually does, and it takes you a second to realize that he finally replaced it. After all this time...

"Are you heading home soon?" you ask, trying to feign nonchalance. You can't remember the last time you overthought every single thing you said to him.

Yes, you do, your brain mocks you. A film reel of your awkward senior year of high school starts playing in your mind and one lone thought sticks out among the cacophony of memories. You loved him.

"Yeah, I'm almost done," he says with a sigh, his eyes still trained on his paper.

You frown. "Really?"

"No."

That surprises a chuckle out of you and you lean forward in the chair. It's stiffer than you're used to, and it creaks as you slide in closer. "Want any help?"

He shakes his head. "You should head home. It's late."

You don't say anything and when he finally meets your eye, you shoot him a look.

He sighs, begrudgingly handing you a stack of files. "With JJ gone, it's been a little hectic. I have to go through the new cases coming in, as well as completing the post-case paperwork."

"Shit," you whisper, not knowing what else to say. Even as you tried to cut down his workload, it wasn't even scratching the surface. "I didn't realize that was all on you."

"Yeah, for the time being," he shrugs, raking a hand through his hair to push it back, even as it bounces right back into place. "But it'll be easier when they bring us someone new."

That stops you in your tracks. "How new? Because you know I really liked Jordan, but she was too green for the BAU."

"Newer," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "They're considering some Academy cadets who are finishing up their remedial training."

"Cadets?" you echo, your voice rising an octave. "They're babies."

"They're at least 25," he states, the corner of his lip twitching. "Besides, their remedial training would have been with the BAU, so they'll know what they're getting into."

They'll know what they're getting into.

It's not a dig, but the juvenile corner of your brain hangs onto his words, trying to make out some double meaning.

"That's some relief, I guess." You flip open the first file, trying to pay attention as you scan the brief, but it just reminds you of how much you miss JJ.

"She was so much better at this," you groan, flipping the page. "I'm not sure anyone can replace her."

"I'm definitely sure that no one can," Aaron says simply as he glances up at you, "but we'll take any help we can get at this point."

There's a layer of subtext behind his tone, and you don't know if you're equipped to decipher it right now, after being up for almost 24 hours. Nevertheless, you don't give in as he looks at you, refusing to break eye contact. 

Please be okay, your mind begs as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Please say I didn't fuck this all up.

His eyebrows raise slightly, checking in on you for the first time in so so long, and another thought takes over your mind. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Blinking away the thought, you nod, but you can't stop yourself as you clarify, "It's just a temp assignment, right?"

He finishes the sentence he was writing before looking up. "Yes. It's only temporary."

***

"Daddy, don't look at me."

Jack's voice filters out from his bedroom and he looks at Jess with a small laugh as she pretends to lock her lips and toss away the key.

"I'm not looking," he calls out. "Are you almost ready?"

There's a small sound of affirmation from down the hall, so he stands up from the couch and reaches for the little jack-o-lantern bag that Jack wanted to use for trick-or-treating.

When he looks up, his son is emerging from his room, dressed incredibly unlike the comic book character he wanted to be for Halloween.

"Whoa," Aaron says, his voice a low rumble. "That is definitely not Spider-Man."

Jack just shrugs. "He's not a real superhero."

"He's not?" He looks at his son again, trying to discern which superhero wears a suit. "Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?"

The answer is immediate. "I'm you, Daddy."

Jess nudges his shoulder with a laugh before she walks forward and swings Jack into the air. "You look just like him, bud!"

He opens his mouth to add onto that sentiment, but his throat thickens with emotion and he has to clear his throat to get a word out. "You tied my tie so well." It's the best he can do with his eyes burning. All he wanted was for his son to feel safe and loved. Maybe I'm doing something right.

"Alright, buddy," Jess smiles, setting him down. "Grab your coat and shoes and we'll head out."

Jack runs off and she smiles at him again, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're a great dad."

"Thank you," he says simply, his lips curving up into a smile. She says it a lot, but for the first time in a while, he's finally starting to believe it.

Jess opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses for an extra second, piquing his interest. "I haven't seen Y/N around here in a little bit."

There it is. He should've seen it coming. "Yeah, she's just busy."

His words don't sound convincing, even to his own ears, and Jess shoots him a look to match. "I happen to know you quite well, Aaron. So if you're overthinking something you shouldn't be, let me be the first to say, you're being an idiot."

He lets out a surprised snort. "Thanks, Jessica."

"I'm just saying," she shrugs, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "I see things...and I know both of you, so it's not hard to read into things."

He takes a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "It's not like that."

He expects her to push back, but she just presses her lips together and shrugs her coat on. "Either way, Haley saw it too...and she seemed happy about it."

Before he has a chance to fully process her words, Jack rushes out, barreling into him. "I'm ready!"

"Alright, my little G-man," he grins, pushing her words out of his head for the night. "Let's go get some candy."

***

Things have been shifting at the office. Ever since JJ left, the team has felt smaller, and with your unintentional (okay, maybe a little intentional) avoidance of Aaron, the office hasn't felt the same in a long time.

Everyone has been taking on more than they're used to, and when Penelope had to fill in for JJ in a press conference during your last case, you couldn't help but notice how she turned to Aaron for support whenever she felt unprepared.

Your curiosity about their shared secret was eating at you all day, until you received a mass email from him to the whole team. Re: Garcia's play, Tolgate Theater, 8pm

You didn't have any plans tonight anyway, and after long days in a seemingly endless rotation of slacks and blazers, you welcome the chance to dress up a little bit. It's not like you go out often (or at all) unless it's with the team.

Pushing to the back of your closet, you rifle through the longer dresses and gowns you own, before landing on a light green, silk number. It has a halter neckline that drapes loosely around your neck, and you haven't worn it since before Jeff died, because it always felt like too much.

But Emily messaged you after getting home with a photo of her dress too, and even though it may be a lot for a little neighborhood theater, you're excited about something for the first time in a long while.

After putting on the dress and doing your makeup a bit darker than usual, you grab your keys and head out.

~

He got to the theater a bit earlier than the rest of the team, mostly to apologize to Garcia and warn her about the onslaught of support she was going to be getting, but he also wanted to get there before you did, so he could save a seat for you beside him.

From an outsider's perspective, he imagines there wouldn't seem to be anything different or wrong with your relationship, but he has been feeling the frustrating tension between the two of you since that night out.

Speaking with Jess on Halloween felt like a welcome reprieve from his cycle of self-loathing, and he finally feels more free than he has in ages.

Emily, Derek, and Spencer arrive a short while later, and he points them toward the seats he booked out, before heading back to the lobby, where family and friends of the performers are milling around.

When Dave arrives, he's also dressed in a suit. "We certainly clean up nicely."

He coughs out a laugh. "I haven't pulled this suit out in years."

"Well, aside from the cobwebs," Dave jokes, brushing an imaginary piece of dust from his shoulder, "you look classy."

"Thanks," he smiles, patting the older man's arm. "You should head inside. We're sitting about halfway up."

"You coming?" Dave asks as he steps around him.

Aaron shakes his head, glancing back at the door again. "I'm going to wait for...everyone to get here. I'll meet you inside."

He nods, before smacking his shoulder once and walking into the theater. When Dave's out of sight, he turns back around and pulls his phone out, trying to look busy.

He scrolls through a couple of his latest emails before tucking his phone away. The front door of the theater opens then, and when he looks up, all of the air leaves his lungs.

It feels like the world is moving in slow motion as you glide inside, your dress billowing down as the breeze from outside settles. You look incredible, and he feels like a teenager again, when he was so in love with you he couldn't breathe.

He watches you glance around, clearly searching for a familiar face, so he walks up, approaching you slowly to give you time to notice him.

"Oh, hi!" you say, your lips curving up into a smile as he tucks a hand into his pocket. "Am I late?"

"Not at all," he says, hating how strained his voice sounds. "The play starts at the top of the hour."

"Perfect," you smile, removing your shawl from your shoulders and folding it in your hands. "You clean up well, by the way."

There's a slight tinge of humor in your voice, and you're looking at him expectantly, likely waiting for him to lead you to the seats, but he can't move. He's terrified of what he's feeling, but you look amazing, and he's surrounded by people he doesn't know, so he doesn't overthink it as he reaches out and slips a hand onto your waist.

You clearly aren't expecting it as he pulls you in closer, his fingers sliding across the silkiness of your dress. You smell like flowers, and he can't help himself as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "You're beautiful."

Reality doesn't set in until he lets you go. Your cheeks are slightly flushed and he can't think straight, but the moment you step away from him and head to theater doors, the fog clears.

What is he doing?

The rational part of his brain takes over and he mumbles a curse under his breath before jogging forward to follow you inside. At least for the time being, he has the play to cover himself, but when morning comes, and brings with it the harsh light of day, he's fucked.

***

His skin is burning. The temperature in his office feels like it has been turned all the way up, but even as he undoes his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves back, the heat doesn't abate.

He is loosening his tie when his office door opens, revealing you in your rumpled button down and slacks. He opens his mouth to ask why you're still here, but before he can get a word out, you're shutting the door behind you and locking it.

"What are you doing?" he asks as you saunter over to him, stepping around his desk and pressing your hands to the armrests of his chair. "Y/N, it's late-"

"Shut up," you say firmly, twisting his chair toward you with a strong pull. He moves to get up, but you push his shoulder down to keep him in his chair.

He already doesn't know what to say, but every thought leaves his brain as you sink down to your knees before him.

"Don't move," you whisper, your eyes glinting up at him as you deftly undo the buckle of his belt and yank his pants open. "I'm in charge now."

He lets out a gasp as you tug his pants down in one go, and before he can do anything, your fingers are on him. Your lips curve into a smile as his breath hitches, and even with the thin fabric of his boxers between you two, the sensations coursing through him feel so magnified and new.

He is already hard as a rock, and you've barely even touched him. Teasingly slow, you pull his boxers down, watching as his cock springs free from the confines. Without wasting another second, you run your tongue up his length, and he grits his teeth to keep the groans in his throat from spilling out.

Your lips slowly close around his tip and the wet heat makes his head fall back as he tries to calm his breathing down. His chest is heaving like he just went for a run, but when you hollow your cheeks around him, he can't keep the moan inside. He loses control for a moment as he reaches forward to grasp onto your hair, but that only seems to spur you on, as you bob your head even faster.

The wet sounds of your mouth sliding over his cock fill the office, and he clutches his armrest with one hand and uses the other to guide your head.

He's already so close, and the soft grip of your hands on his thighs aren't helping as he tries to hold off, to prolong this feeling. At the last second, you swirl your tongue around the tip, and he chokes out a gasp, but then-

His eyes fly open to the lonely darkness of his bedroom. The room is warmer than it usually is, and his skin feels sticky with sweat under his covers. His mind, on the other hand...

He doesn't remember every moment of the dream, but the message was clear enough. His boxers are still tight from the memory, and he tries as hard as he can to think about anything else, but he keeps going back to the image of you, in front of him, kneeling-

Throwing the covers off, he sits up quickly and climbs out of bed, needing to clear his head in the only effective way he knows of. He shrugs his clothes off on the way to the bathroom, and he turns the shower on, making the water steaming hot, before stepping inside. The steam fogs up the glass around him, but he can still see the bare outline of his shame in the mirror across from the shower.

But now isn't the time, not with his skin burning and his cock pulsing in his hand. He pumps a few times as the hot water cascades over him, trying to set a rhythm, but it doesn't feel right. He keeps nearing the edge before the wave pulls back, and he lets out a soft groan in frustration as he presses his forehead to the glass.

Just once, he thinks as he grips himself again, his mind shifting back to his dream. Only this once.

His brain fills with the images from earlier: you on your knees, your mouth warm and wet over him, the pinpricks of sweat across the swells of your chest where your shirt was unbuttoned. He pictures your mouth as he ruts into his own hand, pretending, wishing, it was you instead.

It only takes a few more pumps before he finishes, spilling onto the white floor of his shower. The energy leaves him as he slumps against the wall, twisting the knob to a cooler setting, before shutting it off completely.

He still has a few more hours of sleep left before he has to get up for work, but he spends all night tossing and turning in the wide, empty expanse of his bed.

***

"What do you think he meant?"

"Maybe it's like a new manual, or guidebook."

"What are you two on about?" You walk up to your desk and slump down into the chair as Emily and Spencer look up with meek smiles.

Spencer is the first to crack. "We were discussing what Hotch might have meant by a 'different tactic' to solve this case in New Mexico."

You frown. "The gated community one? I thought Dave was just flying over ahead of us to get a head start."

"Nope," Emily shakes her head, before turning around. "He's in Hotch's office right now."

You look up just as Aaron and Dave exit the office and begin their descent down the stairs. Dave is ahead of him, with a big smile on his face, as he pushes past all of you.

It's only after you turn around that you realize who he's looking at. The woman he pulls into a hug is young - Academy cadet young - and she's pretty too.

"Ashley!" Rossi exclaims as he lets her go.

Hotch walks up behind them and shakes her hand. "Agent trainee Seaver is on loan to us from the Academy."

He introduces her to each of you, and you reach forward to shake her hand, a big smile on your face. After he told you that the bureau was considering someone new, you have had your guard up, but you don't want to make a bad impression in case she's here to stay.

"It's great to meet all of you," she says with a meek smile.

You pat her shoulder before walking past her to speak with Aaron about whether Seaver was the the new addition he was talking about. But when you lift your hand to get his attention, he turns away without looking at you, and leads Rossi out of the bullpen.

~

In the New Mexico gated community where three women have been murdered so far, Emily and Derek split off to check out the last crime scene, so you stay with the rest of the team and Seaver at one of the model homes to go through the evidence.

You can't help but notice how Spencer's eyes keep flitting over to the new girl, and a grin crosses your lips as you nudge his shoulder later.

"You totally have a thing for the new girl."

"Wha-what, no?!" he sputters, his face twisting into an unconvincing frown. "I don't even know her."

You just shrug. "You can still think she's pretty."

"That's irrelevant," he mutters, nudging you back and grabbing one of the files in front of him. "Do you think we can trust the local police?"

"I don't know," you sigh, letting him change the subject. "We definitely can't rule them out, especially in a community as clustered as this."

You glance across the room to Aaron and Dave, who are standing hunched over a laptop with the local detective. They're brows are all equally furrowed, and Aaron looks so focused you doubt he would hear you if you yelled his name right now.

Dropping the file onto the counter, you step around Reid and walk over to the trio, listening in as they start speaking.

"You interviewed every adult male in the community?"

The detective nods. "More than once. They're all digitized."

Aaron glances up as you approach, but when he realizes who it is, his eyes dart back to the screen. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds, and he sees a frown cross your face out of his periphery. Fuck. He has to be more careful. You're a fucking profiler, for god's sake.

"Were all the interviews confrontational like this?" you ask as you come up beside him. He can feel the warmth of your arm inches away from his, and he leans his weight to the other side, trying not to think about his dream while you're standing this close to him.

"Is that wrong?"

Rossi raises his eyebrow. "You didn't get much out of them, did you?"

The detective shakes his head before skipping to the next interview, and everyone leans in closer to get a better look. With four of you surrounding the screen, it's harder to see, and when you press your hand to his shoulder to balance yourself, he all but flinches back from your touch.

The movement is harsh enough that everyone but the detective notices. His eyes fly to you as shock and confusion cross your face, and before anyone can say anything, he mutters something that sounds like 'sorry' before rushing out of the model home.

~

You're chasing after him the moment he's out of sight. Dave reaches forward to catch your arm but you shake him off, rushing out of the house and onto the street, which has been cleared by the local police since you arrived.

"Aaron!" you call out as he walks ahead of you, his hand raking through his hair. To his credit, he comes to a stop the moment he hears your voice, and you catch up to him quickly, stopping just short of him on the sidewalk. "What is going on? I thought we were okay?"

His eyes close for a beat, before his face hardens into a steely calm. You can no longer pretend like everything's fine. It hasn't been for a long time - not since the bar, and maybe even before - but you've always been good at compartmentalizing what you don't want to feel. With your mom, and Jeff, and Haley, you could push down the hurt until it dissolved into your bloodstream, spreading everywhere. It wore you down and thinned you out, but at least it wasn't overwhelming.

Looking at him now - your best friend, the man you...love. Your breath catches in your throat and he shakes his head, not looking at you. "What do you mean, Y/N?"

You wish you could keep pretending, like he seems to be able to, but it's just not fair anymore. Not to him, and especially not to you. "No, don't do this. Don't act like I'm the only one who sees how wrong this has been for the last few months. I used to talk to you everyday, Aaron. We've barely spoken in weeks!"

His face cracks for a moment and you see the glimmer of pain in his eyes before the wall comes up again. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" you yell, your tone more forceful than you expect. "What are you sorry for, Aaron?"

He looks at you then, the facade falling away as your words sink in. The lines of pain and tension settle in and you're almost relieved that he's finally showing you the truth instead of hiding away what he's feeling. But then the despair returns as his lips thin into a line, unable to answer your question.

"What," you repeat, your words tinged with malice, "are you sorry for?"

He whispers your name softly, like it's an apology on it's own, before using his next words to tear you to pieces. "Don't make me say it."

A soft gasp leaves your mouth and you involuntarily take a step back, like he's slapped you in the face. He runs a hand over his neck and a sudden feverish anger rushes through you as you shake your head, blinking back tears. "Don't do that. I know it's not just me, Aaron. It's not-"

"Please," he whispers suddenly, cutting you off. "Please don't do this."

It's almost like he's begging you, and you jerk back, unable to look at him. Men have hurt you before, in so many ways, but nothing has ever cut deeper than this. You don't think your bullet wound hurt this much, and at least then you had him to support you. Now you're all alone.

The aching heartbreak hits you all at once and you brush a loose tear off your cheek before turning around and leaving him out on the sidewalk, watching you walk away.

***

"Something's up."

Penelope bumps Emily's shoulder to grab her attention. After a second, she looks up from her desk. "What was that?"

"Something," Penelope repeats, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Aaron, "is up. Y/N and Hotch haven't looked at each other in like four days. Earlier, she was talking to someone on the stairs and he literally walked out of his office and then back inside again."

Emily looks at her. "Are you sure you aren't reading into anything?"

Penelope shoots her a look that can only mean 'you're kidding, right?' "They're inseparable. Something must have happened in the last few weeks that we don't know about."

Before she can stop her, Penelope stands up and barrels over to you, with Emily on her heels like an owner who just dropped her dog's leash.

"Y/N!" Penelope calls out as she approaches you. You look up from your desk with a frown, before your face breaks into a forced smile that both of them can see through immediately. "We wanted to catch up."

You glance at Emily, who shrugs, earning a look of chagrin from the other agent.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" you ask, your forehead crinkling in a manner reminiscent of your boss.

Penelope pauses for a moment, like she's trying to think. "Uhh, I'm not sure. Maybe about...you and Hotch?"

"Subtle," Emily mutters under her breath as your face scrunches into a confused frown. "She just means that you two have seemed kind of off lately, and we were wondering if everything was okay."

You press your lips together, unsure of how to broach this topic, even with some of your closest friends. "It's nothing."

That pulls a frown from both of them, and you sigh, doubling down on your feigned nonchalance. "It's really nothing, guys. I just...can't see him right now."

You turn back to your work and Emily and Penelope share a look, twin realizations clicking in both of their minds. They rush back to Penelope's office, and Emily shuts the door behind them, before they both blurt out something that sounds like: "We all know what's going on here."

"We have to make him jealous," Emily agrees with a nod.

She pulls open her desk drawer and pulls out her address book. "I have just the thing."

***

"I messed up, Haley."

The ground is hard from the chilly December air, and he sits uncomfortably on the familiar granite bench before her grave. There is a bouquet of dried-up flowers leaning against her headstone, and he doesn't have to think too hard to figure out who they're from.

"I'm trying not to," he whispers, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets to warm them up, "but I keep messing up."

A cool breeze wafts over him and the rustle of the nearby trees feels like an acknowledgement. Like she's really listening.

"She hates me," he sighs, his chin dropping to his chest as he shuts his eyes. The wind picks up slightly, and it's like he can hear Haley's voice in his head. She doesn't hate you. She's hurt.

"I know." He runs a gloved hand over his face, the cold sending a small shiver through his body. "It's my fault. I just don't know what to do or how to fix it."

Her reply in his mind is almost immediate.Yes you do.

He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot for talking to himself, even though it's helping him work through his emotions. "I don't. I really don't."

For a few moments, all he can hear is the rustle of tree branches and the low whistle of the wind blowing around the headstones. You have to tell her how you feel.

His chest tightens and he lifts his face, letting the cold air sting his skin, like some kind of penance. "Don't you think I want to? Every time I look at her, I'm terrified it's going to come out, but I can't say it." He takes a deep breath as the words start to flow out. He hasn't said them out loud to anyone, but right here feels like the safest place to let them out. "I love her."

Three simple words and it's like a weight lifts off of his chest. He still doesn't have the answers, but at least he can admit it to himself.  "I'm in love with her, Hales. The only person in this world that I love more is Jack."

He can practically see her smile as he glances down at her name etched in stone. Then what's the problem.

"I'm gonna fuck it up. I always do." The words come out before he has a chance to think, almost like they've been sitting on the tip of his tongue for ages. He looks down at the ground again, imagining her sitting in front of him. "I did with you."

This time, his mind doesn't have the answer for him. He's finally in a good place with his son, and with the addition of Seaver to the team, his work load has been marginally cut back, so he doesn't really have an excuse anymore. It's just his fear of losing one of the only good things in his life that keeps holding him back.

But you're already losing her. 

It's his own voice berating him this time, instead of Haley's. 

You're trying so hard to hold her at arm's length that you haven't even noticed that she has stopped pushing her way in.

The wind rushes over him and he looks at the headstone again, his eyes tracing over Haley's name one more time, before he stands up and walks back down the hill.

***

Dave's annual new year's eve party has always been a fairly large spectacle, but when Aaron leads Jack up his driveway that evening, the sheer number of (expensive) cars lined up outside is nearly staggering.

He knew it wouldn't just be the team here tonight, but he wasn't expecting the sheer scale of the party, especially while his mind has been so pre-occupied with the prospect of seeing you outside of work for the first time in weeks. 

The front door is unlocked when they reach the top of the porch, so he carefully pushes it open and leads Jack inside. He's only an hour late, but the hallways are already crowded with groups milling around, having loud conversations with a drink in their hand.

He doesn't recognize anyone until he gets to the kitchen, where he sees the rest of the team (minus Dave) chatting around a small snack table.

"Y/N!" Jack shrieks when he sees you, letting go of his hand immediately and running forward. You turn at the sound of his voice, and your face breaks out into a wide smile as the boy barrels over and throws his arms around you.

"Jack-o-lantern!" you gush, lifting him up and hugging him, your eyes falling shut as you squeeze the boy tightly.

Any onlooker can tell that his son loves you. For a while after Haley's death, Jack was closed off to every female figure in his life - even Jess - but he never shied away from you.

I love you, a voice in the back of his mind whispers as you set Jack down and press a kiss to the top of his head. I love you I love you I love you.

~

After Dave returned from the back patio and whisked away Aaron and Jack to meet some of his other friends, you loitered around the kitchen for a while, chatting with Derek and Spencer about their resolutions for the new year.

You're refilling your glass with some diluted punch when JJ and Emily sneak up behind you with matching mischievous expressions. 

"What did you guys do?" you ask, gulping back some punch in preparation for whatever they're about to spring on you.

"There's someone we want you to meet," Emily grins as she reaches forward to loop her arm through yours.

"Oh, no way," you say, already shaking your head before they can elaborate. "You are not setting me up with some random bureau guy again."

"That was only one time," JJ pouts, before beckoning to the hallway across from the kitchen. You glance over her shoulder and spot Will standing with a man you've never seen before. "I had Will bring one of his single friends tonight. He's an architect, and he's super smart and super cute. Totally your type."

You raise an eyebrow as you inspect the man from across the room. He's definitely easy on the eyes, but he's also not your type. There's only one man who fits into that box.

"I don't know," you sigh, setting your glass down on the table behind you. "It's very sudden."

"C'mon," Emily urges, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It'll be good. Just talk and flirt a little, and if you're into it then you have a new year's kiss locked up!"

Kissing someone you just met in front of all of your colleagues sounds like nightmare fuel, but you can't think of another way to get your friends off your back. "Okay, fine, I'll meet him."

~

After leaving Jack with Henry and the other children, he heads back into the main section of the house, hoping to run into you. He doesn't know what he would say if he does, but anything is better than the avoidance game you've been playing.

He sees Penelope and JJ first, but you're not with them, so he continues forward, deftly stepping around throngs of people conversing in little pockets around the house. 

"Hotch, over here!"

He whips around to find Derek, Will, and Dave waving him over to join them in the kitchen. He grabs a piece of cheese off a platter on his way over, and Derek pats him on the back when he reaches the three of them. 

They return to their prior topic of conversation, and he tunes them out as his eyes dart around the room, still looking for you. He's about to give up when he spots the familiar hue of your hair down the hall. His lips curve up in a small smile as he watches you lean your head back with a big laugh that he swears he can hear even from all the way over here. He's about to excuse himself from the guys when a hand reaches out to gently touch your forearm, and you don't shake it off.

It's only then that he notices the man you're talking to, and how enamored he looks as you burst into another bout of laughter. Something that feels like ice settles in the pit of his stomach and he turns back to the guys just as they notice what he's been looking at.

"They seem to be hitting it off," Will grins, crossing his arms over his chest. "My friend's a good guy, and he mentioned wanting to meet her after they crossed paths at one of me and JJ's dinner parties."

He notices Dave glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't bear to look at the older man, for fear that he'll give something away. Aaron feels the nauseating pit of jealousy in his stomach, but it's not fair. He pushed you away.

He turns away from you and tries to focus on literally anything else, but it's not long before he's unable to fight the urge to look at you from his spot in the kitchen. You can't see him watching you, and it gives him the obscurity he needs to observe you from afar, but it also makes it much more conspicuous to his friends.

You don't leave the company of Will's friend until much later in the night, and soon it's almost midnight. The countdown starts as everyone in the house lifts their glasses and latches onto their significant others.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

He's turning before he knows what he's doing. He can't help it, it's almost magnetic, the pull you have on him. 

You're not looking at him, and he can only see your side profile as you glance up at the clock as it ticks down.

"Five, four, three, two..."

He turns away at the last second, unable to stomach the thought of you kissing someone else, but when the crowd erupts into cheers, he looks back to find that you're gone. His heart rates spikes and he pushes through people, ignoring the pats on his back as people wish him a "Happy new year". 

He eventually spots you through the back windows, and he steps out into the frigid air to accompany you on the back porch steps. You're sitting on the top step, your bare arms wrapped around your body for some semblance of warmth, and for a moment, he can't move.

He can't decide if he should go to you or let you have the space you so clearly wanted, but then a voice in the back of his skull yells at him through all the noise. She's your best friend in the world. A few months ago, the answer would have been obvious.

A switch flips and he steps forward, sliding off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You let out a soft sigh as he sinks down next to you, and he watches as your eyes glisten in the lamplight. 

You don't look at him as you press your elbows into your knees and rub a hand over your neck. "How did this get so fucked up?"

He sighs too, a heavy sound. "I don't know." 

He's still looking at you, at the tears in your eyes, when you finally take a deep breath and turn to face him. A tear slips down your cheek and his brain fires off sparks again. I love you, I love you, I love you.

He wants to say it so badly, but then the newest factor in all of his confusion jumps back into the forefront. The Pakistan assignment. He has been trying to push it off, but he's getting so much pressure from the brass, and that's just one more thing he's hiding from you. 

He breaks your eye contact and you let out a slow breath, almost like you felt him lose his nerve in real time. Without another word, you wipe the tears from your face and stand up, leaving him out in the cold once again.

***

The bureau gives you a week off at the start of the new year, but you can't enjoy any of your alone time. Every second you let your mind wander, your thoughts are invaded by the look on his face as he turned away from you. 

You had seen it in his eyes out there, in the freezing cold air as the clock struck midnight. At least a small part of him felt for you the same way you felt for him. But it's not enough.

You've been alone for so many years. When you married Jeff, you were done. You didn't think you'd have to ever feel this kind of heartbreak again, but now that you feel that kind of love again, you refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. And what you deserve is someone who can show you how he feels. 

Nevertheless, you can't control your subconscious. 

That's why you're laying in bed at the end of the week, staring at your nightlight across the room and somehow managing to simultaneously miss him and hate him. It's well past midnight and you can't sleep, but you don't want to give in to the urge that's been tugging at your gut all night. 

You're so angry with him, but he's also the only person you want to talk to when you're feeling anything you can't explain. It only takes another minute before you're giving in and snatching your phone off your bedside table.

It rings for a long time before he finally answers. 

He whispers your name softly, his voice gravelly as though he just woke up. He sounds confused, but it has to mean something that he answered his phone at this hour.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks, his voice still a bit gruff from the tiredness. "What's wrong?"

I miss you, you want to say. Instead, you panic and ask the first question that pops into your head: "Why do you think The Beatles broke up?"

The line goes silent for a moment before he sighs quietly. "Everyone blames Yoko but you know I think they just stopped working well together creatively." 

"It was probably Lennon deciding to leave the band," you say, unsure where you're going with this. "Yeah, that makes the most sense."

"Maybe," he says, his voice a low hum.

There's no tinge of impatience or irritation in his tone, but you still feel awful for waking him up in the early hours of the morning to chat about a band. 

You take a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what you're about to say, but the breath catches in your throat as a small sob escapes. "I'm so mad at you."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, before Aaron exhales sharply. "I know."

Your resolve fades almost immediately and you sink back into your pillows. "I'm not mad at you." He quietly huffs out a laugh, but you can tell his heart isn't in it. "I'm hurt, and yeah, I'm kind of mad at you, but the only person I want to talk to is you."

You can hear his breath stutter over the speaker, and he rears up to say something, before thinking better of it. "It's late, Y/N. You should go to bed."

"Yeah," you say eventually, rubbing tears of frustration from your eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah."

"No," he says quickly, his voice hurried as though he's afraid you'll hang up. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you called."

Your heart flutters pathetically. "Okay."

"Why were you up anyway?" he asks after a moment.

You shrug, even though he can't see you, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. "Couldn't sleep."

Something that sounds like a quiet chuckle floats into your ears. "Try turning off that massive nightlight."

Your eyes widen and you inadvertently glance over at the beacon of light plugged in across the room. "What nightlight?"

He hums again. "Goodnight, Y/N." I love you.

"Goodnight, Aaron." I love you too.

***

It started when Emily arrived late to the briefing. She was never late, so that itself was enough to set off your alarms, but then you noticed her fingers. She's biting her nails again.

Aaron finishes briefing you all about the two families murdered in house fires in the DC area, before you disperse and head back to your desks to read up about the evidence.

When you drop your bag down and sink into your chair, you don't miss how Spencer visibly flinches in his seat, his eyes twitching with exhaustion.

"Sorry, Spence," you say earnestly, turning to him with an anxious look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he answers quickly, his eyes darting back down to the case file. "I'm... I'm...I'm sure these victims overlap somehow. Garcia pulled their phone numbers, but so far I can't find anything."

You've been working with him long enough to notice when he's deflecting, especially when he's doing such a bad job of it. "Spencer, you just jumped."

He takes a deep breath and you're suddenly grateful that his shorter haircut allows you to get a better view of his expression, even with his head down. "I've been having these really intense headaches lately." "Have you seen a doctor?" you ask, sliding your chair in to get a better look at him. "Yeah, a few. None of them have been able to figure it out." "I'm sorry," you say genuinely as guilt and shame flood your veins. You've been so preoccupied with your own drama that you haven't been paying any attention to your friends. First Emily, and now Spencer. "Does anyone know?"

His lips press into an adorable line. "You." "I won't tell anyone," you assure him, your eyebrows scrunching down. "I'm glad you're telling me now." "I know," he nods. "I just didn't want you to worry."

"I won't make a big deal out of it," you tell him, your lips curving up in a playful smile, "if that's what you were worried about."

"Thanks," he mutters, but you can tell his heart isn't really in it.

It's been so long since you sat down and caught up with your teammates, and given how weird Emily has been acting, you figure it's about time. 

~

"Have you noticed anything off with Emily?"

It's Penelope who comes to you first about the change in your teammate's disposition. You had clocked the small jab Emily had thrown at her after the briefing, but didn't want to intrude in case it was personal. You're starting to realize it might be a lot more personal than you originally thought.

"I have," you say simply, glancing back at her across the bullpen. Her head is down and her shoulders are hunched forward as she quickly types something out on her phone. 

She waits for another moment before jolting upright and standing up. Before either of you can get a chance to ask what's wrong, she is jetting off to the bathroom.

"I got this one," you tell Penelope before strutting off to follow her.

She's looking at her phone again when the bathroom door shuts behind you, and you approach her slowly so as not to spook her. "Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. You sped out of there."

"I'm fine," she says, trying to brush away your worry with a wave of her hand.

You frown, taking a step forward. "Are you sure? I noticed you've been biting your-"

"Don't profile me, Y/N," she snaps, her head turning to level you with a glare that would have scared the shit out of you if you didn't know her so well. It doesn't last long though, and before you can get another word out, she's already apologizing. "I'm sorry. I-I'm gonna be alright. I promise. I'm just having this nightmare."

She details her dream to you, and the profiler in you can't help but relate it to her own lack of trust, but then she looks at you with a genuine smile and you just have to smile back.

"Somehow, you.." she pauses for a beat. "You always make me feel better. I don't think I've ever thanked you for that."

Her words feel so final, like she's saying goodbye, and a bolt of terror shoots through you before you decide you're being dramatic.

She's your friend. She's gonna be alright.

~

Emily's gone. She slipped out during Aaron's multi-agency task force briefing, and none of you noticed.

How could you not have noticed?

You're kicking yourself as Spencer pulls out a sheet of paper from one of Emily's contacts, with a list of undercover names all with the initials L.R. 

"Prentiss is the last name on the list," Rossi deduces as you mentally check back into the conversation. Your eyes scan the board with the name 'Lauren Reynolds' written at the top. "That means she's on Doyle's list too."

"Guys," Aaron calls out from Emily's desk, holding up her things in his hands, "she left her badge and gun."

"Why would she do that?" Penelope asks, her voice small like a child's. "We're her family."

That's when you finally find your voice. "She ran to protect us." You turn to Aaron then, your eyes flashing over his like it's the first time you've ever really looked at him. "How do we find her?"

"We need to profile their behavior," he instructs, moving to the front board. "Doyle is our unsub and Prentiss is our victim. We treat it like any other case." 

There's the small sound of a door opening and Aaron looks up, beckoning his chin to the back. "Because terrorism isn't an area we specialize in, I've reached out to an expert from the State Department...someone who can also shed light on Prentiss' past."

You whip around to the sight of a familiar head of blonde hair walking into the briefing room. The tension in your shoulders abates for a split second as gratitude cascades over you. God, you missed her.

JJ saunters forward and nods at each of you, her expression already rigid with concentration. "Let's get to work."

~

Profiling Emily takes you all to Boston, where the evidence from the previous victims adds up to the conclusion that Doyle is a family annihilator. When you also find out that he has a secret son, you and Derek lead the team to the warehouse where the son was last taken, in the hopes that Emily would have made the same connection.

The sound of a loud crash sends you running, but Derek is faster and he gets there before you. You enter the back room to find Emily bleeding out on the floor, a large wooden post stuck through her abdomen.

"I got her!" he yells into his comms before pressing his hands onto her wound. "Prentiss. It's me, I'm right here."

She mumbles something that sounds like his name and your chest floods with relief. You step out of the room to call for a medic, but when you get back, she isn't moving.

"Emily!" Derek yells as you sink to your knees beside him. Your pants are wet with her blood, and it feels like ice against your skin. How can there be so much blood in the human body? 

"Come on," he pleads, tightening his grip on her hand. "Stay with me!"

"Emily, please," you whisper, your throat hoarse from the unshed tears. You press your fingers to her pulse. "Please."

The medics come eventually, and she is taken to the hospital, where the whole team is holed up in the waiting room. Spencer hasn't stopped pacing since she was taken into surgery and you can't seem to take your face out of your hands, even as people press comforting pats on your shoulders. 

You don't notice anything going on around you until JJ comes back from speaking with the doctor with tears in her eyes. No, oh god no.

You barely register her words as she whispers, "She never made it off the table."

It's only then that you stand up. You're not sure what you're planning to do, but as soon as you try to move, your legs start shaking, like you're slipping in quicksand. Aaron steps towards you just as your body gives out and you collapse onto him, quiet sobs bubbling out of your throat.

"She was just here," you cry into his chest while you clutch his shirt as though your life depends on it. "How can she be gone?"

His hands rub comforting circles into your back as his arms tighten around you, keeping you upright, and you can't help but imagine that this picture looks vaguely reminiscent of his home last year when you held him up as he broke down. 

Emily's gone.

You can't even remember why you were so angry with him before. Everything outside of this moment feels so trivial, like you've been wasting so much time. You need him now, and you're so thankful he's here to hold you up even though his pain is just as big as yours.

Aaron wraps himself tighter around you, fighting the tears that are rushing forward, because they just aren't fair. His whole team is falling apart in front of him, and he's one of two people here who knows the truth.

You choke out another sob and he tugs you upward, helping you stand again as you wipe the tears from your face. Out of the corner of his periphery, he sees JJ pull Spencer into a hug, and she meets his eye over the younger agent's shoulder. So much pain.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you ask suddenly, your voice so small he's sure he's the only person who can hear you. "How are we supposed to keep going?"

The familiar echoing emptiness of guilt swallows him whole and he sucks in a sharp breath in a futile effort to keep himself from drowning. Your glistening eyes are so wide with despair, and he pulls you back into his arms, mostly for comfort, but also because he can't stand to see you in pain for much longer. When he finally finds his voice, all that comes out is, "I don't know."

***

You can barely remember the funeral. 

When you try to think about it, there are flashes of white gloves and red roses and rough, brown dirt, but the only thing that really sticks out is the pressure of Aaron's hand over yours as you stood in front of her casket while they lowered her into the ground.

So many funerals, so many gravestones. The eery familiarity that has made you numb to the loss, even as it threatens to tear you apart each time you let yourself think about her.

It has become a regular passage in the story of your life: meet someone new, learn to love again, and then lose them.

Tears prick your eyes as you settle into the stiff wooden chair in your kitchen. The team has been organizing impromptu get-togethers all month, mostly at the last minute and usually late at night. That's when the loneliness hits the hardest. 

You figure you should be used to it by now. Deep down, you know it's not something anyone ever gets used to, but believing that the pain will abate is easier than realizing it'll always be there, buried in your bones. 

The pain of your mother's death is still a phantom bruise under your skin, always there, but never at the forefront until you press hard enough. Losing Jeff was a whole other monster, hiding under your bed and within the confines of your mind, ready to pounce the moment you closed your eyes. Haley, on the other hand, was a fresh wound; sometimes, you still aren't sure that the gash has fully closed, but with time it has gotten easier to pretend that things aren't awful all the time.

You wipe a loose tear from your cheek as you check your phone messages and tidy up some of the plates from your table. Aaron came over last night, and you both sat in silence for a long time, until a photo of Emily on your computer brought you to tears again. He held you for hours as you shook in his arms, trying to keep yourself together, but ultimately failing.

The silver lining of his renewed presence in your life doesn't feel as sweet as it should, given the circumstances, but you'll take any win you can get. If nothing else, you missed the feel of his arms around you.

You flinch as the dishes clink together loudly when you set them in the sink, and you watch the water dribble from the faucet for a long time, pretending that all you see isn't her blood.

***

He doesn't know what to do. He wants to be there for you more than anything else in this world, but seeing you break down is like being stabbed all over again, only this time it's his own fault. 

When you called last night, he couldn't stay away. He misses you like he's missing a limb, and even if he wanted to stop himself from seeing you, he knows he couldn't. Your grief has brought you back to him, but it feels wretched, even as he shoves aside his guilt for an evening to comfort you at this low.

He had lost count of the number of work-related things he had kept from Haley when they were married, but he always had the excuse that she didn't need to know. That her life would be better without the knowledge of all the horrors that circled them everyday. 

He doesn't have the same excuse with you. You are well-acquainted with the tragedies that life brings, and if it was up to him, he would spill every secret he has ever hidden, because he loves you, and you're one of the last people in this world who still trusts him, and he's so scared that after this, he'll lose that too. 

But he keeps his mouth shut. And when Garcia invites him to a get-together at your place, he politely declines, because if he knows you all have each other, then he can take one night off from the debilitating guilt he somehow still hasn't learned to shoulder after all these years.

***

"Come on in."

Spencer, Derek, and Penelope shuffle into your house, handing you bottles of wine and bags of assorted snacks, before plopping down on your couch and making themselves at home. They've been over so many times in the last few weeks that you figure it basically is their second home at this point, not that you mind. 

None of you want to be alone, and that's why it works.

"What are we watching tonight?" Derek asks, his voice nonchalant, like it's just another movie night with your colleagues. He always starts the night acting like everything's fine, and it really irked you the first time he came over, until you realized it was a front that he just needed time to shed. "Didn't you say last time that you have the original Jaws DVD?"

"What if we watched The Empire Strike Back?" Spencer asks timidly from under a slew of blankets that Penelope has covered both of them with. His nightly ritual involves suggesting one of his favorite movies, even though it always gets immediately shot down. 

Derek chuffs, snagging some of the blanket from off your lap. "Maybe another night, kid."

"I don't care what we watch," Penelope sighs as she pulls open a bag of popcorn and chucks a handful into her mouth, "as long as it isn't sad." That's her only request. Nothing sad, please. Your nightly ritual is like a practiced dance. Each of you playing your parts, reciting your lines the same way, keeping it familiar. Establishing a routine.

You stand up, taking your cue, and grab a random DVD from your cabinet. Ten minutes later, you're all watching The Empire Strikes Back, and Spencer cracks something that looks like a smile for the first time since before the funeral.

You watch the movie in silence, and when the credits roll, you watch the names scroll over the screen as you muster up the energy to find the remote. When you finally click the TV off, the silence feels suffocating, and you hear Penelope sniffle from next to you.

Throwing your arm around her shoulder, you all squish yourselves together, like the pressure will keep the emotions in. 

After a long pause, Spencer is the first to speak. "It'll get better, right?" 

"It has to," Derek sighs, his chin falling to his chest as he takes in a deep breath. You know him well enough to be able to translate his exasperation into anguish, even as he tries to hide it.

"It will get better." You glance around the couch at your friends - the people who have been here for you through all of it - and nod your head, choosing this moment to really believe it. "It will."

***

It doesn't.

A week later, you are storming into Aaron's apartment after he dropped Jack off to stay with Jess, your words already pouring out even before he can shut the door behind you.

"How could you take the assignment?"

Your tone is laced with malice, but he can still hear the hurt underneath.

"How could you leave us here after everything that happened?"

This time the pain is clearer. Your voice breaks at the end and he steps forward to do something, but you twist your body away.

His hands fall hopelessly back to his sides and he doesn't know how to explain this to you, when he can't even explain it to himself.

"Strauss left your brief in the conference room." Your words are stronger now, and he looks up, his eyes squinting with anticipation. "You've known about this since before the new year."

You're right. He's known about the prospect of this assignment for almost a year, and then after, when it became a real possibility, he still chose not to tell you. Maybe before, he had the excuse that you weren't speaking to him, but after Emily...he doesn't have a leg to stand on.

"Why wouldn't you tell us?" you ask, the anguish coming forward in full force. "We need you here. Jack needs you. I need you."

He needs you too. But he also needs to stop hurting you. And he can't see that happening while he's still here.

"I'm sorry," he whispers softly. I love you, I'm sorry.

You let out a sigh and your shoulders fall, like you've lost all of the fight within you. You look so defeated, and it feels worse than when you were yelling at him. 

You're right here, but you feel so far away, like he's looking at you through tinted glass.

"Fine," you say after a beat. "Call me when you're leaving."

Your shoulder brushes his as you whip past him, and he doesn't muster up the courage to speak again until you're already gone.

***

The call comes soon. Too soon.

You meet him at his apartment, and Jack immediately gives you a hug before latching himself back onto his father. You don't know what Aaron told him, given how you don't even know how long he's going to be gone, but you can't imagine it was helpful to a six year old boy who only understands that his father is leaving for a long time.

"I called Jess to pick him up," Aaron explains in a hushed whisper as Jack runs out to get his shoes, "but she's busy until the afternoon."

"That's okay," you say, crossing your arms in front of you. It's a defensive maneuver that's about all you can muster up right now. "I can drop him off at her house after we get you out of here."

You try to say it lightly, but your tone sharpens at the end, making him flinch. You sigh, an apology in itself, because you're trying so hard to be supportive. You know you're mad at him - no matter how hard you try not to be - but this isn't the time to show your anger.

Jack comes back into the living room, and you usher the young boy out the door as Aaron lugs his duffel bags behind you and out to the car. The drive is mostly silent, and Jack doesn't say a word until you help him out of his carseat and onto the tarmac at the base. 

"I'm gonna miss you, Daddy," he whispers, his little hands reaching up to grab his father's hand. "Come home soon."

Aaron picks him up and squeezes him in a big hug, before setting him back down on the ground. He looks at you then and you shrug, pressing your lips together. "What he said."

"I don't know how long this is going to take," he says, mostly directing his words at Jack, even though he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Probably a few months though."

A few months. That shouldn't feel as long as it does. 

"Bye buddy," he says then, kneeling down to hug his son again. "Go sit in Y/N's car so I can talk to her about some grown up stuff for a minute."

Jack bounces back to where your car is parked, and you watch him get in before turning back to look at Aaron. There's a resoluteness in his expression that shouldn't surprise you, given how driven he is by his sense of duty, but it still catches you off guard.

"You'll be okay there?" you ask, needing to get that out of the way before the rest of it.

He nods, before inching his hand forward to brush against yours. It's a small gesture, but you're not ready yet.

"I'm still angry," you whisper, pulling your hand back slightly. "I don't want to be, because you're leaving, and I want you to have a clear head out there, but I can't help it."

"It's okay," he says softly, his brow furrowing.

"No," you sigh, shaking your head. Your throat is thickening with the threat of tears and you don't want to cry in front of him now either, but there are too many emotions swirling around your brain to keep any of them straight. "I'm not really mad, okay. I know you're trying to do the right thing, but she's gone, and the team is not okay right now, and I need to find a way to handle it on my own."

I can't do it by myself, you want to say. I'm in love with you and you're making it seem so easy to leave me here to shoulder the burden of everyone's grief.

"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice softer this time. 

You're so much better than me, he thinks as he watches you stand so stoically before him. I love you and I can't bear to see you in pain when I'm part of the reason why.

"It's okay," you repeat after a beat. Then you reach forward and take his hand, like he tried to do earlier. His hand is warm and calloused, and it feels rough against your palm, but it grounds you, tethering you to this moment. "I'll see you when you get back."

He nods, before pulling you forward gently into a hug. Your chin tilts up to sit on his shoulder and he squeezes you to him once before letting you go.

When he lifts his bags and walks toward the loading ramp, Jack leaps out of the car and grabs your hand as you both wave goodbye.

He flashes you both one last smile before waving back and disappearing into the plane.

***

The first month is the easiest. You let the futile anger take over; let yourself pretend that you don't actually miss him. 

Seeing Jack and Jess makes it less painful, and you slowly find yourself spending more time with them than at home. Jess tries to spend time with Jack at Aaron's apartment to help him maintain a stable environment, but with his father gone, it doesn't help you notice the absence less.

"He's not eating as much," Jess mentions to you one night after she puts him to bed and joins you out in the living room. At first, being at his place without him felt intrusive, but you've gotten used to being there. "He was picking at his food all through dinner."

"I noticed that," you agree as you pat the spot beside you on the couch. "I'm sure it's just a picky eating phase. Once he settles back into a routine with you it should be fine."

"With us," she corrects with a small smile. "I need all the help I can get, and I really appreciate you being here so often."

"Oh, honey, of course." You give her forearm a squeeze before grabbing both of your empty glasses from the table and taking them to the sink. "I was worried I was becoming more of a burden on you by being here so much, but I'm glad it's welcome company."

"Always," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. You set the glasses down and turn back to see her staring at the tiny picture frame of her and Haley on her counter. "She always made it look so easy."

You nod, not wanting to interrupt her moment. After a beat, Jess releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. "She was the perfect mother. If I can be half as good of a caretaker for Jack as she was, I'll know I'm doing something right."

You smile unconsciously, remembering a moment from years ago. "I swear Aaron said the exact same thing once. He was upset about leaving work late again when they first had Jack, and I had to assure him that he wouldn't miss every childhood milestone just because he had to work late once in a while."

He was so terrified of being anything like his father. You tried your best to show him how impossible that was, but those are the kinds of things people have to learn on their own.

Jess looks down, deep in thought, and your phone chimes then with a new message. It's from Derek: Hotch sat phone call, 15 mins

"Jess," you whisper, getting her attention again. "Aaron is scheduled to call us over the satellite phone in a little bit. I'm gonna go into the office to see if I can talk to him. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"

She thinks for a moment before shaking her head. "Just that Jack and I are doing well. And we miss him."

You nod and press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing your coat and driving over to the field office. The sky is dark by the time you arrive, and it feels foreign to walk into an empty bullpen. The team has shrunk so much since he left, and lately it's just been you, Spencer, Derek, Rossi, and Penelope around here.

You knock on Aaron's office door once before stepping inside.

"Sounds good," Derek is saying as you shut the door behind you. "Yeah, keep us updated." He sees you then and beckons you closer before turning back to the phone. "Y/N's here. I'll hand it to her."

You take the phone from him and tentatively press it to your ear. There's a slight buzzing sound and when he says "Hello?", his voice sounds far away.

"Hi," you say softly, turning your back to Derek for some semblance of privacy, but he has already pulled out his phone and started typing something. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he says, sounding slightly distracted. "It's really busy over here. How are yo- you all doing? Jack and Jessica?"

"They're good," you tell him, hoping he can't hear the tightness in your voice over hearing his for the first time in weeks. "They really miss you. We all do."

"I miss you guys too." 

You hear some muffled voices on the other end of the line, and you jump in with your questions before he gets called away. "Any updates I can ask about? Like when you'll be done."

"Not right now," he says with a sigh. "It's still need-to-know."

"Right," you whisper rigidly, even though it's not fair. He's trying his best, and he's doing what's right, but you keep punishing him. Because of your own feelings, your brain adds at the end. 

"It's protocol," he says, even though you're both well aware of how this works.

"I know," you sigh, your fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I have to go back to Jess's."

"Y/N, wait-" he starts, but you are already handing the phone back to Derek.

He takes it uncertainly, but you just shake your head and exit the office.

***

"Did you watch the other movie I gave you?"

You whip your head around to look at Spencer, who is looking at you intently. You had been staring at Aaron's office door for the better part of the last hour.

You frown apologetically. "Not yet, Spence." He had loaned you his DVD of one of his favorite Star Wars movies, and each time you tried watching it, you were just reminded of the immediate aftermath of losing Emily. "I'll find time soon, though."

"That's okay," he shrugs as you inadvertently glance up at the door again. "I know it isn't everyone's thing. I just thought you seemed to enjoy the one we watched at the movie night."

"I did," you assure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "I promise I just haven't found time yet."

He smiles at you, and you return it before your eyes dart up to Aaron's office door at the sight of movement. A small, unrealistic part of you expects Aaron to emerge, but it's Derek instead. Derek took over his office a month after he left to Pakistan, because the secure line was already set up.

"He has a lot on his plate these days," Spencer says, drawing your attention back. He's watching Derek speak to someone at the top of the stairs, his forehead crinkled with stress.

"We're down quite a few hands," you nod, pursing your lips. "Maybe we can convince Derek to bring JJ back permanently."

Spencer lights up and you can't help but grin too. "We definitely should."

***

The cases start piling up, and you welcome the distraction as the passing months begin to weigh on you. The whole team has been under a lot of pressure from the brass, and Strauss has been hinting at a prolonged assignment in Pakistan that may take up even more of his time.

After a particularly grisly case, you invite Penelope over to unwind with some wine and chatting. It doesn't escape your notice that you're missing half of your usual girls' night attendees, but you keep the wine flowing, and soon you aren't focusing on anything other than the new guy Penelope met at her grocery store.

"He's so sweet," she gushes as she leans over the table to grab another chip. You're both sitting on the floor of your living room, and you reach out hastily to steady her glass as it gets precariously close to spilling over. "And I think it says a lot that he shops at such a high quality grocery store."

"Oh, absolutely," you nod, lifting your own glass in a mock salute. "You can tell a lot about a man by how he eats."

"Tell me about it," she sighs, her words starting to slur. Maybe opening the second bottle was too much. "I once dated a guy who only ate protein bars and steak."

Your face twists in disgust, and you set your glass down, feeling the rush of tipsiness hit you. "That's definitely not a balanced diet."

"I tried to tell him," Penelope says, before her face falls into a sad frown. "I really tried."

"Okay, okay," you say, trying to change the subject as her eyes fill with drunk tears. "Back to the grocery store man."

Her face breaks into a wide smile comically fast and you let out a high laugh. "He's so sweet. He really is just the sweetest guy."

"So I've heard," you grin, taking another sip of wine.

Turns out your last glass was one too many, because an hour later, after sending Penelope off in a cab and clearing away your dishes, you're still feeling the buzz from earlier.

Your face feels comfortably warm and you grab your phone from the counter, with the intention to call Emily, when you suddenly remember-

Your smile falls in an instant and tears are rushing forward before you can clearly form a coherent thought. You drop the phone and rush upstairs to take a hot shower to wind down and calm yourself, but even as the burning water washes over you, you still feel wound tight, like your emotions are trapped inside of you.

She was the first person you would always call after a tipsy night, and now she's gone. 

Everybody's gone.

JJ, Emily, Aaron. Aaron.

A sob chokes out and you press your hand over your mouth, your body caving forward under the billowing steam fogging up the glass. You miss him so much, it's like you're not even yourself anymore. 

You let out another soft sob as the water begins to calm you down, but you can still feel the echoing hollowness inside of you. You wish he was here, holding you, telling you it would all be okay. That you didn't ruin everything by pushing too hard, too fast. That you love him and he loves you, and it can all be perfect again. 

"It'll be okay," his voice whispers from behind you, and suddenly he's there. Not really, but with your eyes closed and your mind still foggy, it almost feels real. "I'm sorry I left. I should've been here."

"You should be," you gasp out as his arms close around you from behind, holding you tightly under the soothing warmth of the water. "You left me."

"I know," he says, his breath tingling the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I'll never leave again. I promise."

"You promise," you whisper, mostly to yourself, as you turn around. His lips glide over your shoulder and up your neck, and suddenly his mouth is on yours.

You gasp as his hands slide down your body, his fingers gently caressing the sides of your breasts as he makes his way to your waist. His lips are so soft against yours and when his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, you moan loudly, letting him swallow up the sounds.

He feels so real under your hands as you trace the jagged scars along his abdomen, and when his tongue glides down your-

You sit up with a gasp, your head pounding with the beginnings of an oncoming wine hangover. Your sheets are messily strewn around you, and your skin is sticky with sweat, but you can't bring yourself to get up. You take a large gulp of water from the glass on your nightstand and check the time: 3:02 AM.

Falling back with a huff, you run a hand over your face and fruitlessly try to sleep through the rest of the night.

***

Summer brings its own set of struggles.

The heat makes each case feel ten times longer than it already is, and with September fast approaching, Jack gets more and more antsy about starting school for the first time.

"He's been shut in his room all day," Jess sighs over the line as you make yourself coffee with your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. "I think he's sad that he's starting school without either of his parents here."

Your heart breaks as you imagine Jack alone in his room, waiting and wishing for his dad to come back in time for his first day of school. Then an idea pops into your head.

"I think I know what to do."

An hour later, you, Jess, and Jack are waiting in line, under the beating sun, to get into the Smithsonian's zoo. Even tho you can already feel the sweat starting to drip down your back, Jack looks downright giddy, so you take the win.

When you finally get inside, he makes a beeline for the monkey exhibits, and you and Jess meander along behind him, chatting about her new side gig.

"I'm starting the part-time job in the fall," she explains as you stop behind Jack at the front of the chimpanzee enclosure. "It works out with the start of the school year, in case Aaron is gone for a while longer."

"That sounds great," you smile, giving her a small side squeeze. "You deserve something to take your mind off of everything too."

She shrugs, ever the neutral party, before looking at you with a smirk. "I hear there are some changes happening at the BAU as well?"

"Right!" you grin, following Jack to the next exhibit. "JJ was helping out temporarily, but she's officially back on the team. She also mentioned to me that she might be considering enrolling in profiler training so she can be a full-time field agent."

"Good for her," Jess smiles. "Lord knows you guys could use some extra manpower right now."

It's right then that your phone chirps with a text from Derek saying that Aaron is calling in again this afternoon. The urge to speak to him for the first time in weeks tugs at your gut, but then you glance over at Jack, who looks happy for the first time in just as long, and before you know it, you're typing back your response: Not today. Busy with Jack.

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you don't have an excuse. 

You're at work, scribbling out the last few lines of your latest case report, when Derek tries to call you into his office. You haven't spoken to him in over a month, and he's asked for you each time he called, but still you refuse.

"Y/N, come on," Derek chuffs, running a hand over his face. "You know he wants to talk to you. He's by himself over there."

That's what gets you. By himself. As though you aren't alone too. As though you hadn't been completely fucking alone when, over the weekend, you found a pair of socks Emily must have forgotten at your place months ago, and had a full body breakdown on the floor of our foyer. 

Each time you're close to forgetting that he left you here to fend for yourself, it comes back in full force, and right now, you would rather do just about anything other than put on a neutral face and ask him how he's doing over there.

"Next time," you say, hoping the finality comes across in your tone. It must have worked, because although Derek shakes his head disappointedly, he doesn't ask again. 

When you go to Aaron's place after work to see Jack, Jess pulls you aside, a worried look on her face. 

"We spoke to Aaron yesterday," she explains, her arms crossed over her chest. The bureau set up a secure line for them so she and Jack could speak to him periodically. "He seemed to be doing well."

"That's great," you say with a nod, unsure of why she's updating you when she thinks you spoke to him today. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving away your concern. "I told him about Jack starting school in a few weeks, and about my new job. Then when I mentioned you - how you've been coming here a lot - he looked really happy that you were involved, but...he sounded off for the rest of the call."

Your shoulders tense up and you try to relax, so as not to give yourself away. "Damn Jess, they should make you a profiler."

She says your name sternly, and you can hear the Haley in her voice. "I'm serious. Have you guys not been speaking?"

"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "I just need some more time, but I'll talk to him soon."

She twists her lips into a sad frown and you sigh, not knowing what to say, but she beats you to it. "He misses you...and I can tell you miss him."

You don't have an answer that she will want to hear, so you stick with the usual. "I'll talk to him next time."

***

"Do I have to go?"

Jack's bottom lip juts out in a sad pout as you adjust the straps of his little backpack on his shoulders. 

"It's your first day of school, bud!" Jess is trying to sound excited, but you can hear the sadness in her voice too, now that she won't have Jack all hours of the day anymore. "It's an exciting time!"

"You got this, baby," you smile, pressing a loud kiss to the top of his head. "Your dad is so proud of you."

"Your mom would be too," Jess adds with a sad smile. "Now go on in, Jack. I'll be right here waiting for you when the last bell rings."

He considers this for a moment, before nodding. Then he looks at you. "What about you?"

"I have to work," you say softly, matching his pout and making him let out a small giggle. "But you can tell me all about your first day when I see you this weekend, okay?"

"Okay," he nods, before grabbing the straps of his backpack and marching toward the front door.

"There he goes," Jess says wistfully, linking her arm through yours.

You let out a small sigh before shooting her a smile. You love him so much, and you're so glad you get to be here as he grows up, but you're so sad that Haley is gone and he's missing out on this moment. "They grow up so fast."

***

The next time Aaron calls in, you're talking to Dave in his office about his latest cabin trip. He is filling you in on the species of fish that live in the lake behind his place when Derek walks in with the notification that Aaron is on the other end of the line in his office.

Dave nods, saying he'll speak with him at the end, and Derek almost skips over you until you follow him out the door.

"You sure?" he asks as you follow him up the stairs.

You nod, bracing yourself for the guilt as you pick up the sat phone. "Hello?"

"Morgan?" Aaron asks, his voice confused over the line. 

"No," you say, shaking your head even though he can't see you. "It's me."

There's a moment of silence before he clears his throat. "Oh, I'm glad you could come in."

You say something that sounds like "of course" and suddenly he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He hasn't heard from you in weeks, and even though he's probably coming home soon, he's so happy to hear your voice he could cry.

"Jess said you were there for Jack's first day," he says slowly, trying to find his voice. "Thank you for doing that. I know it's a lot before coming into work."

"It's not," you say genuinely, momentarily alleviating all of the anxiety he has been having around missing everything in his son's life. "He's the perfect kid. I'm lucky to be a part of his life."

He closes his eyes, wishing with every fiber of his being that he was there with you right now, and not thousands of miles away. "Thank you."

"Any time."

There's silence for a few moments before your breath stutters. "Do you know when you're coming back?"

His heart cracks at the soft sadness in your voice, but he still isn't allowed to share anything that is strictly need-to-know. "I don't."

Your breath catches in your throat and he hears the quiet sob as it breaks over the line. "I miss you, Aaron."

His fingers grip the phone so tightly he's afraid it may shatter in his hands, but there's nothing else tethering him to his life back home. This metal box is the one thing that is keeping him alive out here, and even though he left home so that he could stop lying to you, he's still doing it.

That's why he swallows thickly and says the one thing he knows isn't a lie: "I miss you too."

***

The team got called into the office for an emergency that no one has explained to any of you, and you take a seat in the briefing room as everyone else files in, matching looks of confusion all around you.

"Anyone know what we're doing here?" Dave asks as he leans back in his chair.

You're about to shrug when a figure walks into the room in a dark blue button down and an unfamiliar scruffy beard.

Your eyes widen and your breath leaves your body as you start to stand up, but then he motions for you all to take a seat, so you sink back down. He glances at everyone in the room before his eyes finally land on you. You can't believe he's here. That he knew he was coming back and still didn't tell you.

"What's going on?" Derek asks, breaking your eye contact with a jolt. "Everything all right?" Aaron ignores him. "Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."

You don't know why he's bringing this up again but then he continues. "The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration."

Your heart falls. No, there's no way. "Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security." Your teammates break their silence at the same time. 

"She's alive?"

"But we buried her..."

You're still unable to suck in a big enough breath to regain the ability to speak, but then another figure walks in and you suddenly understand what people mean when they say their heart skips a beat.

"Oh my god," Penelope whispers from behind you as your feet unconsciously carry you forward and toward her. Toward Emily.

You pull her into your arms, relishing the feeling of your friend hugging you back after you thought you would never see her again. Her arms squeeze you tightly and you suck in a shuddering breath, trying to calm down your heart rate.

She's alive. Emily's alive. Aaron's back and Emily's alive.

The thoughts ping pong around your brain, fighting for dominance, but another one buried deeper in your mind floats to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

He lied.

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[softhairedhotch]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST BOY AARON HOTCHNER <333 comfortember day two: sweater weather aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader it's aaron's birthday and he wants to spend it with you at home. word count: 2.4k warnings/content: just pure fluff and a lil mention to sex but not explicit, pet names and one use of y/n, lots of cute kissing. established relationship! <3

comfortember masterlist here! also on ao3!

lazy day for the birthday boy

The front door opens and in walks Aaron, looking tense. You reach for him immediately, searching his face before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He holds you tightly, sighing deeply as he relaxes into you. After a minute, he pulls away and presses a soft kiss to your lips, thumbs tracing your jaw as you pull him closer.

“You okay?” You whisper against his lips.

“Mhm.”

“Sure?”

“I am now,” he nods, kissing you again. “Now that I’m with you.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Don’t get all corny, Mister.”

He pulls back and laughs along with you, already seeming brighter, as he grabs his go-bag and moves toward the living room, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way you love. “I thought you liked corny.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

Aaron rolls his eyes at that, throwing you a fond look. “Right. Well, when’s the next time you have work?”

“I have a few days off, I’m back on Monday next week.”

“Me too.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Aaron Hotchner… are you saying you’re taking a few days off? What’s the special occasion?” 

He shrugs. “Just wanted to spend some time with you.”

“Yeah? And are you sure it doesn’t have to do with your birthday coming up soon?”

“No, of course not,” he replies, biting back a smile at being caught.

“You’re actually taking time off?"

Aaron walks toward you and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer and pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I am.” He gives you another kiss. “I figured I’d treat myself.”

“And how are you gonna treat yourself?” 

“I already told you,” he smiles, pressing his lips against yours once more before pulling you into a hug. “Gonna spend my time with you.” His lips find your temple. “And only you.”

Your heart soars.

***

On the morning of Aaron’s birthday, you intentionally wake up earlier than him to sneak out of bed. It proves harder than you thought it would, having to crawl out from under his warm weight slowly so as to not disturb him, but once you’re standing, you smile down at him. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his lips are pressed together in a small smile, a rare but welcome occurrence. 

He looks peaceful.

Forcing yourself to move so that you don’t stand there all day watching him, you make your way to the kitchen to make him a surprise breakfast. Half an hour later, you smile to yourself with pride at the array of food you’ve made. There’s bacon, eggs, sausages, a slice of toast made to the perfect standard, coffee, and some orange juice. 

You take a quick picture before grabbing the tray, ready to take it to Aaron in bed when an arm slinks around your waist and a firm body presses against your back.  Aaron presses a kiss just below your ear and hums, squeezing you gently. "Something smells nice." 

"You were supposed to still be in bed,” you whine, sagging against him.

He chuckles against your skin and presses another tired kiss to your cheek. "I'm sorry, honey. Did I ruin your surprise?" 

“Yes,” you reply, placing the tray back on the kitchen table and turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. “You did, actually.”

"I did, huh?" 

"Mhm. Happy birthday, by the way." 

He smiles at you before kissing you softly. "Thank you. And I promise I didn't look at what you made, I can go back to bed if you want me to." 

"You better." 

Aaron chuckles and presses one last kiss to your nose before turning and walking back to the bedroom. “I was never here.”

“Right,” you say with a smile, rolling your eyes.

You wait for a few moments before picking up his food and taking it to him, laughing at the sight of him sprawled out on the bed as if in a deep sleep. At the sound of you coming in, he slowly pushes himself up, looking around in confusion and faking a yawn. He reaches up to rub at his eyes, stretching dramatically before sitting up against the headboard. “What’s going on?”

“You’re not gonna believe this,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed and hand him the tray, “but I made you breakfast in bed.”

“Wow,” he replies, grinning like he just won a million bucks. “I never expected this.”

You roll your eyes and lean forward to give him a kiss on the forehead. “That’s the point of a surprise, sweetheart.”

“Right, yeah.” 

“So, what do you wanna do today?”

He chews thoughtfully on some egg white. “Spend it in bed?”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking at him. “Oh, yeah?”

“Not like that,” he chuckles, looking down at his food to choose what to pick next. Then it dawns on him and he looks up at you with a cheeky flustered smile. “Well, yeah, definitely like that, but then we can cuddle afterwards.”

“Wow, Aaron, you’re such a gentleman.”

“Aren’t I just?”

***

You wake up later that day, feeling Aaron's warm arms completely wrapped around you, his soft peaceful breaths tickling your neck. Smiling, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head and pull him closer. He shuffles in your arms and lets out a relaxed sigh, pressing his lips against your collarbone.

"Mornin'," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. 

"Mornin', sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" 

He grins against your neck. "Mhm. You definitely put me to sleep." 

"Was I that bad?" You joke. 

He lifts up with a laugh and presses his lips against you, kissing you with so much love you feel like you might melt. "Never."

You kiss him back before pulling away, nuzzling your nose against his. "So, birthday boy, what d'ya wanna do the rest of the day?" 

"Can we have a lazy day?" 

"Of course," you smile, giving him a kiss. "Lazy day for the birthday boy, that sounds nice. But are you sure you don't wanna go out and get some food or anything? No museum trip or walk in the park?" 

"Hm, no," he mumbles, shaking his head and dropping his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh. "I'm always busy; just wanna be here." 

You card your hand through his soft hair. "Then we'll stay here. That sound good?" 

"Mhm." 

"Good."

For the next few hours, you're in and out of consciousness, comfortably and safely wrapped up in each other's arms. Finally, though, after you’ve spent most of the day in bed, you're able to convince Aaron to get up when your stomach growls loudly. 

"What should we eat?" He asks, sitting up against the headboard and looking adorable with his messy hair and sleepy expression. 

"Could make lasagne, pasta bake, chicken and noodles, maybe even a curry? What do you fancy?" 

"Hm," he thinks, his hand running over your bare skin sweetly. "Can we order in?" 

"Sure," you smile, pressing your lips to his cheek and grabbing your phone. "Anything in particular?" 

"Pizza," he answers immediately, making you laugh. "I haven't had pizza in ages."

"Didn't you say you had pizza last week at work that was really bad?" 

"Okay, fine, I haven't had good pizza in ages." 

"Then let’s buy you the best pizza there is, honey.”

After much consideration, you decide to buy two large pizzas, one with your favourite toppings and one with Aaron's favourite toppings so that you can share and have enough for the next day when Jack gets home, as well as fries and drinks.

Once the food is ordered, you put your phone down and open your bedside drawer for Aaron's present. He watches you with a raised eyebrow, eyes softening when you pull out a small box. "Honey, you didn't have to get me anything." 

"I know." You shuffle around so you're sitting facing him before you give him the box. "But I wanted to. Open it." 

He huffs out a laugh and takes the box from you, carefully unwrapping it and staring down at it for a few seconds. For a moment, your stomach drops, thinking he doesn't like it, but then he bites his lip to hide back a smile and you can see him tear up ever so slightly. “I love it.”

“I figured you’d prefer it as a necklace, that way you can wear it at work and it doesn’t get caught on your gun. I mean, I know you could wear it on your hand if you want, but it’s just a promise ring, and I figured that–”

“Honey.”

“I suppose you can wear it however you want and–”

“Hey,” he laughs, taking your face in his large hands and stopping you from rambling on. “I love it as it is. Thank you.” He picks up the ring and turns it over in his fingers, pausing when he finds that it’s been engraved inside with ‘We’re always with you, love Y/N and Jack’. That’s when he begins to tear up, pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “I love it so much. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to put it on you?” 

“Please,” he replies, kissing you again.

You take the necklace from his hand and move so that you’re mostly behind him, gently putting it on and pressing a kiss to his temple. “There you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” he replies, turning to hold your face softly in his hand and running his thumb over your cheek. “Truly.”

You press a kiss to his nose and laugh before jumping out of bed. “C’mon, let’s go get comfortable on the couch!”

The two of you make your way to the living room, carrying your blankets and pillows and picking out the comfiest sweaters you own so that you can wrap yourselves up. You stick on a movie you're sure Aaron's seen a million times, focusing mostly on his cute face as he watches with complete focus. His head is on your chest and he softly runs his fingers under the hem of your sweater, huffing out a laugh occasionally at the screen.

The doorbell rings and Aaron groans, pushing himself away from you. Before he can stand up properly, you beat him to it, gently pushing him by the shoulder so that he falls back onto the couch with a laugh. “I was just gonna get the door!”

“Nuh-uh! Birthday boy deserves to rest and relax, I’ll get the door.”

He rolls his eyes but pulls the blankets back over him anyway, getting comfortable. “It’s just a door, sweetheart.”

“And I shall be the one to open it,” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him before making your way to the front door. Instead of it being the delivery guy you were expecting, in front of you stands Jack, already in a pair of pyjamas, and Jessica. “Wh–”

Jessica shushes you, unable to hold back her smile as Jack jumps in barely-contained excitement. "He got home early and he wants to surprise his dad," she whispers. 

"This will definitely be a surprise," you whisper back, “he’s expecting pizza.” Jack bounces into your arms and you wrap yourself around him as Jessica closes the door behind her. "He's gonna be so happy." 

"Honey?" Aaron calls from the living room. "Is everything alright?" 

"Yeah!" You call back, stifling a giggle as you walk back into the living room. "It wasn't the pizza guy, it was someone else." 

"Oh, who was it?" You open your mouth to reply but you’re not given the chance to as Jack races into the room with a loud cheer, launching himself at his dad. Aaron immediately breaks out into a huge grin and catches Jack mid-air, pulling him in for a tight hug. "Jack! What are you doing here, buddy?" 

"I wanted to surprise you, Daddy!" 

Jessica walks in and smiles at the sight. "He really did. He couldn't stop laughing all the way here." 

"You knew about this?" Aaron asks Jessica with a laugh. 

"Of course I did," she rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder against yours as if to say is he being serious? "You didn't expect him to wander over here on his own from a whole ‘nother city, did you?" 

"No, I suppose not," Aaron chuckles, still hugging Jack as if his life depends on it. "I am so glad to see you, bud. You've just made my day so much better." 

"Hey!" 

"You know I didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart," he says with a loving smile before looking over at Jessica. "Thank you for bringing him over, I really appreciate it." 

"It's no problem," she smiles, walking over to the couch and leaning down to give him a hug. "Happy birthday, Aaron. Here." She presses a kiss to his temple and hands him a bag. 

"You didn't have to get me anything–" 

"I know," she smirks. "But I did, so enjoy it! I have to go, though, so I'll see you soon, yeah?" 

"Bye!" Jack replies, jumping up to give her a hug. "Love you!" 

"Love you too, Jack. Take care of your dad, yeah?" 

"Always!" 

"Thanks, Jessica."

Jessica walks out of the room and you follow her out to the front door. "Thank you for bringing him," you say, giving her a hug. "I know Aaron really appreciated that." 

"Of course," she smiles. “See ya.” 

You nod and open the door for her, jumping when there's a man already standing there with his hand ready to knock. "Pizza for Aaron?" 

"Oh, right, yes," you laugh, taking it from his hands and thanking him as he leaves. "Jess, do you wanna knick a slice before you head out?" 

She thinks for a second before shrugging. "Sure, why not." 

After she takes her slice and gives you another quick hug, you close the door and make your way to your boys who are cuddling on the couch. You smile at them, feeling a sense of belonging as you sit beside Jack and he immediately jumps to sit between you and Aaron so his shoulders are pressed against both of yours. 

As you eat the pizza and watch the movie, you lean over and press a soft kiss on Aaron’s lips. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he snuggles closer to you and Jack. “This has been the best one yet.”

Eventually, the three of you fall asleep cuddled up on the couch, warm and full and happier than ever.

tag list: @criminalskies @ssahotchnerr @hotchs-big-hands@citrusiove @sillyhotchsgirl

#comfortember #comfortember 2023 #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #criminal minds #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #aaron hotchner fluff

[littlecarmine]

AARON HOTCHNER, JESSICA BROOKS, and JACK HOTCHNER | 1.19 “MACHISMO”

#cmedit #criminalmindsedit #cm #criminal minds #cm 1x19 #criminal minds 1x19 #hotch.gif #.gif #hotch gifs #hotch #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner gifs #jessica brooks #jack hotchner #hotch humor #qp

[thespicemustflowgirls]

leto had the measuring look about him, and caution, yes, but all of it had to be evaluated against that latent wildness, the susceptibility to dangerous decisions.

ghanima was more like her mother. there was chani's red hair, the set of chani's eyes, and a calculating way about her when she adjusted to difficulties.

she often said that she only did what she had to do, but where leto led she would follow.

and leto was going to lead them into danger.

CHILDREN OF DUNE (TV MINI SERIES 2003)

#leto ii atreides #ghanima atreides #dune #children of dune #dune 2003 #james mcavoy #jessica brooks #mygifs

[yuly]

↬ A Two Way Street ↫

Aaron Hotchner x Jessica Brooks x female reader (platonic)

Summary: Aaron walks in on you calling him out and urging your friend Jessica to speak up for herself. 

Warnings: angst, some comfort, family issues, Hailey is mentioned, angry Hotch

A/N: just a little blurb I thought of after watching S10E20, hope you enjoy 

WC: 1K

Pic credit: pinterest 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You were heartbroken, sitting across from your best friend as she broke down for the third time this week. You’ve known Jessica Brooks for almost seven years. The two of you share everything and have an almost sisterly bond. Despite her bubbly and outgoing persona, the past few years have been tough on her. Between the sudden loss of her sister, stepping up in a major way for her nephew Jack and his dad, financial stress, and her father's new dementia diagnosis, you were worried about your friend. She had too much on her plate and was slowly losing herself. 

Naturally, you felt angry for her. She gave every part of herself to her family, held nothing back and never said no. But everyone has their limit, and Jessica was well past hers. 

“Jess, please let me help you. I can watch Jack, we both know this interview is important.”

You had called up an old friend for a favour to get Ray a spot at one of the best assisted living facilities in the city. Jessica landed an interview, but Jack’s father wasn't home for another two days. You’ve only met the man in passing, you never really had an opinion on him one way or the other, but as of late, you've grown to resent him for all the pressure he puts on your friend. 

“It's fine Y/N, you know how Aaron is, he wouldn’t be happy with his son being around people he doesn’t know,” you rolled your eyes at that. 

Meanwhile, Aaron’s case ended earlier than expected. He decided to come by Jessica's place to surprise Jack. He let himself in quietly, knowing it was either Jack’s nap-time or reading time, not wanting to disturb either. He paused at the sound of your voices coming from the kitchen.

“You know what I mean Y/N, I trust you with Jack but I want to respect his father's wishes,” she explained patiently. 

“C'mon Jess, I know he’s your family but this laundry list of demands and expectations is ridiculous. He knows about your dad, has he offered to help in any way? He knows about your job situation, has he offered any help? Jess, why is it that you have to be the backbone for everyone and no one looks out for you?” Jessica sighs, biting her lip.

Aaron’s jaw is clenched tightly as the heat begins to rise to his face, he feels a swarm of emotions at the moment, but mainly anger. Anger at being called out by someone he barely knows, anger that you know this much about his family life, anger that you have the nerve to say any of this out loud.

“Y/N, you're always looking out for me and I’m forever grateful, you put in a good word for dad at this facility, you put in a referral for me at your job, and you always offer to watch Jack for me. You are the best friend and biggest supporter I have right now and I love you for it Y/N. But it's different with Aaron, he's-” 

“Your ex-brother-in-law that you feel bad for? Look, Jess, I know I'm well out of line here but you are drowning and you need to speak up for yourself.” That was bold, but you stood ten toes behind every word and behind your friend. 

Hotch decides he has heard enough, he clears his throat, causing you both to jump.

“Aaron, your home! Jack’s gone down for a nap, he was worn out today, they played tennis and it was his turn to be pizza helper,” Jessica rambles on nervously, firmly planting herself between the two of you. The tension in the room is thick. 

“Can I have a word please,” he shoots you a stern glare, “in private.”

You move out to the balcony, avoiding all eye contact, feeling guilty for the awkward situation you've created for Jess. 

“Aaron listen, she’s my friend, her delivery is harsh but she means well,” Hotch abruptly cuts her off, “I don’t want her anywhere near my son and I’d appreciate it if you'd stop indulging our private business with her,” he snaps. 

Jessica is slightly taken aback, “Aaron, I understand she said some harsh words just now, but that's not fair, she's my friend and she’s genuinely concerned. She's coming from a good place.” Her tone is calm, a stark contrast to his.

“Why didn't you just come to me instead of venting to your friend about our family’s issues?”

“Aaron, you are not the easiest person to talk to. You have a lot on your plate already, and you're not always open to having hard conversations. Y/N is a good friend, she listens and offers real solutions to help.”

Aaron shifts slightly, feeling an uncomfortable pang in his chest.

“I would've heard you out. I didn't know you were struggling with work, and I was going to talk to you about your dad, but I wanted to give you some space first,” his voice is lower now.

“That's it, Aaron, I don't need any more ‘space’ I feel like I'm on an island by myself as it is! I want to feel like I can talk to you without worrying about you getting upset.”

Jessica sighs, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “and I want you to talk to me Aaron, you don’t have to carry everything by yourself, this is a two-way street.”

Aaron looks down at his feet, hands tucked into his pockets as guilt washes over him. Jessica has been a rock for him and he had no idea how badly she was hurting. Aaron’s coping mechanism is to drown out the noise with work, to bury his head in the sand. 

“I’m sorry Jessica, I’m sorry for not listening and for making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ll try do better about talking to you.”

You’ve been watching and listening silently from your spot on the balcony as the two of them talk it out and you smile to yourself, proud of Jessica for finally speaking up. Hearing Aaron speak candidly and be vulnerable for once shifts something inside of you.

Maybe Jack’s dad isn't as bad as you thought….

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #jessica brooks #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner headcanon #ssa hotchner #jack hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #jessica criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner angst #angst and hurt/comfort #angst and comfort #yuly writes! #hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction

[save-the-sky]

#aaron hotchner #hotch #jessica brooks #criminal minds #tv: criminal minds #criminalmindsedit #cmedit #aaronhotchneredit #save gifs #save gifs criminal minds

[nicodemuslily]

The sweater case

And here are the illustrations of my last entry for the CM Office Party Challenge:

I had a lot of fun imagining all those sweaters (and socks for Jack and Spencer). Just imagine that there are light bulbs on Hotch and Penelope sweaters. :D

Wish everyone to spend a nice new year's eve and see you in 2024. o/

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanart #fanfic illustration #aaron hotchner #agent hotchner #hotch #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #penelope garcia #agent garcia #garcia #sunday sketch time #sketchdump #sketches

[codename-mom]

Around an ice cream

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

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

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

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

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

___

“You get an ice cream?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“But…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

“… Have you told him yet?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should tell him.”

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

“Can’t you tell him?”

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

“Really?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

“Why does he do what?”

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

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

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

“I also choose the evening movies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” he admitted, shaking his head.

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

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

“Why? Does he do bad things?”

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

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

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

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

“Just explain it in words for small ones.”

“What?” she croaked, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mind?”

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

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

“So why does Dad think it bothers you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t wait.”

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

“What?”

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

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

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

“DADDY!”

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

“Hey! Hi, champ!”

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

“You were at the park?”

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

“That’s good. Do you like it?”

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

“Yes?” he replied, suppressing a grimace.

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

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

“… Why?”

“Because you deserve an ice cream too.”

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

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

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

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

“… Deal.”

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

[whump-town]

Rushing Home

Hotch doesn't get a "concussion" properly assessed, naturally, there's consequences.

(lots of nausea and one puke)

Word Count: 6500

Jack doesn’t really mind going to school, he likes it. Actually, Jack really likes school. But the weekends are still better. Breakfast is pop-tarts and they get to go do all the fun things. At the grocery store, they pick up chicken nuggets and frozen pizza. They walk to the park and like most weekends, Hotch carries Jack back when he’s too tired to walk. When they get home they watch movies and Scooby Doo. But on Monday they can’t do any of that. Pop-tarts are only for the weekend and that’s why Mondays are the worst days. 

“You like eggs,” Hotch reminds Jack, watching him pick and turn the scrambled eggs over with his fork. “You want something to dip it in?” 

Jack shakes his head.

“Alright.” Hotch pushes himself up and goes over to the counter. He glances back at Jack as he refills his mug. Reaching up, he opens the cabinet and pulls down a plate. He scoops up what remains of the scrambled eggs on the pan still sitting on the stove top. As he comes back, he takes the ketchup from the fridge, and another fork, and sits back down. In his peripheral Hotch can see that Jack is watching him. He puts a little ketchup on his plate and stabs a bit of egg. 

His stomach’s used to nothing but coffee until at least lunch time, and he got nauseous just cooking the eggs but he takes a big bite. He points to the ketchup with his fork, “you sure you don’t want any?” 

Jack hesitates for a moment, thinking it over. “Yes,” Jack pushes his plate forward, “please.” 

Hotch barely manages to swallow the bite but he smiles, stabbing more onto his fork. Jack’s still watching, timing his own bites with Hotch’s. His stomach does an ugly little twist, nausea rampant, but he cleans the plate, they both do. 

Hand against his rebelling stomach, Hotch leans on the sofa as he waits for Jack to come running back with his shoes. In his hands are not his school shoes but the lime green rainboots they fight over frequently. Hotch had gotten Jack real sneakers this year, big boy sneakers, with shoelaces and not velcro. And seeing them, Hotch begins to say something but then he thinks about having to lean over and tie those shoelaces and, instead, he just request Jack hurry up before they’re late.

Getting big boy shoes was supposed to mean that Jack tie his own shoes but it’s not that easy. On the mornings when Jack does tie his own shoes, it takes at least ten minutes. Other mornings he just throws his leg up on Hotch and waits expectantly for them to be tied for him. Shoes with the velcro straps were so much easier for mornings, but Jack had pleaded in the shoe store. 

“Daddy can you get coffee?” 

Prentiss had called while they were in the car and Jack had been silent in the back, Hotch had nearly forgotten he was back there. Hotch glances back rearview mirror, pulling the phone from his good ear, “I already made coffee, buddy.” He replies to phone, “yeah, driving him to school.” Hotch glances back int he mirror again, “Miss Emily says hi.” 

“Hi!” Jack shouts back, kicking his feet back and forth where they dangle. 

“No,” Hotch says, “he just wants a d-o-n-u-t.” He glances back but Jack’s watching the window, humming a song to himself. “We’re already late, Prentiss – He doesn't need— Alright, alright. Yeah fine.” 

They take the same route everyday and Jack notices immediately when they detour. “Coffee?” he asks, perking up and knowing wherever they’re going, it’s not to the school. 

“Yeah,” Hotch huffs, and glances back, “what kinda donut do you want?”

“Chocolate!”

As much as Jack hates being wiped down with a baby wipe, he’s covered in icing and sticky, he doesn’t like that more. “When I get big,” Jack says, pausing as the baby wipe circles back around his mouth, “I’m gonna eat choc’late donuts everyday!”

“Everyday, huh?” Hotch tosses the dirty wipe back into the car and pulls out another, needing another to tackle the mess on Jack’s hands. “If you have it everyday then it’s not as fun when you get one.” 

“It’d be fun everyday.”

The last of the donut finally comes off and Hotch pushes off the car, standing. “Alright,” he pats Jack’s shoulder and leans back into the car, grabbing his bookbag. There’s not much of a point for this silly thing, it’s light as feather, but it is pretty cute. The bookbag is bigger than Jack is. “Here we go,” Hotch holds it and Jack slips his arms into the straps. “You want me to walk you in?”

“Yes!” Jack grabs Hotch’s hand and starts to pull.

“Alright.” His father had never walked him into school. If he had, Hotch doubts he would have grabbed his father’s hand so eagerly. It’s sort of strange, all of it is really. Half of him is certain that he has no idea what he’s doing, and the other half is bewildered that whatever he’s doing isn’t as bad as what was done to him. He has only the one reference, one thing to compare it to and it’s not very comparable. 

They get to the door and Jack lets go, running, “bye! Love you!”

“I love you.” 

Jack waves at the door and keeps going. 

Already knowing what’s waiting for him at the office, Hotch stands and watches Jack until he can’t see him any longer. He feels immense guilt everytime he leaves Jack but it’s not enough to stop him from going and he’s not sure what that means. If that makes him bad at all this. Bad at being a dad. 

Jack hates it. He thinks it’s really cool most of the time. He likes that his dad fights bad guys, he loves superheroes, but he’s coming to realize what that really entails. Now the superhero movies aren’t always that great. Superman gets beamed out of the sky. Batman collapses in an alleyway. Captain America is intombed in ice. The bad guys win sometimes, and Jack knows that, but the heroes, sometimes they die. They get up bloodied and limping, and sometimes they don’t get up at all. 

“He’s in Georgia,” Jess says, “he’ll be home in a few days.” 

Jack erases what he has down on his homework.

Jess watches him, “you’re going to end up with a hole in that paper if you keep erasing it like that.” 

Jack sighs, his head resting on his palm. His work isn’t wrong, Jack’s fairly certain he’s got the right answer, but it’s still not right. Not right enough. 

He hates Mondays. 

He hates when Jess picks him up from school because that means his dad’s already somewhere else. 

Tuesday somehow way worse than Monday. 

“You’re grumpy this morning,” Jess notes and Jack ignores her. She’s used to this treatment in the early morning. Hotch isn’t much of morning person either but more so, Jack just has better mornings with Hotch. He doesn’t want Jess to walk him in and even though she’s bargained a Pop-tart this morning in a small attempt to lift his mood, Jack sulks into the school. 

The PA system is very active and Jack hates it. The class falls to dead silence, fidgety excitement passed around while they cross their fingers in the hopes that it will be them who gets to go home early. But Jack’s heart pounds in his chest, terrified from the second that speaker dings with the incoming message. 

When his father is in Virginia, Jack anticipates along with his peers, joyously for the rush of being pulled from school early. If the chance presents itself, Hotch swings by to get Jack. Every year, at the very least twice, Hotch randomly pulls Jack out and they go to museums or the zoo or the park or wherever Jack’s been itching to go.

But if his dad isn’t in Virgina then there’s no good reason that Jack will be called to the office. He’s never been called to the office while Hotch isn’t in the state, but the day that he is, Jack knows it won’t be for the dentist or a doctor’s appointment like the other students. Maybe Uncle Dave would be there or maybe Miss Emily, but Aunt Jess would be. They’d meet him in the hall, the principal somber-faced, their eyes red from crying. And Jack will stand trapped, like the insects frozen in their amber shells lining his dresser. A mosquito, a beetle, and Jack – caught in their fossilized crystal moments. The day that their worlds cease movement, hazed over, and hardened. 

Jess’s phone pings on the counter and Jack looks up from his homework, watching Jessica’s face when she leans over from the pot she’s stirring on the stove to read it. “Dad says they’re on their way home,” she says. She turns over her shoulder to smile at Jack, “You finish up your homework and he might be here before you go to bed.” Jack doesn’t react so she tries to sweeten the bargain, “we can wait up for him.” 

Jack nods. He’d been too distracted to complete any of his work today. There was a vocab test today and Jack had only written down four of the ten words read out to him. The addition and subtraction worksheet slid in front of him liquified, black ink pooled to the surface, and floated around the page. It seemed every few seconds the class was being interrupted by the office calling down. Jack couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was sit and stare down at the worksheets in front of him.

Jessica’s noticed something is off with Jack and she’s tried to worm it out of him, but he doesn’t seem very interested in having that conversation with her. Her imagination has taken hold of the situation just a bit, and she fears the issue is another bully. She’d grown up beside Hotch, she’d known him at the age that Jack now is. She seems to be the only one of them capable of seeing exactly how much Jack is like Hotch. He reminds her exactly of Hotch at this age, so quiet and observant. She’ll say something to Hotch when he gets home, he’s far more successful at working out what’s going on in Jack’s head. 

“Alright,” Jess announces, “this soup is just about done, I’m gonna–” Her phone cuts her off and Jess leans over, seeing who’s calling her. She picks the phone up and takes it with her, heading back towards the guest room as she tells Jack to finish his homework, and that she’ll be out in a moment. 

Jack knows this routine. 

Jess becomes suddenly elusive, distracted. She lets him play in the bathtub until he gets bored of it. The phone rings again and she leaves him to get dressed by himself. Jack doesn’t dry off, he steps right into his pajamas, and he sneaks his way back into the kitchen, crouching down behind the cabinets and listening to the phone call. 

“Why didn’t you go earlier?” Jess asks, her fingertips pressed to her mouth. “That’s serious Aaron–”

Jack’s own hand finds his mouth, his fingernails sucked inbetween sharp teeth as he starts to attempt to chew through. If Hotch were here he’d notice, he’d shoo Jack’s hand away. 

“You’re being stupid, what you’re saying is stupid. You can’t be an idiot like this anymore – ” Jess suddenly becomes conscious of Jack, and where he is. She thinks he’s in the bathroom but still close enough to hear. She takes a deep breath and pushes herself from where she’d sunken against the counter, letting granite bite into her back and hold her upright. “Jack thinks you’re coming home tonight–” Her face scrunches up, “no, no you should definitely stay there–” 

Jack presses his hands against his ears and tries his best to not hear anymore, but he can so he stands and walks into the kitchen. 

“Hey Jack,” Jess says loudly into the phone, jumping, as she pulls the phone away from her face. Her face relaxes a bit, or at least she tries to relax it.  “I’m on the phone with your dad, go get up in the bed and he’ll tell you goodnight alright?” The phone stays down and Jack’s itching to know what they’ll say when he’s gone. But Jess prods him along and he leaves. 

They stay on the phone forever – twenty minutes, Jack watches his alarm clock. Jess never brings him the phone.

Hotch doesn’t come home for another two hours, past Jack’s bedtime but he’s still awake. The front door opens and Jack sits up in bed, listening for who it is. He can hear Derek and Jess from his room, but not a word from his dad. Fear encourages Jack out of bed, carefully venturing to the door so he can press his ear to it. He holds his breath, trying to make as little noise as possible. His fear builds on itself in the silence, and as they begin moving towards the hall, closer to him, it suddenly occurs to him that they might be coming back to his room. And if they do it’s only to tell him that his father isn’t coming home at all.

He’s wrong. They continue past his room. The sound of feet dragging on the carpet as Derek and Jess’ hushed voices carry overtop one another. Jack hears the slow groan of his father’s mattress – a familiar sound. One that would wake Jack in the middle of the night, a small sign of life in the middle of the night. A safety coveted. 

The sound was a relief and yet a burden, a weight that settled stiff and hard across Jack’s shoulders. Made his nerves jumpy – a wrong feeling he couldn’t begin to convey. Though he’d tried to before and he would again. Complaining of a headache or stomach ache. Unsure of the remedy or even the ailment that was plaguing him. 

And it plagues him now, a strong curl of writhing unease as Jack pushes his bedroom door open. The hall is dark and Derek and Jess have taken their conversation back to the kitchen. Jack glances once over his shoulder at them and creeps down the hall towards his father’s room. 

There is none of the snoring that Jack’s familiar with coming from this room. Only soft breathing. Jack creeps around the bed, to the side of the mattress most frequently left empty. It is empty save for his father’s left hand stretched out from the rest of him, uncovered by the blanket. Jack pulls himself up onto the bed. Holds tight to the bedsheets and jumps, he’d learned that trick a long time ago. His mother’s death had hardened Hotch irreparably, but as far as the man Jack knows, he is still just as soft as before – he remains incapable of forcing Jack to go back to his own bed to sleep at night. 

Curling tight, Jack pulls his knees up to his chest, pressing himself into the terrible feeling taking over him. But the bed is soft, so much better than his own.

“Jess?”

Jack jumps, startled by the sudden depth of the voice coming from what he had thought was his dad. He peeks up a little, just for visual confirmation, but it’s too dark.

Hotch pushes himself up on one arm, only able to combat the pain through the undeniable and just familiar enough feeling of knowing he’s going to be sick. Unaware of his audience, Hotch grunts, and whimpers, hanging onto the edge of the bed as everything sways and pitches forward with him. He pants for a moment, trying to gather himself enough to stand. His legs shake beneath him, and more than walking, Hotch lurches forward on momentum and gravity, falling heavily into the bathroom’s doorway, using it to keep himself upright. 

Jack can’t see through the dark but he can hear how hard Hotch hits the bathroom floor. The way his fingers miss and grapple with the toilet lit, until inevitably, and right on time, his stomach curls up tight, and he gags but is unable to bring anything up.

At first, frozen, Jack scrambles over the side of the bed. His legs get caught in the bedding and he lands with a thud on the ground, but he feels only a small ache over the panic ramping his heart back up. “Daddy!”

Hotch gags harshly into the toilet again and he raises his arm up uselessly, trying to shoo Jack away. He can see through the visible pulse now of his vision, which has tunneled in, darkened in spots, timed perfectly with the throb in his head, that Jack is still standing, watching. “Jack–” his voice is wrecked, nothing more than cracks. “Buddy,” Hotch tries again, “go get Jess.” 

Jack stands, shaking slightly with fear, trying to suck his tears back up.

Resting his head on the toilet, sinking to a new low, Hotch groans, a sound artfully echoed in the bowl. “Buddy,” Hotch coughs, “I need you to go get Jess.” His eyes close on their own accord and each breath is a manual thought, harshly pulled in through his open mouth, as drool spills down into the water below. “Please,” he rasps.

Blood rushes in his ears. He’s not sure what’s going to happen next but Hotch thinks this will kill him. The pain is certainly ramping up to a deadly point, like somethings burst and blood should be spilling out of his ears, or out his nose. Something’s got to give, and if it’ll stop this pain, Hotch doesn't care what it is. 

“Aaron?” He’s still leaning on the toilet and as Jess cuts on the bathroom light, he has no reaction. “Jack,” Jess crouches down in front of Hotch, and points Jack away. “Go get Uncle Morgan! Run! Go get him!” 

Jack freezes for only a moment before bolting, he runs as fast as his legs can carry him. He throws the door open and looks both ways down the hall before running towards the main entrance. He’s barefoot and it’s strange, he’s never been allowed to run down the hall, and he’s always wanted to, it’s not as fun this way. “Uncle Morgan!” Jack yells, he can see the older man on the other side of the building’s door, he’s just stepped out. “ Wait! Please, wait! Uncle Morgan!”

Morgan turns and when he sees Jack running towards him, he immediately turns back around, meeting the boy halfway. Jack grabs his wrist and starts pulling him back. “Something’s wrong with daddy,” he rushes, out of breath. “Jess said to come get you ‘cause –.”

Morgan takes off running, Jack somewhere close behind. He doesn’t bother looking back, going straight through the living room and shouting, “Jess?” Her calls from down the hall and Morgan follows, running through Hotch’s room to the bathroom. “What is it?”

Jess stands and moves back, “he passed out. I can’t wake him up.” 

Morgan moves quickly, stepping over Hotch and getting behind him. He slips his arm behind Hotch’s back, gently moving his head back, crouhcing lower, Morgan looks back up. “Go get the kid some shoes, I’ll get Hotch in the car.” With a grunt, he starts to lift Hotch from the floor, painfully careful of his head as Morgan tries not to jostle him. 

Over Jess’ shoulder, where she’s bent down shoving Jack’s feet into his sneakers, Jack watches Morgan carry Hotch out of the apartment. One of his arms is on the other side of Morgan’s back, limp and rocking with the motion of Morgan’s quick pace. 

“Is he dead?” Jack asks. He stands beside Jess as she grabs her own shoes, waiting for her to grab him too and lug him out of the door. 

“No.” This answer comes a little too quickly, not assuring, just positive. Unwilling. Hotch isn’t dead because Jess won’t let him. So, no. He’s not and he won’t until he’s good and old and Jess decides she’s done with him. 

Jack climbs into the backseat and Jess reaches over to buckle him in, before sliding into the middle seat and sitting up between Morgan and Hotch. Who looks dead, Jack thinks. He’s not exactly sure what that would look like, but Hotch isn’t moving. His head remains tipped back in the space between the door and the headrest. He’s not sitting up, he’s tilted and shoved into the chair the way that Morgan had left him. He doesn’t have his seatbelt on either and he doesn’t look back to check for himself that Jack’s buckled in.  

Morgan speeds and Jack watches the dark world outside whip by. 

What does happen if Hotch dies? Jack doesn’t like the idea. He can hardly remember now how his mother died, and though he knows it’s something that happens, he can’t imagine it could happen again. 

Jess scoops him out of his carseat and Jack lets her hold him. Over her shoulder, he watches Morgan throw open the passenger seat and stick his arms underneath Hotch’s knees and behind his shoulders. It’s not impressive, Jack can’t understand it, really. It doesn’t feel like this is real, or that the man limply held in Morgan’s arms is his father. He’s certainly someone, but… Jack’s dad? He’s not really sure how it’s possible at all. 

Jess runs straight through the doors, towards the first nurse that she sees. “My brother,” she says, turning back and watching the automatic slide shut. Morgan’s still in the parking lot. “He’s a federal agent, he was in an accident, he hit his head and he passed out–” 

The nurse sees Morgan, he sees the man being carried through the parking lot. 

Jess steps back and away, a stretcher procured and now being pulled to meet them as they come through the door. Jack turns with her, his eyes never leave Morgan, never leaving his father. There’s not a thing he can do to help but looking, being witness, feels important. He feels unable to look away, like he shouldn’t, so he can’t. 

“What’re they doing?” he asks, and he’s suddenly anxious, his brain putting together what happens next before he really knows. He tries to pull himself up over Jess’ shoulder, trying to see. “Aunt Jess, what’re they doing? Where’s daddy going?” Jack tries to push himself back, worm back out of Jess’ arms. He becomes suddenly frantic watching as Morgan meets the stretcher, not thinking twice as other men and women surround them. “No!” Jack shouts, “no, daddy! Get away from him! No!” He twists and jerks, trying to throw himself out of Jessica’s arms. “No!”

Hotch’s hand jerks on the stretcher and the elelastic of the oxygen mask slips over his head, the plastic fogging and muffling the weak but present sound that Hotch makes. A nurse comes around to his side, flashing a light, and again he emits the sound, his hand jerking up from the stretcher. “Sir? Can you hear me?” 

Hotch tries to sit up and Jack yells louder for him, only encouraging him further. Morgan steps inbetween them, taking Jack from where Jess can hardly hold him, pinning his arms down as he blindly throws his fist in any direction, trying to jerk, hit, and kick his way back to his father. “You can’t go back there,” Morgan says, but Jack keeps yelling, twisting his shoulders but unable to free his arms. He can see them pushing the stretcher back into a room, he can see his father’s head lifting, turning. “The doctor’s are going to take care of him, Jack. You can’t go back there.”

The door shuts and Jack continues crying but he slumps, smacking his head against Morgan’s shoulder. His face pressed into the fabric of Morgan’s shirt he sobs, his fist gathering handfuls of shirt. The fighting eventually subsides, more violent sobs take over and Jack screams, he cries as loudly as he can into Morgan’s shoulder. 

He cries himself to sleep in Morgan’s arms. 

“What the hell happened?” Jess whispers. She’s managed to wipe the tears from her face, and dislodged the ache in her throat, but her chest is still tight. A band of tension across her ribs. “How did this happen?”

Morgan looks down at Jack. His nose stuffy from crying, his face still wet and eyes puffy. He shakes his head, “I can’t–”

It’s well past her bedtime. This medical emergency is impeding on the sleep she needs to be the fun, cool aunt. No sleep means the jolly good Aunt Jess is not in the building. “Derek, I promise you, if you try and pull some ‘FBI secrets’ on me, I’ll punch you.”

Morgan huffs and moves his arm up, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. “Alright,” Morgan sighs. He distracts himself by rubbing Jack’s back, even though his shoulder is growing progressively wetter from drool, and tears. “In Georgia–”

“I know you were in Georgia.”

Derek cocks an eyebrow up, “you gonna let me finish?” He sighs and licks his lip, “our vehicle was hit. I was driving and his side… His side took the brunt of the hit.” He looks at Jessica, “I could hardly get him to sit still for the EMTs. I let him – I mean, he’s Hotch, you know, you can’t make him do nothing he don’t want to. So we left, we left the ambulance, and I tried to get him to go to the hospital, after – after we got the guy, but he’s stubborn. He was more worried that Prentiss got checked out, and she did, but the EMT said it was just a concussion so he didn’t think it was that bad.” Morgan shakes his head, sighing, “I took him to the hospital, had to trick him for that, but I couldn’t make him stay. So…”

Jess curses softly, leaning down and placing her head in her hands. After a moment, she sits back up, pushing her hair back up out of her face. She looks at Derek with the heat earlier dissipating, slowly being replaced by something sadder. “Tell me that he was at least… I don’t know, that there was a good reason or something.”

Morgan shakes his head, “no, he’s just…”

“A stubborn asshole?” Jess giggles and Morgan huffs, nodding, and chuckling along with her.

“A very stubborn asshole,” he agrees. Jack shifts, sighing in his sleep and adjusting his head on Morgan’s shoulder, and Morgan’s face falls. He clears his throat. “We were… The victim, the victims, they were… just little kids. When we crashed, we were chasing the unsub.” Morgan looks back over at Jess, “he had a boy in the car. Seven. Hotch, he lost consciousness for only a minute, and he got right back up. He was – he wasn’t gonna let that son of bitch kill that kid.” 

Jess nods, looking down at the floor. “Did you get him?”

Morgan nods, and his smile half tugs up. “Hotch did. Cuffed him himself.” 

“Good.”

It was good. When it happened it felt good, things felt over, it felt like a win. Prentiss needed a few stitches but she was fine enough to be angry with Hotch too. Morgan hadn’t pushed that hard for Hotch to get really checked out. He was exhausted, and by the time he and Hotch got to the hospital, Prentiss was done, waiting for discharge papers, and at that point if Morgan really pushed for it, they all would have been stuck in that hospital for several more hours. 

“I should have made him get checked out.”

Jess shrugs, “you said it, you know? He won’t do anything he doesn’t want to.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Holding Jack does nothing for his guilt. Morgan should have picked a fight, he’s never shied away from confrontation with Hotch before. But today he didn’t. “He just wanted to get home.”

They sit in the waiting room with nothing more to say. The hours of the night tick by and Morgan only grows more frustrated with himself. He’d skipped out on something important to rush home, and now he’s sitting in a hospital anyway. If he hadn’t been in such a rush, if he hadn’t let his exhaustion guide him, he wouldn’t have been so careless. 

It’s late, early morning by then, when a doctor comes out. Jess is resting her eyes and Morgan’s no longer tired. They peel themselves up from the chairs and follow where they’re directed. After being seated out in the waiting room for so long, they sludge back to room, relieved to at least be reunited. 

“Hey,” Jess goes right to the bed, watching Hotch’s half-lidded eyes track them. He blinks languidly and she smiles down at him, kissing the top of his head. “You scared me.”

“Mmm,” his head rocks over, “wasn’t thinkin’ straight, ‘m sorry.” 

She frowns at him but he can feel her cold fingers over his wrist as she gently picks up his hand. She sighs and rolls her eyes, “stop looking at me with your stupid eyes.” She tries to frown but it only maintains for a few seconds, “ I mean it. I’m mad at you.” 

The right half of his lip twitches up and he slowly rolls his head over to the left, “Jack?”

Morgan turns, showing Hotch the boy still out like light in his arms. “Kid’s slobered down my back,” he smirks, coming closer to the edge of the bed. 

Hotch’s hand trembles as he raises it up, the IV on the back of his hand preventing it from coming any higher off the bed. “Let me see him,” he asks, and he watches Morgan’s eyes dart over him, to Jessica he presumes. “Please, Morgan.” 

They’d raced home for this little boy and the please cracks right through to his heart. “I’m gonna lay him down here,” Morgan says. Unwrapping Jack’s arms from around him, Morgan leans down and gently lays Jack down on the end of the bed. Hotch inhales sharply as Morgan lays Jack down, the tips of his fingers grazing the ends of Jack’s hair. “Is that okay? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Hotch sighs but any ice in his tone decipates, as Jack stretches and rolls onto his side, wrapping his arm over Hotch’s leg, and pressing his face into Hotch’s knee. 

“You’re not fine,” Jess says. “You were in a car accident, you fractured your skull. You have broken ribs.”

“Cracked,” Hotch rasps and he means to turn to look at her but pain spikes through his head. “They’re just cracked,” he whispers, through clenched teeth. He presses his lips tightly together and tries to contain himself but it only increases, like a great pressure, a weight laid on his head. 

“I’m gonna–” Morgan stands, and motions to the door. 

Jess nods her encouragement for his unspoken train of thought, scooting closer to the bed, and holding firmer onto Hotch’s hand. “Are you in pain?” she asks.

Hotch releases the breath he’d been holding, pulling in laborious breathes a little too quickly. “A little,” he relents.

“A little? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I think I might.”

Jessica squeezes his hand, “Morgan’s getting nurse. Just hold on, okay?”

He tries to tell her that he heard that, he definitely understood, but his reply is cut short. Words are jumbled and all that comes out of his mouth a moan, a groan that deepens and is cut off breathily. His head tips to the side and Jess stands, leaning over him. “Aaron?” she can see his eyelashes move, “the nurse is coming.”

“I know,” he rasps, “my head–”

A nurse steps in, Morgan hot on his heels. “Morning, Agent Hotchner,” he greets, “I was just on my way to you.” He smiles down at the sleeping boy on the bed, “good to see you with some visitors. This the little guy you were worried about last night?” The nurse steps to the head of the bed, eyes flicking around, his attention eventually narrows to the IVs leading down. “Can you rate your pain, Agent? On a scale of one to ten?”

Hotch grunts, trying and failing to lift his head from the pillows. It listly slides to the side, his face has gone ashy, “seven.”

“Defintiely not an seven,” Jess says, she’s moved back from the bed, crossed her arms. “He said he felt like he was going to pass out.” 

“Thought,” Hotch grunts, his voice is a harsh whisper, “and I said might.” 

The nurse glances between them and continues with the task he started. 

“He has a high tolerance for pain,” Jess adds, “and a tendency to embellish the truth when it comes to… these things.”

Morgan nods from the corner, “he’s definitely lying. He’s stubborn.”

Hotch grunts but he can’t think to speak, he can hardly think to hear. Cold, gloved fingers touch him but something colder starts to creep up his arm, and then quickly he feels warm, very warm. “Nnm,” he rasps, his head feels less like something’s splitting it open, and more like hallow space between his ears, a vast, empty hallow place.  

“There really shouldn’t be so many people back here,” the nurse says. Pain treated, he can move on to the other things. “Can you step out for a moment into the hall, for a moment? I’ll collect you when I’m done.”

Eyes closed, breathing evened out, Hotch’s hand twitches. He drags his eyes open, trying to force focus out of his blurry eyes. “They can stay,” his speech has slowed, his voice softened. “Hm,” he turns slightly, “not Morgan.” He squints at who he’s fairly certain is Morgan and grumbles, “traitor.”

“What?” Morgan huffs, “Man– Nah, nevermind, you know what, I don’t wanna see you in your skivvies anyway.” 

Hotch smirks, “don’t think I’m wearing any.” He points to the nurse, “you take ‘em?”

The nurse chuckles, “I didn’t and you’re not.” 

Morgan leaves quickly, not eager to find out anymore than he’s already been told. 

Jess steps back away, stuck in a middle ground between watching what the nurse does and looking away to avoid seeing what she doesn’t want to. The nurse presses around his ribs and Hotch gasps, grunting – it’s not pain, but his body is still somehow aware this pressure isn’t right, that is should be painful. Somehow it’s still equally unpleasant. He jerks, his leg moving with it, and Jack immediately sits up. Sleep clings to the corners of his eye and as his tired brain process the information before him, Jess steps around, lifting Jack from the bed and moving him to the side. 

She tries to move herself between them. Hotch’s gown is open, the blanket across his lap preserves modesty, but doesn’t do much hide the scars across his chest, certainly doesn’t cover the black and blue bruises up his side. But Jack rubs his eyes, and stretches, pushing himself down out of the chair. “Daddy?”

Hotch bats the nurses hand away, turning his head and pushing his hand off the side of the bed. “Hey buddy,” his eyes are getting harder to force open. 

Jack ignores Jess’ request for him to come sit down, taking Hotch’s hand and folding himself up over the bed, lifting up on the top of his toes. He lays his head down and Hotch brushes his fingers through Jack’s hair, trying to tame the unruly strands. Jack reaches up, turning Hotch’s hand over and inspecting the IV taped down. “Are you okay?” 

Hotch tries to think of something but the mush inbetween his ears procures not a single intelligible thing. Reflexively, his hand goes back to Jack’s to hair, something else, not located in his head, guiding him back. 

“You remember what I said about wearing a helmet?” Jess asks, she stands behind him. 

Jack turns his head to look at Jess and puts his hand ontop of Hotch’s, “helmets are to protect my head. So I don’t crack it open.” 

“Yeah,” she agrees, “daddy wasn’t wearing his helmet–”

Jack stands, and with grave concern he asks, “did your brain come out of your ear?”

Hotch cocks an eyebrow up and looks over at the nurse. 

“No,” he says once he realizes the questions been deferred to him. “Your dad’s brain is still sitting snug where it should be.”

Jack narrows his eyes and looks over to Jess, “but Uncle Morgan said that’s what would happen. How come then?”

“Well,” Jess struggles for a moment. 

“Uncle Morgan’s not a doctor,” Hotch mumbles, “neither is your Uncle Reid but he’s always trying to argue otherwise.” 

“But he is a doctor,” Jack argues and he stands back up on his toes to lean back into Hotch’s hand. “Uncle Reid is a real doctor, he told me so.” 

“Mm-mm,” Hotch’s eyes close, and it takes him a long moment to force them back open, “math, chemistry and engineering.” He counts them off with his fingers and then they fall back to rest on Jack’s head. “No, ugh, biology? Anatomy? Whatever doctor’s study.” He glances at the nurse from the corner of his eye, and slurs, “’m a lawyer.”

“You’re a profiler,” Jess corrects. 

“Mm,” Hotch agrees, his eyes closed, “yeah, a profiler.” 

“You’re silly, daddy,” Jack giggles.

Hotch smirks and he manages to crack his eyes open to slivers, “you think so?”

“Uh-huh.” Jack turns back to Jess, “can I get up?”

“Yeah,” Hotch rasps.

Jess sighs and looks to the nurse, he nods his head. “I’m done here, for now. If you need anything, use the call button.” 

She’s adamant about it, but Jack kicks his foot up on bed, trying to get up himself. So she picks him up and puts him back on the bed. “Gentle,” she reminds him and Jack carefully crawls up closer and lays down. 

He curls onto his side, reaches up, “you've got scratchies.” Jack rubs the side of Hotch’s face, frowning at the feeling of his unshaved skin. “I don’t like it.”

Hotch turns his head towards Jack, his chin over the top of his head. “ ‘m sorry.”

Jess leans over, smoothing down some of Jack’s hair, “dad needs to get some sleep, alright?”

Jack nods.

“ ‘m not.” 

“You are,” Jess softy says. “Stop fighting it, just rest.”

Jack moves a little closer and falls still, but between his fingers he rubs the material of the gown now closed back over Hotch’s chest. 

Hotch tries to fight it but there’s not much fighting to it. At least his head doesn’t hurt, and he’s home. More or less. He’d rather be home but Jack’s here, and Jack’s safe, and nothing else matters.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction #jessica brooks #jack hotchner

[masterwords]

between you and me

Summary: Hotch & Morgan go out into the wilderness for a weekend survival competition. They're wet, muddy and happy. That's all. There isn't a plot here.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: a lot of swearing, dude talk, food, chronic pain (hotch), foyet & stabbing mentions

AO3: between you and me

Notes: I had this image of them being skilled and competent and really adorable in the woods, and this is what came of it. A lot harder to write than you would think - it's so much just snappy dialogue and vibes. Don't expect poetry. Also, it should go without saying but: I made this up. This is not a real thing, I just wanted to put them in the woods with low-stakes and the ability to have some fun together doing the insane type adrenaline junkie shit I know those fools would enjoy. So, I made up an incredibly silly scenario and went all in.

***

“Both of you?” Rossi asked with a smirk. Looks like a cat who just got a mouthful of canary. “How long ago did you put in?”

“They’ve been passing me up for five years, Rossi.” Morgan lamented his misery convincingly while Hotch just smiled in that gentle, confident but subdued way he had that said I win. Everything was a competition with them.

“I’m at eight. They claimed it was too hard to justify putting a Unit Chief out of commission for three days, what if I had to be recalled and there was no service? And then when they did finally select me…”

“Foyet. I remember.” Rossi almost hated using the man’s name, like it might bring him back from the dead. He was hesitant and let his eyes linger on Hotch for a moment longer than necessary, gauging his reaction. It had been two years but he wasn’t sure time really mattered when trying to heal something like that. To his credit, Hotch gave no real indication that it made any difference. He simply nodded somberly and agreed – yes, he’d been chosen, and then Foyet met him in his apartment and bled him out, stopped his heart, rendered him incapable of participating. And ever since then, they’d pulled the Unit Chief speech when he asked why he wasn’t selected but he knew – they were afraid of his physical status after the stabbing. He must finally have worn them down, or proven that he was physically capable. Or maybe they were just tired of him throwing his name in the bucket and had a pool going to see how far he could make it before he collapsed. He might be wondering that himself.

“And you still want to do it? Go spend three days in the woods miserable with no roof over your head, no bed to sleep in, no good food or hot running water?”

“Bold talk comin’ from a Marine…”

“Ever heard of the draft, smart ass?”

“Fair enough. But we’re doing it and yes, we want to do it.” Derek had no idea if Rossi was being honest about the draft situation, he’d known he was a vet but he realized he didn’t know that much about Rossi’s service. Didn’t seem like the time to ask, anyway.

“Will you be together or are they separating you?”

“No idea. We’ll find out at the debrief tonight, they’re serving dinner and giving us our assignments. I’m assuming we’ll be separate, can’t imagine why they’d keep us together. It’s gotta be like a lottery situation. God I hope I don’t get paired up with some DEA asshat.”

“It’s only branches of the FBI this round,” Hotch pointed out, leaving through the paperwork he’d been given. It was vague about most details, just dates and times and a whole lot of TBA. It made his skin prickle. “Awfully secretive.” That he muttered more to himself, but Derek heard and it got his wheels turning.

“Well, damn. And here I thought you boys might be getting a date night out of this.”

That made Hotch and Morgan both laugh. They did like things a little off the beaten path when it came to their personal lives, but that’s what you get when you put two adrenaline junkies together in close quarters – what they considered dates weren’t exactly things other couples might. They preferred a day out on their bikes in the mountain air to a movie night, and an evening at the swimming pool taking laps and sucking chlorine was better than a stuffy and expensive candlelit dinner. So to say that a weekend spent in the woods utilizing survival training skills instead of lounging around the house sounded like a date wasn’t far off base. Of course, in Rossi’s very wise opinion, he thought they could both better use their time by simply taking a nap.

As it turned out, they were partnered up. It was a department challenge, two from counter-terrorism, two from organized crime, two from BAU, two from the fugitive task force, two from political corruption and two from the cyber crimes unit. Hotch looked around at the people he knew and tried to imagine them in the woods, tried to imagine them with a better partner than his. “We’ve got this,” he whispered to Derek who simply nodded his approval. It was a competition, and the two of them were not in the habit of losing, even to people who were in far better shape than them. Derek had been battling a chest cold the week prior, though he seemed to be mostly in the clear, and Hotch had overdone it playing soccer with Jack and been dealing with some latent knee pain for the last few days. The medications they’d put him on after the stabbing struck him with only mild side effects most of the time, but the most cumbersome was the intermittent bouts of joint pain. It came and went, usually after he’d overdone it and he was very good at overdoing it. Overdoing it was kind of his specialty.

One day of training with Commander Stevens, a Navy SEAL who had the brilliant idea to put the FBI through the ringer. Just for fun, or so he implied. “Torture the pencil pushers,” was what Hotch overheard him whispering with some fellow officers. Hotch wasn’t motivated by needing to prove himself to anyone but he was certain some of these people at the tables eating pinwheel sandwiches from Costco were allowing their feathers to be ruffled by the insinuation that they weren’t tough enough. That alone would give him a competitive edge – he didn’t need to prove himself to anyone.

They had reported to Quantico at 6am for the first of it, bright eyed and coffee in hand. Derek’s cold was all but gone and Hotch felt good. Optimistic. They spent the morning in a classroom listening to the Commander lecture about survival in the Appalachians, people who walk the trail, how they get lost and how to avoid it. Survival for beginners is what Derek said later, and he prided himself on not being a beginner. The two of them had spent some time out in the Smokey Mountains, nothing close to the intensity of the next few days but they weren’t strangers to the area. After lunch they spent the afternoon brushing up on skills training, getting their equipment, learning the rules of the game.

“This remind you of those movies where bored rich guys are hunting dudes in the woods?” Derek asked as he tossed his 75lb backpack into their SUV and waited while Hotch did the same. Three days and two nights in the woods walking for upwards of thirty miles when all was said and done with a backpack that weighed as much as Jack strapped to each of their backs, that realization was the first time Hotch felt a little pang of anxiety. He could do it but he was going to pay for it.

“You and Jessica watch too much television.”

“No seriously. This is how they all start, they’re like oh you guys are the best of the best and you won this fantastic retreat or vacation or really high honor of some kind...then bam. You’re being hunted by rich dudes with fuckin’ laser guns you didn’t even know existed yet, some kind of military grade stuff you only see in movies starring Schwarzenegger.”

“Way too much television…”

Derek ran his idea by Jessica while they shared their last family dinner for a few days and she agreed wholeheartedly. Didn’t even miss a beat. “You guys be careful,” she said, clicking her tongue against her teeth. Jack looked on with wide eyes, taking in everything they said but not picking up on the sarcasm lacing every word.

“Is it dangerous?” he asked, trying to make some sense of it in the way young kids do. He still had trouble differentiating fact from fiction, cartoons from reality, and Derek and Jessica were not helping in the slightest. Jessica shot Hotch a look that said to tread lightly. He wasn’t sure if that meant lie through his teeth or be honest. Both felt wrong, and this question was her fault anyway...why should he have to be the one to answer for it? Didn’t seem quite fair.

“It can be, buddy. But I’ll be okay. I’ll be with Derek, and there are fail safes in place if we get into trouble. It’s supposed to be for fun. A learning experience and a game.”

“A game!” That seemed to please him.

“The most dangerous game…” Derek whispered and Hotch elbowed him a little too hard in the ribs.

“Exactly, Jack. A fun game. Kind of like camping and a race...capture the flag for grown ups.”

“Can we go camping soon?” Crisis averted. Jack was no longer concerned about his dads being hunted in the woods. Whatever that meant. He still wasn’t sure.

“Sure buddy.” An easy concession.

Even Hotch couldn’t help feeling a little trepidation when they were dropped into the woods by helicopter. That did feel a little too on the nose, a little too much like one of the movies Derek couldn’t stop talking about. It was meant to disorient them, and it succeeded. “Just like in SWAT,” Derek said as he checked Hotch’s pack and Hotch did the same for him. “You ready?”

“Born ready.” A bit of a stretch, they both knew. But the minute he was standing with this face turned into the wind, that adrenaline rush kicked in and he sucked in a breath of fresh air and helicopter gasoline and maybe he felt like it wasn’t such a stretch after all.

Derek descended the ladder first with Hotch right behind him. The sound of the chopper hurt Hotch’s ears until it disappeared over the treeline and they were left alone with the sounds of the woods. Without a word they each began surveying their surroundings – Hotch consulted his map while Derek walked around and got a lay of the land, checked out the views, climbed up a tree for a better view. In the end, they both decided on the same route. No argument, no issue. Off to a surprisingly easy start.

Jessica had guessed they’d be fighting over which route to take immediately and they couldn’t wait to tell her how wrong she was.

They walked and walked and walked. The air was heavy, the humidity oppressive. Hotch could feel sweat pooling at the base of his spine. Derek seemed to be handling it worse than he was – he’d already taken his long sleeves off. Hotch wouldn’t even think of it for a while yet. He’d rather have the protection from bugs. He can handle sweat.

They didn’t talk while they walked, didn’t want to waste precious energy on the first day – it’s all climbing elevation, steep hills that seem to go on and on forever but when they stopped for a moment to have a water break and a bite of food, they settled into quiet and pleasant conversation about things they saw, smelled, heard. Everything seemed to flow together seamlessly, the way Hotch would take the lead in places and Derek would slip by and take the lead in others. Instinctively knowing when one or the other needed a chance to suck wind in the back, slow down and smell the roses so to speak.

They managed almost ten miles before they decided to set up camp for the night. Everyone else had planned to stop around the 8th mile, before the big elevation change. It had sounded nice, too, when they stood at the base of the mound that rose before them, but they were both feeling up to a few extra miles and the weather held while they traveled. They watched a storm rolling in over the tree line and knew they’d rather be further ahead when it finally hit, just in case it took them longer to get going the next day. Having higher ground sounded appealing for a rain storm.

Quietly they set up their little camp, stringing a tarp between trees, getting their fire going, making sure they had what they needed before raising the rest of their packs up into the trees above, wrapped securely in tarp. They had each brought their own sleeping bag and wool blankets, just in case they were caught sleeping in a camp with others, but out here on their own they decided to pool their resources and get cozy.

It was a date night, after all. They’d slipped just enough off the path that they didn’t imagine anyone would wander by them if they slept a little later. It was safe.

The storm hit while they boiled their water to heat up their MRE packets. Out of their selections, Hotch decided they should have the biscuits and gravy with a side of chorizo breakfast tacos. Derek was appalled by his selections but when he looked at the other options he realized they didn’t sound any better. The first pang of homesick hit him then, as he crumbled freeze dried biscuits into a mylar bag and reconstituted their meal. He thought about sitting around the table with Jessica and Jack, with his family, and digging into a delicious warm meal that hadn’t been preserved before he was born. They had a good time describing the flavors of the meal, picking it apart like they were eating at a michelin star restaurant instead of out of mylar bags in the woods. Hotch decided that the biscuits and gravy weren’t half bad for space bag food, but the tacos were appalling. Derek could barely choke down either of them and refused to call them food.

It was soft at first, just the pitter-patter of fat rain drops falling through trees and plopping onto their tarp but soon it began pounding and Derek pushed in closer to Hotch as the ground absorbed the water and crept closer to them. “This is gonna suck,” he said, but he barely meant it. He was leaning against Hotch eating a cookie that was probably made when Rossi was in the Marines and mixing up a cup of powdery lemonade chock full of salty crumbly bits. “This would be better with vodka,” he said, setting the small paper cup to his lips. Hotch smiled and agreed in his sleepy way. He was halfway to lights out already.

The second day was all rain. They woke up wet and packed up their wet camp and set out in wet clothes. Derek threw his ballcap on and Hotch cinched up the hood of his rain jacket until hardly more than his nose protruded from the opening, and that was how they set out very glad they didn’t have to climb that first hill in the mud. The rest of the group was going to have some trouble with their footing. By mid-morning they both had the start of some serious blisters, Derek was freezing, and they were clinging to that small happiness that came with knowing they had given themselves a solid head start on the day. Not as far to go before they could set up camp, light a fire and try to get warm.

Hotch began limping by mid-day. Derek had just decided it was his turn to lead and slowed his pace to drop behind, let Hotch past, and that was when he first noticed. He wondered how long it had been going on behind him. He didn’t seem to care about trying to hide it.

Just a slight limp at first, becoming more and more pronounced as the silent miles wore on. Derek tried to talk him into a water break, a rest, anything. He couldn’t bear to watch it without trying to stop it.

“Derek, we’re three miles from today’s rendezvous and we’re hours ahead of schedule. We keep to the plan, we stop only we get there.”

“You’re limping.”

“And I’ll limp for three more miles.”

The way he said it so matter-of-fact grated on Derek’s nerves. It was the first time he could feel an argument bubbling up in his chest during the whole time they’d been out there. He swallowed it down and pleaded instead.

“Why don’t we just take a breather? You said it yourself, we’re hours ahead of schedule. A short water break, you can rest your leg and I can find my rain jacket.”

Hotch slowed his pace and turned to Derek, softening enough that he didn’t come across mean. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this weekend. “Your rain jacket is tied around your waist, and if I stop now, I might not be able to get going again at this pace. I don’t want to lose momentum.”

“Come on, man. I was hoping this trip would be fun, not miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“So you like limping through the woods?”

“Derek...if my ability to enjoy things was contingent on my body feeling good, I would lead a very different life than I do now. You know that my body has been different since Foyet’s attack and I think I’ve done a pretty good job of not letting it stop us from having fun. Part of that is knowing when I can push through and when I can’t. I can push through this. I can make it three miles. I believe I could make it at least five, if I’m being honest, but I’d rather not.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better…”

“It wasn’t meant to, it was just meant to let you know that I’m not stopping and I am having a good time. This is fun.”

“Yeah. Okay. What is it?”

“My knee.”

“The one you tweaked when we were out with Jack the other day?”

“The very same. Probably just the medication making an overuse issue worse. Please stop worrying and walk faster. Don’t let a guy with a bum knee out-hike you.”

They walked on, the banter predictably turning to light bickering, competitive shit talk, but always smiling. Derek figured it was easier to light up a small argument that would keep them both distracted for the last few miles than continue to try and get Hotch to stop. It was futile to try and get Hotch to do anything he didn’t want to do. That lesson had been a hard one to learn.

They came up on their check in point and were pleased to find that they were the third pair out of ten to pass through. Not bad, considering the limping slowing them down some, though Hotch had blamed it mostly on Derek. From there, all they had to do was find themselves a place to set up camp for the night and wait for everyone else to arrive. This was the only night where there were group activities in store, team building exercises that neither Hotch nor Morgan was thrilled about. They found a place a little off the beaten path, away from the crowd of people who wanted to be close to visit and talk about their experiences. They had no interest in making small talk. With the hope that those ominous clouds overhead would pass them by without dumping on them, they began to quickly assemble their camp. They were already cold and wet, their shoes were wet on the inside and Derek insisted that Hotch prop his leg up on the mound of his pack and put some ice on his knee instead of them hoisting the pack up the tree. They had two portable cold packs that wouldn’t do him much good, but there was a small creek nearby and Derek thought maybe later, if the weather held, they could go stand in it for a while. That would feel good on their aching legs and feet, sweet relief for both of them. For now, they ate some snacks and ended up falling asleep to the pitter-patter of tiny raindrops.

By evening, it was another full scale storm. No thunder and lightning, but soaking wet. No fires, which meant no hot food. Just huddling together under the blankets they had for warmth and eating the convenience food they’d stored – some nuts and dried fruits, granola, bottled water and beef jerky. Not enough to fill either of them up but they were glad for the storm and Derek hadn’t exactly been thrilled at the prospect of freeze dried beef stroganoff or chicken alfredo and peach cobbler that would just make him even more homesick for some real food. The weather had meant that the team building exercises were put on hold and they couldn’t complain about that, certainly.

Instead, they got a second date night, just like Dave had said. They tangled themselves together and shared the blankets for warmth, knowing that they had a definite advantage over anyone not involved in an explicitly forbidden (or at least frowned upon) workplace love affair. They had the kind of warmth that comes from being close, sharing body heat. Derek thought about Jerry and Mason from the fugitive team huddling like this and the thought brought him nearly to laughter.

“Hotch,” Derek whispered after a long silence, after listening to the storm rustle through the trees above them and rattle the tarp, thankful that there was no lightning. He shifted their bodies to get them off of the protruding root that was digging into his hip and curled up a little tighter. “You gonna be okay to walk fifteen miles tomorrow?”

Hotch hummed. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

“We can tap out. Take the day and just chill. No shame in that.”

“Not a chance. Why, are you tired? Do you want to stop?”

“What? No. What…”

“It just sounds like maybe you’re using my knee as a way out.”

“I am not.”

“No?” Hotch asked, smiling as he kissed Derek in the dark, nuzzling his cold nose into Derek’s warm skin. “You sure?”

“Man. Fuck your knee. I hope it gives out on you tomorrow.”

“No you don’t.”

“I’ll leave you behind, let you get snatched by the people hunters.”

“No you won’t.”

Derek sighed. “No I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I forgive you.”

Hotch’s knee held up better than he’d anticipated through the last fifteen miles of the trek. The ache was deep and kept him awake some of the night worrying that he was being over-confident, but by morning it had loosened up some. He was limping and in considerable pain somewhere around the fifth mile but they had a good time, and that was worth plenty of discomfort in his book. By the tenth mile Derek had himself a little limp too, his blisters giving him grief. It wasn’t so much a limp, Hotch thought, as it was a painful waddle through the woods.

“My gooch is on fire,” Derek said when he noticed Hotch scrutinizing the way he was walking. “Damn rain gave me some wicked swamp ass.”

“Derek…” Hotch laughed, shaking his head.

“What? You sayin’ it’s not bothering you?”

Hotch refused to dignify that with an answer.

The last day was gloriously rain free, and where they ended had even better access to the creek than their camp the night before. So they had to trudge through thick, soupy mud and fight their way up past landslides to get to the end...it would make the creek that much better. At more than one spot, Hotch allowed Derek to help hoist him up, pull him up a hill when his knee buckled beneath him and refused to support his weight at certain angles. He couldn’t even be mad about that, not even when Derek insisted that he piggy back to the finish. (Hotch’s staunch refusal to even consider it gave him a hearty laugh, the kind that fueled the rest of his walk. Put a pep in his step, as his mother would say.)

They didn’t arrive first, that was Jerry and Mason from fugitive and Derek assumed it was the thought of snuggling the night before...they were so appalled at it, they didn’t sleep, they just got up and finished the race. Hotch and Derek managed to come in a respectable third and were pleased with it.

“You think the richies got the cyber nerds?”

“We’ll never know,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes at Derek’s question. He had been surprised that the commentary on human hunters had been dropped while they were out in the woods, maybe that was due to his knee taking up too much of Derek’s thoughts. If that was the case, he was thankful for the pain he’d endured that much more.

As soon as all of the formalities were done and everyone had separated, tired and ready for a shower, Hotch sent Jessica a text to let her know where to get them. It was his first time turning on his phone in days and he was glad to slide it back into his bag, ready to kick out of his shoes and do a quick change into shorts and t-shirts for some time in the creek. Everyone else piled out, ready to return to civilization but they wanted to stick around a while. It was the best part of the whole trip, standing in the icy water, all blisters and swollen knee and swamp ass, eating handfuls of trail mix while they waited for Jess and Jack to come pick them up.

“You boys look rough!” Jess called, walking carefully down the slope of pebbly hillside toward the water while Jack and Clooney bounded quickly. No fear. Her feet slipped out from under her more than once in the loose packed ground that had been ravaged by the storms of the last two days. Hotch and Derek just stood in the water and watched, content not to move, just to stand.

Jack and Clooney played with rocks, Jack trying to skip them over the current and Clooney trying to catch them while Jessica attacked them with a barrage of questions from her dry perch on the rocky beach. She wasn’t about to take her shoes off and get in, she knew damn well that water was cold.

“No hunters?”

“No hunters,” Hotch replied quickly. Derek shot him a disparaging look and then glanced at Jessica.

“We don’t know that. We never saw the guys from cyber crimes come out…”

Hotch groaned. “I overheard Jerry from fugitive say that the cyber guys tapped out the first night when it started raining.”

“Sure they did. You believe that? They’re someone’s dinner, buddy.”

Hotch, with a smile, decided he’d had enough of the woods and was ready to go home. He hadn’t been able to take any pain medication while they were out in the woods, not wanting to dull his senses when he needed them, but boy was he ready now to make up for lost time. Jack watched his dad limp gingerly out of the water with a look of concern, and without hesitation Jessica reached out to take his hand. She steadied him as he struggled to find adequate footing on slippery rocks.

“Bum knee?” she asked, stepping dangerously close to the water in her shoes. He made an effort to move a little faster, holding her hand but not letting her do much.

“Yeah. Bum knee.”

“Let me help you old man.” She held his hand tighter and guided him out of the water, letting him lean on her for the short walk up the hill. Derek followed close behind with Jack slung over his shoulder and Clooney nipping at his heels. He’d come back for their packs once his family was securely placed in the vehicle and ready to go. They had a long drive ahead of them.

“He says he’s fine.”

“Oh, yeah, well he definitely looks fine.”

“I am fine.” Hotch was grumbling as he fumbled with his seat belt in Jessica’s little rust bucket of a car. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford a better car, she just didn’t want one. She loved her old Volkswagen Rabbit that required a special mechanic and wait times that were absurd for broken parts, with its rusted burnt orange paint job and bright flower decals that screamed Woodstock and Grateful Dead. Hotch barely fit in the car and he had to slide in sideways, bending his sore knees at an awkward angle to make sure Jack would fit behind him and Derek could slide in on the other side. Jessica didn’t let anyone else drive her car and she hated when Hotch was in the front seat, his long legs dangerously close to the stick shift. No way he’d fit in the back, though. “You should have brought my car,” Hotch said when she started the engine. It took two tries and at least ten minutes to let the old girl warm up enough that she wouldn’t stall out the minute Jessica tried to hit the gas.

“I hate driving that thing. It’s a grandma car.”

He had no argument there. If grandma car meant safe and secure, if that meant protected, then yeah. He did drive a grandma car. She drove a rust bucket and Derek had a motorcycle, one of them had to be responsible.

“Can we have PIZZA for dinner?!” Jack asked, thrashing around in the backseat and kneeing Hotch in the small of his back repeatedly through the thin, broken down old leather seats. Clooney’s hot breath from the back was overpowering. Hotch frowned and cranked the window down for some air.

“I want steak. A big juicy steak. One that came from a cow that was alive this century.”

“Jess, you up for playing grillmaster tonight? I don’t think I can stand that long…” Derek said, trying to stretch his legs out along the backseat, right over the top of Jack. His seat belt didn’t work anyway, and he was beat. A barbecue did sound nice though, Hotch had the right idea. A big juicy steak, some ibuprofen (and maybe something a little stronger for Hotch), some beers, and a long long nap. After a shower. He had mud in places he didn’t know mud could get.

“If I get to wear your apron and use your fancy spatula. You know the one.”

Derek grunted under his breath about that being his stuff, but he couldn’t argue. If it meant he didn’t have to do the work he’d probably agree to just about anything.

And as the sun sank over the trees, Jessica stood in Derek’s apron (that hung to her knees and looked ridiculous on a woman her size) and started getting the grill ready. She would enjoy getting the chance to be grillmaster for the night, Derek didn’t often relinquish the job. Hotch rarely took it, he preferred to lounge in the hammock, his one true indulgence. It was her turn. She set about cleaning the grill and seasoning it first, going through all the steps before slapping the big fat steaks on to sizzle while Jack and Clooney played. Hotch and Derek, freshly showered and medicated, were content to doze off in the hammock together and wait for their meal which they both promised they would wake back up for.

“If you don’t, Clooney will eat your steaks. There’s always the MREs in your pack for later. I saw one that said it was beef ravioli in meat sauce. Sounds delicious.”

“Why are you so mean?” Derek whined, his voice muffled and sleepy. His face was pressed into the back of Hotch’s head, Hotch who was already fast asleep smelling like sweet shampoo and icy hot. It hadn’t taken him any time at all once his eyes were closed. She smiled and shrugged.

“Go to sleep Derek. I’m sure the mosquitoes will wake you up before I do.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jessica brooks #hotchgan #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[juniperskye]

Too Sweet.

Based on the following ask from @reidstheyfriend : Hotch x innocent/sunshine! Reader

I got this idea listening to Too Sweet by Hozier. I just immediately think of Hotch when listening to the song. I feel like Hotch would think he’s too broken or traumatized for reader because she’s so sweet and her heart is full of love and joy and that’s something he loves about her. He’s worried he would corrupt her and that she deserves better. So, most of the fic I would say it’s Hotch longing for reader but putting distance between them. Until he can no longer take it anymore. He needs her. He loves her.

I especially see the line where Hozier is talking about working late away from the phone and it makes her worry. I see reader calling/texting Hotch at late hours because she’s worried about him and he is too caught up in work to see her calls/texts.

Italics -text message

Hotch x innocent/sunshine! GN Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1206

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Aaron really doubting his worth, BAU canon typical violence, mention of Haley and Jack, reader has a sister, no use of y/n, no pronouns used for reader, pet names (honey, baby, sunshine) let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Sunshine, you deserve so much more. I’m so sorry. I just, I want you to be with someone better, someone good.” Aaron said, his voice faltering.

“Aaron, wait. Let’s talk about this.”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. Aaron looked completely and utterly wrecked. You had a pretty good feeling that you knew his reasoning behind this conversation. Aaron had always called you his sunshine, he had said that you brought light into his life that had been long since dulled. You knew that Aaron had this fear of dulling your light, but you knew that wasn’t the case…you thought back to some of the things that had happened in the last few months that may have led Aaron here.

*Three Weeks Earlier*

Aaron had been working late, it had been a local case that was time sensitive. You knew this meant it was most likely a hostage situation or a child abduction, these cases didn’t offer a chance for the team to head home and sleep.

You had been keeping up with the case as much as the news and texts from Garcia would allow. You hadn’t heard from Aaron in a few hours, which wasn’t totally uncommon, however, Garcia had told you that the case had been solved and the team had been dismissed for the evening.

You figured he must be finishing up the reports and decided you send him a text before heading to bed for the night.

Hey baby, I know you’re working, I just wanted to text and let you know I am heading to bed. Jack wanted me to tell you he loved you when you got home, but I’m not sure when that’ll be. Honey, don’t work too hard…come home soon. I love you so much.

You hit send and set off to your room, after brushing your teeth, you slid into bed. After tossing and turning for a little bit, you hopped out of bed and moved to your dresser. You pulled out one of Aaron’s t-shirts and changed into it, adding a spray of his cologne. After taking a deep breath, your body immediately relaxed, and you climbed back into bed.

It was after three in the morning when Aaron came through the door. He made sure to be as quiet as possible as he moved through the apartment. He quickly checked in on Jack and then made his way to your room. His heart clenched as he saw you curled up in his shirt, clutching his pillow. He changed his clothes and brushed his teeth quickly before climbing into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle. You shifted closer to him and he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck.

*Two Weeks Earlier*

Aaron had been home for about two hours and in that time, he’d greeted you, grabbed a whiskey and gone straight into his office. Things at the BAU had been extremely busy, this had been the first night Aaron had been home in three weeks. All you wanted was to have him by your side while you slept tonight.

“Aaron, honey, why don’t you come to bed? It’s nearly daylight.” You suggest.

“I, know sunshine, I’m sorry. I’m almost done!”

“Aaron…”

He looked up at you, finally noticing the exhaustion in your expression. He clicked his mouse a few more times, signed one last form, then got up. He made his way to you and wrapped his arm around you.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Aaron said as he placed a kiss to your temple.

Things had been like this more often than not, Aaron consistently working late, be it at home or the BAU. He’d be up until dawn, sipping his whiskey neat, going over paperwork. You’d fallen into this pattern where you’d be waking up in time to say goodnight to him. Knowing he’d have to get up pretty soon, you’d make his coffee, not that it took much, he drank it black. Aaron would get up, make his way to the kitchen, grab his coffee, and give you a kiss as thanks.

“Sunshine, you are as bright as the morning.” Aaron smiles.

“Honey...” You’d blush.

*Present Day*

“Sunshine, there’s nothing more to talk about. I’m not good for you. You have stayed up waiting for me, time and time again. You consistently have to go to bed without me, have dinner without me. I mean last month alone I missed three dates, two of Jack’s soccer games, and the Halloween party at your sister’s.” Aaron trailed on.

“Aaron, honey, it’s okay. It happens. The BAU is a busy job, you’re literally making the world a safer place.”

You could see the emotions flashing across Aaron’s face. The inner turmoil he was currently experiencing made you reach out to him, gently placing your hand on his cheek. He brought his hand up to cover your own, leaning into your touch.

“Sunshine I just want you to be happy. You should be with someone who has time to show you how wonderful you are, someone who doesn’t miss dates.”

“Aaron, don’t you get it? You have made me so incredibly happy in the time we have been together. I got into this relationship knowing full well that you would be extremely busy and that you might miss some things…but that doesn’t bother me. Honey you show me your love and appreciation every single day. You have my favorite flowers delivered once a week, that way I’ll always have fresh ones. You leave me sticky notes on the bathroom mirror with sweet notes, so I’ll have a good start to my day. You put my towel on the warmer so I can be extra cozy when I get out of the shower. You make me lunch each morning, so I don’t have to. This relationship is so much more than missed dates and waiting up honey. You are an honest, kind, loving man, Aaron you deserve to be loved.”

Tears were falling from both you and Aaron. You just wished that Aaron could see himself through your eyes. After things with Haley, he truly had never been the same, he feared that his love only brought destruction. It had taken months of dates and persuasion (from Dave) to get Aaron to ask you to be his. The longer Aaron had been with you, the more he thought that he didn’t deserve your love. You were the best person he knew; you could bring a smile to anyone’s face through your presence alone. He couldn’t let his darkness cloud your sunshine. And yet here you were, proving to him that he too had light, light that he had brought to you.

“I’m sorry sunshine. I just, I get in my head. You’re just so good.”

“Aaron it’s okay, as long as you don’t still plan on calling this quits.”

“I’m not going anywhere sunshine. I can’t promise I won’t doubt myself ever again, but I can promise that I am here for the long haul.” Aaron squeezed your hand gently.

“Well, that’s good because you are stuck with me.” You smiled.

“You’re too sweet for me.” Aaron said before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fandom #thomas gibson #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #haley brooks #haley hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you

[jaspxr]

He's my nephew, and you're my family.

↝JESSICA BROOKS

[for @masterwords]

#for angela #because you deserve the WORLD #jessica brooks #jack hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds edit #cm edit #jasedit #jessica brooks edit #jessica brooks visuals

[softhairedhotch]

jack has complicated feelings about his father, and aaron finds a note that explains it. content/warnings: angst, alcohol/drunkeness, hints of hotchgan but no relationship, angry notes, angry jack hotchner, teen jack, arguments, haley's mentioned a few times, parent loss mention, hurt/comfort, happy ending!! word count: 6.1k also on ao3!

i can't handle change

Aaron pressed a kiss to Jessica's cheek and allowed a small smile to twitch at his chapped lips. “Hello. Is everything alright?” He asked as he got rid of his jacket. He placed his briefcase on the kitchen table, settling his go-bag down on the floor beside it, and began searching for his laptop when he realised that he hadn’t received an answer. “Jess?” He glanced her way and realised that everything was not alright. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were slightly wet with tears wiped away a few times over. Taking two large strides toward her, he reached out to rest a comforting hand over her shoulder, squeezing gently. “What's wrong?”

“Aaron…” 

Panic hit him square in the chest. “What is it? Is Jack okay? Are you okay?”

Jess shook her head with a sniffle. Timidly, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Aaron thought his heart might give out as time seemed to slow around him, watching as she unfolded the paper. It was jagged at the edges, torn unceremoniously from a small notebook–no doubt Jack’s considering there was a small dinosaur that said ‘you’re rawr-some!’ in the corner of the page–and she bit her lip as she stared down at it. “I found this,” she started, her voice shaking. “In Jack's room. I wasn't snooping, I swear, it was just on the side with his homework, and I was wondering if I should leave it, or throw it out, or, or, or, I don't know, maybe just not show you.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she offered him the note. “But Jack wrote this.”

Aaron felt numb as he reached out for it. He had no idea what to expect. He combed over every possible explanation in a matter of seconds, fearing the very worst, but nothing could have prepared him for what he found, yet it all felt expected once the initial shock subsided.

‘I HATE MY DAD’ was scrawled across the top of the page in a deep red. The ink bled through the page, Aaron had seen it when Jess had opened it up, but he didn’t realise until now that it wasn’t accidental. Jack was full of rage as he wrote it, pressing down on the pen so hard that Aaron wouldn’t be surprised if he found the broken felt in the trash. Underneath, in black pen, was a letter addressed to Aaron himself, short but in no way sweet. 

He needed some time to process before he read the rest. He folded the paper back up, inhaled sharply, choked on air for a moment, and let out a deep hum when Jess clapped his back half-heartedly. Mumbling out a weak thanks, he dropped down in the nearest chair, careful not to scrunch the paper in any way. Despite the harsh words he wasn’t ready to read, he knew it was delicate.

“Aaron?” Jess whispered, her voice sounding distant to Aaron even though she stood right beside him. His ears rang, steadily increasing in volume until it physically hurt, and time seemed to stand still. It was as if he was trapped underwater with no escape, banging fruitlessly at the sheet of ice that kept him washed away in the current. “Hey, talk to me.” She reached out for him but he ducked away, unfolding the note once more. “Aaron, this is just a thing children do. It's nothing to do with you, it's their way of getting their feelings out.”

“Jack isn't a child,” Aaron replied, voice sharp. “He's thirteen.”

“And this is what teenagers do, too. Don't let it get to you.”

Aaron shook his head, staring down at the page. The words swarmed together, becoming almost completely unreadable, and he could feel the anger–at himself, not at Jack, never at Jack–begin to take a hold of him. “I haven't read it yet.”

“What?”

“I've only read the top line.”

Jess nodded in response. “I’m not leaving until you’ve read it all then.”

He had nothing to say to that. Instead, he forced his eyes to cooperate by blinking until the fog had mostly cleared, and he mentally cursed himself for not listening to his doctor about wearing his glasses, even when he knew he was reaching the age where they were necessary. He took a deep breath and began to read.

I HATE MY DAD.

I wish I had a better dad. One who chose me instead of his shitty job. I used to think he was a hero, like Spider-Man, but now I realise he’s just Peter Parker. A man who never has time for his loved ones because he’s too busy saving the world. A man who saves everyone but not the ones closest to him. He’s not a hero, he just dresses up as one. How can I call him a hero when he’s the reason my mom died? 

Why did he save me but not her?

Aaron’s hands shook as he read it over and over. The words imprinted themselves in his mind and, once he was sure he’d accidentally memorised every word, the paper slipped out of fingers, gracefully falling to the floor. He dropped his hands to his side, clenching his fists and running his thumb soothingly over his knuckles, although it didn’t help.

“Aaron?” 

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Fine.”

Jess’ face crumbled, though she tried to hide it, and she gave her own curt nod. “Okay. Well, Jack's at Owen’s house. Do you need me to pick him up?”

“No.” What was the point in that, Aaron wondered, why take him from a place he felt safe, loved, appreciated, and bring him back to a lifeless home? That’s how Jack felt, right? “Let him have fun. I'll call Owen’s parents later and ask if they need me to pick him up soon.”

“They said something about a sleepover. We thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Aaron nodded again, eyes never leaving a piece of wallpaper that curled away from the wall. He'd been needing to fix that for years, ever since Jack tried to sneakily skateboard around the house in the early hours of the morning and fell off, the skateboard flying at the wall and tearing up the paper. ‘At least it wasn't your head’, Aaron had said when he was woken up in a panic thinking someone had broken in, and Jack had laughed in embarrassment. They'd eaten leftover pizza in the kitchen at 4am, and Aaron thought that life was good for once. Things were good. He was good.

But seeing that note, he realised none of that was true.

He wasn’t a good father. 

It was something he already knew, of course, something that nagged away at him constantly, no matter where he found himself. But realising that Jack knew that too, had written it in words, scared him more than he was willing to admit. It destroyed him. He’d never felt more like a failure than he did in that moment. 

Jess rubbed comfortingly at his back, hands as warm as they always were, but he was too numb to feel it. Exhaustion lay thick on his shoulders, weighing him down until he felt as though he might collapse right then and there, and all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep forever.

“You should go,” he whispered, voice hoarse. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“No, it’s, it’s fine,” he mumbled, leaning down to pick up the note. His back stretched uncomfortably as he bent over, the muscles aching from the strenuous work from that week’s case and the long flight home, and he let out a soft groan. He knew he should get a nice hot shower, or dig out an unused heating pad hidden away in one of the kitchen drawers, but he was too tired.  He needed to sleep. “I’m just gonna lay down.”

Aaron headed toward the couch and Jess tutted, grabbing at his elbow and using minimal strength to divert him toward his bedroom. He allowed her to take him wherever, too drained to fight, and she gently sat him down on the bed. “I can make you some soup,” she offered, “or some green tea. I have some in my purse.”

“Of course you have some in your purse,” he replied, huffing out a laugh. “But it’s okay. You’ve done enough, thank you.” He laid back on the bed, hardly bothering to cover himself with the duvet. It covered his legs and that was enough. “I just need to, just need, uh, just…”

He couldn’t finish his sentence; he was out like a light.

Jess smiled at him, a sad smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes (they never did anymore), and pressed a kiss to his forehead. She watched him for a moment, appreciated that he was allowed some form of peace in his sleep, and left, gently shutting the door with a heavy heart.

When Aaron woke up a few hours later, he couldn’t remember a single thing that had happened. His mind was completely silent–a rare occasion–and he felt calm. But then, as he wondered how Jack was doing, and where he was, and if he was okay, it all came rushing back to him.

Jack hated him. 

His son blamed him for the death of his mother, and he blamed him for never being around enough. Aaron understood, though, because he blamed himself for those things too. He always had and he always will.

Glancing at his watch, he noted that it was almost 9pm. He muttered under his breath and pulled up his contact list, scrolling through the list until he found Owen’s mom’s number, and dialled it. The call was quick–Jack wanted to sleep over, Aaron said that that was fine–and he dropped back against the bed with a deep sigh. He stared at the ceiling, hardly blinking, before forcing himself up with an angry huff. He knew he couldn’t wallow in self-pity, he had to do something. Anything to take his mind off things. To give him space to think about how to handle the situation.

Aaron changed into comfortable loungewear, avoiding the mirror in the corner of the room as he did, and made his way to the kitchen. His plan was to get himself a coffee, maybe two, and power through the pile of paperwork in his briefcase that never seemed to end. Before he could make it to the kitchen, however, he came to a stop at Jack’s bedroom door.

For a moment, he imagined that Jack was in his room. He pictured what he’d be doing–probably talking loudly to his friends as he played on the Xbox, or softly singing along to his music as he focused on his homework–and his heart hurt. He knocked on the door as if Jack was there to answer, and after a long silence, gently opened the door. He wasn’t there to snoop–he’d never–but he wanted to look around the place. He wanted to feel close to Jack, even though he knew his son didn’t feel the same way.

As he stepped toward Jack’s bed, the covers a dark blue with white spots, something Jack had picked out when he claimed he was too old for his dinosaur sheets, Aaron realised he couldn’t blame his son for hating him. Not when he knew how easy it was to hate a father. Not when he knew how easy it was to hate himself.

Aaron sat down on the bed, a groan ripping through his lips at the steep drop, and glanced around the room. There were a few pictures messily attached to a corkboard beside Jack’s desk, and he noticed that there were none of the two of them together. He knew they had pictures, he had one of them on his desk at work, and he knew Jack had a few printed out for himself, but it was clear he wasn’t proud enough of his father to keep those pictures up anymore. Ignoring the guilt that curled in his bones, Aaron laid back and stared at the ceiling. It was bare, the ceiling, but the fading marks of glow-in-the-dark stars were still visible. Jack had loved them when he was a kid, especially on dark nights alone when he was sure someone was going to hurt him at any moment, but as he grew into a teen, he’d torn them down. 

Maybe that was the first sign of his hatred, Aaron thought. Or it could have been when the bed sheets changed and no longer represented his personality. Or after his mom died, when he finally figured out that she was never coming home and he’d never see her again. Hell, maybe it was when Haley had left Aaron, before Jack could even put a word to his thoughts but knew how to feel hurt. How to blame.

Aaron’s head pounded, a constant thudding that refused to subside, and he forced himself out of Jack’s room before he could fall into a restless sleep on his bed. He headed straight to the coffee machine and made himself the strongest coffee he could before settling down at the dining table, sipping at it and letting it burn his tongue. He felt like he deserved it. Once the mug was mostly empty, he sorted through his upcoming reports through most important to least important and began working on the one needed early next morning. He caught sight of his go-bag on the floor and sighed, annoyed that he hadn’t had the chance to throw the clothes into the washing machine before he passed out, but he left it until he stood up for more coffee. 

Hours passed and he hadn’t even made a dent in the reports. He sighed, forcing himself up for his fourth–or fifth, maybe sixth?–coffee of the day, when the front door swung open. His first thought was to reach for his gun, too many years on the job training him for the worst, but then he caught sight of a tear-stained Jack and he hovered awkwardly between reaching for his weapon and staring at his son.

When the initial shock dissipated, Aaron moved forward slowly. “Jack?” He asked, freezing when Jack took a few steps back. “What’s wrong, buddy?” 

“Nothing.” 

Jack turned on his heel and sped toward his room, shaking off his jacket as if it burnt his skin, and Aaron followed him close behind. “No, don’t give me that. What happened to the sleepover?”

“I didn’t wanna have one.”

“But Owen’s mom said–”

“She lied!” Jack turned to face him, eyes full of so much sadness it physically pained Aaron to see. “Owen wanted the sleepover, I didn’t. I just wanted to see, to see if…”

Aaron held his breath as he waited for Jack to finish.

“I just wanted to see if you’d say no so we could finally spend some time together.”

All the air rushed out of his lungs. 

“Jack,” he started, but Jack was having none of it and slammed the door in his face. “Jack…” he called out again, voice weak. He hated feeling weak but it was unavoidable when it came to his son. There was no answer other than the sound of Jack locking his door, and Aaron hung his head. “I’m sorry.” It was a weak apology, one that stained his tongue with how false it felt, and he knew it, but it was all he could offer. 

Stepping away from the door, Aaron had no idea what to do. They’d never fought, not really. Aaron had promised himself that he’d never take his anger out on Jack, no matter what happened. As he made his way back to the kitchen, he felt ashamed. He stared down at his reports, unable to find it in himself to sit back down and work. 

Work could wait; it could always wait for Jack.

But could it? 

His job was hard enough as it is, even more so as a single father. There was never time to plan for events–he was either there, or he wasn’t. But he tried his best, he really did. And he thought that Jack knew that, and now he knew otherwise. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, he unlocked his phone and went straight to Jess’ contact number. His finger was inches away from calling her when he stopped himself, reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose to dull the ache thrumming through him. He couldn’t call her, not for this. He went to her for everything and she came running when he called, always so willing to care for Jack without taking time for herself. He had to stop asking her to raise his own son for him. He had to stop asking her to stand in for her sister. He swiped away from her contact and scrolled down further to Derek’s name, dialling it before he could stop himself.

Derek answered after the third ring. “Hey, Hotch. We got a case?”

“No,” he replied after a long pause, suddenly anxious. Why was he even calling? What was he even going to say? “Uh, sorry, wrong number.”

Derek let out a loud laugh on the other end of the line. “There is no way you just said that, man. Seriously, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I was meant to call Jess, it’s just, uh, something with Jack, and–”

“Is he being bullied again?” 

Aaron sighed. “No, it’s something else. Something worse.”

There was a shuffle on the other end of the line and he could hear the opening and closing of a door. “I’ll be over ASAP.”

“Morgan, no–” But it was no use, he’d already hung up. “Shoot.”

Derek was at Aaron’s door quicker than he expected. He knocked a specific pattern before letting himself in and making his way to where Aaron stood. A crate of beer was in his left hand, his phone in his right, and he grinned when Aaron glanced at the alcohol. “I wasn’t sure how bad, so…” Derek shrugged. Aaron reached out for a beer and opened it with ease, downing it in one go. “Woah. Very bad then. Should have gotten something stronger, huh?”

“Jack hates me,” Aaron grumbled before he could stop himself. The beer wasn’t enough to loosen him up yet but he trusted Derek. He always trusted Derek.

Derek raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching into a disbelieving smile. “No way, man. That kid loves you.��� A loud yell came from Jack’s bedroom as he raged over a video game and Derek’s eyebrows shot up even higher somehow. “What happened?”

Instead of repeating himself, Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out Jack’s note. It was scrunched up into a ball–he’d gotten annoyed and tossed it in the trash before anxiously scooping it back out seconds later–and Derek took it from him, slowly unfolding it. He read it, his jaw going tense, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, before folding it neatly and placing it on the counter. “Yeah,” Aaron spat out, reaching for another beer and uncapping it, sipping at it this time. “That’s what happened.”

Derek was at a loss for words. Finally, though, after he took several thoughtful gulps of his own beer, he shook his head. “That’s just what kids do, man.”

Aaron fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s what Jess said.”

“Because she’s right. Jack just turned, what, thirteen? He’s entering his rebellious phase, so what? We’ve all been there, man.”

“Morgan, we’ve seen children’s rebellious phases. We’ve see what can happen to them; we know what loss at a young age does to these kids.”

“So, what, you’re saying you think Jack’s going to become a serial killer based on this note?”

Aaron almost choked on his beer. “What? No!”

“Then what are you trying to say? Because from where I’m standing it sounds like you’re comparing him to the children we’ve had to put away. Those children are troubled; Jack isn’t.”

“But he is.” Aaron polished off his second beer. It wasn’t his drink of choice, he preferred the burn of whiskey sliding down his throat, but it’d do for now. He needed to stop thinking so clearly, so coherently, just for a moment. “He lost his mom at a young age, Morgan. He heard her die. Heard me kill the man who murdered her. He’s never gonna get over that, that trauma will follow him for life. And I’m never around. To him, he lost both parents that night. I know I lost myself that night, anyway.”

“Hotch–”

“And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Talk to him.”

“How?”

Derek shrugged. “I can’t help you with that, man, you have to figure that out yourself. All I know is that it needs to come from the heart. Tell him how you feel, let him know you love him, make sure he knows that you’re trying. Because you are, I know you are.”

“Not hard enough.”

“Cut the bullshit.” Derek stepped closer and their eyes met. Aaron couldn’t look away. “You are trying, man. I’ve seen it first hand. Whenever you have the chance, you wrap up a case as quickly as you can just so you can get a few more minutes with that boy before he falls asleep. And if you know you’re not making it home that day, you call him any chance you can get. I know he doesn't answer as much as you would like because he’s always busy with school or friends now, but I see the effort you’re making, man. You hearing me? You are trying, I can see it. And Jack will too, eventually, but right now you and Jess are all he has, and all he knows is that he sees Jess more than you.” Aaron opened his mouth to say something but Derek cut him off. “No, let me finish. Trust me, I am not saying that to hurt you.. I’m just calling it how I see it. You’re trying, man, and you’re doing your best. You’re a good dad, Hotch, I need you to know that. But Jack isn’t going to understand that unless you sit him down and talk to him.”

Aaron had no words. He turned his beer a few times in his hand but couldn’t bring himself to take another sip as he mulled over the words. They hit him much harder than he expected but he knew deep down that it was all true.

“Jack’s a smart kid,” Derek continued, clapping him on the shoulder. “He’ll understand if you just give him a chance. But for now, give him some time to cool off and think.”

“Right.”

“Which means that gives us time to drink, huh?” Derek beamed, throwing his head back to drain the last of his beer. “Let’s get something stronger, though, this beer ain’t cutting it.”

“There’s some whiskey in the cupboard over there,” Aaron pointed toward it, “help yourself.”

“Nuh-uh, I ain’t gonna be the only one drinking this stuff,” Derek laughed, grabbing the whiskey and two glasses. “You better join me.”

And join him he did. 

A few hours passed and Aaron was, respectfully, wasted. He knew how to handle his alcohol, he knew his exact cut-off point, but he’d exceeded that by almost three times. Derek matched his energy, drinking as much as he did, and the whiskey bottle was almost empty by the time they were both falling asleep on the couch. 

“I meant what I said, by the way,” Derek spoke up, words slurring as he tried–and failed–to sit up. Instead, he chose to lay down across the couch, flicking his long legs over Aaron’s. Aaron didn’t have enough energy to push his legs away. “You’re a good dad.”

“You’re just saying that because you feel like you have to.”

“Nope,” he replied, popping the P. He laughed at himself afterwards, a small chuckle turning into roaring laughter that had him sliding off the couch, before he managed to compose himself. Aaron laughed alongside him for a short while, the alcohol making him feel like he was floating, but reality crashed down on him once again and guilt seeped into his bloodstream. “Saying it because it’s true.”

“Whatever, man.” 

Derek raised an eyebrow, laughing again. “Did Aaron Hotchner just say ‘whatever, man’? What’s next, you gonna rock up to work in a hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts? You gonna hang a surfboard on your wall instead of a bike this time?”

“Please… don’t remind me of the bike.”

“I will remind you of the bike, man, because seriously, what was that?”

Aaron shrugged. “I was in my biking phase. It reminded me of my time back in Seattle. It was…”

“It was funny, that’s what it was. But healthy, too.” Derek thought for a moment and gasped dramatically, reaching forward to lightly slap at Aaron’s upper arm. “Hey, we should go biking together.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Right now?”

“Jesus, not right now. I think I’d throw up just trying to sit on the damn thing.”

Aaron groaned and held his stomach. “Don’t mention throwing up or I’ll throw up.”

Derek covered his mouth with hand and Aaron closed his eyes to steady his swimming vision. Behind them, Jack’s bedroom door opened, and Aaron tensed as he focused on the tentative footsteps heading toward the bathroom. Derek began to talk about a brawl he witnessed at a local pub to fill the silence but Aaron wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts drowned out Derek’s voice, far more violent than the fight he was explaining, and when Jack came back into the room, the sound of footsteps was all he could hear.

“Hey Jack!” Derek said, sitting up with a smile on his face. “How’s it hanging?”

“Alright.”

“Come on, man, I haven’t spoken to you in ages!”

“Morgan,” Aaron warned, voice low. “You said to give him some time.”

“Yeah, from you,” Derek shrugged. “But who needs time away from Uncle Derek?”

Jack eyed them, unamused. “I need to go back to my game, Uncle Derek. It was nice seeing you.”

“Jack,” Aaron started, turning to face his son. At the sight of him, however, all words escaped him and all he could do was stare.

Rolling his eyes, Jack turned away from them and pushed open his bedroom door. “Wow, nice talk, Aaron.” And as if that wasn’t enough, he slammed the door so hard Aaron was sure there’d be a noise complaint in the morning.

“Holy shit,” Derek muttered, sitting up so fast his neck cracked unpleasantly. “Did he just…”

Aaron felt sick to his stomach. “He did.”

“And you’re just gonna let him do that?”

“For now, yes.” Aaron reached for the last of the whiskey and opened the bottle, throwing it back without bothering to pour a glass. “You should leave.”

“No way am I going to leave after–”

“Derek. Leave.” His voice was desperate; Derek had never heard him so vulnerable before. “Please.”

“Okay, man, sure, yeah. I’ll, I’ll leave.” Derek stood up, stumbled, and looked around as if he couldn’t physically get himself to move. “But only after I know that you’re okay.”

“Morgan–”

“No, Aaron. Only after I know you’re okay.”

Aaron was too tired to argue. 

The next day, Aaron woke up in bed and had no clue how he got there. All he knew was that his head was throbbing, his body felt weak, and he was wrapped up in his sheets like a newborn. Derek must have tucked him in. The thought made him flustered, albeit not entirely unpleasantly, and he pushed it aside as he forced himself out of bed.

Feeling gross, Aaron made his way to the shower and put the temperature as high as it could go, stepping in the moment it reached its peak. The water burned him, his skin quickly becoming bright red, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He stood there for what felt like hours before getting out, not even bothering with cleaning himself. He had no energy to commit to a task that felt so menial. Throwing on the first clothes he could find, Aaron finally allowed himself to enter the kitchen and make himself a coffee. To his surprise, though, Jack was there, making himself cereal, and at the sight of his dad he began to walk away, leaving everything on the counter.

“Jack.”

“Leave me alone.”

A switch flicked in Aaron’s head. He wasn’t going to take this anymore. “Jack Hotchner, you listen to me right now.”

Jack paused, stood still for a few moments, and slowly turned around. He looked nervous, not used to his dad taking such a sharp tone with him, but he nodded nonetheless. “Okay.”

“We are gonna sit down and we are gonna talk. Man-to-man. How does that sound?”

“It sounds… awful,” Jack said, but he managed a small smile. “But okay.”

Jack moved toward the couch and Aaron quickly made himself a coffee, grabbing both the mug and bowl of cereal before sitting beside his son. He passed Jack his cereal and watched him intently, waiting for him to take a few bites before talking. “Jess found something you wrote and she showed it to me.” Jack tensed but continued to silently eat, avoiding Aaron’s eyes. “On it, you said you hate me.”

“Dad, I–”

“Oh, so it’s dad now?” 

Jack looked incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry. I really, uh, really shouldn’t have called you by… something other than Dad. You didn’t, like, deserve that.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have, and I didn’t. But we need to talk about it, okay?” Aaron took a few sips of his coffee before placing his mug on the table beside him. “I understand that I’m no hero, especially not to you. Not after…” Aaron swallowed nervously. “Not after mom. I know that. But I do try, I need you to know that.”

Jack nodded. “You’re just… never mind.”

Aaron reached out and clasped Jack’s shoulder firmly in his hand. He waited patiently until Jack found enough courage to look up at him. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

“You’re never around.”

“I know.”

“And I need you around.”

A tear threatened to escape Aaron’s eye. “I know.”

“I don’t hate you, Dad. I was just… I was angry. You hadn’t been home in a week and all I wanted to tell you was some good news I got and I couldn’t.”

“You can always call me.”

“Sometimes you don’t answer,” he sighed, looking away again. He stirred his cereal but didn’t bother to eat anymore. “And I know it’s because you’re on a case, and you’re out there risking your life to save people and make the world a better place, but it hurts. And I wanted to tell you in person.”

Aaron nodded somberly. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Nuh-uh, we’re having a serious talk here.”

“Wow,” Aaron chuckled, “okay then. I guess I’ll reprimand you more and–”

“Oh, no.”

“–then you can tell me, huh?”

“I regret what I said, can I take it back?”

Bumping his shoulder against Jack’s, Aaron smiled. “After I say the rest of what I need to say.” Jack groaned, and Aaron rolled his eyes playfully. “I know you don’t hate me, buddy, but those words you wrote really hurt.”

“More than when you got stabbed?”

Aaron winced. “Way more. But we can move past that, it’s fine. I want to ask you something.”

“Okay…”

“If I were to take… time off work, how would you feel?”

“More than two days this time?” Jack asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Maybe even three days?”

“Alright, don’t get too sassy now, bud. You’re still in trouble. But, yes, more than two days, and more than three. What if, what if I…” Aaron couldn’t believe what he was about to suggest. “What if I left the job?”

“What?” Jack’s mouth hung open. “No, Dad, I’m not asking you to do that. You love your job.”

“I know you’re not asking, Jack. I’m offering. And yeah, I do love the job, but I love you more. And, truth be told, it’s getting too much for me.”

Jack's face became one of concern and he sat up straight, scrutinising Aaron from head to toe. If it wasn’t so endearing to witness, Aaron’s sure he’d have broken down right then and there. He looked so much like Haley when he looked at him like that. “Did you get hurt on the last case? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Aaron moved Jack’s bowl away from the two of them before pulling Jack into a hug. He squeezed him tightly and took a deep breath before answering. “No, bud. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Really?” 

“Of course. You’re the best kid I know.”

Jack wrapped his arms around Aaron’s neck so tightly that he feared he might really need to go to the hospital if he kept up with that grip. He was growing stronger each day, both mentally and physically, and Aaron felt emotional at the thought. “Aren’t I, like, the only kid you know.”

“You really, like, believe that?” Aaron said, mocking him gently. 

Pulling away, Jack laughed. “Don’t make me take back everything I just said.”

“Oof, bud, too soon.” 

“Sorry,” he shrugged, not looking apologetic in the slightest. “Does this mean we’re okay?”

“Of course we are. I don’t think you could do anything that would end up with us never okay again.”

“Even if I keyed your car?”

“You what?!”

“Oh my god, Dad, it’s a joke, it’s a joke I swear,” Jack said through laughter. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t do well with jokes.”

“No, I suppose I don’t,” Aaron replied, dropping his shoulders in relief. “That was always your mom’s thing.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence, both reminiscing over Haley. Aaron remembered how hard she’d laugh at her own jokes and the way she’d light up the room as she did. She always worried that it was annoying but Aaron promised her that it’d never annoy him, and it never did. She was endlessly brilliant to him, and always would be. Looking at Jack, he felt the same way.

“So,” Aaron started, breaking the silence. Jack looked up at him expectantly. “What was the good news you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh.” He grew sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly, and Aaron cocked his head, intrigued. “Uh, well, promise not to get mad?”

“Now I’m worried, so I don’t know if I can make that promise.”

“It’s not bad, I swear.”

“Okay… I promise.”

Jack took a deep breath, wringing his hands together in his lap. “I kinda, sorta, maybe, just might, I don’t know–”

“Jack.”

“Ihaveagirlfriend.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I have a girlfriend.”

It took a few seconds for it to register in Aaron’s mind. At first, he wanted to demand information so that he could send the names to Penelope for background checks on her parents and her parents’ parents, but he refrained from saying that out loud. His second thought was that Jack was too young to have a girlfriend, but then he remembered his first kiss was with a boy behind the school bins when he was seven, so he couldn’t say anything. And then he remembered what his own father did to him when he told his parents he had a girlfriend when he was eleven, and how it took months for that broken arm to heal, and he realised that he was nothing like his father. “That’s great, buddy. What’s her name?”

“Lola.”

Aaron smiled. “That’s a pretty name. Tell me everything.”

Jack beamed up at him and scooted closer so that he could lean into Aaron’s side, burying himself even closer when Aaron grinned back and wrapped his arm tightly around his shoulders, before he began to ramble about his new girlfriend. They’d met at school in art class and she had the sweetest laugh, according to Jack, and he was sure he was going to marry her. As Aaron listened, he thought back to Haley, and he couldn’t help but feel so proud. Things were good again, and this time he was sure they’d stay that way.

#aaron hotchner #jack hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner and jack hotchner #aaron hotchner & jack hotchner #jessica brooks #haley hotchner #derek hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #sad aaron hotchner

[sleuthy-scientist]

Time After Time - Chapter Ten - After all that we've been through, I will make it up to you.

Let me know if you would like more images to go along with the story, cause I've got them. It think having more will add a little something something to the chapters, but let me know what you think about that and the story so far. Also, full fic in order can be found here⬇️

Here's the newest chapter.......

Aaron had never truly understood why Jack stopped asking about Emily. He used to mention her multiple times daily, talking about all the plans he wanted to make with her when they got to go home. And then one day, months after they were deemed free and safe, Jack stopped asking, cold turkey.

Aaron could never quite figure out why, especially after he had been so adamant about seeing her or calling her for so long. He noticed it was also around this time his son became withdrawn. Jack just seemed angry at the world in a way so uncharacteristic of the sweet little boy he raised. At the time, Aaron hadn't wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth, he was just glad not to hear him say her name, knowing he would never forgive himself for hurting her.

And now, he hoped Jack could handle this change, because Aaron needed to make this right. He knew if for some reason Jack couldn't accept Emily and/or Grace in his life, this could become even more of an impossible challenge. He just hoped his son took the news well, that for now one thing went in his favour.

Aaron was glad at least he had been able to somewhat smooth things over with Jessica for the time being. That she was magnanimous, and wasn't treating him in a hostile manner, they both knew he would have been more than justified receiving. Aaron was well aware she was right, he might need to rely on her help as a familiar buffer and support, for this moment he told Jack about Grace.

After his phone with Emily, him and Jessica had a pleasant breakfast/brunch, while they waited for Jack and Dave to return. They had just finished eating, clearing their plates, when the two returned.

It was safe to say Jack had been estatic to see his aunt, and catch up with her. But Jack was wary, they were all acting too cheerful, added to that, Aunt Jess and Uncle Dave kept looking over at his dad as if there was something they were trying to say without his permission. He almost immediately knew he was being left in the dark about something important.

"I know there's something you're all not telling me dad. I'm old enough to understand things, and you promised you weren't going to keep secrets from me anymore. You, Uncle Dave, and Aunt Jess have all been acting strange, and you've been avoiding me since we got here last night."

Aaron knew there was no more stalling he needed to come clean. It was now or never.

"Hey Jack, your right and we need to talk, man to man. Also I invited Jessica over in case you would like to spend some time with her after we talk. I know you missed you aunt, and you might need a safe place and space from me. We need to talk about a sensitive topic, and I need you to hear me out and try not to storm out until we've finished our discussion."

Aaron could see the way Jack was focused on him studying his every move. When he saw the boy cock his eyebrows, he knew he the anticipation was making Jack anxious and he had to just come out and say it. Rip the bandaid off.

He took a deep breath, releasing it in a hurry with his statement. "It's about Emily."

Jack responded immediately, with a malicious uncharacteristic of the boy. "I don't want to talk about her, we are fine without her. I know you think you still love her, but I don't want her in my life. We are fine without her dad, you told me it was over 5 years ago. I know she's why we didn't come back after we were safe. I don't ever want to see that woman again, she's only going to hurt you dad."

Aaron was flabbergasted at the way his son reacted so viscerally. The way Jack avoided saying Emily's name, either out of spite, or an unconscious need for self protection. Neither bode well and made Aaron uneasy about how his son might react to the rest there was to tell.

"Woah Jack, I don't know where this hostility for Emily is coming from, it was my decision to end things with her. Not that we ever explicitly had that conversation about the topic. She never wanted us to break up, she always thought we were coming back after they stopped Mr.Scratch."

Jack was having none of it, sick of his father covering for her, as he had done so frequently over the last 5 years. "No don't that, don't defend her, she moved on with us. She didn't wait for us to come back to go play house with some other guy. I won't let her hurt you again dad. She destroyed you before, you weren't the same after."

Aaron was confused by how adamant and passionate his son was about the words and things he was saying. He wasn't sure where he got it in his head that Emily hadn't wanted them to return. "Jack I'm not sure I follow, I think you might be confused or have things jumbled. What are you talking about buddy."

Jack was exasperated, his patience wearing thin, knowing he couldn't full protect his father and prevent him getting even more heartbroken anymore. "You told me after giving it careful thought and consideration we weren't returning. But, I skyped her, hoping she would listen, and if I reasoned with her, she could talk some sense into you, I wanted to come back. I saw her dad, it was almost a year after we were in the clear."

Jack paused knowing this next revelation was going to hurt his father. "But dad, she had some baby with that guy. We were hiding, scared for our lives and she was off playing house without us. How could she do that to me and you, how could she pretend she loved us and betray you like that dad."

Aaron wanted to laugh and cry, not sure how his son had come to this conclusion. He was talking as if it had been a secret he had been keeping under lock and key for years. And suddenly it was clear, the timing of his son's odd behaviour back then. "Jack, I promise you buddy that's not what happened."

Jack couldn't believe how obtuse and blind his father was about her. "No you don't know dad, you don't need to defend her anymore. You didn't see that British guy kiss her cheek and call her darling, or the baby he was holding call her mama. She cheated on you while we were gone, she didn't wait at all. She obviously moved on right away with her life. I don't ever want to see her again."

Aaron was beyond confused, knowing he had to be talking about his little sister. "Jack buddy what are you talking about? Wait a second you know about Grace?"

Jack was ready to scream and shout at his father's lack of anger and reaction to what he had revealed to him. "I don't know who the hell Grace is. But, when I skyped Emily, that blond guy from her office in England answered her laptop with a baby on his lap. He immediately called for Emily, and she came into the room in her bathrobe like she had just gotten out of the shower. He said darling there is someone who wants to talk to you. And then the baby on his lap started squealing and chanting, excitedly calling Emily mama."

Everyone present could feel the palpable emotion threatening to suffocate the room. None of the adults knew quite how to instantly respond to Jack's revelation.

Jack continued explaining, knowing his dad might be in shock. "I was so fucking angry, I hung up right away and blocked her from ever calling back. I swear I never contacted her again Dad, I absolutely hate her for having the audacity to hurt you and me like that."

Aaron couldn't believe Jack had known about Grace, that he could have said something years ago, giving him a chance to fix things then. But, he knew Jack wasn't to blame, he couldn't have possibly known. Him misunderstanding the situation was understandable consider the circumstances and context at the time.

"You know I don't condone swearing young man, and you don't hate her. Given the confusing situation, I'm willing to let it slide. But, why didn't you tell me that happened buddy. You shouldn't have had to deal with keeping that all bottled up by yourself. I wished you had told me about it then."

Jack was seeing red, he couldn't believe how calm, collected and ridiculous his father's reaction was to finding out Emily had a kid without him. He was ready to storm out in anger when his father put his hand up to stop him.

"Jack, bud I'm not mad you didn't tell me, and I'm not mad at her, it's really not what you think. First of all I'm assuming the blonde British guy you saw is Emily's friend Clyde from Interpol."

Jack couldn't remember his name at the time, but Clyde did sound familiar, but in the grand scheme of things it hadn't been that important of a detail. "Well he was obviously living with her dad, and what about the baby, how do explain that?"

Aaron sighed, knowing how complicated and convoluted his explanation would sound to his son."Clyde and Emily are just friends, they've known each other for years. And Jack the baby's name is Grace, and there is no easy way to shield you from finding out like this, but, she's your little sister."

Jack looked back up at his father his face losing all colour. He was suddenly feeling lightheaded and wasn't sure he had heard his father right. Because that would mean Emily didn't betray his father and him. Nothing felt like it was adding up, except the bile building in throat, causing his need to vomit.

Aaron could see his son was shocked, seconds away from either entering fight or flight mode or getting sick. "And before you storm away, I didn't know, but Emily was pregnant when went into hiding. She gave birth to your little sister a few days before they stopped Mr.Scratch. She never cheated, or tried to replace us or move on. I'm Grace's father."

Jack's head was spinning, spitting out plausible theories and explanations. The most prevalent one, the only one that made sense to both his head and heart was she had to be lying now to cover for herself.

Jack couldn't believe how ridiculous his father was being, that Emily had sucked him back in with such bullshit lies. The alternative, that him and his father had both hurt and abandoned her, leaving her terrified and alone with his baby sister, it was too devastating for him to even consider.

It would mean everything he had thought about Emily the last 4 years had been wrong. That the hatred for her that had settled in his heart had never belonged there. That she was innocent of all wrongdoings, him and his father had done the betraying, and they were the real villains in the his story.

The implication of that plausible scenario was complicated, too much for his developing brain to fully process in that moment. So he settled on the one that was easier to swallow than the poison guilt he may have accidentally concocted.

"No dad, don't cover for her, she never told us about the baby. She never called me or you after we were safe or asked us to come home. She was probably trying to hide the truth, because you caught her and she didn't want you to find out she betrayed us."

Aaron could feel his heartbreaking knowing the full extent of what his son had been thinking the last 4+ years. And how that illusion was shattered, and Jack was ready to unravel at the seams, all paths leading to the truth were littered with embedded shards of anguish that were impossible to navigate around.

Aaron was just grateful they weren't lined with deadly landmines. As this currently stood, any pain or injury incurred was still relatively manageable or fixable with time, ongoing care and proper attention. They would heal together.

"Oh Jack honey, I promise you that's not what happened. Let me try to explain. Emily tried to tell me about Grace, she sent me letters every month under an alias when we were hiding, and even some after. But, I just...., I couldn't bring myself to open them. At the time, I knew I had hurt Emily, running away without saying goodbye. I didn't have an inkling it was so much more than that."

Aaron could see from his son's face, the truth was finally starting to set in. He had to tell him the rest, so he didn't wrongfully blame Emily anymore. Aaron was hoping it would also alleviate or absolve his son from any guilt he might feel later knowing he had jumped to the wrong conclusion.

"Emily tried to call after Scratch, she did, I just ignored her calls and eventually blocked her number. I talked to Dave once, and asked him to tell Emily not to try to contact you. That I needed to stay away from her, and the dangerous life we left. He tried to persuade me to come back and so did you Aunt, multiple times."

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. It didn't appear from Aunt Jess's and Uncle Dave's expressions like his father was joking or had made a grave mistake with what he was saying. That could only mean....... Emily had done nothing wrong and his father was the only one to blame.

Jack couldn't see straight with the revelation he had a little sister that would be around 5 years old now. And he missed knowing her for her whole life so far."But what about Grace, that means you knew about her and kept me away from my sister. What the hell, how could you do that to me, to her, to both of them."

Aaron hated knowing his son would never look at him the same way again, and that all the blame was his own. He sighed, trying to brace himself for telling him the rest. That while it couldn't diminish his culpability entirely, it was still the truth of the situation and lack of intent.

"Not exactly Jack, I didn't know Grace existed until last night when I went over to Emily's house. I was the one who cut her out of my life, I didn't give her a chance to tell me. I put all her letters in a box, I didn't want to read about how much I hurt Emily or how much she missed or loved us. I thought Emily was mad, because I left without saying goodbye. I asked for help and I didn't tell her the truth about Mr.Scratch. I left her alone to lead the team and fight him."

Aaron felt like he was scrambling, desperately trying to grasp at straws. He knew his rationalization for leaving and not contacting her again, sounded like a flimsy excuse and downright cowardly alibi. But at the time, he told himself he was ultimately still protecting his son. It had been the only way he could justify his actions towards Emily.

"All I allowed myself to care about was keeping you safe, even if that meant giving up Emily. I knew she was the only person I could trust to save us and stop Mr. Scratch. But I didn't give her a choice, I left her to deal with my problem on her own. And she didn't find out she was pregnant until we were already gone into hiding."

Aaron knew while he lacked the burden of proof in his favour, he could provide an abundance of evidence to demonstrate Emily had tried and always wanted them to be a family. And that they both needed to go easy on Emily and try to urge him not to intentionally do anything to hurt her further.

"Emily did nothing wrong Jack, and I promise I'm not trying to cover for her now. If you want when you're ready, you can read the letters she sent while we were gone. Both her and Jess told me she sent one a month, some with pictures, just trying to include us in everything. She always planned for us coming back, being a part of both their lives.

Jack could feel the tears burning his eyes, threatening to escape. He didn't know how to make sense of all the hate he had aimed towards a woman who had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. It hurt him to breathe, thinking about how scared and alone Emily must have felt. And how she had probably been worried sick about them the whole time, thinking she was the one who had done something wrong.

His father's voice broke through his thoughts."And Emily obviously wants you to know Grace, to be her big brother. That's all she ever wanted, for us to be a family. She thought we would come back after the danger was gone. It's my fault, even if I didn't know, I made the choice to stay away. And I've ruined everything, but please don't be mad at Emily."

Jack wanted to say 'No shit he wasn't angry with her anymore' He wanted to zone out, or tell his father to shut up, not sure how much more of his voice he could take. Jack had never felt such anger towards the man who had always been his inspiration and hero.

Aaron could tell his son was close to shutting him out. He needed to say a little bit more, before his son fully decided never to trust him again. "When we left, I couldn't stop picturing what happened before with your mom. I was so mad at myself, that my job put you in danger once more."

Aaron paused waiting for his son to look back at him for the next part. That way he knew how dire things were, and how genuine his remorse was.

"I knew what Mr.Scratch was capable of, he was more dangerous than George, and I couldn't forgive myself for leaving Emily to fix my problem. I was too weak and scared to go back after and have everyone angry at me, because I ran away from the fight. I couldn't face Emily, I was terrified she didn't love me anymore for putting her in danger."

Jack had never seen his father look so sad or contrite. It was obvious he was beating himself up, all on his own, his guilt eating away at him.

Aaron cleared his throat, trying to push down his emotions. "Emily was the only one smart enough, that I trusted to end the threat against us. I knew she would do anything to save us, even if that meant sacrificing herself in the end to do so. They lost an agent when they were stopping Mr.Scratch, a friend of Emily's."

Aaron shoulders dropped and he tore his gaze away from his son, before muttering the next few sentences.

"I promised myself and you, to treat you like an adult. You should know that monster also held Emily captive and tortured her. I didn't know this then, but it was only a few days after she gave birth to Grace. So I'm sure Emily was terrified because she didn't want our little girl to grow up without her mom."

It was easier for Aaron to let the anger take over, instead of the tears building. He wished he could sugar coat everything and keep it all from Jack. But now that he started, he couldn't stop letting the whole story pour out of him.

"I didn't even know that the bastard got his hands on her. But regardless of not knowing those details, I couldn't face Emily after, I hated myself for being responsible for putting her in the position I did. And I thought if I really loved Emily, I needed to let her go for good. That way I could never hurt her again, or let myself lose her like I lost your mom."

Aaron didn't know what else to say, nothing could ease the guilt he felt, or alter the outcomes of the mistakes he made.

"I know it can't change things now, but I promise you buddy, Emily never stopped loving you for a second. And she wants a chance to fix things between the two of you now, and for you to be a part of her's and Grace's lives. You can meet with her first and decide if you want, or we can play things by ear. But no one is going to force you into anything your not ready or comfortable with."

Jessica chose that moment to speak, knowing Jack wasn't sure if he could trust his father's words alone on the matter. "Your dad is telling the truth Jack, I promise. And when you're ready to see Emily or meet your little sister, we can both be there if you need. I already know you're going to absolutely love her, and you will be her best friend and favourite person in the whole world."

Jessica knew he should have been to worry further about the prospect of having anything in common to connect to his sister with."She's already good friends with Henry, Hank, and Michael, but you're her big brother. I know it's going to be exciting, frustrating, and weird at first. She might even annoy you sometimes, but I know you're going to love her and she already worships the ground you walk on."

Jessica hope the next bit would help her nephew and bring him some peace. To show him, he hadn't been forgotten, that Emily had always wanted him and missed him like crazy. And that they both mother and daughter would more than willingly accept him into their lives immediately.

"It's adorable Grace has pictures of you in her room, whenever she has a tea party she always puts her favourite one out, making sure she saves a seat for you. Emily has always told her about you, she even gave Grace the locket you gave her for her birthday. When she started school, Emily wanted Grace to have something special, that always connected her to her family."

"Gracie actually reminds me a lot of you, she is obsessed with monkeys, dinosaurs, and the zoo, just like you were at her age. But she also loves soccer, monkey bars, reading, Disney movies, tea parties, princesses, and baking."

"JJ is convinced she going to marry Michael, but Garcia is sure she is going to fall in love with Hank when she's older. Emily thinks they are both insane when they bicker about it, but she's pretty sure one of them is going to be right."

Jessica could see her nephew was still panicking, likely overwhelmed, unsure, and feeling guilty for something that wasn't his fault. She worried that her rambling on about Grace might not be helping him, only just further adding to his stress. But instead, he seemed to be captivated, hanging off of her every word. Jessica decided to go for broke, hoping Jack would undoubtedly be swayed on one front for now.

"Look buddy, I know it's going to be awkward for a bit seeing Emily again, but I promise you kid she loves you. Not a day goes by where she doesn't miss you. She takes Grace to pick out flowers every Sunday when she isn't working, and they go and visit your mom's grave. I go with Grace when she can't, and every year on Haley's birthday we share a picnic together there."

"Emily has told Grace hundreds of stories about you, she even let Gracie keep the stuffed monkey you won for Emily at your school's fair. Your sister only ever parts with it when her mom is sick and she tries to cheer her up. They have lots of pictures of both you and your dad, even a few of your mom around the house. Emily's done everything she can to include you and your father in Grace's life."

Jessica didn't know how he would react to the next bit. But, it would only help clarify that Emily wasn't unfaithful. And it would explain what he witnessed from that fateful video call, and help put both Hotchner boys at ease.

"And I promise you, Emily never cheated on your dad. Clyde did come down for a visit from Grace's baptism and also her birthday. Both times he stayed over in her guest room, ridiculously trying to convince Emily to return to England and take back her job at Interpol. But she refused to even consider it every time he asked, wanting to stay put for when you guys inevitably returned."

"You should know Clyde is also your sister's Godfather, I know because I was there with them the whole time, and I'm Gracie's Godmother. Emily didn't want to cause any hurt feelings by choosing between the team, so she chose me and Clyde. And I can promise nothing is going on between her and Clyde, I know this for sure because I'm actually engaged to him."

"We've been dating for almost 4 years now. It was hard doing the whole long distance relationship thing, but I will always be beyond thankfully Emily set us up. And now that you're back, I hope you are willing to get to know him. I want both you and your dad at my wedding when we finally get around to setting the date."

"I promise Jack Clyde's only ever been a friend to Emily, or like an annoying younger brother, even though he's older than her. He visits maybe once a month, sometimes more depending on his work. When you see the interactions of their friendship firsthand you'll understand. They fight like cats and dogs, but they've got each other's backs."

"And your little sister calls Clyde 'bunny', because of his last name. Now that she's a little older she added 'Uncle' to the moniker, and every time she says it, he pretends to be annoyed or embarrassed. It's hilarious how she has always had him completely wrapped around her finger, she can even get him to wear a tiara and paint his nails. And she loves how he is one of the few boys she can convince to come to her tea parties, besides Grandpa Dave over here ."

Jessica could see he was enraptured by what she was saying, but that he needed someone who wasn't his father to let him off the hook. He would internalize the guilt for not telling his father about that phone call for years. Jessica knew Emily was the only one who could really help him soothe the hatred and guilt towards himself, but he was scared to tell her.

Jessica was beyond certain Emily wouldn't judge Jack or blame him for a single second. If anything it would crush her heart to know a simple misunderstanding had cause him so much turmoil. She had no doubt Emily would wholeheartedly forgive Jack and help absolve his worries. But until he was ready to share it with her, Jess knew she needed to try and smooth things over and prove Emily loved him unconditionally.

"Not to hurt either of you, but Emily really thought you would both be back home soon. Most of the team thought it was unhealthy and delusional of her to believe that, but she held on hoping."

"Jack I get your upset, and you have every right to be hurt, angry, or however you feel about the situation. But none of us here will say anything about what you thought, from when you called her. But when you're ready, you should tell her yourself. Emily's the most forgiving person ever, I promise you, she's not even going to be a little bit angry with you. "

Dave piped in wanting to reinforce what was being said for Jack's sake, knowing his input could only help for this particular topic. "Your dad and Jess are absolutely right kiddo, Emily's always loved you, she never stopped. She even named your little sister after your mom, her full name is Grace Haley Rosslyn Hotchner. She knew it was a mouthful, but Emily wanted to name her after all the people who are most important to her."

"She toyed with using Haley as your little sister's first name, but she wanted Grace to be her own person, and she didn't want you to have the constant reminder every time you said her name."

Jessica smiled fondly, remembering how nervous Emily was back then, asking her if it was ok to name her daughter after Haley.

"Jack I know this is all alot to take in, it's all being thrown at you all at once. I talked to your dad earlier, while you were at breakfast. If you're mad at him and need some space, he promised me he would leave you be, or you're welcome to come stay with me for a few days."

"But, before you say yes, you should know I also live in Emily's guest house. We figured with me watching Grace and planning to eventually move in with Clyde, it made the most sense. And that way after you meet her, you can visit Grace whenever you want this week."

"I babysit her mostly after-school and whenever Emily needs to travel for work, so she's very comfortable and used to me. But if you're not ready or it's too much at any point, I know JJ and Will would love to invite you over for a sleepover with Henry. Plus you have Dave here who is on your side if you're more comfortable here for now."

Aaron decided he should reinforce what Jess was saying, knowing his son probably needed time to think, and have a little control and choice in if he needed some time and/or space from him.

"Your Aunt is right buddy, no one's going to force you, you're old enough to have some say in the decisions that involve you. I know Emily wants you there too, if your comfortable with that. She told me you're always welcome to stay with her when we come to visit. We all want to make this transition work."

"She really does want you to have a relationship with Grace, I know she also wants to repair her friendship and relationship with her. But she's not going to push you, you know how kind and understanding Emily is. She just wants what is best for you and your sister, and for you both to be happy and loved unconditionally."

Aaron knew he had to tell him this next part, so he didn't get his expectations up. Even if they couldn't find a way to back to each other, they would try to co-parent and be friends for the kids.

"Jack you should know though, before we get our hopes, that doesn't in any way mean though, that Emily and I are getting back together. She's pretty hurt because of my actions, and I'm not sure if she can find it in her heart to forgive me. I know she's heartbroken for every part of Grace's life we've missed being a part of. But she 100% blames me, not you."

"I still love Emily Jack, you know I never stopped. She wants me and her to work towards just being friends for now. All Emily is worried about is you and Grace and how this effects you both. She wants you to feel safe, loved, seen, and heard, and hopefully rebuild your bond. But I know she will be patient, she understands if you need time and space, if you're not ready to see her."

"If you're up for it though, Emily was hoping we could all go for a picnic in the park tomorrow, no pressure. And maybe depending on how that goes, dinner and a movie at her house. Then you can sleep over there, or in the guesthouse with Jess, or come back to Dave's with me."

It all sounded too good to be true to Jack. He missed Emily more than anything the last 5 years. Even when he was angry with her after, he knew he had still craved having her present in his life. And the little sister thing was an added bonus and absolutely the best news of his life. He had always wanted a younger sibling like Henry, someone to play and grow up with.

And as angry as he was with his dad at the moment, he wanted to stay at Dave's, he needed a little bit of time to think before he saw or met anyone else. He was worried about what to say to Emily, hoping he didn't spaz out and tell her about the Skype call because he was nervous.

"Dad, you promise Emily doesn't hate me, I've been so mad at her for years. I really thought she hurt you, and that's why we didn't come back. Please, don't tell her I thought she cheated on you, she will hate me forever."

Aaron leaned over to embrace his son, knowing he was on the verge of tears, because everything was hitting him all at once. "Hey buddy, it's ok, Emily could never hate you. Even if you ever disappoint her, she's always going to love you. She loves you just as much as she loves Grace, and nothing's ever going to change that."

"If you don't want to tell her what you thought that's fine. It was a misunderstanding, she wouldn't blame you, because it wasn't in any way your fault. And I swear on my favourite Beatles album Emily loves you and has missed you like crazy."

Jack chuckled at his dad's Beatles album analogy, knowing he was his lame attempt at a joke.

Aaron was glad his attempt to lighten the mood had its desires effect. He gave his son another big squeeze, pulling back to say the next bit to his face. "Jack, I know you always wanted to be a big brother, and I'm really sorry this all happened this way. You and Grace deserved to grow up together. I know you have a few more years before college and the rest of your lives, but I'm sorry you missed out on so much time already."

"And I know we just came down for your March Break, but I hope your ok if we discuss moving back soon. I want us to be able to spend as much time as we can with both Grace and Emily. You can help me pick a house or apartment and we can find a school nearby for you."

He could see Jack ready to speak and cut him off. "I'm not going to rush you on any of this, but I want you to have some say in these decisions. Your old enough to have some choice in this. I know it will suck packing everything up and moving."

Jack spoke next, rolling his eyes at his father's ridiculous rambling and wanted to get him to stop. "Woah dad stop, I get it. I know you don't want to be away from either of them, now we know, and I feel the same way. But we can talk about that later, maybe after I've had a chance to meet my sister first."

Aaron smiled seeing Jack was genuinely happy and meant what he said about wanting Emily Grace in his life. Nothing else mattered for now, as long as his son was on board.

"You're right, we don't have to rush anything right now. I'm sure we can find a way to make everything work out eventually for everyone, and that we are on the same page going forward."

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #random edits #hotchniss #empathy #soulmates #twinflame #true love #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #david rossi

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

(Y/N) Hotchner Masterlist

(Brother!Reader)

So I decided that there wasn’t enough Hotch brother reader stuff out there so I decided to make a series? I am probably going to write it out of order, but I’m going to put the parts in order that they happen (don’t worry, lol) - like timeline order, I could have just said time line order. Bolded means not yet uploaded but I plan on writing it. THIS IS NOT THE FULL LIST OF THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO INCLUDE EPISODE WISE. Also open to suggestions of stuff that could happen :)

Childhood fics:

First memories

Goodbye [title filler]

Roy [filler]

See you later brother

And then there were two

I can take it - Warnings: child abuse (straight after the cut), alcoholism, homophobia, f-slur, homophobic parent, internalised homophobia Word count: 1629

Bad News

The team

Even Worse News

Teenage antics

Even more teenage antics

Fics in the series timeline:

L.D.S.K

Natural Born Killer

Somebody’s watchin’

The Fisher King (Part One)

The Fisher King (Part Two)

Profiler Profiled

The Big Game

Revelations

Lucky

Penelope

Everything Hurts and I’m Dying - Warning: concussion, blood, worried aaron, reader get knocked out Word count: 571

Lo-Fi

Mayhem

Minimal Loss - (Y/N) Hotchner joins Prentiss and Reid to interview children from liberty ranch. Obviously things don't exactly go to plan. Warnings: hostage situation, abusive childhood mentioned, worried hotch, paedophilia referenced (as in the episode), hurt reader, explosions. Word Count: 7.7k

Brothers In Arms

Just the Tip of the Iceberg Part One - Warnings: toxic parents, abusive childhood, abusive dad, gun, argument, heated argument. Word count: 1222

Just the Tip of the Iceberg Part Two

Omnivore

To Hell...

...And Back

Flu Season - Warnings: cold/flu, illness Word count: 1591

Nameless, Faceless

Outfoxed

100 - (Y/N) Hotchner wasn’t expecting this to happen. Although, none of them really expected this to happen. (Y/N) now has to make sure that he is there for his brother and nephew as much as he can be. Warnings: Panic attack, death, vomit, all the stuff that happens in the episode happens here basically. Word Count: 4.7k

Risky Business

The Fight

Mystery Part

Our Darkest Hour

The Longest Night

Safe Haven

25 to Life

Sense Memory

This is it - Warnings: injury, let me know if I've missed anything Word count: 242

Today I do

Multiple cute tiny snippets - Warnings: Few mentions of rough cases Word count: 1008

Coda

Valhalla

Lauren

Hanley Waters

Supply and Demand

It Takes a Village

Proof

Hope

The Bittersweet Science

Handsome Squidward

The Company

Hit Run

Mr Scratch Part One

Mr Scratch Part Two - Warnings: toxic masculinity, child abuse, flashbacks, beaten, concussion, kicking punching, guns, bullet wound (fake), blood, hallucinations, noncon drugging, drugging, insecurities, strangulation. Word count: 3216

Mr Scratch Part Three

A Light at the End of the Tunnel Part One

A Light at the End of the Tunnel Part Two - Warnings: dead sibling (thought), lies, manipulation, dead body, kidnapped, abducted, injured, happy ending tho Word count: 574

A Light at the End of the Tunnel Part Three

Dr Sweets to the Rescue - Prompt: 'I wish they didn't save me'Warnings: I don't really know how to word the warning but reader wishes he wasn't saved, talks of funeral, grief, coping with lossWord count: 325

Another Mystery Part

Savannah Oh Na Na (I have a dumb sense of humour leave me be)

Snippets (not yet in order):

#hotch x brother reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x brother reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfictions #derek morgan #spencer reid #Penelope Garcia #Jennifer Jareau #david rossi #emily prentiss #jack hotchner #haley hotchner #jessica brooks #haley brooks #sean hotchner #x reader #x male reader #male reader