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[reidhotch]

the robbers and the thieves pt. 1

He couldn't let it go. He wouldn't stop, not until he knew he'd stopped them. Until he kept his promise.

AKA we all know Hotch would never be able to let go of the Winchester case. He'd have to solve it. This is a moment of that ft. hotchreid and Spencer loving Hotch through his angst.

Currently only 1 part, but I'm planning on adding more.

You can read part 1 on Ao3 here.

~000~

It happened again. They were right there, again. And they got away. Again.  

He knew he couldn’t spend any more time on the case. The Bureau had already made that clear- 

“We don’t have the resources, Aaron.” 

“Erin, he’s devolving. Something happened six months ago that left him in a tailspin. He’s more dangerous than he’s ever been, and there’s going to be a trail of bodies from one coast to the other unless we put our all into finding him.”

“It’s been four months since the last body was found, and it’s been over six weeks since the last confirmed sighting. There’s nothing, Aaron. The Winchesters are gone, again. I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. The Director wants your team focusing on the cases that have active leads.”   

She was right, and he knew it. But that didn’t mean it didn’t keep him awake at night. 

Megan Masters. That’s what kept him awake at night. 

She was 21 years old when she died. From Andover, Massachusetts, and attending a local college, where she majored in Linguistics. She disappeared in December of 2005, and her body was found in April of 2006. She’d been badly beaten and stabbed before she was pushed out the third story window of an abandoned warehouse. According to the medical examiner, she was conscious the entire time. She died cold, alone, scared and in pain. 

And the Winchester brothers killed her. It was his first case as Unit Chief. He couldn’t let it go. 

They’d get close- so close, every time. The profile was all over the place, it always had been, but that became a profile in itself. The Winchester’s- a family sect of serial killers, first with John and Dean, father and son. Then John dropped off the map. Completely off the grid, no trace. Then Sam Winchester, Dean’s younger brother, murdered his girlfriend, attempted to burn down his apartment, and fled from his college town life at Stanford University. That was just the beginning.

Two months later, Megan “Meg” Masters went missing. 6 years later, they were no closer to catching her murderers. 

6 years later, and there were over 25 more victims associated with the Winchesters. One of which was SA Victor Henrikson. Aaron was who sent him to interview the Winchesters in Colorado. When they made their escape, they left him bloodied in a cell, but alive, when they lit the station on fire. The medical examiner said the smoke killed him before the flames did. Aaron supposed that was a small grace in all the horror. 

The Winchesters were in the wind, again. Strauss was right, he knew it, but he didn’t have to like it. And he didn’t have to stop working the case on his own time. So that’s what he did, every night, for the last two weeks. 

It’s what he was doing now- standing in his office, suit jacket and tie long discarded. He’d unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, rolled up the sleeves, and leaned against his desk, staring at the wall in front of him. The wall he’d covered with six years of case details, geographical profiles, behavioral breakdowns, and personal history. 

He was running out of space. 

That was how Spencer found him. Staring at that wall, at the photo of Dean Winchester from the most recent sighting- somewhere near Omaha, walking all too casually to the ‘67 Impala that had become synonymous with the Winchesters- tossing and catching the stress ball Dave got him after Colorado when he shattered a set of whiskey glasses as grief and guilt ate him alive. 

“Aaron.” Spencer was, as always, patient and understanding with him. With this case. He was there when they got away the first time. He’s seen every blow Hotch took with this case. He’d taken most of them too. “Aaron,” He spoke a little louder this time, and Hotch realized he hadn’t answered, hadn’t even acknowledged the younger man standing in his doorway. He hummed in response. “It’s getting late.” Reid moved closer, quiet steps finally breaking his focus. 

“What time is it?” He asked, turning his gaze away from the wall. He tried not to notice the concern lining Spencer’s face when he glanced at him before checking the clock above his head. 10:45 PM. He was supposed to leave at 7 at the latest. He’d promised. “Spencer, I’m-”

“Don’t, Aaron. It’s okay.” Reid joined him at his desk, standing between his legs and stepping close. “The Winchester’s are in the wind, Aaron.”

“I know-” Spencer shushed him gently.

“They’ll show back up. They always do. And we’ll be ready. Garcia has all her systems flagging for their usual signs. We have eyes across the country looking for any indicators. They won’t get away this time.” He closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of Spencer’s hands moving up his chest, onto his neck, then resting gently on his face, cupping his cheeks softly. His thumb grazed his cheekbone, back and forth. Aaron sighed. 

“I promised them.” He muttered. “Her parents, Meg’s parents. I promised them I’d catch the men who did this to their daughter, and six years later, I still haven’t done that. I haven’t kept that promise.” He opened his eyes, finally looking directly at Spencer. “I’m no closer to catching Sam and Dean Winchester than I was back then.”

“We’ve had them in custody before, Aaron-”

“And Victor Henrikson died trying to bring them in-”

“And that was horrible. What happened in Colorado was horrible. But the Winchesters have changed since then, and we’ve learned more since then. You were right when you talked to Strauss, something changed. Something happened. They’re devolving, and that’s how we get them. That’s how we put them away, this time for good. But this?” Spencer gestured around his office. “This doesn’t help, Aaron. It doesn’t get us any closer to catching them. Obsessing over this case will kill you if you let it, and I-” He paused, swallowing heavily. “I’m worried about you. I’m worried about what this case will do to you. This is the third time this month-”

“I’m so sorry, Spencer-”

“Stop, that’s not.” He sighed. “I’m not upset with you. I’ve done it too, we all have-” Hotch knows he’s right, that they all have done this at one point or another- come home late, worked a case too hard, refused to let up until they were forced to- but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like shit about it every time he breaks a promise to Spencer. He’d promised he’d be home on time. That he’d be there at Jack’s bedtime, that he’d have dinner with Spencer and Jack and Jess. That they’d have a normal evening, and then it was 10:45, and Spence was knocking softly at his office door wearing jeans and one of Hotch’s old FBI crewneck sweaters. “Hey.” 

He looked up, sighing softly. “I know. You’re right. And I’m still sorry about tonight.”

“I know.” Spencer smiled, gently knocking their foreheads together. “And I still forgive you.” He closed the gap between them, chastely brushing his lips against Reid’s, and allowed himself to smile. “Have you eaten?” 

“No,” He admits. “I didn’t even realize the time until you walked in.”

“I ate with Jack and Jess,” Reid says, and he tries to ignore the flash of guilt that shoots up his spine. “But I could eat again. It was late when Jess and I finished talking, so she decided to stay over.” Hotch knows that mischievous glint in Spencer’s eye all too well, and he can’t help but smile in return. “What do you think about a quick dinner date at that new Korean BBQ place around the block? They’re open until 1 AM.” 

“I think that sounds amazing.”

“Good. Get your stuff, I’ll meet you at the elevators.” One last kiss, and Spencer is moving across the room again. 

“Spence-” Hotch stops him, smile lingering. 

“Yeah?” He answers, and he briefly thinks the soft golden lighting of his desk lamp will always make Spencer look utterly ethereal, like some kind of angel that stepped directly into his path when he most needed him. He'd never believed in things like angels, but here, looking at the man he loved- he understood why people believed.

“I love you.” The smile he received in response always took his breath away.

“I love you too.”