#I do think that’s something he and derek have in common even though derek tells scott to stop trying to protect everyone lmfao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

renjunniex · 1 year ago

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Raving

Prompt: Joining forces with Derek was difficult to say the least. Not only because he wanted to do things differently but it also meant you had to spend more time with Isaac.

a/n: heyyyy everybody! another chapter is here! super grateful for all the love you guys have been giving me seriously, thank you guys so much! ALSO YALL I DIDNT REALIZE I WAS SPELLING MR. HARRIS AS MR. HARRISON UNTIL JUST NOW. WHY DIDNT YALL TELL ME!?!? i went back and changed them so we should be good now lol

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"Oh, what the hell is this?"

You and Stiles were sitting at the station with food for Sheriff, who was very unhappy with what he had been given. "Veggie burger," sang Stiles as he rearranged the contents around the table. He handed you yours before setting his salad in front of him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger," complained Sheriff his mouth still full.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy," Stiles argued. You nodded along as you rustled your fork through your own salad to mix the contents around equally. Sheriff sighed but went back to unpacking his food, when he uncovered the basket of carrots and celery his face took on the look of disappointment once more, "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

You gave the older man a pointed look, "That's very dramatic, don't you think? We just do this because we care." You weren't lying, Melissa may have been the one that took you in permanently but the Sheriff had always been like a father to you just as Melissa had been like a mother.

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell us what you found."

Sheriff disagreed, "No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers." That didn't stop you two from looking behind the man and at the wall. You pointed to it as Stiles called attention to the board, "Is that it on the board behind you?" He turned to look at it, "Don't look at that." Stiles continued to not listen, his eyes glued onto the wall.

"Avert your eyes. Hey!"

"I see arrows pointing at pictures," Stiles said move about in his chair.

He finally gave up when he realized that you two were not going to listen. "Okay, okay, stop! Fine. I found something." Both you and Stiles brought your attentions to him, instantly satisfied with his words.

"Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three," you and Stiles asked.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident. Two's coincidence-."

"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished for his father.

"The mechanic, the husband, and the wife- all the same age. All twenty-four."

Your eyebrows scrunched together, "Then what about Mr. Lahey?" Stiles looked over at you and agreed, "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

Sheriff had stuck his finger out, stopping your questions, "Which made me think either 'A,' Lahey's murder wasn't connected or 'B,' the ages were a coincidence, until I found this," he rolled his chair backwards a little and turned. Grabbing the file and handing it you, you opened it so both of you could expect the contents.

"Which would be 'C.' Did you know that Isaac Lahey has an older brother named Camden?" Even though the question was in general, meant for both of you, Sheriff did make the most eye contact with you. You shook your head, going back to reading the words.

"'Died in combat,'" whispered Stiles.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"Twenty-four," you said.

Eating was apparently going to have to wait, since both men stood up and began to go over the board. "Man, I really just wanted to eat," you whined begrudgingly getting out of your chair. Your complainants were completely ignored as they started to plot.

"Now what if same age means same class- I mean did you think of that?" Sheriff brushed off his son's question with a slight wave, "Yeah, yeah." There was a brief moment of dead air until Sheriff confessed he hadn't thought of it.

"Well I would've. I mean- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." Even though the statement made sense to you, Stiles didn't accept that.

"TWO HOURS? Dad, people could be dying!"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, thank you."

You placed a hand on Stiles' shoulders to make your presence known, "He can only keep looking at this stuff for so long, Stiles. Sometimes you need to step back to refresh your eyes."

Both guys settled down at your words, before turning towards the photos, "Same class," murmured Stiles. You all shared a look, "Do you have any old yearbooks, Sheriff," you asked.

Like on cue, they scrambled to get any old yearbooks and school files they could get their hands on. To be honest, your glad they didn't need your help on that because truth be told, you really were hungry. You only got a moment to stuff your face with food because they came rushing back soon after slamming all contents on the desk.

Stiles had found the file he was looking for, "Okay this is it, class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including, Isaac's brother," stated Sheriff.

"Meaning they could've, theoretically, known each other," you said finishing your carrot before standing up once more.

"Two of them were married- so maybe they all just hung out."

Sheriff shook his head lightly, "Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've-." You saw the man's face fall into a look of recognition. Stiles had caught it too, "What?"

"Same teacher." Mr. Harris' picture was on the page, clear as day.

"All four. Now I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. Alright, get me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces."

"Which ones," you asked as Sheriff went to make a phone call. "Everyone in that chemistry class," he answered, "If the killer's not done killing..."

"One of them is next," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

Later that night, you had promised to meet Scott at the clinic to relay everything you just found out. He wanted you there though because Derek was planning to show up and he figured a three versus one when it came to opinions would work better in his favor.

"So, you weren't able to get tickets," you asked currently perched on the half wall in the lobby. The boy confirmed your question, "Nope, but we need to find some because Jackson seemed very hell bent on getting them."

You nodded slowly, "Meaning whoever is controlling him, desperately wants to be there." Scott agreed and then his head perked up, looking at the clinic door. You figured it was because he heard Derek so you felt no need to stand up from your position.

Scott walked over, unlocking the door letting Derek in, "What's he doing here," you heard him asked.

You looked up and felt your breath get caught in your throat, you weren't expecting Isaac to come. Guess it was only fair since Derek wasn't informed of your presence either. "I need him," the Alpha said bluntly.

"I don't trust him," Scott shot back. Mean while all you could do was stare and the Beta made eye contact with you for just a second.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," you would be lying if you were to say that his voice didn't make your heart flutter. Once he finished his sentence he walked passed both the other werewolves standing close to where you were sitting on the wall.

"You know what and Derek really doesn't care."

You raised your hands as you blurted out, "Oh my god, one more person talks in third person and (Y/N) might just punch you all in your throats." You heard Isaac snort out a quiet laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes gleamed like stars when they met yours.

Derek had interrupted your little moment, "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?" You scoffed at the Alpha, "What great patience you have there, grumpy." You hopped off the wall and crossed the little group to stand next to Scott, just in time for Deaton to come out of the back room.

"That depends, your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"

"Save him," you and Scott synced.

"Kill him," Derek had said at the same time.

You and Scott both whipped around looking at the dark haired werewolf in disbelief, "Save him," Scott argued once more before looking at you. Your eyes both met and stared at each other for a moment, like a form of silent communication. You nodded at him once more before both of you turned back to Deaton and synced again, "Save him."

Deaton had a small smile on his face and nodded, gesturing for you all to follow him. Derek had silently walked passed definitely grumpy of being out numbered. Scott followed a second later, leaving you and Isaac alone for just a moment.

You turned to him quickly whispering, "Derek made you come?" He nodded in response, "And now I'm glad he did because I get to see my favorite girl." He stood next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, keeping you from walking towards the back room door. You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes, "You're never gonna stop with the nicknames, are you?"

You moved passed him, his arm falling back to his side and you spoke once more, your voice still lowered, "Fine but we still need to talk everything through. After this is all over." He nodded with a smile on his face following behind you and into the room with the others. He took his place in between the other two werewolves and you stood next to Deaton and helped him lay everything out. The sound of Derek's voice made you look up.

"Watch what you touch," he said with Isaac's arm in his hand. Deaton had picked up a jar reading it then showing you the label and pointing to the ingredient in the book laid out in front of you. He had become some what like a teacher to you, every chance you got you were here, learning, reading, practicing and he would guide you. Seems like he thought now was still a good time to show you some things.

Isaac had leaned down resting his arms on the table and now at eye level with you. He smirked when he saw your attention on him before asking his question to Deaton, "So, what are you, some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

Deaton's reply made you shake your head in amusement. You saw Isaac process the answer with his lips taking an "oh" shape silently, before he looked at you again. It felt like every chance he got, his eyes were stuck on you.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin. Except for when (Y/N) is able to learn healing abilities, but even then, that could take time we don't have and it would really only be effective after the fact." Your head shot up, your body still leaned over from reading the pages. You glanced at everyone in the room before meeting Deaton's eyes.

"Wait, I can do that?" Deaton chuckled at your astonishment and nodded, "Well that's news to me," you said looking at your best friend.

"We're open to suggestions," Derek continued to conversation. "What about an effective offense," asked Isaac.

"Unlikely," you scoffed as Derek began speaking again, "We already tried, I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

You mumbled lightly, "I'm really glad I haven't had to fight this thing." The boys looked at you, a certain Alpha showing a very obvious annoyance, "What? I'm sorry, okay. Stiles isn't here to voice my thoughts like he always seems to, I can't help it."

Deaton looked at all of you, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"

Derek answered his question, "Well one- it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott interjected as you shook your head, your posture now straight and your arms crossed. You continued for the Omega, "He's the captain of the swim team." Deaton nodded along at both inputs, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people."

He turned grabbing something from a drawer, he show you an amulet, "A puppet... and a puppeteer." He set it on the table and continued, "One killed the husband but the other had to take care of the wife, do we know why?"

Scott piped up gaining everyone's attention, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murder. I think he couldn't let the same happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac's eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the table. When his eyes blinked and his attention was no longer stuck, he continued, "The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

He looked at Scott and when he did, you felt your body jolt. It was the weirdest sensation and you didn't understand why it happened. It wasn't a normal reaction so your only guess could've been it was something supernatural. You checked to see if anyone noticed and when you confirmed no one did, you made a mental note to ask Deaton about it later.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer," Scott questioned.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." His eyes were back in your direction only his focus was on the wall behind you; you were okay with that though, you didn't want him to see the frown you had.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Deaton's hand was held out as he hypothesized, "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him." You nodded along adding to his words, "Like they're not only bonded as in partners but mentally." Deaton pointed to you grabbing a small jar.

"What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master." He circled the sand like substance around the amulet on the table, "Meaning what," Isaac asked.

"Meaning we can catch them," Scott started.

"Both of them," you finished.

The next morning consisted of both you and Scott telling Stiles everything on the way to school. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott hopped out of Roscoe as he finished his question, helping you out as well. Stiles met you both on the sidewalk, "It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret." You adjusted your bag onto your shoulders, "Real helpful, Stiles," you joked.

"Hey!"

All three of you turned to find Matt, "You guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles tried to convince him. Matt gave him a confused look, "I-I had a concussion." You turned your head and laid it into Scott's shoulder, hiding your small laugh threatening to come out.

"Okay well no one got seriously hurt."

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Okay, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles had proven his point even more by leaning over and placing his hand just inches from the concrete. Your cover of your amusement was taken from you when Scott moved forward to ask if Matt was alright.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." He gave Scott a friendly fist to the shoulder before walking away.

"I don't like him," You and Stiles both said, once he was far enough.

"Hey, are you sure about this," he asked Scott. "Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job," Scott said.

You chimed in, "So, what do you think he's going to do this time?"

Stiles sighed, "Be there to make sure it happens," He shook his head before both boys turned, taking their places beside you as you walked in the school.

"Can anybody tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Coach was right, practice was already over and there was no sign of Jackson. Everyone shook their heads and Stiles leaned over so you and Scott could hear him better, "I thought I told you to keep an eye on him."

"STILINSKI!" You three straighten and looked at Coach, "Jackson!" Stiles shrugged, "Sorry, Coach I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?"

"The last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

"Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay," Coach was leaned over in Danny's eyesight. The boy nodded, "Sure, Coach." Coach started to back up into his office, "That goes for all of you. I should be coaching college." He started to close his door but just before he did, he looked at you, "(Y/N), I'm going to need to see you later for game plans."

You nodded, "You got it." He finally closed his door, which allowed the boys to go back to talking to Danny. "Sorry, but I only got two myself," Danny said.

"What- do you even have a date, yet?" Your head snapped to Stiles, your arm shooting out to smack him in the stomach, "Really?"

Danny's tone changed, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence and just-." Before Stiles could finished both him and Scott were pulled away and you felt someone right behind you, "How do you two losers even survive?" It was Isaac, you looked behind you to see him looking between the two boys, his hands still gripping their shirts.

You scoffed and pointed to yourself, "That would be thanks to me, actually." Isaac looked at you and smirked, acknowledging your answer. Scott huffed, "What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling." He gestured to the whole locker room, where all the boys stood around, probably waiting for you to leave so they could begin changing.

Isaac's eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, you felts hands lightly place themselves on your waist guiding you closer to Scott. The tall werewolf patted Stiles on the chest, moving passed him, "Wait here, boys."

All of you gave each other looks of confusion, Scott asking, "What is he-?" But he never got to finish, thanks to the crash caused by Isaac. You guys flinched at the loudness, "Ow," you commented.

"Yup, that's excessive," Stiles added on, the sounds only getting louder as Isaac continued his actions. "That'll bruise."

"Ow," Scott repeated your first comment.

"Wow, okay." Isaac walked back over, tickets in hand, he handed you each one before turning around his hand in his pocket, "Enjoy the show."

You guys were in shock until you broke it with your words, "That was... so hot." Both boys looked at you, wide-eyed, when you saw them you just shrugged, "What? He's on our side now, I can say that."

Stiles pointed at you, "I thought you were mad at him?" Scott nodded in agreement.

You rocked your head from side to side, "I was and still kind of am, but that doesn't mean I can't find that," you circled your hand motioning to the boy walking away, "Extremely attractive." Scott and Stiles both scoffed, the spastic both pushing you slightly, "Get out of here, you dummy, let us change."

You laughed and walked out the room, only making it a few steps out the door before you heard your name once more. You turned to see the boy you were just talking about leaning against the wall, "I heard you." You smiled as cluelessly as you could and walked closer until you were inches from his figure, "Heard what, exactly?"

His arm came around your waist again, this time turning you so your back was pressed up against the wall and his body was trapping you. "You find me attractive, huh?" His eyes were on you, glancing at your lips before reaching your eyes once more, "Always did," you answered. You leaned a little closer missing his lips and bringing yours close to his ear and whispered, "See, isn't it so much more fun when you're on our side?"

You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was laying itself on your waist, removing it gently and sliding out of his grip, "I'll see you tonight, Isaac."

"Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage."

Deaton set down the syringe and bottle, "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him enough to buy you some time." He turned picking up a jar with that same sand from the other night, "This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you." He placed it down and Stiles picked it up his eyebrow raised, "Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we maybe find a less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He gestured to the walls, "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble."

We turned back to Stiles to see him still confused, "Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then neither Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott reassured.

"Not all there is," Deaton said. You sighed and slumped your posture, "There's always something."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it." He pointed to Stiles, "You have to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

Scott looked at Stiles worried and then you to which you rolled your eyes. Deaton gave a silent chuckle, "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

Stiles mumbled, "Force of will." You grabbed his hand, "You got this, no sweat."

"If this is going to work Stiles, you have to believe it."

The night had finally arrived, your nerves were definitely getting to you. It also didn't help that the car ride over seemed really awkward. Stiles was oddly quiet and you could tell that Scott noticed as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

You and Scott shrugged lightly and you spoke, "You didn't say anything the whole way here." Stiles grabbed the bag out of the Jeep and looked at you both, "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

Scott looked at Stiles, "We can't, remember Deaton said you have to do this alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck."

You smiled, "There's our Stiles."

"No, not here, not now."

You turned to see Scott running off, panicked you looked at Stiles who was just as bewildered as you. "What," Stiles said.

"Scott!" You called as Stiles continued on, "What am I supposed to- plan officially sucks!" He looked at you and you just shrugged. "I'm going to go look for Isaac and Erica, you got this Stiles." He waved his hands at you in frustration, "Yeah, whatever, go make out with your boyfriend." You gasped, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet."

You pointed behind him, "Go play with your sand." He huffed a laugh and you turned to make your way into the building. The music could already be heard from inside but still it was quite a shock on how loud it actually was. The lights were blinding, you squinted to try and find the two Betas but to no avail they were no where to be seen in the sea of people.

Deciding that staying on the outskirts was your best course of action, you began to make your way to the side where a line of pillars were. You leaned on one of them as you scanned the area again, looking for any signs of any werewolves.

"You planning on dancing tonight?"

You jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice right in your ear. You turned and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights considering the boy only started laughing when he saw your face. You punched his shoulder and he faked a wince, "Don't do that! Where's Erica?"

He nudged his head in the direction of the crowd behind you, "In there, thought I would come look for you while she looked for Jackson."

"Me?"

"You and Scott."

You scoffed, "You said me." He smiled making the motion to press his forehead against yours, "Okay, it was mainly for you." You laughed and moved your head away, leaning back on the pillar, "My, you're quite the flirt these days." He shrugged leaning against the pillar with you, one hand in his pocket. He looked down and crossed your pinky with his.

"You're not as mad at me as you have been, it's a little easier now."

You chuckled and nodded, "True, true."

You saw Scott come around the corner, you let go of Isaac and that caused him to look where you were looking. You dashed towards the Omega and hugged him quickly, "Where did you go?"

"Allison's here."

You looked at him, "That means her dad is here." He nodded and started making his way to Isaac, who was still leaning against the pillar watching you guys. Scott handed him the syringe, "Why me," Isaac asked. They were standing side by side while you stood just slightly off from them.

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan. Okay, look, you gotta do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. The neck is probably gonna be the easiest, so you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on this trigger right here. Be careful."

Scott had given him a whole lecture on the plan, Isaac chuckled, "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him." Scott shook his head, "No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt." Isaac's head shot to the side in surprise. There was this moment of silence between them and that's when you felt it... another jolt. This time it was stronger.

What was going on? Why has it happened twice now?

Your thoughts were broken when hands grabbed your shoulders. You blinked and refocused on Scott, "And you be careful too, okay? Stay out of the way." You scoffed, "Okay, Mom."

"(Y/N), I'm serious."

You laughed and pushed him away, "Yes, I know, I'll be careful. Now go growl at middle aged men." He smiled at you before running off. You and Isaac were left alone once again. He seemed to still be in shock at the conversation he just had.

"I told you so."

"What?"

"I told you, we care about you guys." He turned to see your smirk wearing face. He snickered, "You always have to be right, don't you." You gave a bright smile and a quick nod, "Yep," you grabbed his hand, "Seriously, be careful."

He used the grip you already had on his hand to bring you closer, his forehead back to resting on yours, "I will but it would be nice to have some incentive." You let your eyes lock with his, "Okay, you get out of this alive and I'll forgive you completely." His face practically lit up and he tried to hide it but you saw the bright expression just before he went back to his usual resting smirk.

"Now that's what I like to hear," his head shifted upwards and you felt his lips on your forehead. He pressed them there ever so gently before letting them leave your skin. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he made the move of leaving first but was stopped by you grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You do anything too sexual with Erica and I'll kill you, Lahey, understand?"

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."

You went to find Stiles after you had set up the area you guys were planning to keep Jackson. You guys had caught each other at the front entrance and you were now making your way towards the room, listening to Stiles excitement on how he had done his task.

You two had made it to the door and when you opened it you had startled the two Beta wolves. "Uh, no, no, no, just us. It's just us. Don't freak," Stiles rambled. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Isaac was alright and it looked like Isaac had done the same when he saw you.

"Is he okay," your best friend asked.

Isaac walked over to Jackson, raising his claw up, "Well... let's find out." When he went to swipe at Jackson his hand was caught as the lizard boy started to crush his hand. Isaac let out a groan of pain and he pulled back as hard as he could. He backed up to guys and you instantly grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?" Even when he was still grunting in pain, he nodded.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay," Stiles pointed to everyone and he received unanimous nods. Isaac groaned one more time, "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get, so let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Almost as if on cue, Jackson's eyes opened. You erratically began tapping Stiles and Isaac, "Guys, guys. Something's happening." Everyone watched Jackson as he started to speak, "I'm here." His voiced echoed and you could hear not just Jackson but someone else. It had to be the person controlling him.

"I'm right here with you."

You and Stiles looked at each other and slowly stepped towards the boy in the chair. "(Y/N), come back here." You ignored Isaac's words and crouched next to Stiles.

"Jackson, is that you," you asked quietly.

"Us. We're all here."

Stiles was taken aback by the answer, glancing over his shoulder at the werewolves behind you. "Are you the one killing people," Stiles questioned.

"We're the ones killing murderers."

His voice was full of venom and it was nearly as paralyzing as his actual toxin. It made you shiver out of fear. "So all the people you've killed so far-."

"Deserved it." He cut off Stiles violently.

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied."

You looked at Stiles again and took over the questioning, "Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Well, who'd they murder?"

"Me." His reply to your question truly stunned you, "They murdered me." Jackson's eyes rolled into his slitted ones and his head turned straight, "They murdered me." You and Stiles got up and started to back your way to the other two. Isaac had a small grip on your hip, keeping you close. You started to see Jackson's hands move, breaking free from its previous stillness.

"Alright," Stiles panicked, "Ketamine, the man needs more ketamine."

Isaac picked up the bottle, "We don't have anymore." Your best friend whipped around, "You used the whole bottle?" You saw Erica tap Stiles and you all looked to see Jackson standing, he hissed and his head began to shake violently.

"Okay, out, everybody out," you pushed Erica and Stiles forward. They needed no help from you though, all four of you rushed out of the room, bumping into each other until you closed the door. Everyone pressed their back on it and Stiles gave out instruction, "Okay, (Y/N), make a barrier hurry." It was too late, Jackson had busted through the wall and had made a break for it.

You guys all ran for the front door as everyone began leaving, you and Stiles made it outside and he crossed the line meeting Derek who was jogging over.

"Hey so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-," Stiles' attention was on you and the two Betas who had also just walked out. You three were right on the line, they looked at you for reassurance and you raised your hand coming in contact with an invisible wall, it glowed a blueish color as you put more pressure on it.

"Oh, my god! It's working! Oh this is- yes! I did something!"

You heard a roar, it was so guttural. You felt the heat in your eyes, this time it was intense, if you weren't used to it by now it might have actually bugged you.

Scott

"Scott?" Derek had voiced your thought, he looked at you, he saw your eyes glow and he heard it too. The roar of a dying Scott.

"What," Stiles turned to Derek.

"Break it."

"What? No way!"

"Scott's dying!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, my god, Stiles! I just know! Break it!" Stiles broke the line and Derek took off. You could feel your feet moving before you could even think as you started to try and run too. You were stopped, however, by Isaac grabbing you, both arms wrapped around you.

"NO! LET GO! ISAAC! LET GO! SCOTT HE- HE'S HURT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!" It was almost manic how much you thrashed to try and get out of the boy's hold. He held on tighter, "(Y/N), no, okay you can't, you can't fight yet. Derek will save him, okay, Derek will save him."

Your eyes were pouring tears at this point, "No, no, Scott he needs help, he needs me," you whimpered as you fell to the ground, Isaac coming with you but his arms never leaving their position around you.

His lips pressed against your hair and he just continued to comfort you, "I know, baby, I know. But he's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna save him. You have to stay here, okay, baby?"

You nodded still crying now holding onto Isaac like your life depended on it, muttering the same thing over and over again, "Scott he's- he's dying. He's dying- he's-."

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."

a/n: I finally gave you guys more isaac and y/n, aren't you guys happy with me? lol anyways hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo

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gege-wondering-around · 8 months ago

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Eli and Stiles' jeep

I've been thinking recently and I have a few theories about Eli in general and why, at the end of the movie, the Sheriff gives him Stiles' jeep.

Number one:

Maybe, since Stiles isn't in the movies and we all know how many people in the Teen Wolf fandom likes him, the director though that it would've been a good idea to put in the movie another character to 'replace' Stiles.

Cause if you look close enough to the two of them, Eli and Stiles have so many similarities or even scenes in common.

Eli, as we all well know, have the same sarcasm style as Stiles (and let me say, no he didn't take it from Peter even tho he is sarcastic too. Peter is way more passive aggressive with his tongue)

Eli has a very similiar fashion style to Stiles (maybe they even wear some clothes that are the same - but I haven't investigated that so this is all an hypothesis)

Do you remember the famous flashback Stiles had while he explained how he helped Derek evade the FBI's scanners and radars? Well, after he explained it 'wrong' Derek corrected him, reminding him how he had to be carried out by Derek cause he shot his foot. And that same scheme of action -Derek carrying Stiles around while he whines in pain - comes back in the movie. Derek carrying Eli the same way after he sprained his ankle and whining to his father to put him down.

They also act very similiar if not the same. The expressiveness, the exaggerated hands gestures, the 'let me say this crap in the wrong moment' kinda attitude and also - MAYBE - they both go after a love intereste that doesn't reciprocate their love. (When Eli is in the jeep at the red light he sees a girl in the car next to him and prepare to act all cool - but fails...)

How they both cannot play lacrosse for the life of them or if you wanna say it another way, how they kinda suck at it. (I'm not gonna elaborate further, they have some problems with that game and I'll let that be) and how they both somehow managed to score a point during a game when initially, they weren't even supposed to be on the field that day.

They both have an innate awkwardness with multiple people around, especially if they don't know these people or if they feel like these people doesn't like or approve of them somehow (this could be a whole another post itself, maybe it'll be...)

How they are both raised by single fathers (or at least, that how it seems for Eli, since we know nothing about the mother)

And lastly for this round, how they both are 'insanely' attached to that jeep (Eli cause he wanna 'play around' with his father knowing that the man have 'complicated feelings' about the jeep. Stiles cause it was his mother's and how he keeps reparing it as best as he can throughout the whole show)

So, maybe he was put in the movie to fill Stiles' absence?

Number two:

Whether or not Eli was put in the show to replace Stiles' type of character and have a consistency with characteristics and personality portrait by both, why did they make him Derek's son?

Because they could've made him Peter's son as well, or Chris' cousin even - if they pushed it that far - and also, couldn't he simply be a teenager who ends up involved with the nogitsune, for all another set of reasons?

Making him Derek's son, even if it could simply be the easy way out to add Eli, has to have some meaning somehow, or at least i personally hope and believe so.

Cause maybe Eli is there to tell us something or confirm something else:

Maybe Eli, who's so similar to Stiles, has been made as Derek's son to show us how - somehow and maybe - Stiles was in contact with him while he grow up and that could explain their similarities.

Maybe Eli is 'living proof' of Stiles being Derek's anchor (as it was confirmed in a script of an episode that later was changed due to difficulties with scheduling the actors) and how he - Stiles - could've had a significant impact in Eli's life, either through Derek's stories of him or Stiles being actively present.

Maybe Eli - detaching the argument from Stiles - could mean the second possibility that Derek has to be a 'good role model', which he wasn't for Scott, Isacc, Boys and Erica (despite the fact he did his best in the only way he knew, he surely looked as 'not someone you would wanna learn from' )

Maybe Eli, destipe all odds, could just be... Eli!

But still, it remains strange to me how our good little Eli is so much like Stiles and also Derek's son, cause we - shippers and non-shippers - all know that these two characters clearly had something going on...

Number three:

Leaving out the why 'Derek's son' and why 'Stiles' copy', as we all know at the end of the movie the Sheriff gives Eli the jeep, but why?

We all know how madly in love Stiles is with the jeep and how it belonged to his dear mother before being his and the Sheriff was there seeing both of them running around the city with the old thing.

It leaves me perplexed how Noah - the Sheriff - decided to give the beloved jeep to Eli after his father died, but at the same time it makes very much sense. Let me explain.

There are a few reasons of why it leaves me perplexed and with many questions, which range is pretty vast.

Why giving the jeep 'away' after it belonged to the Stilinski family for +30 years?

Does Stiles knows about this?

Is Stiles never going to drive it again or he decided to leave the jeep behind? (To which I say, why would he ever do that after he didn't give up on it when it broke down in the middle of the desert, in mexico)

But with this said, if you look at it from another prospective it makes quite sense.

Why Noah 'gave away' - or to better say, gave to someone else - the only thing he had left of his wife and son (since Stiles is away for the majority of the time due to his work probably)?

Did Noah gave it to Derek to help him cope with Stiles being away? (If so, how come Noah knows something or, when he spoke to Eli during Derek's funeral, did he lie when he said "Derek towed it in", without saying that he gave it to Derek himself or did he simply omitted that part ?)

Noah gave the jeep to Stiles after his mother died, he gave his son something to hold onto while the grieved the loss of his mother, while also giving him something to remember her. The jeep is basically the symbol - if you wanna be poetic about this, which I'll be - of his mother's love for him.

It's the only piece left of her that actually serves a purpose and not only something which function is to remember someone who died (like it could be a photo or a ring).

Stiles takes care of the jeep like it's a living thing cause it's the only thing in the world he has of his mother, a mother who in the last moments of her life, couldn't even remember or recognize her own son. So Stiles lives her memories through the jeep and within it, that's why he never left it for anything, not a single reason was strong enough to his ears to make him leave it behind. Cause in the end it would mean leave his mother also behind, which he doesn't want to do.

And then, Stiles is gone to live the FBI agent life and the jeep ends up in Derek's hands who puts it all back together - maybe with something more strong that duct tape - and Noah is fully aware of this and how, the big old scary wolf, decided to take upon himself to repair the old thing that Stiles loved and treasured so much during his whole life.

Then the jeep is back to function and Eli has some fun with it, despite - or maybe in spite of - knowing about:

Your father had complicated feelings about that jeep

(Said by Noah)

And that:

He hated that jeep

(Said by Eli)

Because in the end, despite these sentences are said at the end of the movie, Eli knew about it anyway. Somehow he did.

Eli knew and kept getting the jeep, maybe without his father even knowing about it at times.

(And then Noah would call Derek about it, just like we saw in the movie.)

And when Eli is the one grieving the loss of his father, the only parent he probably ever knew in his whole life, Noah does it again. He gives the jeep to someone who's grieving the loss of a beloved and cared member of their family.

Stiles' mother was the first owner of the jeep, the one who chose it among who knows how many other cars, and it helped Stiles with his grief when she died.

Derek towed the jeep in and managed to fix it despite all odds and the tons of duct tape Stiles had put on it and when he died, the jeep passed to Eli in order to help him with his own grief.

Both times Noah was the one who gave the jeep to the one in pain, was the one who understood grief better than most and knew how to help and was the one who knew about it all.

So yeah, somehow to me, it does make sense.

The jeep is the "grief-helper" and Noah knows about it all.

Number four:

The meaning of the jeep itself is also very fascinating, especially if you look at it poetically and also how Noah is, somehow, always the deliverer.

Like I said before, maybe it's really about the jeep itself and what it represents to the people who drives it (Stiles and Eli). Because for both it's a reminder of someone who they loved tremendously and that are now gone (Stiles' mother and Derek).

Also there's Noah.

Noah, man of justice and single father, that gives the jeep to children/teenagers who lost their parents, cause somehow Noah knows the value of the jeep, or better what people makes it when they know its story.

(Somehow I managed to merge a bit of this theory with the third one, in fact they are pretty connected)

And this is it.

Thank you for have read so far! (And sorry if there are any errors, english is not my first language)

- let me know if you have questions and maybe also what you think, if you want my inbox is open for everything and always remember this is just what I think also, all the sentences in blue could be a post on their own, so let me know if you'd like that!-

#sterek #derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi #derek hale #eli hale #stiles jeep #teen wolf theories #sheriff stilinski #noah stilinski

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buckybarnesss · 1 year ago

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I was literally thinking about all the fics where Stiles is like "and then Derek pushed me around 🥺" like... Derek did the steering wheel thing because Stiles made him STRIP FOR A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD BOY.

I started to read an article that opened up by criticizing the "physically abusive sterek ship" and backed out immediately, like you people need to remember that the show exists and that is not based in reality.

Pack mom Stiles.... gah. Stiles would never help Isaac with his homework. Derek would!! But Stiles? Hell no.

Stiles is literally a fucking creep. He walks around telling everyone that he loves Lydia. He has no boundaries. I love him that way. He's a snarky little asshole who would definitely just show up in Derek's apartment one day and Derek would be like "how did you get in here?" And then Stiles reveals that he pretended to be a doordash driver with a delivery and then picked the lock on Derek's front door.

fun fact my url before this one was creeperderek. i am fond of that url. he of loitering at tree lines and creepily disappearing into shadows in the boy's locker room for no fucking reason.

stiles does have a lack of boundaries and really intense anxiety about the people he cares about.

he listens to the police scanner regularly and monitors his father's diet due to his intense, almost uncontrollable anxiety about his father. he's terrified his dad will die and has an intense fear it will because of him.

all of that of course stems from his mother's death when he was so, so young and how claudia in her cognitive decline blamed stiles and accused him of trying to kill her.

this anxiety also extends to scott and melissa to various degrees due to their significance to the stability of his life for so long and why he's irrationally scared to tell his father the truth despite knowing if the sheriff understood what was really happening it would help more than hinder.

than there's other things like how he has a copy to the key to the mccall house that melissa isn't aware of and it's made pretty clear that stiles took the imitative. scott didn't give it to him.

scott doesn't seem all that bothered by this but scott is one of the few people who knows and mostly understand stiles. they live in each other's pockets. scott would be oddly touched but also be like bro what in the fuck? because really, stiles what the fuck?

people find that fucking weird and creepy.

it truly wouldn't surprise me at all if stiles had a copy of the loft key and derek knew he did and said nothing about it because these two are weird little freaks that probably have frequently creeped on each other.

we do get indications they speak outside of what we're shown. two little maladjusted bastards sharing one brain cell to creep on each other.

if stiles showed up in derek's loft derek probably wouldn't even be surprised. in fact he'd tell stiles he took longer than expected, peter did it better and he sucked.

it's so funny that fandom developed the idea that derek sneaks into stiles's bedroom all the time via the window and we literally never see this. it never canonically happens. though it's not said how derek got inside in wolf's bane so maybe a window but frankly i find it more plausible derek just, you know, broke in the house via a door.

putting a read more on this because i had a lot to say lol

stiles and lydia. ooh boy.

sentiment within fandom swayed a lot on these two and i've seen the common argument that sterek fans don't like stydia as a paring because it's not gay, or something to which i say lol no. i, personally, don't ship them romantically because for like 2 seasons stiles didn't see her as person and she mostly ignored his entire existence.

he fixated on lydia in the 3rd grade which would've been around the time claudia declined and than passed away. he held onto that crush tightly, put lydia on a pedestal making her more into an ideal than a person.

there's moments where we see them genuinely connect but there's so many scenes between the two of them until like season 3 that are cringe and uncomfortable. my main issue is that lydia never really says much about it either.

it's like until she becomes a real girl to stiles her position doesn't matter even when we see her be uncomfortable or weirded out around stiles.

we actually do see stiles and derek develop boundaries with each other. stiles uses derek to literally queerbait danny in wolf's bane. both derek and danny seem to realize this as it occurs and derek pointedly, purposefully retaliates with violence which isn't great but it makes it clear that derek is not okay with what stiles did and a line had been crossed. s2 has derek also indicate to stiles it's not okay to touch without permission.

remember the finger tippy taps stiles's gives derek when boyd dies? that's stiles having learned derek's physical boundaries over 3 seasons so that he is able to offer him comfort in a awful, terrible moment.

in conclusion derek and stiles aren't abusive and it's odd people latched onto that idea. they're abrasive assholes to each other and lack boundaries in the beginning because their maladjusted people for various reasons while also just being two little freaks about each other.

#my blog #thoughts on teen wolf #sterek #otp: you need me to survive

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livvyofthelake · 29 days ago

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the thing about the dwts judges is that i think they lowkey have too much job security. i can’t even say they should fire carrie ann because genuinely who would replace her. they need to make mark ballas a permanent judge for at least a season like they did with julianne hough years back and just have four judges because genuinely they’re losing the plot. carrie ann and bruno are like. old timers at this point like they don’t have a concept of what it’s actually like to be dancing on this show. that’s the perspective derek brings that’s made him my favorite judge this season like he actually knows what the fuck he’s talking about and doesn’t score based on vibes. they should get like. cheryl burke to replace carrie ann perhaps. like being back former pros to be judges so the judges can be people who actually judge omfg…. like cheryl logs on to tiktok every week and hates on carrie ann and it’s awesome actually and she’s right. they need to refresh that judging panel!!!! and like. i think it’s good to have different kinds of judges like they can’t all harp on the technical aspect they can’t all be the nice one they can’t all be the harsh one but carrie ann and bruno are soooo tired at this point. it’s tired! and no one is hating on bruno nearly as much as carrie ann so i get just saying they should replace her but genuinely i think bruno could do with being replaced as well… hot take. but like he’s been here the whole time. get new judges with modern perspectives on dancing that can actually offer real feedback… if you need another old queen to replace bruno i’m sure that’s not hard to find in the dance community… get kenny ortega in there. sure why not. shut up i know he’s not a ballroom choreographer. whatever. like. refresh the panel!!!! and pick people that can offer the same different roles of judges you’ve always had but new! american idol this thing!!! you’re gonna fire tom bergeron but not carrie ann inaba get SERIOUS. whatever. what’s crazy though is that as a kid my favorite judge was carrie ann… because like. ok first of all my misandry ran deep ok i liked her because she was The Woman. and i thought she was the nice one. now eventually i became old enough to realize carrie ann was not my ally… and as a teen i really liked bruno more because he was the fun one you know. but now as an adult looking back i’m realizing how much i loved len as a judge… i miss len… he was the harsh one but his harshness came from a place of really caring about dance and really wanting ballroom dance as an art form to be respected and executed well, like you could tell he really just cared about what he judged and was harsh a lot of the time because he believed people could do better and he wanted them to rise to their potential you know? and when he was complimentary and gave high scores it always meant more because it was len… like a ten from him was everything. it meant something! a ten from carrie ann or bruno could be common as weeds sometimes in the later weeks of the competition. like. wow i loved len goodman…. and i really like now how derek is trying to be his successor, last night when carrie ann was giving out tens like candy derek gave ONE 10 all night and it literally meant more because of that… (it was for chandler btw. and he also in his comments to her was sooo nice i almost cried. he went after carrie ann gave her that bullshit vague commentary about how “it just wasn’t Perfect” and chandler was saying like “what more can i do?” and she was trying to make it light and funny but you could tell she was genuinely upset about how carrie ann hates her for no reason. and then derek came in and was like. chandler. no notes… and he clapped for her… like ugh derekkkkk this is why derek will always be famous…) anyway. recount the votes! my girl was robbed! refresh this damn judging panel! on what planet can you justify giving chandler a 9 because “it just wasn’t Perfect” but DWIGHT can get a ten for fumbling a lift and standing there while daniella dances around him. what are we fucking doing

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stephy-gold · 6 months ago

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Emily today Chapter 2 ?

In Em apartment, she was busy tidy everything because mom always nagged her about having a mess, she said that it’s Dad fault because when he was single he lived as a bachelor and his apartment was a complete mess, he didn’t even had a bed, to be fair Em almost never is at her apartment, if she isn’t at the hospital she’s at Derek’s or with friends out.

The topic of Derek and Em relationship is still a grey area for her parents because she haven’t tell them exactly about him, she wants to wait until she finish her residency in a couple of months, Mom will be beyond mad because Derek is Em teacher in the hospital (her superior) but well the heart want what it wants. So here she is Cleaning all the apartment, hiding the bits of Derek things here and there, she actually didn’t realize how many things he has at her apartment until today.

Another thing Em got from her Dad is the lack of talent in the kitchen so she decided to order take out for dinner, it’s her birthday dinner with mom, dad and Will so she decided to have something small at her apartment. The food just arrive and she is finishing cleaning the living room, all of Derek stuff were in her closet in her room, where she plan to keep her mother away of. She’s ready, loose flare jeans, pair of sneakers and a nice blouse, her hair in a clip and little make up.

A knock on the door that she knows is her brother, Will, thank god he arrived first because she needs help with heating the dinner.

Will: hey!!! you are gonna open or not !!!

Em: wait a sec okay!

The door open.

Em: jeez you are insufferable

Will: you invite me idiot

Em: yeah I think I’m regretting it, common help me with something

Will: hey, I’m a guest

Em: well you’re also my little brother and it’s my birthday so you have to suck it up and do as I say, Bday Rule!!!

Will: aren’t you 30??? isnt that childish

Em: yes and no, stop whining and check the oven while I change will ya?

Will: Fineeee !!!!

Em goes into her room to get her make up retouched and change her jeans because they got dirty with something.

Will: hey how’s Derek? Is he not coming?

Em get out of her room and throw him a look that resembles mom look with raised eyebrow, if looks could kill she and their mom already had kill lots of people including him and dad.

Em: you IDIOT!! You know they don’t Know about him being with me, don’t even think about mentioned it

Will: hey sorry relax I’m not gonna say anything I’m not an asshole

Em: thank you bro.

Knock on the door, their parents outside of her apartment, Will opened the door to mom and dad. Mom was looking pretty as always, younger than she actually is, and Dad is fine too, he is lifting weights and running despite mom telling him to stop because of his bad knees and light sciatica. They are still working, Mom at a nearby clinic in town near their rural home and Dad consulting for the FBI in high profiles cases as a profiler.

I have lots of things to do, like study for my finals or get into my thesis, plan my trip, do homework but no I prefer writing a shitty little thing because my mind can't concentrate on anything else but here it is, hope you like it though it's not finished and I don't know when I will end it.

this is a continuation of my fic Emily Today :) you can find it in AO3 my user is in my profile here :)

@today-in-fic

#dana scully #the x files #txf #fox mulder #msr #x files #xf fanfic #mulder x scully #ao3 fanfic #Emily today #william mulder scully #Emily Mulder Scully #x files au

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pastanest · 2 years ago

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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

The King Of Wishful Thinking

Spencer Reid had been in love before, he knew the symptoms as well as he did any other sickness. He could tell that it had started the first day he saw you, much to his dismay. Hotch introduced you to the team as his PA, but added that the title was vague because you were going to help out any member of the team who needed it. All of the boring parts of the job, filing and other office-based tasks that the rest of the team dreaded. While the profilers went away on cases, you kept all of their things in order back at Quantico, and you’d stay late to make sure you were there to give them a full report when they got back. You were efficient from the get go, a lifesaver amongst the team when you offered to take their piles of paperwork and sort them. But, of course, the one person who didnt need help with any paperwork was the one person more desperate than any other to speak to you.

At first, you offered Spencer help as much as you offered everyone else, but after he stumbled through the politest rejections you’d ever experienced, and the team continually joking that he definitely didnt need help, you stopped offering to avoid irritating him. He had hoped that the lack of communication would extinguish the fire you’d lit within him, but oh, how wrong he was.

“Good morning Doctor Reid!” You called gleefully as you entered the building, your eyes immediately landing on Spencer, who sat at his desk idly writing out impossible maths equations.

He didnt say anything in reply, just beamed at you, and you approached him to sit on his lap, the two of you laughing in between passionate kisses-

“Hey, kid, you alright?” Derek nudges Spencer, pulling him out of his daydream.

Spencer’s gaze had been fixed on the glass doors awaiting your arrival, and Derek was aware like the rest of the team that this distractedness was not common with the young genius.

“Y-Yes, Im fine!” Spencer splutters, clearing his throat and straightening his tie, eyes frantically darting around the room as though to prove he hadnt been zoned out staring at the door for several minutes.

“What’s been up with you lately, man-“ Derek begins to ask quietly, but he’s interrupted.

“Good morning Doctor Reid!” You call gleefully as you push through the glass doors, leaning on them with your back because your arms are stacked with papers.

“Good morning (Y/N)!” He squeaks back, waving awkwardly, causing your smile to widen into a beaming grin.

In his daydreams, Spencer manages to be an awful lot smoother, but your genuine kindness is not something his mind conjures up. He had hoped you not talking to him would kill his crush on you, but of course, you being as lovely as you are, you made sure to greet him every single morning so that he never felt left out. The rest of the team had the easy route when it came to speaking to you, Spencer had to wait for specific opportunities, such as the one Derek Morgan has happened to witness.

Derek laughs and sits back on Spencer’s desk. “Ah, I see.”

“What do you see? I dont see anything. You dont see anything!” Spencer is rising from his desk in what can only be described as sheer panic, literally walking into the rail of the stairs as he tries to walk around Derek to get to them, causing Derek to laugh even harder.

“Kid’s got it bad!” He teases.

“I dont ‘got’ anything!” Spencer snaps, but the nervous higher pitch to his voice gives him away.

The team head to the round table to discuss today’s case. Just as Penelope begins describing the victims, Spencer happens to glance at the doorway. And there you are, across the walkway, headphones hiding your ears as you dance around the printer.

“Given the extent of paperwork waiting for us in Florida, I’ve asked (Y/N) to join us on this case.”

Spencer’s eyes widen as he slowly turns back to Hotch, unable to believe the words that got through to him despite being completely distracted by you. He mentally scolds himself, of course the mention of your name is the only thing that can pull him away from staring at you.

“(Y/N)?” Hotch calls, but you continue dancing around the printer, completely oblivious.

The team chuckles as they watch you, smiling fondly as you pick up the files you printed and take your headphones off. Hotch calls your name again, and this time you jump out of your skin. Turning to face the round table, you already have your eyes closed and your mouth pressed to a thin line, realising you’d forgotten you were supposed to be with the team. You jog over to the round table, your headphones bouncing around your neck.

“Sorry about that! Ditziness is next to godliness!”

The team laughs, Spencer’s smile lingering longer than anyone else’s.

“Honestly, Im not sure why Im coming considering you have the world’s fastest reader right here!” You exclaim, gesturing to Spencer, who immediately sits up straighter.

“The world’s fastest reader is actually Howard Stephen Berg, who can read 25,000 words per minute, but Maria Teresa Calderon, from the Philipines, claims to beat that with 80,000 words per minute-“ Spencer pauses, then smiles bashfully while mentally facepalming. “-and you were just complimenting me, werent you? Thank you.”

Spencer lowers his head, blushing furiously as Derek and Rossi slap his back, everyone at the round table sharing a laugh.

On the jet, Hotch informs everyone that you’re just collecting your things from your bag, but you’ll be right with them. Spencer takes a window seat at the back of the jet, and Emily quickly plops down beside him.

“You should ask her out.” She says simply.

“What!?!” Spencer squeaks, trying to express his outrage as quietly as possible.

“You should ask her out!” Emily repeats.

“No way!” Spencer shakes his head furiously.

“Why?” Emily questions, as though he’s refusing the easiest thing in the world.

“She doesnt- she couldnt- the majority of outcomes would be horrific!” Spencer struggles, stumbling over his words.

“Would the outcomes really be horrific, or are you just too scared to admit you might actually have a shot with someone?” Emily asks in a hushed voice.

Before Spencer can reply, Emily’s eyes dart to the jet doors and she jumps out of the seat next to Spencer, leaving it empty just in time for you to arrive. He looks out of the jet window, pretending to be deep in thought.

“Is this seat taken?” Spencer hears you ask, and he discretely pinches his thigh to make sure he isnt dreaming.

He turns his head to look at you. “N-No!”

You smile and sit down beside him, pulling a blanket over yourself that Spencer hadnt even noticed you were carrying. You catch Spencer staring at it and shrug.

“This is a 13 hour flight, best thing to do is get a nap in before everyone else so that when I am awake everyone else is sleeping, then I can get some work done. Or, I can have conversations without worrying about a team of profilers listening in!” You raise an eyebrow, causing Spencer to chuckle, he understands your point on a spiritual level. He thinks you’re going to go to sleep, but you continue talking to him. “If you like, we can both sleep and then chat once we wake up. Since we’re next to each other and all.” You suggest, and his profiling instincts tell him you’re trying to be very casual about the suggestion, and the fact you’re avoiding eye contact makes him think you’re nervous about something. But what?

Spencer nods, also trying very hard to come across as casual about it. He hopes that because you arent a profiler you wont recognise that he’s trying so hard.

You smile at him and proceed to get snuggled up under your blanket. He waits until he hears your breathing slow, telling him you’re asleep, then he glances at you, to see you’re still smiling. His heart all but leaps out of his chest. Not wanting to miss out on an opportunity to have a private conversation with you that he doesnt have to initiate, Spencer settles in his own seat and closes his eyes, persuading himself to sleep.

The moment he drifts, you’re back again. What else would he dream about?

He was in his apartment, re-reading War And Peace, when he heard a knock at his door. He frowned, rose to his feet and walked to the door. When he opened it, he saw you standing there with two tubs of jello and two spoons, you held one of each out to him with a beaming smile on your face. Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his apartment, lifting you and the jello into the air and spinning you around, before placing you back down on the ground to rest his forehead against yours and hold you close. He didnt kiss you, he didnt need to in that moment, because even dream-him knew not every moment required a kiss, and he didnt just want to kiss you. Sometimes, all he wanted was to hold you.

“Spencer?” You asked quietly.

“Hmm?” He hummed in reply.

“Spencer?!”

He jumps in his plane seat, eyes snapping open as he realises you are actually saying his name and gently shaking him awake. You laugh quietly.

“What were you dreaming about?” You ask curiously.

Spencer swallows nervously. “Jello.”

You nod in understanding. “Jello is a very good thing to have deep dreams about, congratulations.”

“Thank you?” Spencer says, somewhat confused and still half-asleep.

You cross your legs and turn to face him, sitting sideways on the jet seat with your blanket wrapped around you. “So! Let’s play a question game!”

Spencer frowns curiously. “Why?”

You shrug, gesturing to the rest of the team. “Nobody’s eavesdropping, I wanna get to know you, why else?”

Spencer’s heart skips a beat. “Why do you want to get to know me?”

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re smiling, so he knows you arent making fun of him. “Because you’re interesting! So, questions, are you ready?”

Spencer straightens his back, shuffling around in his seat as he feels the tension rise. He’s considerably taller than you, so he cant quite sit sideways on the seat, but he does his best to face you.

“Okay, you go first.” He says, allowing you to set the tone of the questions so that he can figure out what to ask you afterwards, but also so he can try and deduce what you want to know, specifically. There has to be a reason that you want to play this game.

“Are you comfortable with the way the team make fun of you sometimes?”

Well, of all the questions he theorised you would ask, that was not one of them. He’s stumped. Spencer shuffles and repositions in his seat as he frowns, formulating an answer.

“Most of the time I know they arent being cruel, they’re my friends, but sometimes it does get to me, I guess. Everyone has bad days.” Spencer explains, and you nod, but he cant hold back from continuing. “I dont want to waste my question asking this, but could you tell me why you asked that?”

You smile at him. “We dont talk much, but I pay attention to you, which I suppose is a consequence of that. Since I dont know you very well, and dont get many chances to talk to you in order to change that, I try and figure you out by paying attention. I notice them making fun of you, and sometimes I want to jump in and defend you, but I feel it isnt my place, Im not quite in tune with the team dynamic just yet.”

Spencer feels his heart swell at your words. Despite barely knowing him, you care about him that much? And you want to figure him out?

You nod at him. “Your turn to ask a question!”

Spencer clears his throat. “Why do you make the effort to talk to me when it isnt in your job description?” He immediately sees how taken aback you are, and he’s quick to rephrase. “It’s not that I dont enjoy you talking to me - I very much do - I just dont know why you bother, because you have to talk to everyone else as part of your job. You dont need to talk to me, but you choose to, and I dont know why.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear and avoid eye contact, instead looking over to double check that the rest of the team are definitely asleep, as you try to find your words.

“Well, like I said, you’re interesting. I want to get to know you, and the fact you dont need my help means that I cant use that as an excuse to talk to you, like I can for everyone else. In order to get to know you, specifically, I have to make the extra effort.”

Spencer’s stomach drops. Is he just like everyone else to you? Do you simply want to get to know him in the same way you know the rest of the team?

“Why do you stare at me?”

Suddenly, the entire world stops. Spencer swears he can feel his blood freezing in his veins. He doesnt know how it never crossed his mind that during his zoned out moments, you could quite easily see him. Oh god.

“I...find you interesting, too.” He begins, intending to stop talking right then and there, but his mouth has other ideas. “What I mean is, you make me interested in you- but not in an objectifying way, I just mean that- you are so effortlessly mesmerising and I dont- I cant- and you dont feel the same way, which is fine, Im just somebody you work with that you barely know- you dont want to know me in the same way and that’s fine- I just-“

You lean forward and cover his mouth with your hand, silencing his ramble.

“Spencer, take a breath.” You tell him, but the smile on your face makes it very difficult for him to do that. Taking your hand away from his mouth, you settle back in your seat. “I said I wanted to get to know you like I do the rest of the team because I was trying to retain some professionalism, while being wrapped up in a blanket and sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce.”

Spencer cant help but laugh at that, and in doing so you put him completely at ease, despite his heart beating a mile a minute.

“But, since you just metaphorically threw the remaining professionalism out of the jet window, we’ll replace it with honesty. Im interested in you, Spencer, and in the same way you are interested in me.” You explain to him, your words deliberately slower so that they sink in.

And just like that, you have Doctor Spencer Reid speechless. He keeps his gaze locked with yours as he very obviously pinches his own arm.

“Dont hurt yourself! What was that for!?!” You grab his hand and take it away from his shoulder, holding it in yours so that he doesnt try and pinch himself again. The care you have for him could make him cry.

“Just making sure this isnt another daydream. It’s been difficult to tell the difference recently.” Spencer tells you, his words barely above a whisper. Before he can stop himself or overthink it, he asks the only question playing on his mind. “Can...Can I kiss you?”

Your cheeks flush pink as you nod slowly. The two of you lean in at a snail pace, it feels like someone is holding the brakes on gravity, slowing down a pull that cannot be resisted, it’s inevitable. His lips meet yours, directly above the arm of the jet seats between you. Every fibre of his existence is set alight. Spencer has a momentary worry that the fireworks have the strength to blow up the plane, but he’s reminded how irrational that is when the overwhelming bliss takes ahold of him again. One of your hands lets go of his, to feel up his chest and around the back of his neck, to card through his hair. Spencer’s hands hold onto yours, treasuring every aspect of this, savouring the ecstasy of this event being in the real world rather than just in his head. He pulls away first, breathless and grinning.

“Would this be a bad time to correct an earlier statement?” Spencer asks randomly.

“What statement?” Your brain is still rebooting after that kiss, you cant quite remember anything that was said before.

“My dream earlier.“ He explains.

“What?” You frown, even more confused after finding out what he’s referring to.

“It wasnt just about jello.” Spencer admits, his grin cheeky.

You laugh and shake your head at him, using the hand that’s still in his hair to pull his lips back to yours.

Maybe wishful thinking can get you somewhere after all.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon

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carriagelamp · 2 months ago

Text

Had the sort of month where I could feel my books crying out for me while I was at work. They wanted to draw me home into their loving embrace…

My main take away from this month is that if you're going to be anything, by god be sincere

Bury Your Gays // Straight

My hold on Chuck Tingle’s latest horror novel came in just in time for spoopy season, which felt very appropriate, so I read both it and Straight, his horror novella that I hadn’t known about until I was looking up the release day for Bury Your Gays.

Both were quite enjoyable reads, and struck similar chords. He does a really good job of taking a potentially campy concept that’s been done before, and giving a very unique spin — not just in the inclusion of queer themes which can often come across as surface level and token if poorly done, but from the societal commentary that’s woven through both works. The queerness isn't window-dressing, but inherent to the story, horror, and criticism that’s present in both. Another thing they both have in common is that they are also, fundamentally, about hope and community and overcoming horror, which feels very relevant to the topic matter.

Straight is the shorter of the two, and on the surface is a zombie story. Due to vague cosmic horror, a strange thrall comes over straight people once a year that causes them to become rabidly violent towards all queer people. Two years out from the first instance, this story looks at how a group of queer friends deal with the trauma, how society has responded to it (and the fact that this came out 2021 feels very obvious as it looks at a fictional global pandemic), and how the friends themselves brace themselves for this years event. Isolating themselves out in the desert, they batten down and hope to wait for it to pass by relaxing and playing board games… obviously this doesn’t happen as intended.

Bury Your Gays was very different again, and between the two feels like the more ambitious in terms of imagination and story telling. The main character of this story is a partially closeted screenwriter for a major film studio who has had some success, both cult- and critical-success. However he starts to realise that there may be something sinister pulling the strings when he comes face to face with a fan dressed up as one of the horror monsters he had created for the screen. It must be a fan, right?

Both of these are excellent stories, and I appreciate how they shamelessly demand the reader suspend disbelief. They don’t bother over-explaining things, and allow horror to be unapologetically horror, slightly fantastical and campy and definitely scary. I have to admit, neither quite lives up to Camp Damascus, but I enjoyed both quite a bit nonetheless.

Defekt

The sequel (technically midquel?) to Finna, though it honestly stands alone fairly well. Finna, which involved hopping wormholes through fictional Ikeas, was alright, but I definitely think if you want something like that you’d be better for reading Horrorstör by Grady Hendrix. Defekt, on the other hand, I thought was an excellent novella and I’m glad I decided to give it a try! If you’re on the fence about this series, I’d skip right over Finna and just go straight to Defekt.

This novel is about Derek, who is LitenVärld’s most loyal employee. Everything about his life is centred around his work… even after his shifts he goes no farther than the storage crate in the LitenVärld parking lot where he lives. In this way, and many others though, he starts to notice that there are some… inconsistencies between how he views the world and how his coworkers view the world. He has never quite connected to them before, but do they have entirely different manuals? And why is his superior getting so angry about him taking a sick day when his colleagues seem to see no problem with it? Things come a head though when he’s scheduled for a special sort of inventory shift and he finds himself face to face with not just one but a whole team of people who seem to be his direct clones…

Doctor Who: The Day She Saved The Doctor

Like many Doctor Who novels this one is… fine. If you’re in the mood for more Doctor Who and want something easy it’s pleasant, but nothing world rocking. It’s composed of four short stories that bill themselves as feminist tales that focus on Sarah Jane, Rose, Clara, and Bill and how they “save” the Doctor. Honestly my main complaint is that they don’t actually do a great job sticking to this theme. The stories range from rather hamfisted to completely insincere — none of them have a truly impressive “save” but part of that might just be that they’re such short stories that they really have no space to come up with a complex rescue mission. None of them were actually bad, but also none of them stuck with me enough to describe them now…

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries

I was disappointed by this one. I feel like I’ve seen rave reviews for this novel, and it’s been on my reading list for ages, but now that I’ve finally sat down to read it I found it… profoundly underwhelming. It seems to be going for a sort of “cozy academia” vibe and I’m sure that works for some people but mostly I just found it… very boring. Maybe I was hoping for something more like a grown up Spiderwick. Emily Wilde was an okay character, but without much depth, and the male character they introduced was uninteresting to me. I ended up giving up on it part way through when I finally gave up on the plot picking up in any significant way. If it does get better, it wasn’t worth the slog to get there imho sorry to all the people out there that love it.

Hakumei & Mikochi v1

I honestly just adore stories about Very Tiny People in a Very Big World. This completely scratched this itch I have for Borrower-esque stories! It’s an episodic manga about the lives of Hakumei and Mikochi, who live together in a tree house, and little events in their life such as shopping in town, camping, and befriending a necromancer! Normal day to day things! I wouldn’t mind reading a second, it was very chill and charming.

Jaws

I honestly don’t know what I expected here. I had never seen Jaws before, but me and my friends have spent so much time swimming this summer to keep cool that we decided it was the time to finally watch it. I see why the movie is such a classic, it was an excellent film! Very well made thriller! And a great end-to-the-summer movie. Then I made the mistake of deciding to read the original novel. I got about eight pages in before they said faggot for the first time. At that point I decided maybe I should read a review or two. Honestly I might have pushed past the homophobia if the novel itself sounded good, but apparently the types of horror used in the novel vs the film are very different. The novel has none of the subtly that the movie uses and is primarily sexual and gross-out horror that was fairly typical of the 70s pulp horror scene. So. I did not continue reading Jaws. I feel like I need a nega-pride flag for this one.

Poison For Breakfast

Really neat novella by Lemony Snicket, and honestly I have a hard time classifying this one. It’s technically fiction, but in a lot of ways feels like it’s not, it’s autobiographical about someone who doesn’t actually exist. It starts with the author receiving a note telling him that he ate poison for breakfast. More than anything, it’s an entire book of philosophy told through the lens and language of Lemony Snicket. If you have any fond memories of The Series of Unfortunate Events then honestly you should read this. Even if you don’t, it’s worth reading. The language is so evocative and it genuinely made me stop and think and squirm with a general discomfort that good philosophising around life and death can bring about.

Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning, The Reptile Room, The Wide Window

I stumbled across Poison for Breakfast specifically because I decided to reread the Series of Unfortunate Events. I’ve been fairly anxious lately (more than usual, which is saying something when it’s me) and I needed something that would hold my interest but otherwise be an easy audiobook to listen to at night or during my morning commute. Since I’ve never actually read the whole series as a kid (they weren’t all out yet when I started and I never got around to finishing it) I decided now was the time. I’m especially excited to read it as an adult because I’m picking up a lot of nuance I simply didn’t notice as a kid, especially related to the Snicket / Beatrice subplot. Lemony Snicket really does now how to write a compelling mystery.

If you’ve never read The Series of Unfortuante Events, it’s got to be one of the best youth novel series out there (I say, unbiased). The narration is unlike anything else I’ve read in any genre, as is the strange world that the story is set in. The series starts with the three Baudelaire children learning that their parents died in a horrible fire that consumed their home, and that they will have to go stay with a distant relative who they have mysteriously never heard of before: Count Olaf. It quickly becomes apparently that the cruel Count Olaf is only after the Baudelaire fortune that Violet will eventually inherent, and though they expose him by the end of the first book it’s only the beginning of the tragic events that will dog at their heels from here on out…

The Bad Beginning, The Reptile Room and The Wide Window are the ones in the series I’ve reread the most, and were very comforting to return to! (also I feel compelled to mention that Tim Curry does the audiobook for The Reptile Room and he uses his fucking Nigel Thornberry voice for Uncle Monty and you haven't lived until you've heard Nigel Thornberry get horrifically murdered in a completely unrelated novel... wild experience.)

Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent

Easily the best book I read this month. This book was originally meant to be a series of interviews between Judi Dench and Brendan O’Hea about her time as a Shakespearean actor. The interviews took place over four years and were meant for archival purposes before O’Hea realised how much these might be enjoyed by a wider audience — and boy was he correct about that.

The interviews are profoundly insightful about the various roles Dench played, her opinions on the characters and plays themselves very compelling, while also being interspersed with wit, banter, and reflections on everything from her fellow actors, to costuming choices, to green room antics. Dench has a remarkable memory and it means the interviews are able to go into great detail about the specific productions of each play that Dench participated in. I listened to the audiobook and if you have even a passing interest in Shakespeare I really can’t recommend it enough.

The Scum Villain Self-Saving System v2

I continue down the SVSSS rabbit hole and honestly I have to applaud this series for proving to be more than mindless fluff, which is kind what I had been expecting of it (sorry, I was very biassed against this series). Don’t get me wrong, it is a genuinely hilarious series and an absolute parody of the genre, but it’s more than that which I think is important. Despite being a parody, it’s very sincere in its characters and relationships and story; while the main character may bitch and moan about certain “story tropes” and the “shitty author” who wrote the webnovel he’s found himself in, he’s as much swept up in this world as anyone else is, and the story forces you to acknowledge even the tropier aspects and look at how they would fit into a world where such things dictated every day life.

In this volume Luo Binghe (the “protagonist” who is supposedly destined to kill Shen Qingqiu) returns from his “presumed death” in the Abyss, much earlier than in the original story. Shen Qingqiu is frantic when he finds out, desperate to ensure his back up plan is in place and that he might yet avoid the inevitable death his character is meant to suffer at Luo Binghe’s hands. Of course, nothing is that easy, and Shen Qingqiu has irrevocably changed the plot (and possibly the entire genre) of this story, though he himself may not realise it yet…

Yuri Is My Job v1

So, my earlier comment about sincerity? How both SVSSS and Chuck Tingle’s stories intentionally use a lot of specific tropes and parody their genres? Despite this, both examples clearly love the genres they’re lampshading and ultimately commit to the story they’re telling. They never break away from the story to wink at the audience and say “see how dumb this is?” (cough Marvel) — they are completely embroiled in the worlds they create, they are entirely sincere in the story they’re telling.

And then you have this. Yuri Is My Job is a yuri manga about a protagonist who hides her true self behind a cutesy, beauteous mask. She’s determined to be the prettiest, sweetest, most desirable person in any room — she always wants to be the first pick! And things continue well for her, until she finds herself getting roped in to covering a shift at an usual themed café: one that’s based around a fictional private academy where the “students” work at the cafe and play out little dramas for the customers.

This could have been fun, especially as the protagonists realises that everyone is wearing a mask, and how their performed personalities can differ wildly from their true personalities, but there’s just no sincerity here. It makes me think of Ouran High School Host Club but without any love behind it. OHSHC can get away with a lot, and I’ll suspend a lot of disbelief while reading it, because it’s having so much fun with what it does. This manga seems to suck away any joy by constantly poking fun at its own premise.

So I dunno… YMMV, maybe this is something someone else would enjoy a lot, but it honestly just kind of annoyed me, especially when I sat down to figure out what exactly I didn’t like about it.

If you’re going to be anything, be sincere at the very least. Show me that you love what you’re about.

#book review #book reviews #queer lit #lgbt books #svsss #shakespeare #judi dench #doctor who #lemony snicket #series of unfortunate events #the man who pays the rent #chuck tingle #bury your gays #straight #hakumei & mikochi #defekt #nino cipri #poison for breakfast #honestly i'm about halfway through the third book of svsss but i have to keep stopping to go and frantically make are for it instead :P #i am so delighted by how good it is i didn't want to be done with mxtx's books yet and was really worried i wouldn't be into this series #but i has its HOOKS in me #what really shook me was realising that we're at a point were kids just... don't know about the series of unfortunate events #it was SUCH a big thing while it was coming up #i still remember the madness around The End #i think the only reason i escaped that point in time without spoilers was because no one knew wtf was going on #anyway i was talking to a couple of kids and realised neither had even HEARD of this series #there used to a block of ratty copies in every elementary library #how the times change smh #chatter

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princeescaluswords · 2 years ago

Note

I wan to know your opinion about something that me and my friend talked a lot regarding the show's relationships.

Scott or Stiles; who obsessed more for "the girl"?

I think Stiles has a tad more obsession sprinkled into his character (especially if it's about Lydia and the 10-year plan thingymabob) but my friend said that Scott's obsession toward Allison is borderline assholic and made him a jerk to his friends (their words, not mine)

The first step in resolving a conflict should be defining the terms. According to Webster, obsession is "the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, or desire." On a television show that can't give us insight into a character's thoughts 24/7, the writers and actors have to demonstrate obsessive behavior in other ways. I would argue the most common sign of obsessive behavior should be very simple to identify: undesirable actions a character performs that indicate their thoughts are dominated.

If your friend wants to claim that Scott is obsessed with Allison, then it stands to reason that they have to give examples of actions -- not jokes or word play, but actual decisions he made with negative consequences -- which demonstrate this obsession. Accusations without proof are not useful in comparisons.

I'll start with my evidence that he is not obsessive in his behavior. While Scott's emotions toward Allison were intense, they were also reciprocated. In other words, Allison liked him back. They entered a mutually rewarding relationship, one that recognized boundaries and limitations. In addition, Allison became Scott's anchor, a psychological necessity for werewolves, distinctly required to maintain control as explained by Derek in Party Guessed (2x09).

Isaac: Then how do you control it? Derek: Find an anchor. Something meaningful to you. Bind yourself to it. Keep the human side in control.

Even with Allison as his necessary anchor, Scott did not allow her to control all his decisions. Scott ditched Allison four times in the early seasons -- Night School (1x07), Co-Captain (1x10), Abomination (2x04), and Restraint (2x07) -- to act appropriately even though he didn't want to do so. He also made decisions that would endanger that relationship -- Magic Bullet (1x04), Wolf's Bane (1x09), Ice Pick (2x03), Raving (2x08), Frayed (3x05), and Insatiable (3x11) -- because it was the right thing to do. Finally, Scott demonstrated his ability to let her go, such as in Master Plan (2x12), Tattoo (3x01), Alpha Pact (3x11), and Illuminated (3x16). I am confident in my analysis because of the sheer number of examples.

In addition, I would argue that the popular counter-examples are extraordinarily weak. In The Tell (1x05), skipping school to help Allison celebrate her birthday in a way that spared her from embarrassment and unfair public shaming is not an example of obsession; it's an act of kindness. Stiles finding an important clue while Scott's phone was off was a classic plot complication as was the Sheriff getting mildly injured by a car, not a demonstration of negligence. Scott only lurks on Allison's roof in Formality (1x11) due to Peter's direct threat. In Abomination (2x04), Scott didn't hang up on Stiles in order to concentrate on Allison, he hung up to concentrate on safely finding the Bestiary that Derek needed. Scott's deliberately creepy behavior in Motel California (3x06) is defeated by Allison saying "no." Even the heart-of-darkness influenced confrontation with Isaac in Anchors (3x13) -- while still a mistake by Scott -- was initiated by Isaac and doesn't indicate obsession, because there was no follow up by Scott.

I feel that the idea of Scott being obsessive comes not from negative behavior but from his resistance to white men, predominantly Derek Hale. He repeatedly tried to warn Scott away from Allison, and Scott resisted. But here's the thing: Derek was wrong. Allison wasn't Kate. Allison didn't have to become like her or Gerard, and when she had her dark arc in Season 2, that was a result of Derek's actions both toward Scott and Lydia. So, with confidence, I can argue that Scott was not obsessive.

Now, Stiles's attraction to Lydia was, to quote Scott in A Novel Approach (5x05), "a little obsessive, but not all bad." Stiles had a ten-year plan (then fifteen year) to win the heart of a girl who ignored him. It wasn't reciprocal. On the other hand, it was also passive most of the time. While Stiles demonstrated intense interest -- interjecting facts into a police investigation, waiting outside the hospital, talking to her when she wasn't listening -- most of the time he was an observer at a distance.

On the other hand, he did take deliberate steps that crossed boundaries. Even Stiles's die-hard detractors would argue that he's not ignorant of social norms. His behavior with a drugged-up Lydia in The Tell was very questionable, though he resisted the temptation to go too far. His pushing Scott to sniff Lydia when he knows it's a full moon was dangerous as was his attempt to punish Scott in Lunatic (1x09) for it. His rants to Lydia in both Formality and Master Plan also places his own emotional needs far above hers, reducing her to an object in those situations. Yet, as Lydia and Stiles developed a real relationship, these moments subsided, so I don't think it qualifies as a full-blown obsession. Was he more obsessive than Scott? Yes, but that's a matter of slight degree, and far less destructive than Derek's, Peter's, or Matt's obsessive actions.

I hope this gives you some perspective.

#scott mccall #allison argent #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #teen wolf meta #scott mccall defense squad

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masterwords · 2 years ago

Text

standing still

Summary: Hotch & Reid travel to Connecticut for a custodial interview with Chester Hardwick before he's put to death. Their trip does not go smoothly. (ASD!Hotch & ASD!Reid, plus some Hotchgan.) (Coda to 3x14 - Damaged)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan (but Derek is barely in the story)

Warnings: vomit, meltdown, food, depression, anxiety, divorce, canon-typical mention of crime/murder

Words: 6k

Notes: Ah, well, an idea on a whim yesterday produced 6k words overnight. Where did it come from? I don't know. But it's here. And it puts me over 50k words posted for the month of January which is pretty fucking cool.

The hotel is haunted.

Supposedly.

Hotch has heard the stories enough times, he's stayed there plenty over the years. Back when custodial interviews were more common and the jet wasn't an option, and he was the new guy on the block drawing the short straw. Never experienced a ghost that he's aware of, but if he has, they're very hospitable. He likes this hotel. The beds are comfortable, the continental breakfast is simple and predictable, the water pressure in the showers is strong. Not blast your skin clean off of your body strong but pounding those knots out of your muscles strong.

So, if it's haunted, he really doesn't care. But Reid has been doing some digging and he's excited to talk to locals about it. He doesn't believe in ghosts, per se, but he loves to collect stories. So, the hotel is haunted, and people say the prison is too. One of the cell blocks, anyway. He wants to ask the Warden about it in the morning. Connecticut is rife with stories of hauntings that go all the way back to the Headless Horseman.

“Have you heard about the prison? They say it's haunted by a former inmate who was killed by a group of guards. I guess the guards got to a point where they wouldn't go on that cell block, so they turned it into a storage facility. Funny, too, that a prison that still conducts executions is so focused on one death. You would think the whole place would be crawling with the souls of the dead prisoners.”

“I've heard,” Hotch replies quietly, staring at the road. He's lost in his mind. “But I haven't paid it much attention.”

“Well, I don't believe in ghosts but it's fascinating the way these stories take hold. The grip that they have on people, even rational people who say they don't believe, is powerful. People say they've seen file cabinets levitating and they hear moaning and screaming from that end of the prison at the full moon."

“A few minutes of fame can make someone say just about anything. We've seen it plenty of times during cases.”

He's not able to focus on the conversation for long. It comes in bits and pieces, scattered moments between the phone buzzing angrily at his thigh. It's Haley calling. Every fifteen minutes she calls, lets it ring and ring, then leaves a voicemail. That's 20 angry voicemails, give or take, by the time they get there if she keeps up at her current pace. 20 tirades that he has to listen to even though his gut tells him not to. Just delete them, he knows exactly what she wants.

She wants him to sign the papers. He's got them in his go bag. The plan is to read them again, really read them this time, but he doesn't want to and he's definitely putting it off. Derek already read them once. He went through them with a fine-tooth comb, because he's not emotionally involved...not like that anyway. He gave them his seal of approval. “It's all legit, man. She just wants to dissolve the marriage, let you guys manage the rest on your own. It's a good deal. You already gave her everything anyway...”

He's going to be sick if he doesn't eat something. It's a sudden realization, he's been ignoring that pang in his stomach so long that it's practically an emergency now. Up ahead is a roadside diner with a sign that's half lit up in bright yellow bulbs (the other half are in dire need of replacement but by the looks of it they have no real plans to do so). Hotch knows it's a gamble with Reid but it's one he's willing to take. The alternative is worse. Much worse.

“Let's get an early dinner here.” It's barely past lunch time, but he doesn't plan to eat again so that's just how it comes out. Aware that he sounds elderly, an old man after his early bird special, he smiles and tries to play it off casually but his stomach hurts so bad it's hard to hide. “They don't look busy, it'll be fast.”

“Diners aren't known for their cleanliness.”

“It's the only place around for miles. I'm sure we'll be okay.”

Inside, it's exactly what Hotch expects. Emerald green vinyl booths with silver plated tables, the look of every ice cream soda shop from the 1950s. Well, the idyllic version of that decade that mainstream media wants you to feel nostalgic for, anyway. There are framed movie posters on the wall with Ronald Reagan's face on some, Betty Boop on others. Reid looks around and frowns. He's not confident in this place but he walks inside anyway, stepping carefully around the bubble gum and sticker machines in the small entry. One quarter for a hard gumball that tastes like fruity plastic and threatens to chip your tooth until you can manage your way through the exterior. A dentist's worst nightmare. And they're not individually wrapped, just sitting there in the clear glass calling out to children who don't know any better. He shudders at the thought.

At the hostess station, he peers at the framed health department notices hung cockeyed on the wall in cheap frames, studying the dates of their last checks and whether they passed inspection. He eyeballs the kitchen, the greasy flat top, the cooks sweating and swearing and laughing over them. They both look relatively clean, but one has a beard and he's not wearing anything to cover it. It's not exactly a nightmare scenario, it's actually better than he'd anticipated, but he still would rather not eat here. He's got plenty of pre-packaged safe foods in his go bag.

The restaurant isn't busy, though it looks like they've just missed a rush by all of the full dish bins. They're between meal hours. That's a blessing, it affords them time and quiet, both things that Reid can tell Hotch needs. He's usually pretty reserved but today he's a whole new level of difficult.

Hotch slides into his side of the booth immediately, like he needs to sit down before he collapses. The cracked vinyl groans under his weight and he tries to find a spot that's comfortable. Reid reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet of Lysol wipes, first getting his side of the table and then his side of the booth. Hotch pays no attention; he's already looking at the menu. Reid always wipes everything down first and it normally doesn't bother Hotch, he finds it endearing if not a little pointless considering the surroundings, but today everything that everyone is doing makes him feel itchy and like he's going to vibrate right out of his skin.

His stomach is bothering him. It's the stress. He can't stop thinking about the voicemails, wondering if he should go outside and listen to them. He could grab some Tums from his go bag while he's out there, kill two birds with one stone but he doesn't want to get back up. He's exhausted by the mere thought of it. Besides, the stomachache will turn into a headache in no time anyway and the Tums will be just as pointless as Reid's Lysol wipes.

“What are you going to order?” Reid asks absentmindedly, looking over the freshly cleaned menu. He's thinking about the cook and his beard, trying to figure out what he can order that's going to require the least amount of human interaction with his food. A piece of pie might be it; he saw them in the case already sliced and covered in plastic. He likes individual pre-packaged servings. It's doubtful they were baked here, he figures they're factory made and packaged by machines, the human part of it being minimal. He could probably get away with not thinking about who sliced it.

But then a slice of pie isn't dinner, and he is hungry.

“I don't know,” Hotch replies quietly, not at all hungry. But he's the one who decided to pull over so he's going to have to order something. He'd just wanted to stop driving, to catch his breath for a minute. Now he's got to come up with some food item that won't upset his stomach further, something that won't kill him when it comes back up later. He's already anticipating a rough night. “Maybe soup and some toast.”

“Did you know that in many restaurants, the soup of the day is made using whatever leftover ingredients are on the verge of needing to be thrown out as a way to curb waste? I saw that the soup of the day here was the tomato basil with garlic toast points, so...”

Hotch frowns behind his menu without looking up. “I suppose I'm doing my part to stop unnecessary waste, then. Tomato soup sounds nice.”

It isn't the response Spencer was hoping for, but he shrugs and turns back to his own menu. Pie. He's going to have pie and he'll snack on the food he brought later. He hails a waitress, not theirs, and asks which pies are made in house. She answers with pride that they make most of them in house, their baker comes in at 3am every day and even makes the crust herself. There are only two they have shipped because the ingredients are hard to keep on hand. When their waitress comes by, he orders one of the two kinds they don't make here. “Pecan, please.”

Hotch orders the tomato soup without a second thought. It comes in a large white bowl set on a little plate with saltine crackers, and the deep velvety velvety crimson of the tomato is a stark contrast to the bowl's brightness. In the center is a dash what looks like basil or parsley and a swirl of heavy cream on top.

“I read that they blend up old vegetables from the salads for tomato soup,” Reid mutters, wiping his fork on his pant leg. There are dishwasher spots on it. “It helps bulk it up, especially when the cost of tomatoes is so high. That soup is probably mostly lettuce and carrots.”

“Reid,” Hotch says quietly, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. There it is, the headache. “Less commentary about the food I'm about to eat would be appreciated.”

Reid smiles awkwardly, twirling his fork in his hands. “Sorry. Force of habit. I find the restaurant business simultaneously fascinating and horrifying.”

Hotch doesn't acknowledge Reid's statement; he just picks up his spoon and swirls it in the soup. Clockwise. He turns it in one big circle around the edge, dragging the spoon along the bowl, and then swoops inward to fold the cream into the red. The soup turns a vibrant peachy-orange and he smiles, the color looks serene and peaceful. He thinks about lettuce when he takes his first bite, but thankfully isn't able to taste it. After three bites he doesn't think about lettuce anymore. He thinks about being a child, about weekend lunches of canned condensed tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Every Saturday. Predictable. Comforting.

“Hotch,” Reid interrupts, and when he looks up, he's looking at crime scenes. Spread out in front of them, all over the table, his plate of pie lost somewhere in the middle of the gore...he didn't even realize Reid brought the files inside. It isn't that much of a stretch; the team often does this. They talk loudly about horrific things around the general public because what choice do they have? None of them even flinch at the sight of these things anymore. But not here. Not now. There are children eating with their parents two booths away. Hotch frowns. “Is this everything? I thought there were more. Chester Hardwick killed -”

“Please put those away.” Hotch doesn't care what Reid is about to say, he just interrupts him. His skin goes electric.

“We need to...”

“Not here.” He's about to lose it, he really is. Reid gives him a strange look, almost defiant and definitely confused, but he starts sliding the photos back into their folders just before their waitress brings Hotch his plate of whole wheat toast. He didn't want the garlic toast; his special order took an extra minute and now she was paying dearly for it. Involuntarily, she makes a displeased sound, a surprised little gasp, and he glances up at her with apology written all over in his honey eyes.

“I'm sorry,” Hotch says. “Sometimes we forget where we are when we're working.”

“What um...what is it you fellas do exactly?” she asks, refilling Hotch's coffee with trembling hands. He's on his third cup, his hands are trembling a little too. The coffee isn't making his stomach feel any better but it'll help him finish the drive.

“We're with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” Reid chimes in, closing the last of the folders. “We um, we catch serial killers. Today we're on our way to interview one before his scheduled execution.”

She stares, wide-eyed, and Hotch sighs. Under normal circumstances he would just let Reid do what he does. He's not doing anything wrong, and he knows without a doubt that all of the problems he's having are his entirely. He's overstimulated and extra prickly today. “Thank you for the coffee.” He doesn't mean it to sound as dismissive as it does and he's acutely aware as she turns and leaves the table that he's been rude. “Reid, she didn't need all of that information. A simple answer would have sufficed.”

“Sorry,” Reid chirps, digging at his pie. He picks the pecans off of the top first. “Force of habit.”

“So you've said.”

This is their first trip together, one on one. Sure, they've been all over the country as a group, but it's never just been the two of them and Hotch is certain now that he's not in the right frame of mind to handle it. He likes Reid, he enjoys him and his info-dumps. He always learns something new when he's with Reid. Besides, it's startlingly nice to be around another person who doesn't think the same as everyone else, who filters the world through a different operating system. Those were Garcia's words when she, very bluntly, asked if he was autistic. Reid always assumed it, but Garcia had no qualms about simply asking.

She had asked after running into him in the break room and watching him go through his very regimented steps to make his cup of coffee. Not that he did anything out of the ordinary, she explained, just that he didn't get his coffee from coffee stands like everyone else. He always insisted on making his own and he always did the same thing. Dump the filter, clean the pot, make one single cup using his own bag of grounds and a bottle of water brought from home because he didn't like what the filtration system in the building did to the flavor of his coffee. He kept his grounds in a small paper bag in the back of the freezer with his name on them, and his water bottle was labeled as well. All the years she'd known him, it was the same thing, and they disappeared at a very regimented pace. She claimed it was obvious. He knew there was more to it than that, she was just being nice and overly simplistic. He tried not to overthink it, dwell on it...he almost succeeded, too. But he did dwell a little, wondering how many other things he did that were just odd enough to tip her off.

Ultimately it didn't make any difference.

“I don't like my coffee to be a surprise,” he'd said quietly, a little defensive. “Sometimes with coffee shops, you'll get a different thing every day even with the same order. They'll try to surprise you with more of something or less of something, or they'll change the beans they use, or the strength of the brew. I prefer not to guess whether my coffee is what I want.”

“It's okay, sir, I understand completely. I go to the same bakery every time because they've been around for fifty years with the same recipes.”

“Trudeau's?” Hotch asked, smiling. She nodded.

“The one and only. You always know what you're going to get, and it's always going to be good.”

The problem Hotch runs into frequently is that his operating system, so to speak, isn't like Reid's. Or Garcia's. He's the odd man out even here where he thinks he should be able to relate. He knows it's a spectrum, of course he knows that, but it doesn't stop him feeling isolated. The discouragement that comes from knowing how separate he is makes it hard for him to find a way to communicate it.

So, he doesn't. He keeps his mouth shut and his head down and he just forges on.

That Derek learned his tells early on was a mixed blessing. He'd groaned about being profiled, unwritten team rules, but secretly he thought it was nice to be seen.

If Haley wasn't so angry with him, maybe he'd be better able to manage his own expectations and reactions in this situation which was really going quite well, all things considered. He was so skilled at masking and managing that these days when he was raw and vulnerable and completely unable to keep his shields up were few and far between...but since the divorce papers were served, he couldn't name a single day he felt totally in control. Derek helps when he can, where he can. Derek has been a life raft in a raging sea, but he can't fix everything. He's got problems and a life of his own. He's got mountains to climb and traumas to heal. Hotch is acutely aware that he takes more than he gives frequently and needs to do better. Derek would vehemently disagree with that. But it doesn't matter, he's sitting at the table mortified by how rude he'd been to the waitress and to Reid, wishing Derek were here to help him back to the path.

But Derek couldn't come, not this time. Someone had to stay behind and run the BAU while Hotch was away without cell reception in a prison. It puts them all in a vulnerable position and anymore, he preferred to be the one to do it. Which left his second in command to man the ship. Hotch couldn't think of anyone better to run the team, and the fact that Derek had chosen to love him on top of all of his needs, in spite of all of that, he still isn't sure how it happened. He sometimes forgets he's lovable at all.

Today he's completely out of control. It's just fitting, in some way, that his version of out of control still looks very subtle if you don't look too closely. No one can tell he's breaking. He just looks grouchy. He's sure he'll make it to the hotel before the cracks in his armor start becoming visible.

“We should get back on the road. I looked up the traffic reports and if we're not in city limits by 4pm, we're going to be stuck on the highway for an average of thirty to sixty minutes longer than necessary.”

“You've hardly eaten your pie,” Hotch says, poking at his own barely eaten toast. He plans to finish the meal if it kills him, traffic be damned. “I'm not concerned about the time, we don't have anywhere to be until tomorrow.”

They get to the hotel in a reasonable time, not exactly as good as they'd hoped but not as bad as Reid feared. It's possible Hotch might have been going a little over the posted limits in places, but Reid wasn't going to tell anyone. It's still better than Emily's driving. He suddenly understands why Derek always holds the door handle when he's in the passenger seat, though.

“One room?” Hotch asks the clerk, exasperated at the sight of the one key card. He should have known. “They only booked us one room? Would it be possible to get another?”

“I'm sorry sir, there's a convention and a concert here tonight, we're booked solid. I might be able to find you two rooms somewhere else if you'd like me to call around. You'll have better luck just outside the city.”

Hotch knew this hotel. Sure, a second room would be nice but a hotel he wasn't familiar with sounded just a bit too much for him right now. He and Reid have shared a room before. It isn't ideal, not by a longshot, but it works. “No, thank you. One room is fine. There are two beds, though?”

“Yes, sir. It's a double queen. Non-smoking. No pets.”

“We don't smoke or have pets.”

The room is small. That's the first thing that Hotch notices. He's always had a single room here and he thinks it's the same size but with an extra bed. And speaking of beds...the second thing he notices is that the beds are not, in fact, queen sized. They are full, a whole size smaller. He sets his bag neatly on top of the bed closest to the door while Reid goes for the one further in... that's always how they do it. Hotch stays closer to the point of entry, no matter who he rooms with. And then he puts the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. He doesn't care for people coming into his room, to clean or not.

“You can take the first shower,” he offers, pulling out his suit for the next morning and hanging it up. There are voices next door, muffled but clearly a man and some children. Paper thin walls, he can hear everything the man is saying to the children. Telling them to be quiet, to quit stomping, to turn the television down. Reid nods and heads right for the bathroom with his Ziplock bag of cleaning supplies. He always brings his own in order to sanitize the tub and shower head before he uses them, and Hotch, knowing this, always offers the first shower. The first time Reid did it after he showered, he felt filthy. Like Reid was cleaning him off of the tub. Never again.

He doesn't care about who gets the first shower, otherwise. He kicks his shoes off and sits on his bed, leaning back against the bleach scented pillows in their over-starched cases and closes his eyes. His head is throbbing.

Reid leaves the bathroom smelling like Lysol and bleach and Hotch watches as he strips his bed of the comforter. “Did you know they don't wash these?” he asks, dumping it into the corner like it disgusts him. “They wash the blankets and sheets with all sorts of harsh chemicals, they go scorched earth, but rarely the comforter. Not unless it's visibly soiled.”

“I had no idea,” Hotch lies. He does know, he just...once again...does not care. He can't care about everything and he's got more than enough on his plate right now. “I'll take yours, if you don't plan to use it. I get cold.” That's the damn truth. Reid sleeps with the air conditioner on no matter what the season. Hotch can't take it.

“It's all yours.” Reid barely hides the disgust in his features as he tosses the green and gold comforter toward his boss. Hotch doesn't notice the look; he just wads it up beside him and is satisfied knowing he's got a little extra protection against the cold air assault later.

He decides to take a walk down to the vending machine for some pretzels, and that's when he pulls out his phone and listens to the messages. One after another, terse and angry, Haley tells him to sign the papers, to call him, asks him why he won't just do it. Two of the messages are from Jessica calmly telling him to get his head out of his ass and call one of them back. “If you won't talk to her, fine. Talk to me. Just call one of us. Either that or I'm going to assume you've been injured in the line of duty and start calling your bosses...”

Jessica gets the call. He would have tried Haley but he just...he can't. It'll turn into a fight.

"It's about damn time," she says through clenched teeth and he closes his eyes.

“I'm on the road,” he says quietly. “I've been driving all day with Doctor Reid. The constant phone calls and threats are a little much, don't you think?”

“We were worried.”

“No, you were worried. She's only concerned about my signature.”

“Fair enough. Just get it over with. Sign the damn papers.”

“I haven't had any time to read them.”

“You of all people should know exactly what's in there, and besides, I know you already asked Derek to read them. You don't trust him? What's really stopping you?”

He sighs and pushes the button that reads B9 for the pretzels. They get stuck on the way down, jammed between the spiral and the window, and he thinks that's it. He's going to cry. That's all it takes, one single second of that crinkly blue bag of Rold Gold tiny twist pretzels getting stuck right there and the tears are burning tracks down his cheeks. “I need time.”

He's pacing back and forth in front of the vending machine now, wearing a track in the dingy red carpet. His mind loops. The papers. The drive. The soup. The photos. The pretzels. Repeat repeat. He worries the pads of his fingers over his nails until they nearly bleed and his breathing speeds up. Jessica can hear it, she knows exactly what this looks like, but she isn't gentle. He passed on gentle hours ago when he ignored her calls, she figures.

“Suck it up. Read the papers tonight, sign them tomorrow. Be done with it, Aaron. Move on. She already has.”

“I'll read the papers tonight.” He repeats the one part of what she said that he can manage. It makes her pause, re-calibrate her course before she sends him into a tailspin. She's dangerously close and she does feel bad. She understands, Haley has been at her throat all day today too.

“Just sign the papers and I promise it'll make everything better. Do it for Jack, so you two can get back on good terms. Jack needs you both to remember how much you mean to one another. And I know Derek would like it if you'd let it go...please. Sign the papers.”

He can't breathe. He's standing with his back against the wall and overcome with the feeling that his legs are about to give out, the world is about to go dark, he's about to lose whatever shred of control he still held. His body is giving him what little warning it can, and it isn't much. He's better at listening now than he used to be. “I'll call you tomorrow when I'm back in town.”

“Sign the papers Aaron!”

She hollers it into the phone, one last demand. He barely hears it before he hangs up and stumbles back to the room without his pretzels, someone else can have them. He makes his way immediately for the shower, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Reid barely notices, he's got Chester Hardwick's photos spread out all over his bed and he's deep in thought. “The hot water takes a minute,” he says absently, as if Hotch is right there.

It doesn't matter, anyway. He's not going for the shower yet. He almost doesn't make it to the toilet before he vomits. Reid can definitely hear that, and it startles him, but he assumes it's food poisoning and he isn't at all surprised. That damn soup. Lettuce is notorious for salmonella. Hotch is happy to let him think it's food poisoning too, it's a harmless lie. Better than the alternative.

His shower is anything but relaxing. He presses his forehead into the tile so hard it hurts while his stomach cramps and he's worried he's going to throw up again but the pressure he keeps on his forehead stills the nausea. For now. He's not exactly crying, it's sort of just miserable gasping for air while the shower washes away his tears. He can barely breathe. His hands are balled so tight his fingernails cut crescents in his palms and he can feel the small spots of blood pooling there. Sign the papers, Aaron. Sign the papers, Aaron. Uncontested, that's what she wants. He doesn't have a problem with that part of it. He'd willingly give her everything, keep nothing for himself. That isn't it, that isn't it at all. He doesn't want to sign it because signing it is permanent. Right now there is still hope. He still wears the ring. She hasn't worn hers in a long time, sometimes it's around her neck and other times it's nowhere in sight...but his is still firmly in place on his finger. Hope. Some shred, however minuscule, still exists and the minute his signature is on that page it's gone.

And he's alone.

What's he supposed to do with the bare skin where the ring once sat?

He cries harder. The walls are paper thin and if someone on the other side is in the bathroom, they can definitely hear his miserable moaning. Sobbing. He collapses slowly, crumples, his joints folding and his limbs contorting until he's sitting in the tub in a ball sobbing into his kneecaps. He hasn't had a meltdown like this in years, not since Adrian Bale and that bomb put him in charge of the BAU and left him just about as vulnerable as he'd ever been. But he'd had Derek then, and he pulled through. The one constant good was Derek.

“Hotch? Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he grunts with his wet lips in tear pools against his knees. He can't make himself sound fine, but he knows Reid isn't going to push further. He never does. They may not experience things in the same way, but Reid can recognize a meltdown when he sees it and he knows better than to try and intervene. The last thing Hotch needs is extra attention.

He goes about his business instead, glad to be sure now that Hotch's soup wasn't killing him. He prepares, rehearses, but still listens. A meltdown isn't going to hurt Hotch but falling in the shower might and he's more than a little concerned about that. Statistics are overwhelming when it comes to shower related injuries.

When Hotch walks out of the bathroom in sweatpants and a t-shirt with red-rimmed eyes glassy and dazed, Reid doesn't say a thing. Not at first. He notices, it would be impossible not to, but he can't find anything to say about it, so he asks the question that's on his mind.

“What time do we need to be at the prison? I'd like to set the alarm now.”

“7am. We'll be done and on the road by 9am.” That's it. Hotch spreads the second comforter over his bed and he burrows beneath the blankets. That's all he's got in him. Reid stays up pouring over files he's already memorized, full of nervous excitement. Custodials always put him into a frenzied mindset. He hasn't done too many of them and this is definitely the most excited he's been. Chester Hardwick doesn't talk to anyone, refused their requests repeatedly.

The meeting with Hardwick is something neither of them wants to discuss once they're out of the prison. Once they're back in the fresh air under the bright blue sky, not locked up in a cement room with a madman who thinks killing a couple of FEDs will earn him a stay of execution. Maybe it would have, but Reid managed to talk their way out of it. The very thing that Hotch loves about Reid, and the thing that has been getting under his skin for the last day, saved their lives. He's grateful. It isn't lost on him. But it didn't stop him from shedding his jacket and tie, squaring up, almost hoping that Hardwick would try. He could take a beating for thirteen minutes, and he could give it right back. No way Hardwick would have managed to kill both of them, but he still feels guilty. His foul mood, that electric feeling, it didn't go anywhere while he slept. It only got worse.

Chester Hardwick's threats were enough to settle him, to bring him back to the reality where he's in charge, where he's in control.

But he knows he probably owes Reid his life. He starts with an apology that burns his tight lungs, and then explains that Haley wants him to sign the divorce papers uncontested. No lawyers. It's faster that way, he says. And her constant hounding has been getting to him more than it should.

Reid's answer is simplistic and sweet. He doesn't understand the complication, the intricate balance and Hotch smiles sadly. He just asks what Hotch wants and isn't that funny...because it doesn't matter. This whole thing is moving along full steam ahead whether he wants it or not. “What I want, I can't have.”

Reid seems to understand that much. He knows Hotch doesn't want to lose his family; he also knows that his family is already gone. He has no idea what to say, how to respond, but the silence screams so loud it almost hurts. He has to fill it with something. Part of him wants to bring up a conversation he had with the Warden about the haunted cell block, but he refrains. Hangs out in more neutral territory.

“Derek and the team will be back from Indianapolis by the time we get home. He'll know what to do.”

Hotch smiles and nods. “You're probably right.”

“It's a good thing we have him around, huh?”

“Yes,” Hotch whispers, feeling his heart beating wildly against his chest in a different way. Untamed but not painful. “It is.”

"Do you want to stop for lunch? I did some research and there's a diner about fifty miles ahead that gets good reviews." It's clean, that's what he means. None of the reviews talk about food poisoning or flies in the windowsills.

Hotch smiles wearily and nods. "Lunch sounds nice."

When they return to Quantico, Derek is already at his desk finishing up a detailed report of the case for Hotch. All the papers Hotch would normally do, he's already deep in the thick of before it's even asked of him. He hates it so much. But after talking to Reid for a few minutes earlier, he knows it's better to anticipate this one and get ahead of it. They'll have to defend their choice to take the jet and follow Rossi into his cold case that wasn't even on the BAU's radar.

"How was your day?" Derek asks, flipping the page. Reid shrugs and sets his bag down.

"Ultimately uneventful." If only Derek knew. Maybe he'd tell him later, but not now.

Hotch passes through the bullpen without looking at anyone. He just heads directly to his office and shuts the door.

He's got papers to sign.

Derek has his doubts about how uneventful things were, at least given Hotch's icy demeanor. Usually he would at least have greeted them, asked how the case went, asked how the reports were coming so he had a clue about what happened. He did none of those things.

Later, when everyone has settled into the late afternoon workload, Derek enters Hotch's office without knocking. He doesn't do that anymore. Hasn't in a long time. In one hand he's got a mug of tea, steaming and hot, and the other he uses to shut the door behind him.

“Hotch,” he says, approaching the desk cautiously. The divorce papers are right there, signed and ready to be handed over. There are damp places where the tears soaked in, and his bright gold ring sits right at the top. Derek already knows the answer to the question he's about to ask, but it dances over his lips nonetheless. “You good?”

Hotch looks up at him from beneath thick, wet lashes and shakes his head. “No.”

#aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #hotchgan #hotch x morgan #criminal minds #fanfiction #autistic hotch #autistic reid #autistic aaron hotchner

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invisible-storyteller · 2 years ago

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Why didn't Scott return to Beacon Hills?

(Okay, so I'm just putting my thoughts out there because they would plague my mind otherwise, and movie!Scott doesn't deserve to be spared that much thought. I did like Scott's character in the series - while acknowledging the dumb shit he pulled in canon -, but I absolutely do not like movie!Scott, and yes, I'm making that distinction because this movie feels like an AU more than anything.)

In the movie, it was established that Scott hadn't been back in Beacon Hills for a long time. It was also implied that he simply didn't keep in touch with a lot of his packmates: think about the awkwardness of meeting Malia for the first time after their break up (probably years ago and then they never talked again, ouch) or how he didn't seem to know that Lydia does not use her banshee scream anymore (which makes it pretty likely that he also does not know about Stydia's break up).

Then we have this conversation between Scott and Eli:

Scott: Wow, you got really big.

Eli: Yeah, it's probably because I was only 3 the last time you saw me.

If we accept that 2014 (when Eli was 3) was the last time Scott was in Beacon Hills, then it means that Scott hasn't contacted the pack in 12 years. This might not be correct, though, as the final scene in 6B was literally a flash forward to 2015 (if I remember correctly) when the pack was still together and fighting hunters as a united force. Or the writers are once again forgetting their own canon because I doubt that Derek - with a 4-year-old son at the time - would go off picking battles and getting himself in life-threatening situations while his son is waiting for him at home. Plus I can't imagine Scott being in contact with everyone but not visiting Eli. (Sidenote: Lydia seemed pretty surprised by Derek having a son. Like she didn't know before they met him in the preserve, which is weird in my opinion. Did no one tell her? Had she not visited Beacon Hills in years, too? This pack is so scattered, I swear.)

Anyway, something must have changed in 2014 or 2015 for Scott to choose to burn all bridges and sever all connections. And I think that something was Monroe.

Monroe was formally defeated at the end of 6B but the fight didn't end there. Scott and his pack probably fought hunters on and off, while trying to stay in university and live their own lives, chasing dreams and whatnot. And if there's one thing that has always kept Scott's pack together, then that's a common enemy.

I think 2014 or 2015 was the year when the pack finally put an end to the huge wave of hunters going against their code and managed to establish some kind of peace between the two communities. It didn't mean there were no more hunters, but things returned to "normal", aka the hunters sticking to their original beliefs (hopefully). And with the end of the war came the realization that the pack no longer had a common enemy to push everyone together.

Don't get me wrong, I do think a lot of them stayed in each other's lives. They are friends, after all, and not all ties will break just because some members decided to go MIA. But without the war and the constant proximity of his pack members, Scott's old fear of being unworthy and unimportant resurfaced once again. How do I know? Because Scott seems to have an alpha complex in the movie.

Hear me out! His side job consists of saving people from collapsing buildings, and he does this hero-rescue thing so often that people have an alias for him: the Alpha. When faced with the Nogitsune, he insists on the importance of his role (the Nogitsune can't win until Scott is off the board) and he even shouts "I'm still the alpha!" while revealing what he believes is the Nogitsune's endgame.

But would an actual alpha abandon his pack for 10+ years? I mean, he isn't involved with pack business anymore and he isn't even the one defeating the Nogitsune - that job gets passed onto Parrish and Derek. And yeah, Scott's eyes might be red still, but he's no alpha of anything. He has no pack to take care of and he certainly doesn't have a territory to defend. He still desperately clings to the title, though.

So here are my thoughts on what (must have) happened: After defeating Monroe, Scott realized that he couldn't give much to the pack anymore. They didn't need his leadership, his hope, his supervision or alpha roar or anything like that. Scott was... a friend. There is nothing wrong with being just that, per se, especially with how much emphasis Teen Wolf puts on friendships, so I'm sure the others would have still loved to have Scott in their lives, supernatural threat or not. But here's the thing: Scott has always wanted to be special. Admittedly, I think a lot of us do. But it's sad to see that Scott couldn't overcome this fear of being obsolete, of being mediocre. For 15 years, he couldn't realize that his worth went beyond his alpha status, meaning that he's the main character without any character development.

He probably did come back after the first year at uni and watched Derek be happy with his son and living a quiet suburban life, no longer relying on an alpha. Malia probably broke up with him or they just parted ways somewhat awkwardly, so that was one more person who didn't need him anymore. Lydia was working on her career, busy balancing school and a relationship while she was finally out there spreading her wings. Stiles was free, too, finding his true calling. And Beacon Hills was peaceful. Certainly didn't require an alpha's intervention.

So Scott decided to look for another place where he could still be useful, where people needed him. He began to rescue dogs and people alike because that's what he knew how to do, because that was what made him feel like an alpha again.

It's too bad he didn't realize that he was already important. That he could have helped so much by just being there for his pack, for his friends.

The bottom line is: I do not like movie!Scott, not because he's OOC but because the writers didn't bother to develop his character past his high school self (I'm sure Allison and he won't have problems with picking up where they left off). And if Scott abandoned his pack, then I think this was the reason behind it. His own insecurities.

#teen wolf the movie #teen wolf meta

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trashpandafiction · 1 year ago

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We Survive (3)

Summary: What happens when the Behavioral Analysis Unit comes across a situation they weren’t trained for? When the dead begin to roam the Earth, it challenges the BAU to something they’ve never dealt with before: the apocalypse. Along their journey for survival, they come across Rick Grimes and his group of survivors. Among the survivors is Jocelynn Russo, who thinks that the new group could be helpful to them. Things seem to go well until an unexpected enemy appears. Will Negan and the Saviors be the one thing to break the groups, or will they be able to defend themselves? All anyone knows is they have one common goal; to survive. Pairings: None yet. Word Count: 4,075 Warnings: Mention of suicide, blood, and guns. A/N: Switched up a little bit from the first version of this because the first time around, I didn't exactly write everyone in character. Hopefully this still fits! If you’d like to be tagged in future updates, just let me know! Please do not redistribute my work without my permission! Reblogging is fine with credit intact.

Three - The Encounter

It had been two days since the BAU team was separated, and since then, each of the members seemed to be grieving and moving forward in their own ways. None of them really wanted to deal with the reality that David, Emily, and Derek were most likely dead in the cabin, or they were among the dead walking. It was a tough reality, and while they knew that this world was more dangerous than anything they had dealt with before, they weren’t prepared to deal with it so quickly.

Aaron focused on making plans and keeping the group safe. He made sure that they had a good shelter and took charge of supply runs. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt responsible for losing the three team members. Whenever there was a quiet moment, Aaron would run through ways that he could have gone back and saved them. There had to have been something that he could have done differently. It may have been a risk to do so, but maybe he could have been the one who was lost instead of the others. Of course, the FBI side of him was reminding him that he did the right thing when he spared more lives than he lost. That didn’t make him feel any better though.

JJ tried to keep herself busy by making sure that the supplies that they had were rationed out for the group. She made sure that everyone was fed and had water, but also made sure that no one was using too much so that they would have enough to get them through until they found permanent shelter. She had lost people in the past, as had Aaron, but there was something about these losses that just wasn’t really setting in with her. In her mind, they weren’t gone; they were just separated from them. She was hoping that it was her gut feeling, and that she was right because losing them was already taking a toll on everyone, and it wasn’t even a sure thing; just assumed.

Spencer handled things like he normally did; he focused on their odds, statistics, and reading anything he could get his hands on. He stayed fairly quiet, but he was constantly helping everyone else, so he wasn’t just idle. Whenever someone would mention what happened, he would try and shift the conversation as subtly as he could, but he knew that everyone could tell what he was doing. He pushed himself to try and stop blaming himself, but he just couldn’t. If he had been quicker or refused to let Emily switch places with him, maybe she’d be here.

Penelope did what she always did; she focused on making sure that everyone around her was happy and busy. Whether she was helping take inventory with JJ, pestering Spencer and Aaron to make sure they were taken care of, she kept busy. She sort of took on her FBI role again, because it kept her mind occupied and she felt like she needed to pick up some slack anyway. She knew how to use a gun, Derek taught her before they left the BAU, but she didn’t like using it. One of her newest ways of keeping occupied was trying to find other weapons they could use that would be quieter and wouldn’t draw attention to them when the dead were around. Of course, that was nearly impossible since every weapon in the area seemed to be gone.

Overall, the group was getting by, and they seemed to be doing alright in the small house they found. It was big enough for them to spread out a bit, but small enough so that they knew what was going on in the house at any given time. They had been at this house for two days, and their supplies were running low. As much as JJ tried to ration things, it just wasn’t enough to keep them going for a long period of time. They were closer to a small town which meant that there were more places for them to check, including an old grocery store and an old firehouse. They had checked the gas station and the diner in town, but they didn’t have much. As much as they wanted to stay together as a unit, they needed supplies and couldn’t lose out on a decent shelter.

On their third day at the house, Aaron was getting ready to go on a run with Spencer. He grabbed a backpack and made sure that his gun was loaded as much as it could be. The incident at the cabin set them back even more in ammo, so they tried to ration it. As he saw Spencer enter the room, he looked up at him. “We’ll leave here in five minutes.” he said, noticing that Spencer didn’t seem ready. “Where’s your bag?” he asked.

Spencer shrugged a bit, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m gonna stay back and help Garcia clean her weapon.” It was a lame excuse, but it was better than nothing. He didn’t trust himself on the run; he couldn’t let someone else get hurt on his behalf.

“Couldn’t JJ help her with that?” Aaron asked. He trusted JJ on runs and knew that she was more than capable of handling herself, but he also didn’t want Spencer to hide from the things he didn’t want to face.

JJ came out of the other room and had an empty backpack on her back. “I’m gonna be helping you.” she said with a small smile. “I’m kind of going stir crazy in here, and Penelope is probably tired of me trying to mother her. I hope that’s alright.” she added, giving Aaron a knowing look.

He looked at her, then at Spencer, and then back at her. “Alright.” He said with a nod. “We’ll leave in five minutes.” He said before heading into the other room to let Penelope know that they were leaving.

“Sir, are you sure you two can’t just stay here a bit longer? I’m sure we could stretch our supplies a bit further.” Penelope said when he entered the room.

Aaron gave her a small smile and shook his head. “You know that’s not possible. The town isn’t that far from here, and we’ll be back before the sun sets.” He assured her.

“Yes, but that’s what you said last time, and you were all late. I don’t think I have another Mother Hen speech prepared just yet.” She said to him.

Aaron looked at her and smiled. “You won’t need a Mother Hen speech because we’re going to be back before sunset. We’re leaving earlier than we did on the last run, so we’ll cover more ground before we need to head back.” He informed her.

She nodded and gave him a tight hug. “You go out there and you get all of the supplies in the county so no one has to leave again.” She said. They both knew that task was impossible, but at least it relieved some tension.

Aaron returned the hug and nodded. “I plan on it.” He said and headed back into the other room.

Once they said goodbye to Spencer, JJ and Aaron headed out of the house and down the road towards the town. The walk there was quiet, minus directions being given or the occasional “Head’s up” when they saw one of the undead. When they finally got to the firehouse, they went inside and checked the place for weapons or supplies they could use. There were a few blankets, and a couple cans of food that were stowed away in one of the engines. They grabbed a few miscellaneous things that they could potentially use and headed out towards the diner. As they approached the building, JJ spoke up.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s touched this place in a long time.” She looked into the windows of the diner and looked around a bit. “It looks clear in there, but I can’t see the back rooms.”

Aaron nodded, looking around the area. “There’s probably a back door, but anything could be back there. We’ll have a better chance if we enter through the front, that way we can have a clear way out if needed.”

She gave him a nod before opening the door. The two of them walked into the diner and looked around, not seeing anything, or hearing anything. They both split up to make sure that there wasn’t anyone or anything hiding behind the bar.

“Let’s get what we can in here, and then we’ll-.” he started to whisper before hearing a loud crash from the back of the diner.

She furrowed her brow, pulling her gun out and aiming it towards the kitchen. She barely had time to make a plan before a female voice came from the front door.

“Don’t move, either of you.” Jocelynn spoke, a large hunting knife in hand. “The gunshot will just draw more in. There’s a group of them in the back, my friends are clearing them out.” She explained.

Aaron held his gun, looking at JJ before nodding to her to tell her to keep her gun aimed towards the kitchen, just in case. “How many were there?” he asked softly, looking at Jocelynn.

“About five or six.” She replied. “Shouldn’t take long, but if they get brought this way, we’re going to have to fight back.” She had gone on runs before, but she hadn’t gone on a run where they ran into other people.

After a bit of noise coming from the kitchen, Rick and Michonne emerged from the doors, Rick aiming his gun at Aaron while Michonne held her sword in hand. Aaron aimed his gun at Rick, and JJ aimed hers at Michonne. Jocelynn looked at the windows to make sure the place was still clear before turning to the others again.

Rick narrowed his eyes, looking at the unfamiliar male and female. “Who are you?”

Aaron looked at the man aiming the gun at him. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, this is Jennifer Jareau. We used to work for the FBI in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’re not here to start a fight, we just came for supplies for our group.” He explained.

Rick looked at the Aaron, “FBI?” he questioned. The tone in his voice made it apparent that he didn’t quite believe the story this man was giving him. “How many are in your group?” he asked.

“There’s just four of us now. We had seven, but we lost three of them in a herd.” JJ spoke up before lowering her gun. “We’re out of supplies and just trying to find what we can. We aren’t trying to step on any toes or anything, we just want to provide for our group. I can imagine that’s what you three are here for too.”

Jocelynn looked at Rick and Michonne and then lowered her knife. “We are. I’m sorry that you two lost some of your group.” she said, looking at Rick and Aaron as they still aimed their guns at each other.

Rick looked at Aaron and nodded. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He said, putting his gun down. “I’m Rick, this is Michonne, and Jocelynn.” he said, watching as Aaron put his gun back into the back of his jeans.

“We really aren’t here to cause trouble, I’m sure if there’s anything here, we can split it evenly.” JJ spoke up. “Do you three have a group, or is it just you?” she asked, putting her gun into the holster.

Michonne looked at JJ and put her sword back into the holder. “We have a group. We’re on a supply run.” She said.

Rick looked at JJ and then Aaron before speaking. “How much do you have left? Food, water, ammo?” he asked them.

“Not enough, but we’re getting by.” Aaron said. “We only just got into the area a few days ago and this was our first stop.”

Jocelynn looked at Rick and hesitated a moment before speaking up. “Well we’re all here for the same reason so we might as well get to looking. Someone should stand watch though while we check the back rooms.”

Rick cocked his head to the side at her suggestion, not entirely decided if he wanted to let these two out of his sight. “Michonne, you and Jocelynn can go check the back rooms with Jennifer. Aaron and I can stand watch up here.” He declared.

Aaron wasn’t eager to leave JJ outnumbered with two strangers, but he also didn’t know if he trusted that Rick wouldn’t do something rash either. “That’s fair.”

“We’ll see what we can find and bring it out here to split it.” JJ said.

She followed Michonne and Jocelynn before looking back at Aaron, giving him a look before heading into the back with the two strangers. She looked around and tried to find anything they could use, knowing that anything could be something. Michonne started to go through the cabinets and drawers while Jocelynn checked the supply closet and walk-in freezer. She knew there wouldn’t be much there, but she was taught to never leave a room unchecked.

“So do you have a camp?” Michonne asked as she searched through some of the rubble and other cabinets underneath the stoves.

JJ looked over at her and nodded. “We do. Well, it’s as much of a camp as it can be. We’re holed up in a house we found on our way to town.” She explained, finding a few old knives and a can opener. “What about you and your friends?”

“We have a place to stay.” she said, not wanting to give away too much. “Are you two really FBI agents?” she asked as she came upon an office that had a locked door.

“We were. We worked with the BAU, profiling serial killers and other criminals.” JJ said, standing up to look over at Jocelynn. “Any luck over there?”

She shrugged and let out a breath. “I found a couple of canned items, and some pots and pans. Maybe you could use the pots for boiling water.” She suggested. When she turned to look at the others, he saw the room that Michonne found. “If it’s locked, there might be something in there.”

Michonne nodded and looked at the door. “Are FBI agents trained to pick locks?” she asked, looking at JJ.

“I got it.” Jocelynn said and reached into her bag to get a bobby pin. “Hopefully this doesn’t go on my criminal record.” She half joked, starting to pick the lock.

“You’re safe.” JJ said with a small smile.

Once the door was opened, the three were hit with a strong odor, something like they hadn’t smelled before. In the chair behind the desk was a corpse, blood painted the wall behind it, and a note was left on the desk. Jocelynn groaned, putting her wrist over her nose to block the smell. She was used to seeing the dead walking, not like this. JJ furrowed her brow as she stepped closer to check the note.

“This man killed himself after running out of supplies.” she said, looking around. She pulled the chair back carefully before looking on the ground and seeing the gun. It was a bit dirty, but it would help them. She grabbed it and checked the chamber before nodding. “There’s only one bullet in the gun, but it could be useful to someone.” she said, looking up at Jocelynn and Michonne. “I think that’s all there is to find in here. If he ran out of supplies, there probably wouldn’t be anything else in this office.

The women didn’t think twice before leaving the room and heading towards the front of the diner. JJ followed them, shutting the door of the office before walking into the front of the diner, being met with looks from Aaron and Rick.

“Find anything?” Rick asked, folding his hands in front of him.

Jocelynn nodded, wiping her damp hands on her jeans. “Yeah, they have some pots for boiling water, a couple of cans and a gun.” She said.

Rick raised a brow, standing up a bit straighter. “A weapon?” he asked. It wasn’t usual to be so lucky to find a weapon these days, most had been looted by now.

Before he could get upset, JJ spoke up, showing him the weapon. “It looks like the owner barricaded himself in his office once he ran out of supplies and took his own life. The door wasn’t out in the open, so people probably didn’t think to check there. There’s one bullet in the chamber.”

Aaron nodded and put his bag on one of the tables before looking at Rick and Michonne. “I’m not sure of your situation, but we’ve all got guns and wouldn’t need another one. You’re more than welcome to take the gun back with you as a thank you for letting us take the supplies we could find, if we could keep the bullet.” One bullet was almost nothing in this world but it was a bullet just the same.

Rick nodded and looked at the gun JJ showed him. “That’s a fair trade I suppose.” He said. Their armory was pretty full back at Alexandria, so did they need an extra gun? “An extra gun goes a long way.” He said before handing the gun back to JJ.

She looked at him and took the gun carefully before putting it into her bag. “Thank you for this and the help. We really appreciate it, we haven’t had the best luck with the living.”

Aaron shook Rick’s hand and thanked him as well.

He nodded, returning the gesture. “Just stay safe out there and stick together.” He said and looked over at Jocelynn. “We should head back.”

She hesitated but nodded, looking at Jennifer and Aaron. “Good luck out there.” She said as she watched them get their bags together.

The five of them headed out of the diner and headed their separate ways. Jocelynn couldn’t help the nagging feeling she had that said to help them. Maybe their group would be a good addition, especially with FBI knowledge. The two groups made it a few yards away from each other before she looked up at Rick.

“Maybe we can take them in.” she said, almost too quickly to be understood.

He looked at her, his brows knitted together. “You come on a run and think that the first two strangers you see would be a good fit? We don’t know how many of them are out there.”

“There are four of them. They’ve got the skills and the knowledge of FBI training, plus they had every opportunity to take us out and they didn’t. So yeah, I think they would be a good fit.” she said.

Michonne looked at the two of them and frowned. “Who knows if they’re telling the truth about that, Joce?”

“We don’t know them, we don’t know anything about their group, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Michonne’s right, they could have just been lying about their numbers.” Rick said.

“You didn’t know anything about me when Glenn found me and brought me to Alexandria. I could have been lying about where I came from, and what happened. I’ve got a good feeling about this, Rick, and if I’m wrong, then I’ll deal with the consequences.” she said, not used to stepping up to him like this.

He looked at her for a moment before taking a deep breath. “We don’t know anything about their group.” He repeated.

She looked at him and shrugged. “Well then maybe, we can go back with them and find out who else is with them.” She suggested. “We’ll tell them that we’re making sure they get back alright.”

He clenched his jaw as he processed her suggestion. After a moment of silence, he spoke up. “We’ll meet the rest of the group, and check them out, but I’m not making any promises about taking them back with us.”

“All I’m asking is that you give them the same chance that Glenn gave me.” she said to him.

Blue eyes scanned over her features before he spoke again. “A chance.” He agreed.

She smiled and gave him a nod. “Thank you.” she said.

Rick, Michonne, and Jocelynn all headed towards Aaron and Jennifer, not really wanting to call them out and risk attracting walkers. When they caught up to them, Rick cleared his throat, causing Aaron and Jennifer to turn and look at them.

“We’d like to make sure you two get back to your camp safely.” Rick said to them.

Aaron looked at JJ and then at Rick, giving him a nod. “We’d appreciate that. Thank you all.” He said.

“The walkers are unpredictable, and herds can come out of nowhere. It’s better to have a bigger group with you.” Rick said as the five of them started to walk towards their camp.

“Walkers?” JJ said. “Is that what you call the undead ones?” she asked as they all walked.

Rick gave a nod. “That was the first word I heard to describe them, it just sort of stuck.”

“I guess it’s less of a mouthful than the undead ones.” she said with a small smile.

The five survivors continued their walk towards the house that the rest of Aaron’s group was in. They made small talk with each other, keeping their conversations a bit guarded with one another. Eventually, the conversation switched to directions and a few warnings of walkers that Michonne or Rick would take care of. Once they came upon the house, JJ spoke up.

“This is it. I’ll go in first and let Spence and Penelope know that we’ve got company.” She explained.

Rick nodded and stood out front with the others while JJ went inside for a moment. She poked her head out and waved them to come into the house. Rick went up first after Aaron, keeping Jocelynn between himself and Michonne. When they walked in, they saw the other two members of the group; a tall, lanky, young man and a shorter blonde woman with glasses. Both of them looked a little hesitant but seemed friendly enough.

“This is Rick, Michonne, and Jocelynn; they let us take what was at the diner and helped us get back.” Aaron explained. “This is Spencer Reid, and Penelope Garcia, they worked with us at the BAU.” He said, gesturing to the other members of the group.

Jocelynn and Michonne waved at Spencer and Penelope, earning waves and ‘hello’s’ from them.

Rick looked at the two new members and gave a nod. There really were only four of them, and they all seemed beaten down and tired. Jocelynn’s words rang through his mind about taking them back. Four more mouths to feed might be a bit tough, but four extra pairs of hands would help them. “How are you all on supplies?”

“We’re low; the pots will help us boil water, so we’ll have that, but we haven’t eaten much in weeks.” Aaron said. “We’ve been trying to find a good place to stay where we can get food and ammo, but we haven’t had much luck.”

Rick nodded and hesitated a moment before speaking up again. “How many walkers have you killed?” he asked.

The question came as a surprise to everyone, especially Jocelynn and Michonne. Whenever Rick broke out these three questions, it meant that he was considering taking someone back to Alexandria.

Aaron looked at Rick and gave a shrug. “Probably several hundred between the four of us, we’ve sort of lost count.”

The rest of them nodded in agreement, and Rick spoke again. “How many people have you killed?” he asked.

Aaron looked at Rick with narrowed eyes. “One.” Aaron said simply.

Rick looked at him and gave a nod. “Why?” he asked.

JJ looked at her hands and then looked up at Aaron before answering for him. “He and his friends were trying to take our supplies and had guns on one of our friends. There was no reasoning with them; he was going to take someone with him no matter what. Once he shot the leader, the others scattered.” David and Derek had taken out the others but they weren’t here to answer and JJ didn’t want to bring that up just yet.

Rick looked at her and then nodded, letting their answers rattle around in his brain a bit.

Jocelynn looked at him and then back at JJ before speaking up. “We’ve all had to do things that we wouldn’t normally do, make choices we wouldn’t normally make. It’s part of this new world. You’re all lucky that it only had to be one.” It probably wasn’t much comfort to them, but maybe it would help.

Rick looked at her and then at the other four. “We’ve got a place not too far from here. It’s guarded, it’s safe, and we’ve got food, water, supplies, everything. If you four are willing, we could take you back, get you patched up and fed, give you a place to sleep.” He said.

Jocelynn gave a small smile, glad that he was going to give these people a chance. They seemed like good people, and she hoped that her hunch was right.

Aaron nodded and looked at the others in his group before looking back at Rick. “That would be great. We really appreciate it, Rick. I know it’s not easy to trust new people but we’re grateful for the chance to prove ourselves.”

Rick nodded and looked over at Spencer and Penelope. “Are you two alright with that?”

They both nodded before Spencer spoke up. “It’ll be nice to sleep without keeping one eye open.”

Rick looked at JJ and nodded to her. “Jennifer?”

She smiled and nodded. “You had me at food, and please, call me JJ.” She said to him.

“Alright, well we’ll let you guys get packed up and then we can head out.” he said before heading out onto the porch with Michonne and Jocelynn.

Aaron, Spencer, Penelope and JJ all got their bags together, packing what little items they had. All of them were a bit suspicious of going with strangers, but if they wanted to harm them, they would have already. While they were all a bit cautious, they were also smart enough to know that they shouldn’t turn down such a great opportunity. None of them set off any profiler red flags either, so they knew there was a smaller chance of problems.

Jocelynn looked at Rick and smirked, leaning against the railing on the porch. “Thank you.” she said.

He looked up at her and shrugged. “For what?”

“Giving them a chance.” She said.

He nodded and looked out at the yard before looking back at her. “I can’t guarantee that the rest of the group will want to take them in, but we can at least keep them there for a couple days until they’re back on their feet.” He said softly.

She nodded and put her hands in her pockets. “I’ve got a good feeling about them.” She said simply.

He looked up at her and nodded with a small smile. “I hope you’re right.” He was glad that she was showing a bit more of a leader side to her, but he really did hope that she was right about this group.

After a moment of silence, the others joined them on the porch with their bags. The group of seven headed out and back towards Alexandria. Everyone had different things running through their minds on the quiet walk back, but the general feelings were nervousness and excitement. Jocelynn was glad to have some new people, and she was glad to help others. It also made her feel confident that Rick trusted her in making decisions like this. Maybe she could take up a bigger role in Alexandria after this. She convinced him to take them in, and maybe he could convince the rest of the group to take them in for good. Time could only tell, at this point.

#(my writing.)#(fic: we survive)#crossover fic #criminal minds au #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x ocf #aaron hotchner and ofc #rick grimes and ofc #rick grimes x ofc #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #walking dead fanfiction #walking dead fic

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