#anyways. hotchner in pt 1 and 2 coming soon

[tomcriuse]

Thomas Gibson as Aaron Hotchner Criminal Minds 2.01 'The Fisher King: Part 2'

[olivinesea]

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See, pt.3

Part 1 Part 2

a/n: Surprise! Next part’s here. A bit shorter but no less traumatic so don’t get comfortable. TW major character death, guns, suicide, violence, you’ve got the picture. I’ll do my best to get the final part to you in a timely manner. ~2k

The hits keep coming.

The street was quiet when he got there thirty minutes later. No ambulance or police with their colors flashing across the front of the house. He thought it was odd but it barely registered when everything in his life was a little off. He ran up to the front door and found it slightly ajar. He pushed it open cautiously, uncertain what he would be met with on the other side. It had grown dark, the sun replaced by much weaker street lamps. He felt around for the light switch, knowing he would regret this action.

He sucked in a breath when the shadows were lifted, every gruesome detail just as he remembered. The blood. There was so much blood. He reached up a hand to wipe it away from his eyes. He was numb, unable to look at anything but Morgan’s body, cold and lifeless on the floor. The scene replayed again, this time in Morgan’s entryway, the setting a little different, the results all the same. He had never been able to save them.

The thought of the others, the rest of his team who he’d watched get murdered hundreds of times, reminded him that JJ was there. She had called him, that was why he was here, not a case, not a killer. He wanted to call out for her but it felt wrong to raise his voice in such close proximity to this horror. Instead he carefully stepped around his friend, not looking for fear he would fall to his knees and try to force the life back where it belonged. If he could bring Derek back by returning every drop of blood to the emptied veins, he would spend eternity gathering what had been spilled. If only the world allowed for that kind of trade.

He made it around to the kitchen but found it empty, as were the other rooms on this floor. While he searched he called 911. He didn’t understand why they weren’t there yet, they should be there by now. When he questioned them, the dispatcher told him there’d been no reports made about that address. He quickly relayed the basic details, even more eager to find JJ and discover what had happened between her call and his arrival. He frowned as he hung up, confused. As a precaution, he pulled his gun from its holster, nerves lighting up. JJ wouldn’t have left surely. He crossed the hallway again, this time heading for the stairs. He didn’t know why, there was no reason for her to have gone up there. But there was no reason for any of this. So he climbed to the second floor, placing each footstep carefully on the polished hardwood.

He found her in the master bedroom, curled up on Derek’s king-sized bed, her back to him. The relief he felt upon seeing her dissipated quickly. Something about her form was too still. He approached, apprehensive but also hopeful that the room might dissolve around him at any moment. This had the same feeling as his nightmares, perhaps it was only that. He'd never hoped more that his mind was tricking him.

As soon as he touched her shoulder, he knew. Everything was wrong. The weight of his hand made her body fall back until she was face up, head resting on the pillows. Her blue eyes were open, blonde hair loose around her, some of it caught across her face. He brushed it back, feeling the chill of her skin, the precious warmth already fled. There was no blood but he spotted an empty pill bottle in her hand. His mind fought against what he was seeing, so far from the correct order of things. She had only called him half an hour ago. How was there even time for this to occur? He pulled the bottle from her hand and felt the world spin faster. He blinked, chasing away the errant lines crossing his vision but the words on the label remained the same. The block type informed him that it once held opioids prescribed to one Aaron Hotchner.

He couldn’t imagine how it had ended up here, couldn’t even remember when he had gotten the prescription. It could have been after any number of injuries. He never took more than one or two before his body reminded him how sick they made him feel. The pain relief was never worth the sweating weakness and nausea that accompanied it. He usually tried to decline when they were offered but somehow he regularly ended up with one or two bottles mixed in with his too large assortment of other medications. He worried about it, knowing Jack was getting older, getting taller, might become curious about such things. He knew it was irresponsible to have narcotics he was not keeping track of somewhere as accessible as his medicine cabinet. But he never imagined this would be the consequence of that uncharacteristic lapse in judgement.

He stared at the small orange bottle, dwarfed by his hand. He didn’t know what to do with this information, had no idea how to process its meaning. Stunned he backed out of the room, out of the house completely. Everything he found inside there was upside-down and he needed air. He stood on the porch, looking vacantly out at the street, gun in one hand, death in the other. He rubbed the bottle continuously with his thumb as the ambulance and cop cars began arriving. His thumb caught a little every time it met the edge of the lid, scraping his skin against it, trying to remember when he even got it. When it disappeared.

An officer approached, weapon drawn, demanding he identify himself, wary of the gun dangling from the large man’s fingers. With effort, Hotch focused his eyes on the stranger, distantly registered the man’s anxiety. He gave his name and slowly moved to pull out his credentials. Hotch tried to answer his questions but all he could remember was Morgan getting shot by Mr. Scratch. Or did he shoot him? His words veered into incoherence and the officer became alarmed. If he hadn’t seen the man’s badge, he’d have a hard time believing this was BAU Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner.

“Sir? Were you injured? I think you need to get checked by the medics,” he said. He took Hotch’s gun from him and steered him in the direction of the ambulance. Hotch didn’t mind him taking the gun, what good was it? His gun couldn’t protect him from the phantom tearing through his life, destroying everything that was good. He doubted a medic could help either.

Hotch was sitting on the bumper of an ambulance, continuing to ruminate when Dave arrived. The medic, after determining there was no physical injury to the man, left him there with instructions to stay put until someone came for him. Hotch hadn’t thought about who was listed as his emergency contact.

“Aaron! What happened?”

Hotch looked at him with wild eyes. He was terrified for Dave, certain now that this was the dream come true. Peter Lewis had gotten inside not only his mind but his life and was ripping the pieces apart slowly.

“Dave you can’t be here! You have to go,” he stood up and put his hands on Rossi’s chest, as if to push him away. Dave grabbed his wrists, eyebrows drawn together, confused by this reaction. Hotch curled his hands into fists and ducked his head. “Please,” he begged, “please Dave, it’s not safe.”

“Aaron, look at me.” Anticipating a bad reaction but doing it anyway, Rossi took hold of his face with both hands and forced the other man to meet his eyes. “What is going on?”

But Hotch was past reason by this point. The words he got out didn’t make sense to Rossi who only heard snippets about coffins and blood and Scratch—but that case was months ago, surely this was unrelated. He didn’t like to think that Hotch had been hiding something about that night for this long but he wouldn’t be surprised by it either. He thought about how Hotch’s confusion had lingered long after the doctors said the drugs’ effects should have worn off. How he had stopped asking for confirmation of details from that night yet he would occasionally lose focus, be half a step behind in conversation.

Rossi looked quickly over at the house, now swarming with officials, drawn to the crime scene like summer moths to lamps. He wasn’t needed here and Hotch very much needed to be somewhere else right now. Dave didn’t know what was happening in his friend’s mind but he knew the chaos of the scene around them wasn’t helping. He waved over an EMT to inform them he would be taking Agent Hotchner home, would ensure his safety. The medic gave no argument, there was nothing wrong with the man that they could see, only that he might be in some sort of shock over finding his colleague’s body. There was no reason for him to be their responsibility, they were happy enough to let someone else take over.

Rossi managed to lead Hotch back to the SUV, even more concerned by the fact that he didn’t resist being guided by a hand on his back. Didn’t try to shrug off the outward expression of concern. If Aaron was too distracted to notice physical contact, something was urgently wrong. Dave thought about this as he opened the door and gently pushed the other man into the passenger seat, giving non-committal responses to Hotch’s continued warnings that he needed to get away, that he needed to get everyone away.

“Put on your seatbelt,” he instructed after getting in himself and seeing it was still undone. Hotch stared at him blankly and he had to actually reach across and grab the restraint for him. Thought it bruised his heart, Dave ignored the way Aaron recoiled from his sudden nearness. He hated to see this side of Hotch, it reminded him how hard the man must work all the time to suppress his reactions, how much effort he went through to hide parts of himself he deemed unacceptable.

He straightened up and secured his own seatbelt before turning the key. He paused, not sure where to take them. Hotch was quiet now, seeming to be lost in the lights that danced across the front of Derek’s house. Dave decided to call Garcia, to update her and see if she had any updates for him. He had rushed from the office after receiving a call from a worried officer about one Agent Hotchner found disoriented at a crime scene. There had been little time to share details. Dave tried not to think about how he was using the term “crime scene” to describe Morgan’s home.

Rossi put his phone on speaker as he shifted into drive. He decided the first stop should be to Aaron’s apartment to check on Jack and see if he could get the man to calm down enough to make some sense. As soon as Garcia answered, he regretted calling her. She was in a panic, news of what had been found had reached her. Normally able to work, even through big emotions, this was all too much for Penelope. She was nearly as incoherent as Hotch was when he’d found him.

“Okay, okay, listen Penelope. I’ve got Hotch, I’m taking him home. Why don’t you call Emily? She’s supposed to have landed by now I think,” Dave was trying his best to stay patient. Honestly, he didn’t know what any of them should do but this manageable instruction seemed to calm Garcia a little.

She sniffled. “Emily, right, of course. I’ll call her right now, sir.”

“Great, thank you Penelope. Let’s just try to stay focused on getting everyone safe. I’ll call you when we get to Hotch’s place.”

“H-how is he? How are you?”

Dave looked over at Hotch who was still quietly brooding. Rossi could almost hear Hotch’s thoughts racing, trying to find a way to get ahead of whatever was happening. It was actually encouraging, he seemed more lucid than before. Dave opened his mouth to tell Garcia everything with them was alright for the moment. But that was the moment a truck slammed into the driver’s side door, sending the SUV spinning wildly through the intersection.

~Part 4~

[literallyprentissstwin]

Here to Help! - pt.3

pt.1   pt.2   masterlist 

Characters: Spencer Reid, Y/N Y/L/N, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Michael (some douche bag who is a co-worker of the reader), Soraya (also a co-worker of reader and her best friend)

Warnings: angst, violence, sexual harassment

A/N: this is pt. 3 of my spencer series in which we learn a little about what is bothering Y/N. very mild angst and a slight describtion of the harassment. if you´r not comfortable reading it, then please don´t. it was kinda difficult to write. i sadly experienced it some time in my life, but it´s so hard to put it into words. as always, feedback is appreciated and ilysm. <3 

Summary: After a rather uneventful night, Spencer and Y/N go to work the next day. While Spencer is still worried about his girlfriend, Y/N has to fight of her annoying co-worker who might not quite get what no means. 

After spending a rather uneventful evening and night together (because Y/N did not even make it halfway through the movie before falling asleep), they started in the new day together. On his way to the bureau, Reid dropped Y/N off at her working place, the place where they first met. Y/N works at a kindergarden which wasn´t actually that far away from the BAU. When the team once had worked a case of child kidnapping two years ago, they interrogated Y/N and her co-workers since the young girl used to go to this kindergarden. After solving the case, Spencer had gathered up all his courage to ask Y/N out on a date. And he had succeeded. 

“Have a great day, babe. Call me when you need me.”, Spencer said as he leaned over to his girlfriend and kisser her goodbye. 

“Thanks, Spence. Stay safe, okay? And tell the others I said hi!”, Y/N replied as she kissed him back before exiting the car and watching Reid speeding off. Y/N embraced herself for what was about to come before she entered the building.

“Good morning, pretty boy!”, Morgan greeted Spenccer as he quietly entered the bullpen and sat down at his desk. 

“Hey...”, the genius mumbled, still deep in thoughts. 

Prentiss and Morgan exchanged worried glances before they got up and walked towards him. 

“What´s going on in that mind of yours, Reid?”, Emily asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Huh?”, Spencer just replied.

“Come on, it´s us. Talk!”, Derek said, slowly pushing Spencer into talking. 

Reid sighed. “Okay...it´s about Y/N.”

“What is with her?”, JJ said as she joined the conversation. 

“I don´t know, that´s my problem.”, Reid basically yelled, slightly panicking.

“Woah, woah...Calm down, lover boy. What about starting at the beginning?”, Derek tried to calm the doctor down. 

Spencer hated to talk about his personal life, even when he wasn´t aware what was going on. But he needed to get it out or otherwise he would not be able to focus on work today. 

“When I came home after work yesterday, I found Y/N crying in our bed, all cuddled up, but still dressed in her workclothes. She must have been lying there ever since she came home from work, because her eyes were all red and puffy and she was literally starving. Anyway, I tried talking to her, but she totally blocked me off. So we went on to have dinner and decided to watch a movie afterwards. She told me that she needed to change her clothes. She locked herself into our room for several minutes. Y/N never does that. She, in general, is behaving really odd.”

“What do you mean?”, Prentiss wanted to know, a frown creeping up on her face. 

“She only wears long sleeved shirts and clothes which are too big for her and don´t fit her. She also got really thin and pale. I´m just so worried. I can´t think straight.”

“What did she say when you confronted her about these things?”, JJ asked. 

“She just got really nervous and said that she had a hard day at work and that she had some difficulties with a co-worker of her. But there needs to be more. Last night, when we watched the movie and she fell asleep, I saw a dark purple bruise looking out from under her shirt.”

“Do you think someone is actually harassing or hurting her?”, Derek dared to ask. 

Spencer shrugged with his shoulders and covered his face with his hands. 

“I don´t have a clue what could be going on. I mean we see so many terrible things daily. Maybe it´s all just in my mind and it´s nothing, but to be honest, I think something is really going on and it actually worries me a lot. Someone is clearly hurting her and she won´t talk to me about it or won´t ask for help. I did not want to push her into talking because it would have made things worse. I-I first thought that she might be cheating on me, but...”

“Come on, Y/N would never in her whole life do that to you and you know that.”, Emily protested. 

“Do you think it might help if someone of us would have a girls talk with her? Maybe she is more comfortable to talk about her struggles when a woman is around.”, JJ offered. 

“Maybe..I don´t know. I thought about talking to her boss or her co-workers at the kindergarden. Or the parents. Maybe they know anything or have noticed something suspicious.”

“We´re here for you, kid. We will help figuring things out.”, Morgan promised as he put a protective hand on Reid´s shoulder. The young doctor just nodded in agreement and thanked his friends. Just when he was about to say something, Hotch exited his office.

“We have a case!”

And with that, Reid needed to try and forget or push back his own problems at home to focus on other people´s problems. 

After Y/N entered the building, she headed straight for the break room where she put her bag and changed her shoes. Just when she was about to go and leave the room, someone came in and locked the door. She did not need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey darling.” Michael. Y/N cringed at the sound of his voice which cause her nightmares, but she slowly turned around to face him.

“I´m not your darling. Never was, never will be.”, she spat back at him which caused him to snap. He sprinted towards her and roughly grabbed her chin as he pressed her against the wall. 

“Fierce, I love that. So...did you enjoy our little date yesterday after work? Because I´m dying to repeat it soon...maybe we can stay together for a little longer than.”, Michael said as his hands went down Y/N´s body and stopped at her waist, which he carefully carressed. She flinched at his touch and turned away her face in disgust. 

“Look at me when I´m talking to you!”, he screamed as he forced her head back towards him. 

“And...did you tell Spencer about this? Our little secret? I hope not, because otherwise I have to do something about it.”, Michael threatened. 

“Leave my boyfriend alone, you sick bastard. You got me. Leave him out of it.”, Y/N snapped, suddenly being striked by a rush of confidence. 

Michaels hands kept roaming all over her body and he kept grinning at her when she tried to push him off of her, but he was too strong and the grip of his hands on her hips was too strong. Just as he was about to go further and started to adjust himself, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey..whoever it is who is inside and decided to have this room for himself..open up. There are others who want to get changed too.”, Y/N heard her best friend Soraya say. Her rescue. 

Michael smirked and slowly pushed back, putting a finger over his mouth, showing to Y/N to keep quiet, as he unlocked and opened the door. 

“Sorry, Soraya. Y/N and me had a really important talk.”, Michael said as he turned back around to Y/N, “we´re not done yet.”

And with this, the man was out of the door. Soraya eyed her best friend, getting worried at her fragile and scared state. 

“Hey, you okay? Shall I call Spencer?”, she asked as Y/N snapped.

“No...no, it´s okay.”

“You don´t seem okay. Did Michael do...”, she started but got interrupted by an angry Y/N. 

“No, why can´t you all just back off and leave me alone? I´m fine, really. If you´ll excuse me now, the kids are about to arrive.”

And with that, Y/N rushed out of the room, leaving a perplexed Soraya behind, who made a mental note to herself to keep watching her friend because something was going on. Y/N wasn´t herself. She quickly changed and rushed out of the room, ready to start the day.

A/N: next part will be up tmrw probably and it will be more about michael and his relationship to y/n.

Criminal Minds Tag List:

@imagicana @marvelfanlife @illegalcerebral @milkandcookies528 @liz-a-22 @sunreid​ @reidoneshots​ @rachficrecs​

Spencer Tag List:

@littledizzyhurricane @lookingforgalifrey @curlyreid

[olivinesea]

Off Souls, pt. 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

a/n: As promised. I truly don’t know what I’m doing you guys, so wish me luck and I hope you enjoy it. I’m having fun in any case. ~3.6k

Hotch makes a mistake.

Back out in the world everything seemed sweeter. It was nearly spring and the trees had started to blossom. Both of them felt an almost frantic sense of optimism. Emily, giddy and still a little lightheaded, walked close to Hotch as they made their way back to campus. They made plans for the rest of the afternoon: they would camp out in Hotch’s common room watching Planet Earth (a compromise—Hotch vetoed Saw but Emily insisted she needed to see some sort of carnage and flat out refused to entertain any suggestions involving cartoons), they’d order pizza and Hotch promised to make “the special hot chocolate” that just involved mixing the packet with milk instead of water.

They had just gotten back onto campus and were turning to take the route to their dorm. Intensely bickering over pizza toppings, they didn’t notice the man step into their path.

“Emily?”

She stopped short, immediately recognizing the voice. Hotch stopped next to her, alert. He looked between Emily’s stunned expression and the stranger in front of them.

“Hello there,” the man’s voice was friendly. “It’s been a while.”

Emily didn’t say anything but couldn’t look away either. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. She tried to think of a way out of this, anything to get them out of this moment.

“Do I know you?” Hotch asked the man, not liking the way he had moved in so close.

He turned his cold eyes to Hotch for a moment and smirked, turning back to Emily. “What? Too embarrassed to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Emily’s mouth opened and closed, not managing to create any sound.

“We’re not—“ Hotch stopped and looked at Emily again. He could feel her shaking, her fear unmistakable. He snapped his eyes back to the other man, who looked at him indifferently.

“No? She can be a little difficult.” He smiled viciously at Emily. “Although, maybe you’re just not her type.” He casually reached forward to run a finger down the curve of her cheek. He didn’t make it halfway to her jaw before Hotch swung at him. He stumbled backward, surprised. He glanced at Emily, who hadn’t moved, and looked back at Hotch who was pale with fury.

“I wouldn’t,” the man said mildly. “She isn’t worth it, believe me.”

Hotch was on top of him in less than a breath. The second hit knocked him down entirely, his head hit the ground so hard it recoiled. The man fought back, throwing his fists wildly, catching Hotch across the cheekbone. It didn’t slow him down. Hotch was bigger and far, far angrier. All the rage he’d been holding back easily broke through any rational thought. He knelt across the other man’s chest and swung at him relentlessly. He was completely unaware of the way people started to gather around them, of the way the other man grew more and more still, no longer struggling against him. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see past the brightness of his hatred.

There was a tug on his shoulder as he pulled his arm back to slam his fist into the other man’s face again. His elbow connected with something soft. He turned to see Emily doubled over and gasping. She clutched at her abdomen, trying to catch her breath. Abruptly aware of the rest of the world, he looked around at the horrified faces of the crowd. He looked down at his hands, knuckles split and covered in blood. He gagged, close to throwing up at the smell, so sharp and familiar. He scrambled up and put a hand on Emily’s back. He bent over to try to see her face. She was breathing okay again but still squeezing tightly around her middle. He could see that she was close to tears.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

His heart broke. He spent years and years trying to change, trying to get away from this. Still, here he is again, losing control and hurting the only person he cared about. For what? He sent a nervous glance to the body on the ground, horribly still. This wouldn’t fix anything. It had been selfish. He had realized exactly who the man was and instead of thinking, he let his temper snap. And now Emily was hurt. He had hurt her. His thoughts were racing now, all the functionality he had lost to single-minded revenge returned. He knew he should stay, should make sure the other man got help and own up to his crime. But he needed to get Emily home safely first. That had been the original plan and he clung to the shredded remains of it like it might save him somehow.

“Come on,” he said as gently as he could, “let’s get back.”

She nodded and managed to stand mostly upright. She deliberately did not look at Hotch’s hands or the destruction he’d caused. Her mind was having a hard time grasping a complete thought.

She had been frightened by the way his face had hardened, all evidence of the person she knew replaced with a stony ruthlessness. She grew more worried as his strikes took on an almost rhythmic quality, like he wasn’t aware of the harm he was causing anymore. That was when she was able to break out of her immobility, to call his name and, when that hadn’t worked, try to grab hold of him, physically hold him back. That hadn’t worked well for her either. What had been a hardly noticeable dull ache in her abdomen had become sharp and painful. The first violent stab had taken her breath away. She leaned over, hoping that by applying pressure she could get the muscles to calm down, to stop trying to rip her apart from the inside out. It wasn’t really working.

At least Hotch was back with her, his sanity returned. He was hovering over her nervously, unsure how to help, mortified that he had caused this. She let him guide her through the thickening crowd. Some people were on their phones, some people were talking quietly to each other, no one tried to stop them. He might not be overcome with fury at the moment but they had all seen what he could do, how he had transformed. They might whisper that it was wrong of him to leave and embellish their stories later, claiming they had tried to confront him, but no one was going to step in Aaron Hotchner’s path right then.

They made it back to the dorm without further incident. The ride up the elevator silent and thankfully empty. When they got to their floor, he hesitated.

“Do you still want to come to my room?”

She shook her head. “I think I just need to lie down for a bit,” she said through clenched teeth. It was taking everything she had not to collapse onto the floor.

He did his best not to show his disappointment. He reminded himself that this was about her and not what he wanted. He would have done better to remember that earlier as well. He knew he would pay for that one way or another but he wanted to make sure she was okay. She was all that mattered. So he led her to her room and helped her take off her shoes. He found some water for her to take the pain medication with and made sure to refill it. He shut her curtains even though the sun would be going down soon anyway.

She laid down on her side, hugging a pillow to her chest, eyes heavy. She appreciated what he was doing, trying to take care of her. But she really wished he would leave. There was too much in her mind and she needed to turn everything off for awhile. The pain in her stomach was severe and all she could focus on.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, trying to sound neutral.

“No, I’m okay.”

He nodded but wasn’t sure that she was telling the truth. Her face twisted in pain and she looked unnaturally pale.

“It’s okay Aaron, I promise. I’ll—I’ll call you later. When I wake up. I just…” her words were getting more and more stilted, her breaths shorter.

“Okay, you can call me if you need anything. I can bring you food later.” He found himself still unwilling to leave her.

She waved her hand at him and curled more tightly around the pillow.

He flipped off the light as he closed the door, followed out by a muffled “thank you.” Once she was out of sight, he understood why he had been so reluctant to leave. Without her to take care of, he had nothing to think about but the blood covering his hands and the terrible mistake he’d just made. He walked back to his room, unable to think about anything but the memory of the flashing anger compelling him to drive his fists into the other man’s face and chest, again and again.

He deserved it, a part of him reasoned as he rinsed his hands under the faucet. The warm water stung the places where his skin had split and his knuckles were swollen at the joints. He didn’t disagree with that. If Emily’s rapist was run over by a bus and then slowly eaten alive by vultures, he couldn’t see anything wrong with that. The man deserved no mercy. No, the problem was that he had lost control of himself. He had let the violence inside him get out and he hated himself for it. It proved his inability to escape the past he always tried to deny. Every day he tried to make different choices than his father but he was still wholly capable of the same kind of brutality he had been taught. No matter how much he worked to change it, inside him was something hard and dangerous.

He cleaned up his hands as best he could. The skin under his left eye was puffy and red where he had been hit. He pressed on it with his fingertips, frowning as the skin turned white under the pressure then filled back in bright red when he let go. It would turn into a dark bruise that would mark him as a fighter for weeks.

Unsure what to do with himself he tried to catch up on some classwork. He had been so focused on Emily he had let some things start to get away from him. After staring at his laptop for an hour though, he gave up. He tried texting her to see if she was up and wanting company but didn’t get a response.

He paced the hallways where he ran into another kid who lived on their floor. He thought maybe his name was Darren. Unable to avoid it, he stopped to chat. They exchanged some empty information about the day. Hotch hoped to extract himself quickly by being as bland as possible.

“Did you hear about the guy who got his ass beat out on the lawn?”

Hotch shrugged warily while the other guy stared openly at his cheek.

“They say the guy who did it just walked away like nothing happened.”

Hotch still didn’t respond, increasingly self-conscious.

“They’re looking for him. The guy he beat up is in the hospital, half dead. No doubt he’s gonna press charges once they figure out who did it.”

“That’s, uh, that’s pretty wild.” He knew this lie wasn’t going to last long but he hadn’t figured out what he was going to do yet. He needed more time. He needed to make sure Emily was okay before anything happened to him.

“Most excitement we’ve had all year.”

Hotch made a non-committal sound, trying to think of a polite way to end this conversation. “Sorry, I really have to go. My friend is sick and I need to check on her.”

Maybe-Darren waved him off, unconcerned. The guy was odd and if he wasn’t so quiet, so studious, it would be easy to believe he was the culprit. He always looked angry and rarely spoke to anyone besides the loud girl he hung around with. Maybe-Darren considered it for a brief moment as he walked to the elevators. If the Hotch kid was the other fighter, he certainly did not see any reason to get involved. You never knew when a guy like that was going to snap (or snap again) and he liked his face the way it was.

Hotch retreated to his common area. Too anxious to be in his room but too nervous to go outside and potentially run into someone who could identify him. He knew it was only a matter of time before a decision was made for him regarding the attack. There wasn’t much hope of him coming out of that in a good position. He knew he deserved whatever he had coming to him but he still felt regretful about Emily. They had only just mended their relationship and now he was probably going to have to leave her on her own again. He hoped she would forgive him.

Thinking about her, he checked his phone again but no messages had come through. He sighed, frustrated at his ineffectualness. There had to be something better he could be doing. Suddenly he remembered the heating pad he had stored under his sweaters. He’d been attached to that thing growing up; the only comfort he could ever count on. Since coming to school he had felt a little embarrassed pulling it out in front of the other guys in his dorm. So it had lived in his drawer untouched for awhile. He was sure it would be useful to Emily, even if she didn’t want him there he could do this for her. He pulled it out and headed towards her end of the building.

The floor was quiet, most people out at dinner or still studying. When he got to her dorm, he found the door ajar and the lights on. He knocked lightly before pushing it open only to be faced with an empty bed. He turned slowly to look around the girls’ common area, as if she might be hiding behind some piece of furniture. He pulled out his phone and tried to call her but he could hear her phone buzzing amidst the blankets on her bed. He dug around and found it, seeing that all of his messages that afternoon had been left unopened. Concerned now, he dropped phone and heating pad on the unmade bed and left the room to look for her.

As he passed the bathroom he heard the shower running. He wavered for a moment— prominent among the strict rules he followed was one prohibiting him from entering the women’s restroom. His worry outweighed his propriety and he pushed the door open slightly.

“Emily?” he called. “You in there?”

There was no response besides the sound of running water and steam escaping through the opened door.

“I’m gonna come in there for a second. Just tell me if you want me to stay out.”

Still no response. He felt his heart picking up speed, dire scenarios starting to flash through his mind.

The curtain was pulled across the last shower stall, water pooling slightly beneath it.

“Emily?” he called again. He heard a sniffle. “Hey, are you okay?”

After a long pause he finally got a response.

“I’m fine.”

He could hear from the shake in her voice she was anything but fine.

“I’m worried about you, Em.” He closed his eyes, trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. “Please, let me help. What can I do?”

This was met with more silence.

He had just opened his mouth to try to convince her to come out when thin fingers appeared near the bottom of the curtain. They pulled it open slightly and he could see her, thankfully still clothed in shorts and a tank top, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, one arm wrapped tightly around them. Her hair hung around her face in dripping chunks and her eyes were tired.

“Sit with me?”

He looked at her doubtfully. “How about you get out first?” he countered. “I brought—“

“Please? I just want to stay here a little longer.”

He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up. He thought about all the reasons he did not want to sit in a shower in a women’s restroom. But he couldn’t say no. He sighed as he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head.

“I’m not getting naked.”

“What a shame,” she said dryly.

He blushed as he undid his pants. He still couldn’t figure out how she was so nonchalant about undressing. But he powered through the discomfort and took a deep breath before stepping into the shower.

She had edged over to make room for him. He slid down the wall, folding his long legs in to fit the space. Once the initial distaste of being unexpectedly wet wore off, he could see how this could be soothing. She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He tilted his head back so water wouldn’t drip into his eyes and mouth. They sat like that quietly for several minutes.

“You scared me,” she admitted, tracing his injured hand with her finger.

“I know. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“I wish I could have done it myself.”

He paused, unsure how to respond. “It was wrong of me.”

“He deserved it. I was thinking about how happy I would be if he died.” Then, “Do you think that makes me a bad person?”

“No. Thinking things doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“But you think you’re a bad person.” Her statement, so simple, drove right into his heart and made his breath catch.

“Well, I’ve done bad things, so, that’s…that’s how that works.” She tucked her head against his shoulder. “Is it bad if you were protecting someone else?”

“It was more than that,” he said, refusing to let himself off the hook.

She sighed. “I don’t think you’re bad. I think you made a mistake. Mistakes don’t make you a bad person either.”

He didn’t say anything to this and they sat in silence again. The water ran down their bare legs and collected around their feet. He could feel the temperature starting to cool and goosebumps began to form on his arms.

“Can we get out now?”

She ignored him for a moment, staring at her toes, lost in thought. He shifted and she looked over at him. Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek before rolling up to her feet and turning off the water. He was a little dazed by the action and was slower to stand. She briskly opened the curtain and stepped out of the shower, unfazed by the wet clothes clinging to her. She stripped before toweling off and, deeply embarrassed, he stared hard at the floor while he shivered.

“Here,” was all the warning she gave before launching the towel at him. He barely caught it before it fell on the wet ground. His eyes went wide when he realized she had nothing on now and was relieved when she walked out of the bathroom. He dried off as best he could and got dressed before following her to her room. When he got there she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, holding up the heating pad gingerly.

“It’s a heating pad,” he sounded defensive.

“I know what it is. Why do you have one?”

He shrugged. “It comes in handy.”

“Hmm. Ok.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I can take it back to my room.”

“No, no. It’s mine now. You brought it to me.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They smiled at each other and he thought about how fucking lucky he was.

“Want to watch something?”

“Sure, whatever you want.” He regretted it immediately.

She grinned. “Whatever I want?”

“Please don’t pick something that’s going to give me nightmares,” he groaned.

She looked wicked as she patted the bed next to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

He climbed into the narrow bed as she pulled out her laptop and started discussing possibilities. He didn’t really listen, he wasn’t planning on paying attention anyway. The shower was more relaxing that he could have hoped and he found himself thoroughly exhausted by the day. He hummed in agreement whenever it seemed like she was waiting for input and finally she pulled something up. He was asleep before they made it ten minutes into the movie.

He didn’t wake up until much later. She’d fallen asleep too, the closed laptop had slid down between her and the wall. He could feel the warmth from the heating pad wrapped around her middle and smiled. He found his phone to check the time and saw it was already 5:30 am. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept for that long. He yawned as he slid out of the bed, careful not to wake Emily. He carried his shoes in his hand as he walked down the hall back to his room. He was startled to find several people in uniform occupying his common room. They all turned to look at him when he walked in.

“Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes?” Any lingering sleepiness vanished and part of him was tempted to turn and run. Run back to the warmth he had just left, hide beneath that soft sea of blankets indefinitely.

“We’ve been looking for you.”

~Part 5~