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cognitiveoverload · 9 days ago

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Chasing ghosts - p1 (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: When a woman from Hotch's past shows up with a new case, he makes it his mission to catch the killer.

tags: fem!reader, age gap (8 yrs)

note: Takes place in 1998. Rossi only retires in this year.

masterlist

Detectives show up every now and then, it’s nothing new, but you are different. You are familiar. Hotch’s brain kicks into overdrive as he’s trying to figure out where he has seen you before. Was it an earlier case? No, no, he can tell you look older now than you were then. When he sees no one’s really interested in figuring out who you’re looking for, he puts down his pen and rolls back the chair to head in your direction.

Two steps and an exchanged glance later he comes to a sudden halt as realization hits him. Of course. The main witness in the Peter Blake case from his time as a prosecutor. The last time he met you, you were studying law, but now here you were with a badge on your side.

“Agent Hotchner,” you say when you start to walk toward him, meeting him halfway. “I don’t know if you remember me, but—”

He can’t help but smile as he extends his hand in your way. “I remember, but the last time I saw you, you didn’t seem to be on your way to become a detective,” he tells you, and even though he wants to go on, he instinctively wants to profile you, his thoughts trail off for a second when he feels your small hand in his.

“It felt to be the right move to make. Look, I’m sorry to disturb you here, but a colleague of mine worked with your team and told me a lot about you, that’s how I knew where to find you. I need your help with a case,” you begin.

“Look, if you want the BAU’s help, we need to be contacted by your boss, we can’t just pick up cases like that.”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, it has nothing to do with your team. I need your help. Well, rather your opinion. Can we talk somewhere private?” you ask as you hold up the case file you have in your hand.

Nodding, he puts his hand on the small of your back as he leads you to the conference room that’s supposed to be empty now. Back in the day, he always had this strong feeling that he had to protect you, and now that you are here, it’s back with full force. You are only eight years younger, it isn’t that much of a difference, but he still can’t shake this feeling off.

Once inside, he closes the door and sits next to you at the table, watching as you open the dossier and put the crime scene photos in order. His eyes begin to scan the report before you can say anything, and the more he reads, the more he understands. You probably notice, because you don’t speak up, you let him learn the basics on his own.

It’s all too familiar. He saw his method before, he was the one who sent that man to prison, and this is why he knows it isn’t just any case. It’s personal for you. It hits too close to home. “Blake’s still in prison,” he mutters as he takes a better look at one of the photos.

“So it’s not just my imagination?” you ask, and he can hear the relief in your voice.

He turns to you and finally notices just how exhausted you look. The dark circles under your eyes, the fatigue, they are all clear signs that this case hasn’t let you sleep last night. Shaking his head slightly, he moves his hand an inch toward you, as if he’s about to cover your hand with his in a sympathetic way, but then he stops himself, and he doesn’t really know why. Touching you seems like a big deal, even though it shouldn’t be.

Back in the day, especially around the end of the trial, he often thought about you, even when you weren’t around him. He checked in every now and then, just to see how you were, if you could handle your studies and the trial at the same time, and these conversations sometimes moved to quite a personal territory. By the time he had to say goodbye, he knew more about you than he knew about some of his closest friends. Did it mean something? No, because even though you were almost twenty by the time the trial ended, he knew you were off-limits.

But now?

No, he shouldn’t think about that.

So, he lets out a sigh as he points at one of the photos. “These details were never made public. Sure, we showed the photos during the trial, but we never pointed out that these seemed to be important,” he explains, his brown eyes desperately searching for contact with yours.

“If it’s the same killer, then we sent the wrong man to prison,” you note quietly.

“You mean I sent the wrong person to prison,” he corrects you. “He wore a mask every time you saw him, you didn’t know for sure. We based everything on the evidence that pointed to him. Look, it bugs me as much as it bugs you, so go back to the station, ask your boss to send us an official request for assistance, and meanwhile I’ll talk to my boss and ask for their help. Hopefully, they will agree.”

You nod, but your silence speaks volumes. There’s something on your mind, something that clearly brought back sad memories. “If the killer follows the original murder, there’s a chance the girl is still alive. The police found me four days after I was abducted, and we don’t know how much longer he would have kept me there before killing me,” you say, your voice slightly breaking at the end.

Hotch nods as he collects the photos and sheets to put them into the dossier. “This is why we need to hurry. Can I keep this?” he asks as he holds up the case file. When you nod, he takes a business card from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to you. “Call me after you talk to your boss so we can discuss what I managed to accomplish here.”

“Alright. And thank you,” you tell him, a small, hopeful smile creeping on your lips.

While he escorts you out to the elevator, he can’t help but think about what to say, how to break the silence between you. Not because it’s awkward, more because he wants to know more about how you feel about this. It doesn’t take a genuine to see you’re not well, not even close. After all the things you went through back then, seeing another girl being abducted by someone who follows the same pattern must bring back memories you buried deep in the back of your mind.

The elevator arrives, and you flash a friendly smile at him before moving your feet to get inside, but Hotch doesn’t feel like letting you leave just yet. He has to say something, anything that could make you feel better, just like he always said something supportive during the trial. When he wraps his fingers around your wrist to gently pull you back, you give him a confused look.

“Are you sure about this? Shouldn’t you give the case to someone else?” he wonders out loud, watching your face so he wouldn’t miss your reaction.

You inhale deeply, your gaze turning to follow something behind him. That tells him something important you would probably never admit to him. You’re scared. You must be terrified that it’s the same killer, and if it is, who knows when he’ll come after you to finish what he started years ago. But you don’t take it into account that the killer might have a preference for younger girls, in which case you’re safe.

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him with a forced smile, then quickly slip inside the elevator before the doors could close.

Shaking his head, he turns around and begins to move through the bullpen, heading to Rossi’s office to tell him about this case. In his mind, he goes through the pitch, all the important points that could hopefully convince him, rehearsing each sentence with extra care. He needs his boss to say yes, but if he says no, he’ll have no choice but to help you unofficially.

This was the last big case he worked on as a prosecutor, so you aren’t the only one who finds this new case personal. He wants to find out if he made a mistake back then, if the man behind bars is innocent when it comes to this murder. No one likes to make a mistake, but he’s extremely strict with himself, he doesn’t like the idea of being the one in this situation.

When he stops in front of the office, he takes a deep breath and knocks, which is soon followed by his boss’ invitation. “Do you have a minute?” When Rossi nods, he closes the door then goes closer to hand him the case file. “There’s a case. They haven’t officially requested our assistance, but it will probably arrive soon. The victims are Hank and Kelly Roberts, they were murdered last night, while their sixteen years old daughter was kidnapped.”

“They want us to help find the girl?” Rossi asks as he looks up from the dossier for a moment.

He nods, but then lets out a sigh while putting a hand on the back of his neck to calm his nerves. “That too. But the thing is, in 1989 there was a murder that happened exactly like this one. There are details that were never made public, and weren’t highlighted during the trial, but they can be found in this case too.”

Rossi leans back and taps his fingertips on the table. “What is it you’re not telling me, Hotch?” he asks.

“I was the prosecutor in that case, and the homicide detective working on this one was the victims’ daughter the killer kidnapped.” There’s a barely visible smile on the other man’s face as he watches him, and he knows what it means. “Look, we just don’t understand how the killer in this case could know those details. If it’s the same murderer, then I sent the wrong man to prison.”

“Have you checked if there were similar cases before that?”

“She’s working on it, but… Well,” Hotch says, hinting at the obvious.

His boss lets out a thoughtful hum. “We could help her get the information she needs. Alright, the moment the request arrives, I’ll gather the team. You’ll help with the briefing,” he tells him.

Hotch can’t hide the small smile that creeps on his lips. “Thank you, Rossi.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #chasing ghosts

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