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anightflower · 4 years ago

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Come and Find Me Chapter 4: The Andrew Curtis Case

Guys I am so sorry this took so long. On top of school kicking my ass, I had to rewrite and reedit this chapter several times until I got to one that I deemed worthy. I am going to try and post Chapter Five early for you guys if I can.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Rape, Abuse

Masterlist

Spencer glanced around the room at all the police officers assembled. He cleared his throat.

“The Unsub is a white male in his late 20s to mid-30s. He is a man with an average build and a friendly face, someone who women would not pose as a threat.”

“Since there were no signs of forced entry, we believe he’s posing as someone who women would let into their house. Classic cases of this include maintenance men there to check up on things, someone who needs help after their car broke down, or a similar case like that.” Emily explained. “This is a man who fakes confidence, but in reality views himself as inadequate in some way, he knows he can’t fight off another man, so he chooses women who live alone and are essentially defenseless.”

“Yet, he hates that they are successful enough to support themselves or that they have any sort of power.” Morgan chimed in.

“He clearly was cheated on or had some sort of marital issue that caused him to spiral into this spree. He is a sexual sadist projecting his partner onto the women he attacks, that’s why he chokes them, watching the life drain from their eyes sparks something in him and gives him a sense of power. That is also why he rapes his victims, he loves the idea that he is all powerful and they are helpless.” Hotch explained.

Spencer swallowed, “Comparing his last four victims it seems his type is 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/C/E).”

Which coincidentally looks like the love of my life. Spencer thought, repressing a shudder.

________________________________________________________________

Spencer starred in shock at the scene around him. He was just finishing up the geographical profile, when they had received a call about yet another body.

Her empty bulking eyes stared up at the ceiling, her body was beaten, cut, and bruised.

“Strangulation marks on her neck, multiple stab wounds and injuries, this looks like our unsub.” Emily resisted the urge to shudder.

“Man, whoever cheated on this guy, must have really broken him.” Morgan mused, looking around at the bloody scribblings on the wall.

Spencer knew that if they tested the blood on the wall, it would match the victims. He looked at the frames on the wall, trying to ignore the blood that seemed to coat everything. The victim had her diploma hung up and multiple pictures of her smiling with family or friends. Spencer stared hard at the name on the diploma; Adria Winston.

It scared Spencer how easily he could see you in this woman’s place. Injured, dying, pleading for him, for anyone to save you-

“Reid. Reid, are you alright?” Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, drawing him back to the present.

Spencer shook himself out of his dazed state. “Yeah, uh I just need to step out for a second.” He said, pushing past Morgan and making his way outside Adria’s house. He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, it was late, so you would most likely be asleep, but-

You picked up on the third ring. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Spencer bit back a smile at the sleepiness in your voice.

“Not really, but I just really needed to hear your voice. How is Ohio?” Spencer asked, trying to distract himself from what he just saw. You could tell, but you played along with it.

“Not too bad, whoever designed the Google lounge has nothing on me.” You joked.

“Well, we already knew that.” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe some of the cool stuff I found, I’m telling you if the employees complain about these amazing comfy chairs I got for their break room, I am totally coming back and stealing all 22 of them for my apartment.” You said enthusiastically. “They're perfect for reading in Spence, I’m telling you, you would love them.”

Spencer let out a little laugh, “I’m sure they are. We will have to see if we can find some, but I don’t think 22 will fit in either of our apartments.”

“I suppose you’re right” You sighed dramatically, but then took a more serious tone of voice. “Are you alright baby?”

Spencer’s chest tightened at your worried tone of voice. “There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, swallowing back tears. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.”

“Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood.

Spencer let out a small laugh and sniffled. “Trust me the team is going to love you. We will have to figure out when you can meet them, but I definitely want to wait until things settle down a bit here.”

There was silence on your end for a second. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.”

Spencer heart skipped a beat, as much as he wanted you safe and sound, he also needed to hold you in his arms to keep his sanity. But ultimately you were the one who should lead your life, not Spencer. “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.”

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.”

Spencer could have sworn his heart stopped. The two of you hadn’t said I love you yet. Part of him wished it was in person, but just hearing you say it, meant the world to him. “I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

So help him god, Spencer would catch whoever this unsub was and put him away, so you could come home to a safer city.

________________________________________________________________

“You know what strikes me as funny?” Emily asked, looking at the crime scene photos.

The room was silent, waiting to hear what she had to say.

“Each of these unsubs reported strange gifts and letters being sent to their home. The police had thought it was nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe this could be a connection. I mean think about it, didn’t you guys notice that each victim received a gift box wrapped the exact same way?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah they had the white box with the red bow-”

Spencer chimed in, “Red typically symbolizes love and infatuation, but in this case it was the unsub’s warning, red meant war or violence was about to come upon this victim.”

“Reid and JJ I want you to talk to the officers and get the reports these women filed for harassment, I think we are missing a connection.” Hotch ordered.

An hour or so later they had that connection.

“All of the victims received their gifts from a delivery service called ‘Special Delivery.’” JJ explained to everyone.

“Well it seems we have to pay them a visit.” Hotch said.

________________________________________________________________

Special Delivery was a small Ma and Pa store, located just a couple blocks from Ava’s coffee shop. Spencer debated on stopping in to check in with her and maybe grab the team coffee.

Spencer had quickly taken a liking to Ava, not only because he had called him your “sexy superhero boyfriend,” but because she was a reliable friend to you, one who always managed to bring a smile to your face. She reminded Spencer of a more wild Emily, in the best way possible.

Emily stopped outside the storefront window, glancing at the display of chocolates, gift baskets, and jewelry. “Why is it always the cute small places that get ruined? Can’t it be one of those big corporate offices that fuck over their employees instead?”

Spencer huffed a laugh.

As they entered the store, the bell let out a delicate twinkle. Causing a silver-streaked brunette to pop out from the back of the store. Her round face held a warm smile as she approached them.

“Hello dears! What can I do for you?” She asked as she excitedly clasped her hands together.

“Hello Mrs. Ellison, my name is SSA Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid, we had a few questions for you.” Emily said gently, flashing her badge to the woman.

The woman's smile dimmed a bit, “Oh, uh of course, is everything alright?”

“Mrs. Ellison I am sure you’ve heard of the recent tragedies-” Emily began,

“Oh yes, I’ve been keeping up with the news, it’s just dreadful that something so horrible could happen so close to home. You see these things in movies or in other places, but you just never expect them to happen right near you.” Mrs. Ellison said sorrowfully, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Mrs. Ellison, I am afraid everyone of these victims received several deliveries from your shop. Each was wrapped exactly the same, white box, red bow, does this ring any bells for you?” Spencer asked, cutting to the chase.

“Well dear, it is Valentine season, red, pink, and white are the typical go to colors.” She shrugged.

“Do you have any regulars? He would have each gift he bought wrapped the exact same way? He would seem friendly, but would be on the quieter side?” Emily asked, attempting to prod the older woman’s memory.

“I’m afraid none of that is ringing any bells dear, I am so sorry.” Mrs. Ellison said apologetically.

“Do you have any other employees? Or do you run this place all by yourself?” Spencer asked.

Mrs. Ellison, let out a small laugh, “Oh goodness me, no. I get so many orders, I could never do it by myself. I previously had three employees, Jess, Remy, and Andrew, but I had to fire Andrew when I found him stealing from our stock. It was a shame too, he was a hardworking boy, but I’m afraid he just fell apart after his wife left him.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a quick glance. “Do you happen to know why his wife left him?” Spencer asked, his heart picking up speed.

“Oh it's not my business to share-” Mrs. Ellison hesitated.

“Please Mrs. Ellison, this could be crucial information.” Emily urged her.

Mrs. Ellison let out a sigh. “That horrible girl cheated on him. I just couldn’t understand it either, Drew was such a doting gentleman to her, it simply didn’t make sense.”

“Do you still have his contact information? His address?”

“Why of course, but you couldn’t possibly think he has anything to do with this-” Mrs. Ellison began, making her way to behind the counter to grab a binder. She looked up worried when Spencer and Emily didn’t answer right away. “Do you?” She urged.

“It’s quite possible he had nothing to do with it, we just need to follow through with every angle.” Emily quickly explained.

“Of course.” Mrs. Ellison said, but her hands slightly shook as she opened up her binder to get Andrew’s address.

________________________________________________________________

“Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, open up.” Hotch hollered from outside the door. There was no response. Hotch looked to his team to make sure they were ready, then kicked in the door.

As the team checked different rooms, several calls of “Clear!” echoed throughout the house. Curtis was not there.

Morgan made his way to the basement and swallowed back a gag. “Hotch! You better come see this.”

Guns at the ready, Spencer, Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, made their way down to Morgan.

“What the hell.” Emily huffed as they all beheld the horrific sight before them.

It was a girl, for sure. She had the same mutilated marks as far as they could tell, but her body was decently decayed.

“He’s displaying her like a trophy.” Spencer observed. “He props her up naked and makes sure her wounds are fully on display to remind him what he did.”

“There’s more trophies over here.” Rossi said in disgust, gesturing to a shelf full of different valuables.

“He’s sick.” Morgan hissed.

“We need a med team down here to remove a body. As soon as it’s IDed we need to know and alert any next of kin.” Hotch ordered into his earpiece.

Rossi put on a glove and began to go through the other trophies for evidence. “I’ll talk to the victims families and see if any of them recognize these items.”

Morgan dialed up Garcia.

“Speak and be heard, the all-knowing goddess listens.”

“Hey baby girl, I need you to look up any missing person’s reports from around this area. The victim has (y/c/h) and (y/c/e). She fits our victimology to a t, but we need to figure out who she is.”

“I’m on it.” Garcia said.

“And Garcia,” Hotch said, stopping her before she hung up. “I need you to find a license plate for Andrew Curtis. Also check to see if he rents or owns any other property, he’s currently not at his home and it is too close to other buildings for his victims to not be heard.”

“You got it. Talk soon.” She said, hanging up.

About half an hour later Garcia got back to them. “Curtis drives a 2003 silver sedan with the license plate 637-IRT. I also found that he rents a small storage unit that’s a 20 minute drive in a more secluded part of town. I am sending the address to you guys now.”

“Thanks Garcia.” Hotch said. He turned to JJ “I need you to get an APB on Curtis. I want you to warn the public to keep an eye out for him.”

JJ nodded and rushed off with her phone. Hotch looked to the rest of the team. “Everyone else, vests on, we are heading to that storage unit.”

________________________________________________________________

“Fuck Drew, what are we going to do?” The boy asked as he looked at the screen projecting a news report on Andrew Curtis.

“Well, it might be the end for me, little brother, but I have you as my legacy. They don’t have a clue that you are even involved, so I need you to get out of here.”

“No, no, no. I am not going to leave you!” The Boy cried, tears streaming down his face.

Drew huffed a laugh. “Now, now, little bro. It isn’t the time for tears. I’ve taught you everything you need to know. You need to get your girl from that Doctor remember?”

“How am I supposed to do this without you?” The Boy asked, fear filled his voice.

“Your time will come. You have to be a man about this. You have the skills now and you have our little videos to watch. Your own little tutorial to pluck that girl right out of Dr. Reid’s hands. You need to hide those and hide them well. Promise me you won’t fuck up your chance.” Drew growled.

The Boy whimpered and Drew smacked him. “Promise me!” He yelled.

“I promise.” The Boy sobbed, grabbing at his pained cheek.

Drew’s face softened and he gave the boy a smile. “Good, now get out of here legacy and make me proud. I expect to see you on the news someday.” He winked. “You remember our code right?”

The boy nodded.

“Then this isn’t the last time we will speak to each other. Now get the fuck out of here, I already fucked with the security footage, so they won’t even know you were here.” Drew explained, pushing the boy out towards the parking lot.

The Boy’s heart broke as he rushed from his mentor, not only because he knew he would never be able to see Drew in person after this, but because he knew that he would never be able to ruin the 6th victim. The sixth whore that was tied up in the trunk of Drew’s car.

________________________________________________________________

The girl sobs were muffled by her gag. Drew pulled on her hair harder as he dragged her to the storage unit. He knew he didn’t have much time left, so he might as well let every moment count huh?

The girl’s sobs turned into terrified screams as she beheld the bloodied storage room and the various knives and devices within it.

“Shut up you stupid bitch.” He growled in her ear.

The girl whimpered something and Drew ripped away her gag.

“Please.” She begged and Drew simply laughed as he lugged her limp body towards the table in the center of the room.

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I have a family who cares about me-” She pleaded.

“Whores don’t have families. Whores have nothing. They just cheat and lie and move onto the next guy. Huh Madelyn?” He growled as he threw her up onto the table.

“My name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily-” The girl sobbed.

“Enough of your lies Madelyn. You stupid slut. You couldn’t stay loyal could you?” Drew snarled, hitting the girl’s head hard against the table.

She sobbed harder. “My name is Emily, my name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily.” She babbled.

“SHUT UP.” He said, hitting her again.

Suddenly a shout rose up from outside the storage unit door. “Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, come out with your hands raised.”

The smile that crept across Drew’s face was wicked. He grabbed a knife and pulled Emily against him. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He whispered in her ear.

“Andrew Curtis, this is your last warning. We will come in armed and ready.” Hotch’s voice shouted again.

Drew remained where he was, the sick smile on his face, as tears streamed down Emily’s face.

When the door burst open and several agents poured in, he did not flinch or cower away.

“Drop the weapon.” Hotch boomed, his voice echoing in the space.

“Now, now, now, where would the fun be in that?” Drew mocked.

“Put down the weapon, Curtis and let the girl go.” Rossi ordered.

Drew’s eyes looked past all of them and fell on Spencer, he bit back a smile.

“Come any closer and I’ll slice her throat.” Drew threatened, pressing the knife harder to Emily’s throat, a few drops of crimson blossomed and crept down her neck.

“If you don’t let Miss Bloise go, then we will be forced to take action Mr. Curtis.” Rossi explained.

Drew’s hand shook, god he wanted them to come at him, but then he thought of his mentee, how lost he would be without him.

He lowered the knife and let the girl go. She ran towards one of the agents, tears mixing with the blood that ran down her neck. JJ wrapped an arm around the girl and guided her out.

Morgan rushed to Curtis, pinning him down against the floor and putting cuffs around his wrists.

Though they had caught him, Hotch felt uneasy. Curtis had given in too quickly. The greasy smile across Curtis’s face as Morgan led him away only heightened his suspicions.

________________________________________________________________

The team sat outside the interrogation room, watching as Hotch tried to get a rise out of Andrew Curtis. He and JJ had gone in; Hotch to be the intimidator, JJ to be the trigger as she looked a bit similar to the victims. So far the man had just sat in the chair, his arms crossed, silent and smirking. It had been almost an hour and they had gotten nothing out of him.

Spencer felt as though Curtis could see him through the two-way mirror.

“You know Agent,” Curtis began. “I know you’re trying to be the big bad wolf, but it’s not going to work, I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

Morgan looked about ready to kick in the door and beat the confession out of Andrew.

“Send me in, I’ll get an answer out of him” Morgan growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Unfortunately, the confession won’t stand up in court if they found out you beat the shit out of Curtis to get it” Emily smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“The Court doesn’t have to know” Morgan argued, making Emily scoff.

“Focus kids.” Rossi ordered sternly, but Spencer could tell he was fighting back a small smile.

Hotch and JJ came out of the room. Hotch looked to Spencer, his expression grim. “He wants to talk with you.”

Spencer looked at Hotch confused, “Why me?”

“He’s ‘fascinated by you’” Hotch explained. “I know it’s not ideal and you don’t have to go in their Reid, but-”

“But, we could get the confession out of him. We have the charges for Miss Bloise, but we want to pin him for the other girls he attacked. I understand and I will do it.” Spencer said.

“I’ll stick with you Spence” JJ reassured, putting a hand on his arm. “You won’t be alone.”

Spencer nodded, sending a grateful look JJ’s way as they made their way into the interrogation room.

“Ah the elusive doctor. So glad you could join us.” Drew purred.

Spencer said nothing as he moved to sit down across from Curtis.

“-your wife left you Mr. Curtis, is that correct?” JJ asked.

“Please doll, a pretty thing like you can call me Drew” Drew said, looking JJ up and down.

Spencer’s fists clenched in anger as he felt JJ tense next to him.

“The file says she left you after she cheated on you. Did you have medical issues Mr. Curtis?” Reid asked, drawing Curtis’s attention to him. “Did you struggle to please your own wife?”

Curtis growled. “That stupid whore has nothing to do with this.”

“Ah so you couldn’t and when she left you for a man that could, you projected your anger for her onto these women. You were angry at them for being confident and independent, much like your wife who knew what she wanted.” Spencer said, sitting back in his chair with a faint smirk.

“These women were nothing but whores, willing to let men in like me. They wanted someone so badly they let a stranger into their house.” Curtis hissed.

“Mr. Curtis, you were a delivery man. They didn’t let you in, you forced your way into their homes didn’t you?”

“If a man needs a glass of water, can’t he let himself in?” Curtis purred. “They turned their backs on a predator and got what was coming to them.”

“Did you attack them in their homes?” JJ asked.

“Only to make them quiet, couldn’t have the neighbors hear them scream.” Curtis laughed and Spencer resisted the urge to choke out the man across from him.

They placed images of all of his supposed victim’s before him. “Do you recognize these women?” JJ asked, her voice harsh and cold.

Curtis looked over all of them, silent for a couple minutes. Spencer’s patience thinned. “Well?”

Curtis pointed to an image of Lila Jennings, the third victim of this case. “She screamed the loudest.” He pointed to another image. “She was a hot piece of ass, it was fun breaking her.”

“Enough.” Spencer hissed.

“In short Doctor, yes I do recognize these women. Every single one of them and no I do not regret a single one.”

Without saying another word, JJ and Spencer got up, taking the files with them. Curtis’s laughter rang out behind them as they shut the door.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #Come and Find Me #anightflowerwrites #anightflower writes

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undomesticatedbiologist · 1 year ago

Note

I actually really like jotch and I write for them sometimes. I know it’s not a popular ship (and don’t get me wrong, jemily always holds a special place in my heart), but I think Jotch actually works really well. I agree with the feeling that JJ is “down and to the side.” It feels less like she’s his direct subordinate and since they discuss and choose the cases often before the rest of the team, jotch kinda makes sense to me (tho this might be bc my favorite CM seasons are 1-5 so most of my thoughts are from their relationship during this time, when JJ wasn’t a profiler). They communicate a lot, and I think the match up of JJ, who is a lot more in touch with her emotions and willing to be open and vulnerable, with Hotch, who often represses his emotions and feels the need to be stoic for his team, is a good one. I think they balance each other out.

for the brutally honest ships: jotch and hotchniss

I can't find the post this ask meme is from, so I'm going to assume it's just for my honest opinion haha

Jotch: I think Jotch could have been canon for real. I think they even hint at it sometimes. There would be a really interesting power dynamic and Hotch having to reckon with the big age gap. I think JJ wouldn't let him push her away emotionally during cases, but she also struggles with being emotionally intimate in a relationship. It would probably start as a physical relationship and then a dangerous situation makes them realize it's more. I think JJ would still leave, but come back again after Emily and stay this time. Once she's a profiler, and she has more experience, she and Hotch would feel more like equals. She'd also understand his attachment to Haley during the Foyet arc and she'd really help him through it. I think he could actually be vulnerable with her and show her how much he values her.

Hotchniss: I love this ship, but not in canon lmao he knew her when she was like 21 and you don't come back from that lmao I also think Emily would get frustrated at how often he chooses the job over her, but she'd understand it and see it as another sign they aren't meant to be. Hotch would struggle with the dichotomy of needing her to obey him as a member of the team and giving her space to push back and speak for herself off duty. I also think she wouldn't be able to handle the image of her "sleeping with the boss" because she started as his subordinate (JJ is more like down and to the side)

Edit: I found the post! Tumblr just didn't refresh at all overnight rip

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years ago

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Fifteen

PART 1:

A/N: This is the first series I’m planning on writing. It should be about 17 parts in total when it’s done. The idea is based on one of my favorite books Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler! Seasons 6-9 Reid, and Maeve erasure. Also this gif is so perfect creds to the creator. Enjoy & I’d love any requests/feedback! :)

Tw: mention of vomiting

Word count: 1135

Spencer left Hotch’s office and paced past his own desk, mulling over what his boss had just told him. He told him that Y/N had transferred out of the BAU to head up the Seattle field office, effective immediately. His heart sank into his stomach. Was it really that bad between the two of you that you had to leave? Surely you couldn’t leave the whole team that easily, but you had. And you wanted to be as far away from him as possible, Hotch had basically said so himself. Everyone knew you had your pick of places to go; New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, even other units at Quantico. But you picked Seattle. Seattle. Which is 2,789.1 miles from Quantico. 2,789.1 miles from him.

You both knew it may come to this, but you were confident your relationship would work out. Hotch told the two of you what would happen if the romance went sour when you put in a relationship form three long years ago. He said he didn’t care, he hoped you guys were happy, but if it interfered with work someone would have to leave. Spencer never thought one of you would ever leave the other in any capacity. But maybe that was wishful thinking and his abandonment issues talking. He thought that even if your romantic relationship didn’t work, your friendship still would. But here he was, and you were gone.

He blinked away the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes, finally noticing the cardboard box on his desk. It was one of those boxes printer paper came in, with the lid and bright colors on the side. The lid said a few words in big black sharpie: TO SSA SPENCER REID

He smirked, you hated calling him doctor. You insisted that SSA was cooler than doctor anyways, and he should be proud of his achievements. “A lot of people are doctors, but not everyone is a Supervisory Special Agent.” He could practically hear you saying it now.

Without even thinking twice, he gingerly took the lid off and saw a stack of envelopes on the top which covered the rest of the box’s contents. The top envelope said ‘Spencer’ on the front in your very familiar handwriting. He held it in his hands like it was a piece of glass, so fragile, the same way he used to hold you. Immediately, he took a letter opener and sliced open the top, revealing a sheet of notebook paper. He took a deep breath and flopped into his desk chair, ignoring the questioning look Morgan gave him. He started reading page one. He knew he could finish the whole letter in a few minutes because he could read so damn fast, but instead, he went one word at a time, not wanting your last words to him to be over that quickly. He wanted to savor it. The first envelope addressed to him contained a letter that was short and rushed. You had just written it, the tear stains on the ink looked fresh and still wet.

“Spencer,

First and foremost, I’m sorry. I know Hotch just talked to you. I saw him take you in and used that as my opportunity to leave this here for you. In this box is everything from the last three years of our lives. I know you can read this whole thing in five minutes, Genius, but take it slow. Please, for me. And no this isn’t just a box of your tee shirts and gifts to me, this box holds so much more than that. What can I say? I’m sentimental. There’s a few rules though Spence, and I know you’ll follow them because you’re you:

1. Each letter is numbered corresponding with an item. When I mention something, take it out of the box and look at it, appreciate it, and remember it.(Even though I know you remember everything I ever said to you, Mr. Eidetic Memory) If I ask you to do something with it or drive somewhere, do that too. So maybe take the rest of today and tomorrow to go through it all.

2. Don’t start this in the bullpen. I know it’s tempting, but I don’t want Anderson and everyone else seeing what’s in here. It’s personal, for both of us.

3. Don’t reach out and don’t try to stop me. Seattle is far. I know, but I’m leaving. Don’t chase me, and don’t send Derek to chase me. We both deserve to move on.

I’m sorry Spencer. I am. I am so sorry. I hate to leave you like this, with a letter. Leave you just like Gideon. Just like your dad did. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for being exactly like everyone else who left you. But let’s be honest here, you left me a long time before I left you. I can’t do this in person, it hurts too much. It’s too raw. But, I need you to get the whole story from me. This is our love story and our breakup story told in 15 lucky items that mean the most to me us.

Oh, and one last rule:

Always remember that I love you and I mean it.

xo,

Y/N”

He read the same page over and over again, pouring over every word. He had to take deep breaths to avoid melting down in front of an office full of people. He looked around desperately for you. Maybe you hadn’t gotten in the elevator yet. Maybe you stuck around to see the kicked puppy look on his face when he opened the box. But you hadn’t, you were already gone. Just like you said you would be.

He read page 1 again. It was written in blue ink, which usually means the writer is sensitive, peaceful and enjoys order and organization.They are the helpers and the doers of the world. He silently scolded himself for trying to profile the letter, he already knew all of these things about you. He knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. Maybe the blue ink meant something or maybe it was just the pen you grabbed. He shoved the page back in the envelope and put the lid on the box. He didn’t want to peek and ruin the rest of the surprise. He was half excited and half terrified of what the rest of the letters would tell him.

Spencer avoided Derek and JJ’s concerned glances as he hurriedly packed his messenger back and grabbed the box. It was heavier than he expected. The items weren’t necessarily heavy, it was the feeling that was heavy. The feeling that everything from 1245 days of your lives were condensed into fifteen objects. 3.4 years; 1245 days; 1,792,800 minutes; 107,568,000 seconds into fifteen things. He suddenly felt like vomiting, but luckily he was already in the parking lot. He didn’t know how he got there so quickly, but his head was spinning and he emptied his stomach next to his car before getting in and driving home.

Part 2!

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid fic #fanfic #mgg fanfiction #fanfiction #reid #reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #cm #spencer reid smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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hotchley · 4 years ago

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the first christmas

please don’t judge the title or quaity of this, it’s 00:50 and i’ve not proofread it. we’re just going to go with it.

summary: it’s baby hotchner’s first christmas that he’s actually going to remember. it’s mostly pure fluff with like the smallest amount of angst, but the ending is happy and nobody dies or gets hurt so we’re classing it as a win. and fluffy.

trigger warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

read on ao3!

Christmas was fast-approaching, and they still weren’t ready. Initially, Dave had wanted everything to be perfect. Now… he just wanted everything to be ready before Aaron woke up. SSA Hotchner had taken a tumble into a river and emerged from it as an eight-year-old. Well, a sort of eight-year-old. He had memories of being an adult, but they were fuzzy at best. And his speech, the way he did things, and his size were that of an eight-year-old.

Jack seemed to be having the time of his life. Dave was just worried they were going to do something horrifically wrong. Like Christmas. Hotch never really opened up about his plans for the holiday season, and now, every time someone tried to get him to open up about what he wanted to do, he clammed up. Or he’d change the subject.

One time, Spencer had asked, and he’d run out the room before he could even finish the question.

They stopped trying to ask him after that. Jessica had no idea what his Christmas traditions had been growing up as her family had only moved when he was going into his senior year, and after him and Haley got married, she still never really knew what the two of them got up to. Jack had seemed uncomfortable when they asked him. After much prodding and gentle confirmation that there would be no judgement, no matter what he said, Emily managed to pry the information from him.

In the years between the divorce and Haley’s death, Christmas was spent with Haley and Jessica, with Aaron there but not really there because you could cut the tension with a knife. After she died, Hotch had always sent Jack to his grandparents for Christmas because then he could see his cousins and spend time with the family he rarely saw. Which meant Hotch usually spent Christmas as an adult alone and sad.

He couldn’t believe none of them had ever realised, but then JJ and Will would always go and see her mom. Spencer would go down to Las Vegas. Derek and Penelope would go to Chicago and then to visit her parents grave. Dave’s plans varied on who was in the area and Emily usually went as far from her family as was possible. But they had all at least had someone. Hotch had nobody.

Rossi suspected that was how he spent a lot of his childhood too. There was no other reason that he would be so small. Because Rossi remembered Jack and Henry when they were the age Hotch now was. They were both healthy and lively. Hotch seemed far too small and far too nervous for a child that was supposedly safe.

He shook his head and stared at the sight before him. The tree that he had gotten at the last minute was still bare because every time he tried to decorate it, something just wouldn’t look right. Garcia was going to come round with cookies and the rest of the team would also be arriving at various different times with assorted items. He knew that meant presents.

Garcia arrived thirty minutes early. When he opened the door to her, he was greeted by bags. Lots and lots of bags.

“Penelope, what have you done?”

She walked in with the two smallest and lightest bags. He sighed and picked up the rest, following her into the hallway as she toed off her shoes and hung up her coat.

“Well Hotch won’t open up about Christmas so we don’t know what traditions he remembers or did. Which means we need to do all of them. I have decorations, cookie ingredients, stockings, films, books and of course, everything you need for the perfect hot chocolate. And he may still believe in Santa so there are some carrots and mince pies.”

“Wait. Cookie ingredients? I thought you were going to bring them?”

Garcia didn’t respond. She’d walked into the living room whilst she had explained what was in the bags and Rossi suspected it was because she hadn’t heard him. He sighed and followed her in. She was staring at the tree.

“What is that?” she whispered, seemingly horrified.

“Look don’t judge me. I tried to decorate it. Multiple times. But every time, something just didn’t look right and I had to start over. I’m a perfectionist. Sue me.”

She turned and stared at him. “Rossi, I don’t know what planet you’ve been living on, but a Christmas tree isn’t supposed to look perfect. It’s supposed to be fun. And I know you want to surprise bossboy, but I think he should be involved. After all, he probably doesn’t remember a single Christmas fondly.”

Rossi realised she, as always, was right. “I guess I got so caught up in trying to get everything to be perfect for him that I forgot it was meant to be fun.”

“Would you look at that? He’s willing to admit when he’s wrong. Where is baby Hotchner at the moment?”

“Upstairs, napping. I don’t think he slept well last night. I also don’t think he likes being called baby Hotchner given that he’s not actually a baby.”

“Well what am I meant to call him? If I say Hotch, then it sounds like I’m referring to the big, mean to unsubs but sweet to the rest of us, federal agent. And Aaron just feels wrong.”

Rossi smiled at her antics. “Maybe. We’ll come up with a better nickname at some point. Do you want me to get him or will you be okay?”

“Oh I’ll get him! Kids that have just woken up are the cutest thing ever!”

Twenty minutes later, Garcia came down the stairs, her hand being held by Aaron.

He looked tiny, even for a child. His pyjamas, which consisted of a green dinosaur top and matching bottoms (only the bottoms had different dinosaurs all over it whilst the top was a single red one) seemed to swallow him up. His hair was falling in his face and incredibly floppy, only made worse by his recent waking up.

It was an adorable sight, watching him rub one eye to get the sleep out.

Dave crouched down, even as his knees winced. Aaron stared at him with wide eyes.

“How are you feeling little one?” he asked.

Aaron shrugged. “Miss Penny said that we were going to do something fun because of Christmas, so I guess I’m okay.”

It took Rossi a moment to understand what he was saying. He doubted any of them- aside from Will- would actually be able to understand his accent immediately for a long time.

“Yeah. We are going to decorate the Christmas tree that’s over there, and then we’re going to bake some cookies. Then, we can all sit on the couch, drinking hot chocolate and watch a film that you’ll get to pick. And after that, when it’s time to go to sleep, we’ll read a special Christmas story!” Garcia said, more excited than the actual kid.

Aaron turned to stare at her, a little disbelieving. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah baby Hotchner. Really.”

He still seemed suspicious. “No catch?”

Garcia’s smile faded and she sat beside him too. “No baby. No catches.”

Hotch regarded her for another moment then turned to Rossi. “Promise Mr David?”

Dave’s heart cracked a little. “I promise.”

“Okay. How do we decorate the tree?” he walked over on little legs to stare at it in awe, before moving onto the bags. He looked at Garcia for permission to look through and when she nodded, he smiled so brightly that Dave wanted to freeze the moment and live in it forever.

Garcia turned to Dave. “Rossi, I-”

“Don’t. Not now. He’s very perceptive. Aaron, we can decorate it however you want. You’re too small to put some of the stuff on, but if you tell us, we’ll do it for you. You can do the branches that are lower down.”

Aaron dropped the tinsel. “However I want?”

Garcia nodded. “It’s your tree.”

Aaron grinned and immediately started dragging all the decorations that he wanted to use towards the tree. Both adults got the hint and stood up, walked over to him and started talking about where the best place to put the various items was.

JJ and Derek came in halfway through the decorating process. Aaron froze momentarily, but when they both smiled and complimented the very hectic tree he relaxed and carried on like nothing had happened.

Morgan lifted him up so he could put the star on and Hotch let out a childish squeal that none of them were ever going to let him forget, and just like that, the tree was done. There was tinsel in all the colours of the rainbow draped over random branches, and baubles hanging off every available surface. The lights were wrapped around each section, going the opposite way to the tinsel and the star at the top was crooked. In Dave’s honest opinion, it looked horrific. But Aaron’s smile and pride in his creation made it beautiful.

When Spencer joined them, right before they started making the cookies, Aaron went into shy mode and hid behind Dave’s legs, peering out from behind him to see Spencer joking with Morgan and Penelope.

“Do you want to go and say hi to Mr Spence?” JJ asked gently.

Aaron shook his head. “Last time he was here, I ran away so I don’t think he wants to be my friend.”

JJ looked shocked. “Of course he wants to be your friend! He gets why you ran away, it’s okay darling. You don’t believe me? Okay. Hold my hand, and I’ll show you how much Spencer wants to be your friend. Come on, let’s go.”

He looked doubtful, but Hotch liked and trusted JJ so he stopped hiding and went over to where Spencer was.

“Hotch! Hi there!” Spencer greeted.

Hotch looked up at JJ who smiled encouragingly.

“Mr Spencer, are you angry at me for running away?” he asked.

Spencer frowned. “No. Of course not. I was a little bit upset, because I thought you didn’t like me, but now I get why you ran away and it’s okay. We’re still best friends forever right?”

Hotch nodded, face very serious. “Forever.”

“Well now that’s been established, lets make some cookies,” Derek said.

“You just want to eat mine,” Garcia scoffed.

“I’d rather eat something else of-”

Garcia hit him. “Not in front of baby Hotchner.”

“Miss Penny? When is Miss Emily going to be here?” he asked.

As if on cue, the door swung open to reveal her. “You really shouldn’t keep the spare key under your doormat. Anyone could just waltz in.”

Hotch threw himself into her arms and she stumbled back slightly. “Oh hello child.”

He looked up at her, cheeks slightly flushed. “Hello Miss Emmy. We’re going to make cookies.”

She smiled. “I love cookies. Do you?”

He nodded. “Miss Penny made some a week ago, but these are going to be special because they’re Christmas cookies. She decorated the tree as well, but I got to tell her what to do. Come and see it!” he said without breathing before dragging her to see it.

The others just shrugged, not willing to dampen his spirits.

“I love him as a kid,” Derek commented as they watched him explain the tree in extensive detail.

Baking cookies consisted of Garcia telling the others what to do and then doing it for them because they couldn’t do it right and Aaron giggling at all of them for being silly. His eyes lit up when Garcia gave him the bowls and a spoon before telling him to eat the cookie dough.

He watched the oven very intently. Reid sat beside him, and before anyone knew what was happening, Hotch was running over to them and asking if they wanted to hear what Dr Spencer- not Mr- had taught him.

Garcia let him decorate a whole batch. More icing ended up on his poor countertops and Aaron’s clothes than on the actual cookie, but if you didn’t look too closely, his reindeer and snowman actually looked like they were the things they were meant to be. And then Derek let him have two, which led to Spencer chasing him all over the mansion- not the house- to burn off the energy.

After several hours, they both collapsed on the couch. Aaron climbed into Garcia’s lap, eyes bright and cheeks red.

“I had so much fun Miss Penny!” he exclaimed.

“I’m so happy for you. Do you want a hot chocolate? We can put… marshmallows and cream and cinnamon in it,” she said.

He smiled. “Please Miss Penny.”

“Okay kiddo. One hot chocolate coming right up.”

He settled onto the couch, nestled in between Dave and Penelope when she came back and handed him the mug, full to the brim with cream and other assorted toppings that were definitely going to ruin his teeth.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever had,” he whispered to her, as though it was a very important secret.

“Even better than Mr David’s spaghetti?” she teased.

Aaron paled and seriously considered her question for a few moments before giving the slightest nod. Garcia squealed then went silent when Dave shot her a strange look. It was halfway through Nativity! that Aaron drifted off, the events of the day finally catching up to him.

Derek was the only one able to carry him up without waking him, so the moment they all realised he was indeed sleeping, they switched the film off. Whilst Derek took the sleeping Hotch to Dave’s guest room that they were going to redecorate as soon as possible, Emily grabbed the first book off the pile and followed. The rest stayed downstairs to wrap the presents that Garcia had left in her car, just in case.

Upstairs, Derek and Emily were watching Aaron sleep. Emily read him Stick Man, deciding it was the best story they could have picked.

“He’s so small,” she whispered.

“He shouldn’t be,” Derek said, switching Aaron’s nightlight on before stepping out the room, leaving the door slightly open.

Emily sighed. “Why are we so full of sadness on Christmas Eve?”

Derek wrapped an arm around her. “It’ll all be fine. There. Optimism.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him fondly. “Let’s just go help the others wrap, and by that I mean eat the mince pies meant for Santa.”

It was Derek’s turn to roll his eyes.

Dave woke Aaron up slightly later than normal, deeming the events of the previous night reason enough to let him sleep in.

“Merry Christmas little one,” Dave said.

“It’s Christmas?” Aaron said.

Dave nodded. “And I want you to come and see something. You don’t need to get dressed or anything like that. Actually, do you need to pee?”

Aaron nodded, so Dave let him go.

When he came back, Dave stood, ready to just go downstairs when he picked up on Aaron’s hesitance.

“What is it?”

Aaron stared at the carpet for a few moments.

“Little one, you can tell me.”

Aaron didn’t say anything but made grabby hands.

Dave smiled. “Of course.” He picked Aaron up, regretting it almost immediately but only setting him down when they were about to go into the living room.

“Close your eyes. I promise you it’s a good surprise.”

He only hesitated for a moment before complying and walking in, both hands covering his eyes that were almost certainly squeezed shut.

“Open your eyes,” he said, flicking the light on at the same moment that Aaron did.

“Merry Christmas baby Hotchner!” Garcia shouted.

The others chimed in with their own festive greetings.

Aaron seemed overwhelmed, so Spencer went and knelt beside him, explaining exactly what they were going to do, which calmed him down as he started smiling and seemed very excited for all the presents that were under the tree and addressed to him.

Hours later, when Aaron was resting his head on Spencer’s lap so his hair would be played with, Jessica and Jack arrived, having left her dad’s house early. They watched the scene play out from the doorway, smiling when Dave walked over. He nodded in acknowledgement, not wanting to disturb the scene they were all watching.

“He looks so relaxed,” Jack said.

“I still can’t get over how well you’re taking this,” Jessica admitted.

He shrugged. “I’m just trying to not think about it too much. If it means Dad is going to smile and have some better memories, then I’ll choose to focus on that instead.”

Dave smiled at that. They would worry about the cure later. For now, they would give Aaron some better memories.

When they were winding down for the day, Aaron went up to Dave and Penelope, Spencer holding his hand as the two of them were Best Friends Forever and had to do everything together- Aaron’s words.

“Mr David? Miss Penny?”

They paused in their washing/drying duties and turned to face him so he knew he had their full attention.

“Yes?” Penelope said.

“This was the best Christmas ever.”

Penelope scooped her into his arms, and when the others realised they were hugging a definitely touch-starved Aaron, they all came running over and in that moment, there was no evil or bad in the world because for the first time, child Aaron Hotchner felt completely and utterly safe.

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imagineaworlds · 4 years ago

Text

I Love You (Part Thirty-Four) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Death. Mentions of torture. Panic attack-- everything Criminal Minds.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 12919

Timeline: Season 5 Episode 09. A few days after part thirty-three.

Hotch put his hand on my knee to stop me from bouncing it at an annoying and distracting pace. I stopped and tried to relax, even though the rest of my body still felt like a goddamn Mexican Jumping Bean. Every inch of me was shaking as nerves ran through my veins. While bouncing my leg, I had been so lost in thought about what was about to happen that I didn’t even notice that it had upset Hotch. And despite the fact that I felt the urge to start the habit up again once his hand retreated from my thigh, I used every bit of self-restraint I had to refrain from doing so. Hotch was already upset, I didn’t need to add to that. I needed to be there for him, I needed to help him however he needed. He didn’t need me to be annoying or distracting. That was valid. So, I stopped.

The door to our left opened suddenly. Hotch and I both jumped to our feet, his hand finding mine and squeezing so tight I felt my knuckles touching. I winced, but still tried to squeeze back in order to comfort him and tell him: “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.” For the past few days, he needed to hear me say it every chance we could get. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.” And then he could breathe for a bit until he needed to hear it again. I knew that no matter what, I'd say it as many times as he needed to hear it, no matter how repetitive it got. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Emily stepped into the hallway, her eyes glued to the floor until she saw our shoes, and she slowly glanced up. Her face was soft and sad, like she had been holding back tears for the past hour that she had been inside that conference room. If Emily looked that bad, if Emily could crack, then I was fucked. Emily was perhaps the strongest out of all of us, even if no one wanted to admit it. She, like Hotch, had been through too much in her life already to break when it came to losing someone or something. But after what I saw, after what we lost, I knew that there was no way the next hour was going to be easy for me. If Emily could crack even the slightest bit, I was going to break into a million different pieces.

Emily held the door open behind her in order to usher me in, but I took a moment to just stay frozen in place while losing all feeling in my hand because of how tight Hotch’s grip was. I felt sick already and I hadn’t even sat down inside yet— hell, I hadn’t even seen the damn room yet. How was I supposed to go in there on my own for an hour when Hotch and I hadn’t been apart for more than two minutes since it happened? How was I supposed to survive the next hour without him there to comfort me and tell me that it was going to be alright. I knew that I was supposed to be the strong one right now. I knew that he needed me to step up and be the brave one because he couldn’t do it for once— and no one blamed him. Not a single person who knew him the way we all did blamed him for what happened or how he reacted. But when was I supposed to finally break? When was it alright for me to fall apart in his arms and have him tell me that it would be alright?

“You should go,” Hotch croaked.

I shook my head. “I can’t move.”

Hotch let go of my hand and I sucked in a breath. Honestly, I would have rathered he continued to break my hand if it meant he just continued to touch me. Not feeling him anymore made me feel like I was drowning in my nerves. In the next instant, though, he turned and put his hands on my shoulders so that I would face him and look at him. I stared into his brown eyes for a minute, finding peace in how they seemed so dark and endless. Even with a black eye, a broken nose, and scratches everywhere, he was still handsome. His eyes, the way they stared right into mine, and his hands, the way they squeezed my shoulders just right, it all brought me back to Earth and grounded me.

“I’ll be right here when you’re done. It’ll be okay.”

My heart ached in my chest. Nothing felt okay. It didn’t feel like it would ever be okay again. But I trusted Hotch, and I knew that I could believe him about this, too. If he thought that things were going to be okay, even when his whole world was falling apart, then there had to be some truth to it. So, I nodded shortly, bowing my head so that I could collect my thoughts and whatever bravery was hiding deep inside of me so that I could make the first step towards the door that Emily was still politely holding open for me.

Hotch leaned in and kissed my forehead gently before releasing me. I made my move towards the door, and Emily tried shooting me a small, reassuring smile. Even though she was trying to help, it somehow only made me feel worse. I was just too worried to appreciate how she was trying to be supportive. She was a good friend, and she had been by my side when it happened, but even her kindness couldn’t distract me from the misery that was waiting behind that door.

When I stepped into the conference room, I saw Strauss sitting at the table, her back towards me. Her head was down as she wrote some notes down in a file she had in front of her. When she heard me coming in, she glanced over her shoulder to take notice that it was me, but she didn’t smile invitingly. She gestured to the seat across from her as she sat forward again. I sucked in a deep, quiet breath as I walked around the table and took the seat that had seemingly been assigned for me.

“Well, this all feels awfully familiar,” she said to herself while adjusting her glasses on her nose. I asked myself how on Earth she could make a joke about the time she wrongfully suspended me when what just happened was absolutely horrendous. “I’ll be recording this interview for the council, if you don’t mind. It was the only way I could convince them to allow me to do this in-house with everyone on your team except for Agent Hotchner.” I shrugged. Strauss took that as a sufficient answer, so she reached out for the tape recorder between us and started it. As she settled in her seat once more, she began the interview with, “Please state your name and rank for the record.”

I shifted around uncomfortably, my sweaty hands fidgeting with the hem of my pencil skirt under the table. “Y/N Greenaway, Special Agent for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.”

How I managed to get through all of that without stuttering or throwing up everywhere, I wasn’t sure. I just wished that there were a way for Hotch to be there with me. I didn’t want to relive what happened that day, but I especially didn’t want to do it without someone— anyone— by my side. Hell, I would have even taken up the idea of being there with Rossi, if that was what it would take.

“And, how long have you been a member of the BAU?” she inquired.

“Just under two years, ma’am.”

“And you have worked under Agent Hotchner this entire time?”

Well, that was one way to phrase it, Thank you, Chief Strauss. But I shook my head regardless of the pun that was spinning through my mind. “No, ma’am, I currently report to Agent Morgan.”

“Because Agent Hotchner’s ability to lead this unit had been compromised?”

“No, ma’am. Agent Hotchner has always been able to lead our unit, and he’s very good at it. He stepped down from the position temporarily because of the injuries he suffered at the hands of George Foyet a few months ago. He is planning on returning to his position as the unit chief once he’s feeling better.”

Strauss bit the inside of her cheek. That wasn’t the answer she was hoping to hear since she was looking for every reason to finally bury Hotch’s career now, but there was no way in hell that I was going to play her little game. Just like when she tried to get rid of both of us with our original suspensions awhile ago, I wasn’t going to play nice now. Not when Hotch couldn’t afford to lose his job now, too.

“How long have you been involved with Agent Hotchner?”

“What does it matter?”

“Just answer the question, Agent Greenaway.”

My gaze hardened as I stared at her, a challenge that said: “This is stupid.” But she didn’t relent. Her question still stood, and she was waiting for an answer. If I didn’t respond, and the committee heard that I was dodging a question about my relationship with my boss, that would raise more questions than we needed. So, I gave in.

“Just under two years, ma’am. Agent Hotchner and I got involved with one another a month into my promotion into the BAU.”

“So, you were not involved beforehand?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Your promotion into the unit had nothing to do with any kind of favoritism?”

I stared at her blankly. What kind of fucking question was that? No, I didn’t fucking get promoted because Hotch liked me. Yeah, we both secretly admired one another for years, but I didn’t know that until after I joined the BAU. Hotch told me that him and Gideon decided to hire me because of my skills. It had nothing to do with anything personal. For her to insinuate otherwise was distasteful.

I bit my tongue and answered through gritted teeth, “No, ma’am. Like I said, we got involved after my promotion.” I released my tongue. “Pardon me, ma’am, but what does this have to do with what happened?”

“Agent Greenaway, the faster you stick to just answering my questions, the sooner you can go home. The more pushback you give me, the longer this will take. So, just… answer to the best of your ability.”

I bit my tongue again, this time to hold back every curse word imaginable. If I could have, I would have leapt across the table and strangled her then and there. But with a, “Yes, ma’am,” I obeyed reluctantly.

“Good.” She looked back down at her sheet of questions. “How would you describe Agent Hotchner’s behavior in and out of work?”

“With all due respect, ma’am, this isn’t about what happens behind closed doors. This isn’t about what happens after work. This isn’t about mine and Agent Hotchner’s private life. Therefore, I will not be disclosing any information about his behavior outside of work. As for at work, he is very driven— especially since George Foyet first attacked him in our home.”

“How long has Agent Hotchner been investigating George Foyet?”

“To my knowledge, Agent Hotchner was originally introduced to The Reaper case when George Foyet first started killing in the 90’s. Agent Hotchner was promoted to lead profiler for the case, but the trail went cold, and he didn’t revisit the case until George Foyet started killing again about three months ago.” My hands pulled at the bottom of my skirt as I thought about what I was going to say next. Like I said before, I didn’t want to have to relive all of this, but there we were… I had no say in the matter. “We restarted the investigation again after Karl Arnold revealed to us that George Foyet was his secret admirer.”

“Why did you stop the investigation three months ago?”

“Because we had placed George Foyet in custody after finally catching him. By the time we learned of his escape from prison, he was long gone, and we were already home. We had other cases, and there were no new leads. We couldn’t do anything until we heard from him again or decided to kill again. So, when he reached out to us through Arnold, we restarted the investigation.”

Strauss put down her pen, took off her glasses, and looked away from her questions so that she could look me right in the eye. “I’d like to hear your side of the story. What happened that day as you remember it? Keep in mind, everyone is telling us their story, so if you lie in order to protect Agent Hotchner, it could possibly result in your immediate job termination.”

This was the dreaded moment. There were no more questions, unless Strauss needed me to clarify something. All there was left to do was give every single detail, no matter how painful. The worst part about it, though, was that I couldn’t break. No matter how bad it got, I couldn’t let Strauss, of all people, see me crumble. She had been working since we first met towards getting rid of me, and if she thought that I was “too emotionally vulnerable for the position”, she would have me gone in a heartbeat.

I reached forward slightly and grabbed an empty glass and the jug of water beside it. With a shaky hand, I nervously poured myself a full cup. “Aaron and I—” I stopped myself. Just keep it together. Please. Don’t fuck this up so soon. “Agent Hotchner and I had been staying in a safe house because we were afraid that Foyet was stalking us. We didn’t think that it was safe to go home anymore, so we left and didn’t tell anyone where we were going— even the unit had no clue we moved. We still came to work, though, in case Foyet was still watching. We wanted to give the impression that everything was alright while we started looking for him again. On Thursday,” I shivered as I thought about how that day started so innocent but ended with a trip down to Hell. “On Thursday, Agent Jareau came into work to tell us that she realized something about Foyet’s medication. We had been trying to track him through all of the medications he needed to take as a result of stabbing himself back in the 90’s in order to escape police detection. Agent Hotchner had been prescribed all of the same medicines after his stabbing, so we knew what we were supposed to be looking for, the only trouble was, no one seemed to be buying what was needed, which meant that Foyet was a ghost in the wind. Agent Jareau realized that he was taking certain over the counter medications that replicated the effects of what he needed to actually help him. So, we started looking for purchases around the area that matched, and for the medications that he couldn’t replace.”

Hotch and JJ stormed into the boardroom as Morgan, Emily, Reid, and I kept searching through every red flagged receipt in the state. Reid was going faster than the rest of us, of course, but we really didn’t know what we were even looking for. We knew that Foyet needed to bulk up on all of these seemingly random over the counter medications, but so did half of Virginia, apparently. Despite the fact that Hotch, JJ, and Garcia managed to narrow down our search to a list of different pills, it didn’t help that most of them listed were popular brands, like Claritin, Motrin, TUMS, etc. Anyone with a sick kid or grandparent was stocking up on these pills, too. We needed to narrow it down again somehow if we were going to find Foyet soon.

When they came storming in, though, they seemed to have good news. Finally. They had the name of the medications that couldn’t be replicated or substituted. Tapazole, which helped treat hyperthyroidism— a disease which caused extreme weight loss as a leading symptom. It was the only one out of all of Foyet’s medication that he couldn’t get anywhere else. That was how we were going to find him. We narrowed it down further, just like we wanted, but we still needed to get more specific. There were thousands of people in the state of Virginia who took Tapazole, and Foyet was likely using an alias. If we were going to find him fast before he could move on, we needed to fine down our geographic profile.

Foyet was last seen in Fairfax County, where Hotch and I lived. That was the day he stabbed Hotch and drove him to the hospital. The last time we heard from Foyet, however, came down to the letters he sent to Karl Arnold in prison. Each letter was sent from a different city: Westminster and Fredericksburg. So, we had three locations, which meant that we could triangulate, but that meant fuck all when Foyet’s profile stated that he liked to move around a lot when he knew he was being hunted. Even if we could possibly search the epicenter of the three cities, he was probably long gone. We needed something more.

“The center,” Morgan pointed to the map on the wall, “it’s D.C., not Virginia. Why?”

“Because he’s staying close to Hotch,” Emily assumed. “He liked watching Shaunessy deteriorate because of his guilt. Now he wants to see Hotch fall apart without his fam—” Emily stopped herself when she realized what she was saying. She had just been doing her job, profiling the Unsub, looking at the M.O., narrowing down the victimology; but she crossed a line accidentally, and she immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry,” she told Hotch quietly.

He shook his head and shrugged. “I know he’s been watching us. That’s why Y/N and I moved to a safe house and I stepped down as unit chief. I wanted him to think that he was winning.”

Morgan and I glanced at each other. Neither of us knew that. Hotch told me it was for his health and because I was worried sick about him. I didn’t think for a moment that there was a larger game at play. It still didn’t matter, though. Even if Foyet really was still watching us, and Hotch wanted that, he could be long gone already.

“Eureka!” Garcia cheered as she came running in with her computer, just on time. “The goddess and her boy toy do it again!” She set her computer down on the red table and took a seat. “I narrowed the list down to 153 names.”

“That’s still a lot of people,” I said, crossing my arms. I knew that she was doing her best, and she had just broken through a huge wall for us, but we were racing against time now. 153 names was too many. There had to be a way to find Foyet on that list.

“Garcia,” Hotch said, turning to face her, “look to see if he used the name of one of his victims as his alias.”

Garcia typed away at her computer. “Nothing.”

“What about one of the cops who worked at the precinct during his arrest?”

“Nothing.”

“What about an anagram?” Spencer offered, pushing himself to his feet, using his cane to do all the work. He limped his way over to the glass board and started writing out George Foyet’s name. We all watched as he mumbled to himself, underlining certain letters, crossing out others, rearranging a few here and there. “That’s not right,” he groaned as he erased all of his work. He then started over, using The Reaper as his base. “This goes here, that goes there, this crosses out, that goes away—” And then he got it. By some miracle, that brilliant mind of his found it. “Peter Rhea.”

“You, Dr. Reid, deserve more credit,” Garcia complimented as she typed away again. “There’s a Peter Rhea in Arlington.”

We immediately set out to head to Peter Rhea’s apartment. Morgan hurried to his office to call in a SWAT, and the second he was off the phone, our team was racing to get into the cars. Hotch drove me, Morgan, and Emily, while Rossi drove JJ and Spencer in the other car. We sped through the cities with the lights and sirens on until we reached the block over from the apartment. We split up and parked on opposite ends of the road, staying hidden around a corner and under a tree.

Morgan ordered us to stay in the cars while the SWAT team set up a surveillance system to see if Foyet was inside. He wanted to play this safe and smart since he was still getting a lot of heat from Strauss and the Director while being the new unit chief. We couldn’t go storming into some random guy’s apartment without probable cause, we all knew that, but if the call were up to Hotch, we would have already been knocking at the door. Morgan, on the other hand, wanted to wait and see if Foyet would do anything while the SWAT team got in place.

“Is he ready?” Morgan asked into his comm.

The plan was that they were going to send in an agent undercover as a plumber to see if they could get someone to open up the door. If Foyet opened the door, we could go in and continue with making the arrest. If Foyet didn’t open up, the agent was going to use a micro-wire camera to peek under the door to see if there was anything suspicious enough to give us the reasonable cause we were looking for.

I looked out the window to see the agent walking across the street with his toolbox in hand. He walked casually into the building, which was when we lost sight of him. All there was to do now was wait to hear if we could move in or see if he would connect the camera’s live feed to our tablet in the car. So, we watched as he made his way up to the apartment we suspected that Foyet was in. Still, without cause, we had to wait. But we were all getting anxious, understandably.

He first knocked on the door, waiting to see if there was a response. If Foyet opened the door, we were going to make our move. If someone besides Foyet opened the door, we would have to wait to see if there was anything incriminating of if we just got the wrong place. If no one would open up, then we’d have to use the camera. A minute passed. No one answered, even when he tried knocking again, so Morgan gave the go ahead to use the camera.

The camera snuck under the door, and we watched on the tablet in Morgan’s lap. My heart was racing in my chest. My hope was that the son of a bitch was cowering inside, making it easy for us to capture him. This time, we weren’t going to give him a chance to escape. This time, he wasn’t going to hurt Hotch.

“Morgan, look,” I pressed the tip of my index finger against the screen. “There’s unfinished food next to that laptop. The food, the unopened mail, the clean apartment. This has to be his place, and he left in a hurry.”

“He’s not fucking there?” Hotch inquired angrily.

“Move in!” Morgan demanded into his comm. The team jumped out of the cars we arrived in, all of us unholstering our weapons as we closed the doors. The SWAT team was already moving across the street in formation.

We stormed the building, racing up the staircase together in a single file line since running was faster than waiting for the elevator. When we arrived on Foyet’s floor, Morgan led the way down the hallway, and slowed to a stop in front of the apartment. Morgan kicked the door down before running in first. Emily, Rossi, and Hotch were all right behind him, with me and JJ keeping watch in the hallway. The SWAT team was still clearing the rest of the building, and it would take a while to meet us all the way at the top floor, so we needed to search the place as fast as possible.

Morgan and I moved into the bedroom on the left while the team looked around the main room. There was a half-packed suitcase on the bed, clothes everywhere, and a safe hidden in the open closet with a stash of guns inside. He hadn’t even bothered to lock up the guns when he left, which meant that he knew he wasn’t coming back. Foyet knew we were coming, and he ran. Shit.

I lowered my weapon as I let out an angry sigh. We wasted so much time just sitting in the car. I loved and respected Morgan, and I knew that I trusted him with my life out in the field, but he made the wrong call by telling us to wait in the car. If we had gotten into the place sooner, we would have already seen this and been tracking Foyet to his next location. Now we were too far behind.

“What’s going on out here?” Morgan asked, stepping back into the main room.

The team was huddled around the computer that Foyet left, watching nervously as something beeped on the screen. I followed Morgan and leaned on my tiptoes to see the computer over everyone’s shoulders. Foyet brought what he needed to D.C., and he only took what he needed when he left this apartment in a hurry. Everything else was evidence for us, he knew that. Since he knew we were coming, he had a safety system in place to make sure we wouldn’t get our hands on anything valuable, which included the contents of his laptop. The team looked nervous because whatever was on there, it was being deleted by a program he created.

JJ was already calling Garcia to see if she could stop it and save everything that was already gone. Like the goddess she was, Garcia already hacked into the computer by the time Morgan and I were aware that this was happening. She managed to stop the program that was deleting everything just as I leaned back on my feet and stepped towards Hotch’s side to get a better look at the screen.

Hotch had his hands clasped together in front of him, his fingers picking at his cuticles nervously. He was upset that Foyet wasn’t there, that he had escaped us again, and that we still didn’t have our family back yet. We had hoped that this lead would end with Foyet in handcuffs again, and Hotch would immediately get to call Sam to tell him that Haley and Jack could come home. Both of us had hoped that this lead would have ended with us holding Jack in our arms by diner time, but the world wasn’t kind to us like that. Foyet had escaped us countless times before, and this was just another one of those cases.

“Garcia, wait—” Morgan insisted. I looked back over at the computer to see that Garcia had paused her new program which was retrieving everything Foyet already deleted. She had been running through hundreds of different pictures, just trying to collect them all, but something caught Morgan’s eye. “Hotch, isn’t that—”

Hotch grabbed his phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “Yeah, that’s the U.S. Marshal assigned to my family.”

My heart sank in my chest as Garcia continued running the program. Foyet had hundreds— if not thousands of photos of Sam. This whole time, Hotch and I had been worried that Foyet was following us in the hopes of getting to Haley and Jack, but he was really trying to get to them through Sam, the only one who knew where they were. Sam had probably visited them on multiple occasions to make sure they were doing okay, since that was the unofficial deal he made with Hotch. Every time Sam went to visit them, Foyet was there. He knew where they were. He knew how to get to them— via Sam.

“He’s not picking up,” Hotch informed us before trying Sam’s number again, this time to leave a message. “Sam, it’s Aaron. We found Foyet’s apartment, but he has surveillance of you. He might know where they are. I need you to call me for a meet location, or we’re on our way to you.”

Morgan pulled his phone out, too. “We need another SWAT team at Sam’s place.”

“That’ll take at least thirty minutes,” I said.

“It’s the best chance we got.”

“Aaron!” I called after him while he stormed out of the apartment. I looked to Morgan for his next orders. “We need to go to Sam’s house. Now.”

Morgan nodded, “Go. Reid will stay here with SWAT, the rest of us will catch up.”

I didn’t spend another second in that apartment. In an instant, I was on my toes, chasing after Hotch, jumping down the steps of the apartment building, trying to meet him at the car before he could drive off. As I pushed through the front doors in the lobby, I saw Hotch getting into the driver’s seat of the closest car we brought. Hotch spotted me running across the road as he started up the car. He waited until I was in the car to go, the door barely even closed yet, my seatbelt not on.

Hotch was driving like a mad man. He was taking the turns too fast, he was weaving around cars, he was racing through intersections without looking to see if it was safe. I genuinely feared that we were going to die before we could even get to Sam’s house. What help would we be then? Hotch could afford to at least slow down a bit, right?

I grabbed the handle on the ceiling as we took another sharp turn a little too fast. Hotch tried to regain control of the car as he straightened out the steering wheel before the car would overturn. I sighed with relief quietly when we didn’t die, then kept driving towards Sam’s neighborhood.

When we arrived at Sam’s house, Hotch drove straight up onto the curb and jumped out once the car was in park, but didn’t wait to turn off the car. I followed suit, both of us grabbing our guns as we ran up the sidewalk in the middle of the front yard. My eyes grew wide as I silently took notice of the unlocked front door that was half open. Hotch noticed, too, but nothing needed to be said about it. The plan was to do what we always did. Go in together, clear the house, find Sam. Most importantly, just pray that Sam was okay.

Hotch looked over at me. “You got me?” he whispered.

I nodded.

He faced the door and took in a deep breath before pushing it open and running in. I followed closely. Both of our weapons were raised, our fingers on the triggers. We hurried inside to search the place for any sign of Sam. Hotch checked the left side of the living room, while I went to the right. The backdoor was open, just as the front door had been.

I immediately holstered my weapon as I walked around the couch in the middle of the room to find Sam laying on the floor, bleeding out. I called Hotch’s name and he came rushing over. We both fell to our knees beside him and I started to put pressure on his wounds. Sam had been shot in the chest twice, each leg once, and in the foot a single time. I started by pressing down on his chest, and Hotch helped by holding the thigh wounds.

“Medic!” Hotch yelled to the approaching ambulance outside. “Medic, please!”

Sam groaned and opened his swollen eyes as far as he could. Foyet had beaten up his face and cut off three fingers. “I’m sorry, Hotch…” he croaked before coughing up some blood.

Hotch leaned over him to make sure they could make eye contact. “It’s alright, Sam. It’s alright. You need to tell me if he knows where Jack and Haley are.” He was being so calm. Oddly calm.

“I didn’t… I couldn’t… I’m sorry…”

“Sam, look at me,” Hotch begged. “Does he know where Haley and Jack are? What’s her phone number or address?”

“It won’t matter…”

“What does that mean?” I questioned.

“It won’t matter…” he repeated, his eyes falling shut.

I looked up at Hotch. “It’s the shock.”

I recognized his inability to speak because of how similar it was to how Hotch was after the car bombing in New York. Hotch couldn’t form complete sentences, and he always kept repeating the same thing over and over, even when I would try to ask him questions. Sam was the same way, and I couldn’t blame him. Foyet had really done a number on him. He was bleeding out fast, and I prayed that the medics would arrive soon.

“Sam, please, just tell me if he knows where our family is,” Hotch said, still calm and collected as I had ever seen him.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, but fell shut again. He was losing consciousness. There was no way he would be able to tell us anything about where Foyet went or how to find Haley and Jack. Even if he got to the hospital before bleeding out, there was no telling when he would wake up in order to tell us where Haley and Jack were. We needed answers now, but the only person who could give them to us was unable to say anything at all.

A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders. Morgan pulled me onto my feet and out of the way as the EMTs hurried into the house with a medical bag and a stretcher. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth to cover the worry and shock that was certainly plastered to my face. Morgan noticed my bloody hands, so he grabbed a wipe or handkerchief of some kind from his pocket. He took my hands in his while I still stared down at Sam and the medics doing everything they could to help him. I felt Morgan wipe the blood off my hands, and I could vaguely hear him talking to me, but I didn’t say anything or even more. Sam was our last chance. He was our last link. He knew where they were, and now Foyet knew.

Hotch looked as solid as a rock, not reacting a single bit. He just calmly stood and moved to the side while we all watched the EMTs get to work. They started by covering up the bullet wounds, then rolling him onto a stretcher, and as they wheeled him out, they stuck an IV in his arm. Hotch was right next to the stretcher as they rolled Sam out of the house, onto the sidewalk, and up to the ambulance waiting in the road. Morgan and I were a few steps behind, watching as the EMTs lifted Sam into the back of the vehicle. I noticed that Hotch wasn’t waiting back with us, though. No, he was all the way up there with them—

“Aaron!” I yelled, running towards the ambulance.

He was climbing in with the EMTs and was already working on closing the door when he heard me. He stopped for a fleeting moment. “Stay here! I love you!” Then he closed the door.

The ambulance immediately sped off the second the door was shut. Sirens shook the neighborhood, and the lights nearly blinded me as my eyes fogged over. I felt sick and confused again, just like I had at the hospital in New York. I tried to close my eyes, swallow hard to keep myself from vomiting, and focus on finding Jack alive. Hotch left to talk with Sam in the ambulance. That was a good move. It was the right move. But not knowing what was going on and not being able to do anything made the panic that had been building in my chest since New York come flooding back into my mind, heart, and lungs.

My ears started ringing just as my heart rate sped up and my lungs started to give out. I cursed under my breath as I hid my face in my hands and sat down before I could pass out and likely hit my head on the concrete. I tried to focus on Jack and our favorite dinosaur that was sitting at home, waiting for him to come back and play with it. I tried to not think about the bile rising in my closing throat or the way my whole body was shaking like I was standing in the middle of a world ending type of earthquake.

I gasped for breath and laid on my back, the sun’s light casting through my eyelids. It was so nice and warm out. It didn’t feel like the kind of day that was meant for this. But, then again, when was it ever the right kind of day for something like this?

“Morgan...” I croaked. “Morgan, it’s happening again.”

I could feel him crouching down beside me, putting one hand on my hair and one on my shoulder. As he tried to talk to me, it just sounded like he was screaming at me from underwater. Everything was so muffled, and nothing made sense. The ringing in my ears returned two-fold this time and I winced. Trying to balance everything— my breathing, my heart rate, my ears, my sick stomach, the shaking, the blurry sight, and the racing thoughts— all at once was too overwhelming for me. This didn’t feel like New York. It felt ten times worse than that.

“Call Hotch!” I heard Morgan yell. That was the only clear thing to me. “Call him now!”

In a few moments following that, I felt a phone press against my ear. “Y/N?” It was Hotch. He was still in the ambulance. “Y/N? Are you there?”

“I’m here…” I whispered, opening my eyes. The feeling of needing to vomit was slowly subsiding. “Has Sam said anything?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. Just talk to me.”

I sucked in a deep breath, held it, and slowly let it out— just like the doctor in New York taught me. Slow and easy breaths. “Did he tell you where to find Jack and Haley?”

“No.” He was holding something back, I could tell.

“Foyet?”

“Took Sam’s phone, called Haley, and impersonated a U.S. Marshal.”

I pushed myself upright and took the phone from Morgan. Deep breath in, hold it, then let it out. The ringing in my ears was gone and I could hear everything around me again. “Did she tell him where they are?”

“No. She’s meeting him somewhere.”

“Do you know where?”

“Y/N, stop it. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, standing up. Morgan held his arms out like he was ready to catch me at any second. “Tell me everything Sam said. Please.”

Hotch sighed on the other end of the call, likely debating if he should tell me or hold his tongue. Someone must have told him what happened, which was why he wasn’t telling me anything, and he was avoiding talking about Foyet in order to get me talking. I promised him ever since New York that this wouldn’t happen again, and just when it finally does, he was too far away to help me.

“He told her that she was compromised and that we’re dead,” he answered. “He told her to throw away her phone and buy a disposable.”

“That son of a bitch…” I mumbled under my breath.

I gave Morgan a worried look and he called the team over. I took the phone away from my ear and put the call on speaker. My shaking was nearly gone. I felt like a million bucks again. Funny how those things work sometimes, right? Or maybe it was just that I had suppressed it all again and I was another ticking time bomb. Honestly, if that were the case, I was just hoping that I’d wait to blow up again until after we found Jack and Haley safe and alive.

“Foyet posed as a Marshal and called Haley from Sam’s phone,” I caught the team up to speed.

Emily was cocking a brow at me like she didn’t understand how I could go from laying on the sidewalk while hyperventilating to standing upright and talking about the case without any hesitancy. I tried to avoid eye contact with her so as to not be alarmed by her worry for me.

“He still has the phone,” Hotch continued explaining for me. “He scared Haley into thinking that she’s alone and in danger. She trusts him now because the call came from a number she knew and he gave her the promise of safety. We have to find him.”

JJ pulled out her phone, “Garcia, we need you to locate Sam Kassmeyer’s phone ASAP.” She stayed on the line as Garcia worked. “Fairfax County,” she repeated for us.

“Send the approximate coordinates to my phone,” Hotch demanded before hanging up.

“Wait—” Emily tried to catch him, but he was already gone. “Garcia, is that phone still on?”

JJ, with the phone still pressed to her ear, nodded to Emily.

“It’s a trap,” Emily said.

“Emily, call the U.S. Marshals. See if they can reach Haley,” Morgan ordered as we all headed back to the cars. “It’ll be a tight fit.”

Emily, Rossi, and JJ made it work, though, as the three of them squished hip to hip in the back seat. Emily was already on the phone with the U.S. Marshal Service while JJ was still listening to Garcia as she tried to get more information about Foyer and Hotch. Emily sighed, hanging up the call she was on after having a back to back conversation while Morgan started speeding out of the neighborhood.

“Haley’s gone. They don’t know where she is,” Emily informed us.

“Guys,” JJ said, putting her call with Garcia on speaker. “Hotch is calling Sam’s phone.”

“Foyet has it, though—” I said before realizing what that meant. “Garcia, can you connect us to it?”

“Already done,” Garcia said.

“Agent Hotchner,” Foyet welcomed with a bright voice. “How are you?”

“If you touch them, I swear to—”

“What? Do you want me to be gentle, like I was with you?”

My blood ran cold. Morgan glanced over at me to read my face before turning back to watch the road. Hotch and told me what Foyet did to him, but there were obviously some details he refused to tell me, like how he was tortured. As far as I was aware, Foyet had broken into our house, stabbed Hotch a series of times after they had a fight, and then he dropped Hotch off at the hospital. He didn’t tell me anything about Foyet taking his time to torture him, though, I guessed I should have known that the Reaper wasn’t just going to let Aaron Hotchner get off that easily.

“What took you so long?” Foyet chuckled. “I was beginning to think this piece of shit phone was dead or something.” There was silence on the call for a moment. “Why are you so quiet, Aaron? You usually lash out when you’re frustrated. Remember what happened when I mentioned dear old Y/N that night? You threw a goddamn glass bottle at my head. Where’s the fight, Aaron?”

“I’m not frustrated. You’re just predictable.”

“Is that so?”

“You didn’t know where Haley was, so you tricked her into coming to you. That’s not like you either, George. Where’s the creativity?” He was pushing back against Foyet to prove that he wasn’t going to be rattled.

“You make me sound lazy, Aaron.”

“No. I just know you’re smarter than this. I mean, you did kill your parents when you were nine—”

“—They died in a car crash—”

“—That you caused and couldn’t take credit for. Is that your biggest regret? Hmm? Not being able to brag about your greatest accomplishment?”

“That’s not my greatest accomplishment,” Foyet snickered.

“No? Then what is? Getting away with all of the people you murdered in cold blood?”

“Have you stopped to ask yourself that perhaps my greatest accomplishment has yet to come? In fact, I’m staring at it right now. She’s gorgeous, Aaron. I get why you married her. But I think blonde suited her better than the brunette look. Oh— and here comes the little man! Look at how big he is now! Wow. You know, Aaron, I actually admire one thing about you. Do you care to know what it is?” Hotch didn’t say anything still, so Foyet continued. “Most couples, when they get a divorce and there’s a kid involved, they fight for custody, but not you and Haley. You two managed to work it out in a way that made you both happy. She got him nearly all the time, and you got to see him when you and your whore weren’t away.” He tsked his tongue, “Aw. Look at his little superhero t-shirt. Adorable.”

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and gestured for Morgan to go faster.

“Hey, you know what, that reminds me…” Foyet groaned like he was stretching. “When I called Haley earlier and told her that you and Y/N were dead, she said that Jack wanted me to grab a toy dinosaur from your place— mentioned something about how it’s Jack’s favorite toy and he can’t bear to move away again without it. I hope you don’t mind, but I went by your guys’ place and grabbed it for him.”

A whimper left my throat as I failed to choke back a sob. Our favorite dinosaur… The one Jack gave me before leaving. The one I had been thinking about earlier to help calm me down. Foyet went back to our house just to grab it. It was going to be the last thing Jack would see.

Rossi reached between mine and Morgan’s front seats and grabbed my shoulder to comfort me. I put my hand over his after wiping away a tear from my cheek.

Another phone on Foyet’s end of the call started ringing. “Oh, that’ll be Haley. Hold, please, while I turn you off speaker and answer her call,” Foyet said. We heard the beep of him picking up the other call and putting it on speaker for us to listen. “Mrs. Hotchner, are you safe?”

“Yes. I’m here,” Haley said.

I squeezed Rossi’s hand.

“Good. Just open the gate and I’ll drive in,” Foyet said to her.

“Okay. Thanks.” She hung up the phone as fast as she could.

“Aaron, you still there?” Foyet asked. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll say goodbye to the little man for ya.”

“You motherfuc—” Hotch began, but the call ended.

“Garcia?” JJ asked into her phone.

“I couldn’t get an address,” she whispered in defeat. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Wait…” I said, letting go of Rossi’s hand. “Wait, wait, wait. Garcia, Sam’s phone is government issued, which means that they can falsify the call’s location. Is it possible that he’s not even in the middle of Fairfax?”

“It’s possible, I suppose, but the signal was bouncing from three towers around that county. He could be anywhere inside it or just outside of it.”

Hotch and I lived just outside of Fairfax County. He hadn’t moved out after Haley left him, and we certainly didn’t move when I moved in with him. We wanted Jack to have some normalcy in his life, so staying in his childhood home was the best choice. There was a gate in order to get into the neighborhood. Foyet mentioned that Haley needed to open a gate.

We were speeding down the highway towards the North side of Fairfax County, but Hotch and I lived East of the county, just barely outside of the county line. Hotch was already close by to the house after leaving the hospital, but we were at least fifteen minutes away. We wouldn’t get there in time, but Hotch could.

I scrambled for my phone and dialed Hotch’s number again and he answered. “Hotch, he’s at the house! He told Haley to meet him at our house!”

Foyet had tried to throw us off by mentioning the dinosaur, making us believe that he broke into our house in order to give Jack the toy at a separate location; when, in reality, Jack was already at the house and probably already found the dinosaur sitting prominently on the table by the front door.

“I know, Y/N. I know.”

Morgan made an abrupt U-turn, and we started speeding back towards South-East to meet Hotch at the house.

“Y/N?” he asked quietly on the other end. I hummed a tune that asked: “What?” and he followed with, “I love you.”

“Hotch, why are you—”

“If something happens… I love you.”

“Aaron, stop it,” I begged, shaking my head.

It sounded like he was saying goodbye, and it was scaring me. Why did he think that something was going to happen? Nothing was going to happen. Nothing. He was going to be fine. He was going to get there before Foyet could lay a finger on Haley or Jack. Everything was going to be alright.

“Please say it back. Please.”

“Aaron—”

“Please.”

I took in a deep breath and blinked away the tears that were welling in my eyes. “I love you, Aaron.”

“Guys, Foyet’s calling Hotch again,” Garcia informed us.

“I love you,” we both repeated to each other one last time before he hung up and answered Foyet’s call.

Garcia connected us again so that we could listen.

“Aaron?” Haley asked into their new call. “You’re okay?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I’m fine,” he responded.

“But… He said that…” Haley gasped quietly. “Oh…”

“He can hear us, can’t he?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Haley, don’t show him any weakness, alright? He feeds off of it.”

“Oh, come on, Aaron,” Foyet groaned out of annoyance. “Chop, chop, tell your wife what this is really all about. Come on. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Aaron?” Haley questioned, pressing him for answers.

“Don’t listen to him,” Hotch begged, “he’s just trying to scare you.”

“Well, she should be scared, Aaron! She gonna D-I-E because you refused to listen to me!”

I looked at Morgan for any kind of consolation. He looked back at me with pressed in eyebrows and sad eyes. “We’re at least twelve minutes away,” he told me quietly.

“Ignore him, Haley!” Hotch yelled.

“Since he won’t tell you,” Foyet sighed, “I guess I will. All he had to do to save you and your son was stop looking for me.”

Haley sniffled, “Aaron, what is he talking about?”

Hotch was quiet for a long moment.

I wondered what he was going to say. Was he going to tell Haley the truth? That George Foyet had told Hotch that he would stop killing if we just stopped chasing after him— if we just put the case away until he would eventually die, then this whole mess wouldn’t be happening. Foyet proposed the deal that night in the hotel room, and Hotch practically told him to go fuck himself. It made sense why Foyet wasn’t exactly happy, and was thus trying to take it out on our family. The psychology of it made sense, but I just wanted this nightmare to end. We couldn’t go back in time and tell Foyet that we would agree to his terms, and Foyet knew it. He knew that this was Hotch’s fault, and he wanted everyone to know it. He wanted Hotch to know it most of all.

“Tell Jack I need him to work the case,” Hotch cried into the phone.

My face fell into my hands as I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Hotch had tried so hard all day to stay strong for himself, for me, for the team, and for Jack and Haley. He hadn’t broken once, even when I was a wreck. But Foyet had Haley and Jack. He had our son and there was nothing we could do. We were all helpless. But there was one thing Hotch could tell Jack to do that could save his life. One simple request that seemed so innocent to Foyet and everyone else— but Jack, Hotch, and I knew the truth. Telling Jack to go work the case was the last thing we could possibly do to save him. If that didn’t work, it was over. Foyet would kill both of them and we would lose.

“Hi, Daddy,” Jack said into the phone.

I let out a sob. Morgan and Rossi both put a comforting hand on me, but it didn’t matter. Nothing was going to help me. Jack sounded so happy, so oblivious to what was going on. And as I hid my face in my hands, I couldn’t help but see images of him lying dead on our carpet. We were going to find him like that… Our baby Jack.

“Hi, buddy,” Hotch sniffled.

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No… They’re coming, though. We’re both trying to get home to you as fast as we can.”

“Is George a bad guy?”

“Yes… Yes, he is, Jack. Listen, buddy, I need you on this case with me. Do you understand? I need you to go work on your superhero homework because Y/N and I need your help with this case. Does that sound good, kiddo?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Now give your mom a Superman hug, Jack.”

There was silence on both ends of the call for a minute, then I could hear Haley whispering to Jack that she loved him more than anything in the world and he complained that she was hugging him too tight. She apologized to him through a half sob.

“Why are you sad, mommy?” Jack questioned.

“Oh… I just love you so much,” Haley answered as bravely as she could. “Now go work the case for your dad, alright?” Jack hummed an agreement, then I could hear his little feet running off.

“I’ll be right up, Jackie boy!” Foyet called after him.

“Is he gone?” Hotch asked.

“Yes,” Haley cried.

“You’re so strong, Haley. You’re stronger than I ever was. You’re going to be alright. I’m so close. I promise.”

“Aaron…” she whispered into the phone. I could finally hear up close just how scared she was. Her voice sputtered, she was whimpering quietly, and her breath kept hitching as she tried to not sob.

“I know you didn’t sign on for this. I’m so sorry for everything, Haley. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Aaron,” she repeated like she was trying to tell him something important. He stayed quiet to listen. “Promise me that you’ll tell Jack how we met and how you used to make me laugh… He deserves to know that we were happy at one point. Promise me that. Please…”

“I promise…” he whispered in defeat. “I promise, Haley. I love you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Haley… I promise…”

And then there were three gunshots.

I shook and cried, Rossi’s grip tightened around my shoulder, and Morgan picked up my hand to hold it.

Three shots. Three. They rang in my ears. I counted each one. One after the other. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. My ears were ringing again. I didn’t even realize that the call had ended.

I heard Emily ask how far we were, and Morgan quietly said that we were still ten minutes out, if we were lucky. Ten minutes for Foyet to find Jack. Ten minutes for him to wait for Hotch to get home. Ten minutes for him to kill my family. Ten minutes to take everything from me. Ten minutes. If we were lucky. If. If we were lucky, we’d get there and maybe only Haley and Jack would be dead. Lucky. That was considered lucky. If we weren’t, I’d walk into our home to find all three of them dead and Foyet gone.

There was nothing we could do. Nothing but to wait the ten agonizingly long minutes. Every second felt like an hour. Every breath I needed to take felt impossible to reach, like a thousand pounds were resting on my chest. And yet, the world around us didn’t seem to notice. Cars on the road moved to the side to let us through, but then they continued on behind us. The trees were still, and the birds were flying high in the sky, kids were riding their bikes on the sidewalks, people were waiting for the public transport buses; and not one of them knew what was really going on. No one knew. No one cared. Just ten minutes of me staring out the window, watching all of those people living their normal, happy lives. And I wished that I were in their shoes.

As we pulled into the neighborhood, I sat up straight, wiped my eyes, and adjusted my vest. I let go of Morgan’s hand and shrugged off Rossi’s touch on my shoulder. I pulled out my gun and checked the magazine and the chamber while telling Morgan that I’d lead us inside quietly. No one argued. They just seemed as shell shocked as I should have still been, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down when my family was in danger in our house.

Hotch’s car was parked on the grass in front of the house like he sped up as close to the door as he could get before jumping out and running in. The front door was wide open, but all of the blinds inside were closed. Someone had set the house up, and that someone was probably Foyet. He was toying with us. He had been planning this for so long while stalking us, and now that the day had finally come, he was probably sitting inside, smiling and waiting.

As the team got out, the EMTs and SWAT team also arrived. Morgan went over to talk with them about the plan for proceeding inside, while the rest of the team had my back going into the house. We quietly ran up the front lawn, and Rossi pushed the front door open carefully to make sure it wouldn’t break or hit the wall. Our favorite dinosaur wasn’t on the front table as I had left it, which meant that Jack had it with him in his spot, or Foyet took it. I didn’t want to assume anything past that while I needed to focus on finding them all alive.

The house was dark with no lights on and the curtains drawn, so we all pulled out our flashlights. I crossed my wrists over each other, one hand holding my gun up, the other pointing my flashlight forward to help me navigate my way around my own home. I gestured to Rossi and JJ to check upstairs while Emily followed me as we proceeded quietly throughout the first floor.

There was nothing in the living room that was out of place. Not a single thing. Even all of Jack’s toys were put away, even though Hotch and I had left them out on purpose to make it feel like he was still around. Someone had cleaned up, maybe it was Foyet, or maybe it was Haley. Either way, the room was still empty, so we moved on.

The door to the kitchen was wide open. Inside, one of the drawers was pulled out all the way. I checked the inside of it and noticed that our spare flashlight was gone. Hotch had come through there, too. I checked the knife rack, taking note that all of the knives were still there. No sign of a struggle in the kitchen. So we moved on again.

We worked our way into the dining room, and that was where we found the first evidence of a struggle. The table was broken like someone had been thrown onto it and it collapsed under their weight. Then just beyond the wreckage of the table, we saw the first trace of blood on the carpet. I pointed at it for Emily, and she nodded to tell me that she saw it, too. The trail led to the stairs, which was where Rossi and JJ were already looking around— and truth be told, since we hadn’t found Haley, Hotch, or Jack downstairs, it meant that they were upstairs, and I didn’t want to be the one to find them. I was fine with waiting downstairs for Rossi or JJ to tell me the bad news.

“Pssst,” Emily drew my attention to the window that was facing the backyard.

There was something going on outside, but we weren’t sure what. It could have just been the neighbors making some noise, or maybe the SWAT team was surrounding the house to make sure Foyet wouldn’t get away. Whatever it was, we needed to know, so I walked over to the window and carefully pulled the drape to the side to take a look. I peeked into the backyard for just a moment before realizing what was going on. Without warning, I dropped the drape and dashed for the backdoor, which was open, too. Emily chased after me, not sure what I saw, but still decided to follow my lead.

I holstered my weapon as I ran out past the patio and onto the grass. “Hotch!” I yelled at him, sliding to my knees. He was straddling Foyet’s torso while continuously beating him. Foyet was unrecognizable behind the blood and bashed in face, yet Hotch kept fucking going. “Aaron, stop!” I grabbed his arm before he could land another punch and pulled him off of Foyet. He sobbed as he fell back into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him to make sure he wouldn’t try to get back on Foyet to keep going. “Aaron, it’s me! He’s dead! He’s dead! Stop!” He slumped against my body, giving up, and sobbed even harder. “Baby…” I cried. “Where’s Jack?”

He stopped crying at the realization that he hadn’t gone to find Jack yet. He wiggled himself out of my hold and scrambled desperately to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he did so. I pushed myself off the ground, too, and chased after him into the house. Emily didn’t follow us, though. She stayed on the porch, just staring at Foyet’s body and all the damage Hotch had done. Hotch was capable of so much, but no one ever truly saw the extent of what he could do when he was angry. While it didn’t exactly surprise me how Foyet ended up, I could understand why Emily was so shocked and speechless.

We ran through the dining room, jumped over the pool of blood on the carpet, and hurried up the stairs. I noticed that the corner wall on the staircase had a dent at the bottom, like someone had smashed their head into it during a struggle. There was blood all over the stairs, and the banister, and the walls. So much blood… But we kept running. I used the railing to pull myself up faster, skipping as many steps as I could at a time without accidentally running into Hotch.

When we reached the top of the steps, we turned to the left and ran into the office together. Hotch’s desk was under the window that looked over the driveway on the side of the house, and my desk was on the wall to the left of that. Between our desks was a large wooden chest with a leather padded seat on the top.

Hotch hesitated in front of it, not sure if he wanted to look inside. But I didn’t wait. I had to know. Did Foyet kill my little man? Did he kill the only innocent thing in our lives? Did he win?

I knelt down and slowly opened the lid. A sudden sigh of relief left me before I started to cry again. Jack was laying down in the chest, messing with the power switch of his Spider-Man themed flashlight in one hand, and playing with our favorite dinosaur with the other. As I opened the lid all the way and rested it against the wall, Jack sat up and I immediately hugged him tight. I let out a painful cry as he nuzzled his head against my shoulder and hugged me back with his Superman strength. I lifted him out of the chest and cradled him close.

“I worked the case with you, Dad,” Jack said to Hotch.

Hotch crouched down beside me and pushed back some of Jack’s blonde hair out of his face. “You did a great job, buddy.” Hotch kissed my temple for a long moment.

Jack unwrapped his arms from our hug, and so did I. “Are you okay, Dad?”

Hotch nodded, “I’m okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau, okay?”

I looked over to the door to see JJ and Rossi standing there. No Haley with them.

One. Two. Three.

The gunshots rang in my ears again as Jack pried himself away from me and ran into JJ’s arms. JJ caught him with a forced smile and immediately carried him downstairs, making sure that he couldn’t look down the hallway to our bedroom. Rossi stayed in the doorway to make sure that we were okay, though.

Hotch fell from his knees onto his hip and leaned into my side as he started sobbing again. I turned and sat with him on the floor so that I could hold him better. He hid his bloody face in my shoulder, screaming into my shirt. My hands went up to the back of his head and held him close. My fingers curled in his hair as I let out another sob with him.

Jack was safe, but at what cost? Haley… One. Two Three. Haley didn’t make it. That was Foyet’s final move, his greatest achievement. He died knowing that he had beat Aaron Hotchner. He died knowing that he took something that meant everything to Hotch. And that was a win for him. He didn’t have to kill Jack, he didn’t have to kill me, and he didn’t even have to kill Hotch. All Foyet needed to do was take out Haley and that was it.

Hotch’s hands curled into fists around the fabric of my sleeves. I knew that he was trying to stop. I knew that he didn’t want to keep crying. He had been brave all day. He had been so strong, despite everything. And now… Now… He just couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I couldn’t blame him. Haley was the first love of his life. They had been together since high school, and she gave him the greatest gift of their lives, which was Jack. They loved each other so much, even after the divorce, and even after meeting me. They had been through hell and back together, and he knew that he had to let her go when she had finally had enough, even though it was the hardest thing for him to have ever done. Hotch never stopped loving her, it just changed after their separation. He lost her and that was the breaking point.

Foyet had killed dozens of people over his lifetime, he had taunted us, he had stabbed Hotch, he had taken the ring that was supposed to be mine, he had stolen our family from us, and he had killed Sam. And yet… none of that broke Hotch until Haley. He could go through all of that without blinking an eye, and then there was Haley.

One. Two. Three.

Hotch leaned back and looked into my eyes. His nose was broken, his forehead, lips, and cheeks were all bleeding, and his tears were still streaming down his face; but he looked right at me and took my face in his bloody hands. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head. “Are you?”

He shook his head and screwed his eyes shut again. “She’s in the bedroom… On the floor… Her eyes are open… And she was staring at me…” I brushed some strands of his dark hair out of his face. “I’ve gotta close her eyes…” He let go of my face and slowly stood up.

“Aaron—” I tried to catch his sleeve before he could leave me, but he kept going.

I took a moment to just watch him through my fogged up eyes from where I was sitting on the floor. He stumbled around, catching himself on the walls, then pushed past Rossi, who was still standing there. As Hotch walked into the hallway, Rossi and I finally made eye contact. He nodded his head to the side, a gesture that I should go with Hotch because he shouldn’t be alone. I slowly stood and started peeling off my vest. Rossi took it from me as I passed him on my way into the hallway.

I felt my knees buckle slightly as I passed Jack’s room and saw Haley’s feet in our bedroom at the end of the hall. I could tell that was lying on the floor, just as Hotch warned me, yet I still wasn’t prepared for it. Only one shoe was still on her feet, the other one neglected on the side. Foyet had… He wasn’t known for messing with the bodies afterwards, but this was different. He wanted this to hurt as badly as it could. He took every precaution to ensure that he would win. Messing with Haley’s body after she was dead… That was just senseless and cruel. It didn’t bring him any direct pleasure. What did it for him was that it would hurt Hotch the most.

As I practically limped up to the bedroom, I saw that Hotch was already on the floor with Morgan, cradling Haley’s dead body in his arms and sobbing into her shoulder. Morgan had a hand on Hotch’s other shoulder to try and comfort him, but it wasn’t doing any good as Hotch continued to cry and cry. I had never seen him like that. I had never seen him so out of control, so broken. I had seen him cry before, of course, but this was different. This was watching his heart break over and over again as he realized that he wasn’t in a nightmare, that this was real life, that he had really lost her, for good this time.

Morgan stood and met me in the doorway, “Y/N—”

He was trying to stop me from going in and seeing more, but I had to know. I had to see. I had to be with him. So I pushed by. Morgan let me pass, but I didn’t make it very far into the room.

One. Two. Three. They rang again as I saw all the blood.

One. Two. Three. I saw the bullet holes in her chest and neck.

One. Two. Three. I saw an engagement ring on her finger.

I turned to Morgan and covered my mouth to stop to myself from throwing up everywhere. He caught me and held me in his arms as I started sobbing again.

Foyet always liked to take something from his victims and put them on the next. It was his signature. When he hurt Morgan, he took his credentials, then left them on Hotch when he was stabbed and taken to the hospital. Hotch told me that Foyet had specifically gone looking for the engagement ring he was planning on giving me, and we all knew that it was going to be placed on his next victim— but I didn’t find any ring on Sam, considering Foyet had cut his fingers off.

When I saw Haley, though, I suddenly knew why.

She wouldn’t have been wearing an engagement ring— she wouldn’t have even been wearing her old wedding ring. Foyet took the ring from Hotch because he knew he was going to kill Haley. He knew that he wanted this to be his grand finale, and he wanted to make sure it hurt like a bitch. He wanted to prove to Hotch that this was all somehow his own fault. If he didn’t divorce Haley, this wouldn’t have happened. If he didn’t turn down Foyet’s offer, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had been just a few minutes quicker getting to the house, this wouldn’t have happened. Hotch let Haley down and Foyet rubbed it in his face by not only taking Haley away from him, but the joy that came from buying that ring for me and the excitement of getting to propose to me one day with that very ring. Foyet knew that I wouldn’t want that ring anymore. He knew that Hotch wouldn’t want to even tear it off of Haley’s finger. He took Haley away, and he took away something that was important for us moving on.

He won in every way.

One. Two. Three.

Strauss stared at me silently. There were no words. There was nothing she could say to me that would matter, and she knew it. Even if she could give her condolences, I wouldn’t accept them from her. She didn’t care about me, or Hotch, or the team, or even Haley or Jack. Yet she still couldn’t even find the words to conclude our interview. All she could do was silently turn off the tape recorder between us and watch as I left the room.

As I stepped into the hallway, I let out the breath I had been holding in my chest for that entire interview. I put my hands on my knees and tried to focus on the marble floor in order to ground myself. Hotch approached me, his shoes sneaking into my field of view. I stood up straight and sighed.

“I never want to talk about it again. Ever,” I told him.

He nodded understandingly. The door opened again and Strauss told us that she was ready to speak with Hotch before the rest of the committee would show up to make the final decision about whether or not he would get to keep his job at the FBI. Hotch thanked her for letting him know and asked if we could have another moment alone. She smiled lightly and retreated back into the room.

We stared at each other again, just like we had before I went into the conference room to endure that Hell. Understandably, he was the nervous one now. He was probably going through the motions, too. He wanted me to go with him, he wanted me to hold him, he wanted me to be there as a constant reassurance that everything was going to be alright— that I was alright. He wanted to know that, no matter what, I wouldn’t leave him, that he hadn’t failed me, that I was safe and I was his. He lost one love, he couldn't afford to lose me, too.

“I love you,” I told him when we were alone again. “Whatever happens… I love you…”

Hotch cupped my cheek with one of his palms, and I pressed into his touch. “I love you, too.” He kissed my forehead, but when he pulled away, I leaned up to kiss his lips. We pressed into each other’s touch gently. I didn’t want to hurt him, and he didn’t want to hurt me, but we needed to feel the softness of each other’s lips, and we desperately needed the comfort of our kisses. “You’ll stay with Jack?” I nodded and felt tears welling up in my eyes again. “Don’t cry. Please,” he quietly begged.

“I’m trying,” I croaked. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.” He wiped away the tear on my cheek that managed to escape me. Before it could get worse, I turned away from Hotch’s touch and hid my face from him. “I’ll be with Jack when you’re done.”

Hotch stepped around me before he could break, too. I stood in the hallway as he entered the conference room, leaving me all alone. I let out an audible sob and started crying again. It was hard enough for me to go through that interview without shedding a tear… I couldn’t imagine the struggle Hotch was going to face over the next hour. And he was going to be all alone. All I could do was hear the way he cried that day replaying over and over again in my mind. I had never heard anyone sound that distraught in my life. It was probably even worse than hearing the gunshots. Whenever my ears weren’t ringing with the sound of Foyet’s weapon firing, it was echoing Hotch’s screams, and I could still feel it on my shoulder every time I thought about it.

“Hey, sunshine,” Morgan cooed from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I sucked in a shaky breath before wiping my eyes and turning around. When I saw him and the rest of the team standing there, Jack in JJ’s arms, I tried to act like I hadn’t just broken down by forcing a smile on my face so that Jack couldn’t worry about me.

“Hey, there, little man,” I said to Jack as JJ handed him over to me. He was getting so darn big; it was hard to hold him when I hardly had enough energy to stand up straight. Jack hid his face in the crook of my neck, just like he had when I pulled him out of the chest in our office. I felt the tears start to pour again, even though I was trying so hard to make it stop. “I love you…” I whispered to him, hardly making it to the end of what I really wanted to say. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, playing with my hair with his fingers as he said it.

I looked over at Emily and saw that she had finally broken. I held out the arm I could afford to let go of Jack with, offering the team the hug I desperately needed. Emily was the one who hugged me and Jack, Morgan hugging me and her, Garcia hugging him and Jack, and so on.

“I love you guys.”

--------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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jetaime-jespere · 4 years ago

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hello, just wanted to say i’m loving reading all your thoughts on the potential revival! i’ve been a fan for years now as well, and hotchniss was my 12 year old self’s first ship so they hold a special place in my heart - i completely understand the feeling of not wanting to be let down again!

part of me doesn’t want to get too excited until we have a full confirmation of what’s happening and even then, i feel like the writers have done their fair share of hinting at them having something but then never following through...

all of that aside though, part of me’s also really hopeful - like you’ve said, i do think it would be a really perfect way to give their storylines some closure and give their characters the happiness they deserve. but knowing cm the chances of any of this happening is slim. cry :(

also i fully agree with wanting to see some reference to their previous little ‘things’ - i always think about that moment in season 5 (i forget the episode, but it’s when morgan’s acting unit chief and hotch takes on the unsub without backup) and we get that little flirty ‘what?’ ‘nothing...’ moment. i know it’s an odd one to pick, but i’ve always wondered why the writers included it - it always seemed like a weird moment to put in unless you were actually going for the flirting angle. sooo.... 👀

anyways sorry for the ridiculously long ask, i just have a lot of feelings about this and i’m absolutely living for your commentary!

Hi! 🙂 First, thank you so much - it’s been fun to think about the possibilities, because they also hold a very special place in my heart too. I loved them back when S5 aired on TV and when Paget left in s6 I was devastated, and then all over again a year later. (this is why I have trust issues.) Anyway! - Oh, yes. I completely agree. The writers definitely teased it for years only to fail miserably at delivering with anything. I don’t know about you, but I do think Hotchniss was going to be endgame in the s3-s5 days because some of the little things you mentioned - the episode is The Eyes Have It, I believe - I also love that moment : ) and I agree - what was the point if they weren’t going that route, because that was such a random scene to include. Definitely not odd at all - there have been others along the way - I mean, don’t even get me started on the divorce papers from s3, his reaction during Minimal Loss in s4, the hospital scenes in s5. It all made sense, and those are the moments I would love to see addressed in the revival - because it was hinted at forever! And even after TG left, Emily was the one Scratch went after, the one who refused to give up anything. I don’t want to get my hopes up at all, because CM has disappointed me a few too many times and I know better. But, I do want them to get their happy moment. Also let’s not forget TG made a whole cameo about Hotchniss. And ask away, anytime! I could discuss these two for days and I love hearing what others have to say! Thank you - I love all of your thoughts, and agree with everything you said!

#asks #hotchniss

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onthepageoftears · 4 years ago

Text

Kill Your Darlings Ch. 16 (Jaskier x Assassin!Reader) || Witcher

a/n: Hey everyone. To be honest, I feel kind of weird posting this. I contemplated if I should post this chapter this week for a while, but ultimately decided to do so (which…is how you’re reading this). If you haven’t already seen, I’ve reblogged some sources regarding black lives matter and what you can do to help. Still, I want to put some resources in this post as well. This website (linked here) has good places to educate yourself, donate, and sign petitions. If you can’t donate, you can watch videos like these (here, here, and here) with your adblocker off, and all of the ad money will go to blm organizations. I really encourage you to contribute in some way — anything helps.

As always, enjoy the chapter, and stay safe out there if you plan on protesting!

Your comments and feedback are always encouraged and mean a lot to me!

Summary: Burying the past won’t keep it there forever.

Warnings: mentions of blood/death/murder/killing, gore, angsty reflections lol, spoilers for season 1 ep 1, language

Words: 3,050

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

Jaskier was probably the fussiest person you’d ever met.

You’d known it before, of course. He was particular about what taverns you stayed in, pouting when you and Geralt chose one he didn’t like. Despite his messiness with clothes, he was selective on what he actually wore, what doublets went with what trousers, and so on. But even with all his fussiness, you never thought he would be fussy over someone else. Let alone, you.

As you gathered your things for the next journey, he stood beside you like your own shadow, making sure you didn’t fall or sway or breathe slightly out of rhythm. You almost punched him in the face when he offered to put your knives away for you, when the sheaths were already secure on your body. He got the hint when you sent him a simple, but effective, glare.

To be fair, he was the one who tended your wounds, so he saw how much damage had been done. But he didn’t realize it was nothing you hadn’t felt before, and it certainly wasn’t something that was going to stop you. Still, he was especially cautious after you explained that you needed to go after the same bandit group that took Lilla (at least, from what you’d assumed). You tried to argue that it would not only be another adventure for his songs, but it would clear up why this person — Hotch — was after him.

Sure, Jaskier and your still-fresh wounds couldn’t stop you…but they could slow you down. Jaskier insisted you all wait for the morning to go out again, leaving you to groan in frustration when Geralt agreed. You grumbled to yourself as you threw your stuff by the door, to be ready for the early morning traveling. You didn’t bother hiding your annoyance as Jaskier changed your bandages for you and practically scolded you to get some sleep. But despite your irritation and unrest, eventually, you did.

—

You were sitting in the grass, under the stars. Everything was quiet. Calm.

“They shine brighter when you’re out here to look at them.” You turned your head, smiling at the playful grin on your father’s face. “I’m serious,” he said, turning back to the sky. “They’re here for you.”

You giggled, and though you knew it wasn’t true, you let it slide. But instead of looking at the stars, your eyes stayed on your father, whose own eyes widened in — fear?

You watched as his mouth opened and a scream spilled out, making you whip your head back towards the sky.

You gasped at the sight. The stars were falling, plummeting, towards you. You instinctively lifted your arms to cover your face, a shriek leaving your lips. But after a few moments, nothing happened. When you looked out from behind your arms, the stars were gone. And so was your father.

You sat up in the grass, shifting your gaze to the field around you. You were in your childhood village, but everything was gone. There was only one house a good distance away — it was yours. And your father was walking into it with a knife in his hand.

“No,” you whispered, your hand moving to one of your sheaths. Realizing he must have taken your knife, you pushed yourself off the ground and began running towards the house, sprinting, its proximity seeming to get further and further the closer you got.

You pushed forward, eventually making it to the door. You opened it slowly, blinking in surprise when you noticed Lilla standing, her doll clutched in her hands, eyes wide in fear.

You turned your gaze to the side. You saw your father and mother, face down in their own blood. It was a scene you had imagined before — but this time, Rauf’s body was with them. His lifeless eyes stared back at you, mouth slightly ajar in surprise.

You tore your eyes away from him, only then noticing another body. A loud cry from Lilla made you realize it was Toby.

Rushing in front of Lilla to block her view, you gripped her shoulders in your hands, “Lilla, we have to go.” Not waiting for her to respond, you picked her up and ran out of the house, where the field was no longer a field, and rather the road to Novigrad. You didn’t hesitate as you sprinted in the direction of Novigrad’s gates.

It was when you got to the gates that you realized the little girl you had been holding had disappeared. You looked around, eyes wide in bewilderment.

“Y/N.”

You snapped your eyes back to the gates — there, was Jaskier. Only it wasn’t just him. Joneta stood, her arm wrapped tightly around Jaskier’s neck, holding him to her body. She held a knife in the other hand, against his throat. But it wasn’t just a knife. It was yours.

Her lips curled into a devious snarl, “I’ll never stop. And you shouldn’t either.”

You jumped forward,“No!” Somehow, you grabbed Joneta away from Jaskier, pulling her to your own chest. With one swift motion, you took the knife from her hand and slid it across her throat, the sound of her chokes echoing in the night.

Only it wasn’t her chokes. The sound was deeper, like—

You turned the person around, eyes widening when you realized it was Jaskier. It was Jaskier whose throat was slit. It was Jaskier that you killed.

Your knife clattered to the ground. “No.”

—

Your eyes shot open as you woke up to the recently rising sun pouring through the windows, and Jaskier gently strumming his lute.

You sighed in relief as you got up — you hadn’t dreamt that vividly in a while. You knew none of it was real, or course, but seeing Jaskier alive and well made your heart slow to a normal pace. It didn’t stop your frustration that he let you sleep in when you should have been on the road already, but the snide remarks you were going to make died on your tongue when you stood, pain shooting up your leg as a reminder of the night before.

It was a slow morning, slower than any of the others you had spent with Geralt and Jaskier. It was mostly your fault — you were forced to limp to avoid the pain of your injuries. If Jaskier hadn’t insisted on helping you walk, it might’ve taken a lot longer just to get to your horses.

Right — horses. Roach was no longer a lone stallion — with your still healing leg and the extra weight of Joneta’s body, you needed to get another horse. Jaskier didn’t even complain about using most of his saved coin on the steed, but he did insist on getting to ride it with you.

After you got out of the city of Novigrad, Geralt followed behind you, which you were glad for. You didn’t need to see Joneta’s lifeless body on the back of his horse, even if it was wrapped in sheets.

And for once, you were glad for Jaskier’s distractive company.

“So, where were you thinking?” He practically whispered in your ear as he sat behind you, his voice sending tingles along your skin. You had to force back a shudder, trying to focus on holding your new horses’ reigns — Buttercup, you and Jaskier decided upon. Well, mostly Jaskier. He insisted on having the final say for the name, and you didn’t blame him — especially since he paid for it. And although Buttercup wasn’t exactly…an audacious sounding name, it had a nice ring to it.

You sighed at the bard’s question, “For?”

“Burying Joneta.”

Your body went stiff. In his presence and once infuriating antics, you were able to push the real situation out of your head — you were able to relax, even if it was just for a moment. But in reality, you were not only on your way to bury the friend that you killed yourself, but also towards a bandit camp that you had no official plan for invading.

But recently, it didn’t seem like you had a plan for anything.

You sighed, letting your shoulders drop once more, “Somewhere in the forest. We’ll find it on the way, I’m sure.”

Jaskier breathed in, as if choosing his words carefully. “But…there’s nowhere special? Like…a place you two would hang out, or…gossip about all the…ravishing targets you had to kill at the blade of your own knives?”

Blade of your own knives. You shook the thought away, simultaneously ignoring the inevitable smile that was probably on Jaskier’s face. “No. We didn’t…do things like that.”

“What did you do?” He said after a moment, his voice softer.

You turned your head slightly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes bore into the side of your face, making you turn back to the road ahead of you.

“We killed,” you said simply, clenching your jaw. And Jaskier didn’t respond.

—

“Should we start?”

Jaskier’s voice didn’t faze you. You were staring at the body on the ground — Joneta’s body. It was wrapped in sheets — probably a lot of them, since you didn’t see any blood seeping through.

The three of you made it to a spot in the forest, where there was a good area to bury a body. It sounded strange to say, but it really was. You hadn’t been looking for a particular spot, but the flowers in the area made you stop Geralt and slide off Buttercup, walking further into the trees. Which was where you found this place. It was a smallish area, big enough for the grave you inevitably had to dig, with trees distant enough and in a strangely circular formation. The flowers around the area were a plus, so you tied up the horses and walked over.

And now you were standing there, with a shovel that somehow made its way into your hand, looking down at the spot Joneta’s body would lay. Forever.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You turned away from Joneta’s body, focusing on Jaskier’s concerned eyes. You blinked, finally registering his question, “Oh. Um. No.”

Jaskier frowned, “No?”

“I…need to do this alone.”

Jaskier stepped forward, gesturing to the bandage wrapped tightly around your thigh, “But your leg—“

“I’ll help dig. For a bit.” You were surprised to hear Geralt’s voice, his eyes catching your own when you turned to him. He looked back to Jaskier, nodding to where Buttercup and Roach were tied up, “You go watch the horses.”

Jaskier looked from you to Geralt, his face contorted in confusion. He looked like he wanted to stay, to help, but you shook your head. He slammed his mouth shut, nodding his head slowly.

“Okay. I’ll be…over there.” You watched the bard go, looking back to Geralt only when Jaskier disappeared behind the trees. The witcher’s golden eyes were on yours, making you take a deep breath.

He sent you a nod.

And then you started digging.

It wasn’t easy with your leg. Though you weren’t sure why Geralt stayed, you were glad he did. He was clearly making more progress than you, digging at a speed that could only be explained by his Witcher strength. Whatever that meant.

The two of you worked quietly, only sending each other slight nods or glances as communication. It was refreshing, to hear only the sound of the shovels digging into the dirt, the birds flying from tree to tree, the leaves swaying in the wind. And, of course, Jaskier’s distant singing.

Geralt helped you lower Joneta’s body into the grave, surprising you by how gently he lay it down onto the dirt. He climbed out of the hole wordlessly, only grunting as he stood up. He sent you a curt nod and left you to cover it up. You watched him go until he disappeared past the trees where the horses were, waiting until the very last second to let out a long, quiet sigh.

After a moment, you turned back around. You couldn’t help the pain that formed in your chest as you stepped forward, making yourself look down into the grave.

—

The square was crowded with people, as it usually was. Rauf was on business recruiting people into the fellowship, leaving you to entertain yourself for the day. The best way to do that was to watch people swarm the stands and buy useless items, all while sharpening the knife Rauf finally trusted you with having.

“Hey.”

You didn’t look up. Instead, you focused on the blade in your hands, letting its steel reflect sun rays into your eyes.

“I said, hey.” The person kicked your foot. You scrunched your nose, squinting at the girl who dared bother you.

Her expression was nothing more than bored, “Your uncle told me to find you.” She waited for you to respond. When you didn’t, she rolled her eyes. “Rauf.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t tell me.” She waited a moment, then sat down next to you. “But when I was eavesdropping, he said he wants you to have friends.”

“Psh. I don’t have friends,” you said simply, turning away from the girl beside you.

“That makes two of us.”

—

You tentatively wiped a tear that fell down your face, not bothering to worry about the dirt covering your hands. At this point, it felt like dirt was all you saw. It was all over the ground, sure, and it was now fully covering the place where Joneta’s body was buried — but it was also all over your hands, arms, and now, probably your face too.

You held your hands out in front of you, focusing on the way the dirt was caked under your fingernails. The soil reminded you of blood — Joneta’s blood, how it was covering your nails, your skin, your clothes.

Despite the urge to clean the dirt off, you let your hands fall into your lap and looked back ahead.

“People used to hate witchers.”

You were startled by the voice next to you. Somehow, Geralt managed to walk over and stand beside you without you noticing. He didn’t bother acknowledging the way you hastily wiped the tears from your face, instead sitting down beside you with a huff, “They’d spit when I walked into a room. Stoned me when I entered a village.”

You blinked, still taken aback by the witcher’s presence aside you. “But now they don’t.”

“No.” He turned to you with a hard gaze, “Ever heard of the Butcher of Blavikan?”

“Only stories,” You murmured. The Butcher of Blavikan was the talk of the guild for a while, but you never really paid much attention. But after a second, your eyes widened with realization. “That was you?”

Geralt only nodded. He looked ahead, his eyes clouding with regret, “I hurt someone. Someone who I thought could have redeemed herself. Could have walked away from the destruction she was causing.”

You cast your eyes downwards, back to the dirt covered ground. You swallowed the lump in your throat, “How did you…you know. Turn it around?”

“Jaskier.”

“Jas—“ You frowned, turning to the witcher with an astonished expression. “What?”

“Jaskier wrote a song.”

You blinked, “He…wrote a song?”

“As bards do.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips, “The coin one.”

He nodded.

You shook your head, astounded by your own ignorance. You had heard the song many times since being with the two, but never listened to it. Knowing Jaskier, he definitely fibbed the stories he went on, or reflected on, but still. You’d have to really listen to the lyrics the next time he played it.

Next time.

Would there be a next time? If all this was over — no, when — where did that leave you? Would you go back to your normal assignments? Travel and hope you would find jobs on notice boards, like a witcher?

Geralt’s voice broke through your thoughts. “It’s never easy to kill one of your own.”

One of your own. You turned to him, “Had much experience?”

“Too much.” He waited a moment before continuing. “The right choices are often the hardest. But the hardest choices…you often don’t know if they’re right.”

You watched him for a second, a smirk forming on your face before you could help it. You snorted, “You sound like a...stubbornly wise wizard.”

Geralt only chuckled. You squinted your eyes at him, an amused smile falling on your face. It was strange to see him acting this way — showing emotion. It was almost like…he trusted you.

You scoffed at the thought, making him turn to you with a questioning gaze. You shook your head, “Just thinking about when we first met. When you tried following me to my guild.”

His face went back to being serious, “I trust you now."

You laughed louder this time, “Says the person who followed me again.” Geralt’s eyes widened like he’d been caught redhanded. You’d only found out that Geralt had followed you to your new guild this morning, when Jaskier let it slip. It made sense why Geralt hadn’t been at the inn when...Joneta happened. At the witcher’s frown, you held back a smile and jutted your head behind you, where the very bard was still out of sight.

Geralt grunted, “Bard can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“And you can’t keep your witchery nose out of other people’s business.”

Geralt paused, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. As quickly as the surprise was there, it was overtaken by a smug smile. “Jaskier is getting to you.”

You smirked and shook your head. In more ways than one.

“I do trust you now,” he said once the smiles fell from your faces. You turned away from him, back to the grave in front of you.

“I know.” A sigh escaped your lips as something clenched at your heart. You placed a hand on the dirt in front of you and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and out before opening them again. Joneta’s body may be here, but she would always be with you. Like Geralt’s past was never forgotten, was immortalized in countless songs, you would always remember your own. And you’d have to live with it.

You stood up off the ground, looking down at the witcher with a determined frown, “Now let’s go take down this fucking bandit camp.”

———————————————————————————————————

Lots more Geralt in this chapter, hope y’all enjoyed! Stay safe as always :)

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 5 years ago

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The Masterlist of Masterlists

Just a collection of all my works :D

Supernatural:

Destiel:

All For A Buck - Dean and Cas must work together to raise the newest addition to the Winchester family, and it might just end up brining them together in the end.

A Magic Kingdom Love - “An AU where Dean and Cas are both working for Disney and have been cast as the very first gay princes. And at first they hate each other but it’s hard to pretend you’re in love all day for sweet, shy kids, and then not make out under the bridge of the magic kingdom castle.”

Mountain High - Suddenly taken from his own home and flown god knows where in the dark, Dean Winchester finds himself thrown into something he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams.

Pas De Deux - Dean is a closeted ballet dancer, and Cas is playing the Nutcracker Prince in the Kansas State Ballet. When the ballet loses their Clara and Cas confronts Dean about taking the part along side him, will he be able to put aside his fears and let everyone know who he really is? All to help the man of his dreams?

Screw It, I Love You - This is based of this post I saw the other day, find it HERE. It’s about Cas being newly human and Dean leaving him reminder notes all over the bunker.

Slash Fiction (part 1 of series) - Following the boys as they continue their journey, saving people, hunting things, the family business. This trip finds them in Kalamazoo, Michigan, at the famous Henderson Castle. With the help of on old friend and the return of a beloved character, the boys find themselves facing something they have never faced before, and have to find a way to stop it once and for all, with a little improvisation.

So Much for Movie Night - The boys finally get a night off from hunting, and Sam's planned solo movie night unfortunately does not go at all how he had hoped it would.

Sounds of Someday (part 1 of series) - Sam was dead, Cas was lost forever, and Dean’s entire world had been turned upside down in less than an instant. He was alone, again, a typical Winchester ending, but god damn if that was how he was going to leave it. He was going to get Sam back, he was going to get Cas back, and he was going to fix everything that had fallen apart, and now he was going to do it all with twin babies and the king of hell back on his side. Season sixteen… here we go.

That We Do - Dean and Cas meet at a civil war reenactment when Dean is forced to go for his father's birthday. Despite Dean's original sour attitude about the idea, he finds something there that was definitely worth going for.

The Ever Handsome and Always Charming Dean Winchester - A perfectly simple Dean and Cas wedding!

The Nual’ Family Onion - Dean had lived in Lawrence, Kansas his entire life. Born and raised. In his twenty-six years in the beautiful city, he lived a wonderful life surrounded by the amazing people who lived there, many of them becoming family over the years. After high school, he started working for his uncle Bobby at his mechanics shop and fell into a comfortable routine. He still lived at home with his parents, John and Mary Winchester, and for the foreseeable future, Dean had no intentions of changing that. Until he saw him.

The Thing About Blind Dates - Dean Winchester was perfectly happy with his life. He lived alone, though most days his house was filled with the accompaniment of his little brother and his brother’s new boyfriend, and that suited Dean just fine.But even now, as Dean sat back against the couch, watching the newest season of Animal Kingdom, cold beer in hand while Sam and Gabe cuddled next to him, he couldn’t really say he was anything but satisfied. That is… until Sam and Gabe decided he wasn’t.

Wish You Were Here - Sam’s got a date, Cas is fixing Heaven, and Dean Winchester is sitting miserably in his motel room, alone. So he decides to see if Cas wants to have a little fun over the phone.

****************

Lost

Jawyer:

Lost in a Dream - Jack Shephard was never one to believe in psychics, or fortune telling, or visions of the future. But when he starts dreaming of flight 815 crash landing on an unknown island, and all the events that follow, he cant help but start to wonder if maybe he should start believing. Especially when his flight home turns into just the nightmare he had worried it would. Though, this time around, a few things are very different, or rather a few people.

****************

Star Trek:

Mckirk:

Clans - Jim goes on his usual hunt and everything's going fine, or so he thinks. Until things take an unexpected turn and he finds himself the house guest of a group of people he thought to be extinct. Now, Jim has to decide what his next move will be, doing what he knows is right by his family, or only thinking of himself and possibly putting his entire family in danger.

Lost in Translation - “Attention citizens. This is the crew of the Enterprise asking for your aid. On Stardate 2264.78 a shuttle manned by our captain and fourteen cadets was ambushed by an unknown source and chased out of sight of our ship and into open space. Those cadets as well as our captain, James Tiberius Kirk, are still missing. We are asking anyone with any information on their whereabouts, or regarding the attack, to please contact the Enterprise immediately. Our family would appreciate any assistance you can give.”

Spirk:

Maiden Voyage (part 1 of series) - "Jim's past was just that, his past, or so he thought. He had made it through to graduation and only had six months of placement standing between him and his captains chair, but he never thought he would see her again. He thought he was past this, past her, now what was he supposed to do? Could they really just go back to the way things were, will placement with her even be bearable, will the crew be able to stand together and face their newest foe and live to tell the tale? Jim could only hope, because right now that's about all he’s got."

****************

Avengers:

Stucky:

Second Chances - This is sort of an endgame fix, with a dash of Stucky. The story takes place after Thanos has been defeated, the war won, and the world returned back to its natural order. Standing on the battlefield, relieved and thankful that it was all finally over and they could rest. But in their moment of peace, Steve and Bucky suddenly find themselves in a very tricky situation, one they definitely have not been trained to handle.

The Way We Were Suppose To Be - Two years after defeating Thanos, Steve finds himself faced with a harsh reality. Because of his decision to stay in the past with Peggy and finally give himself the life he thought he had always wanted, Nick Fury returns to face him with a daunting truth. With the world’s timeline in disarray, it’s up to Steve to return to the past and restore the world to its natural order. Unfortunately it means that the all American hero has to sacrifice his heart and soul to save the world once again. And although Steve thinks that his one chance at a happy life had passed, who knows what the new future holds, perhaps… everything he had been searching for was right there all along.

Steve Rogers X OFC

Storm (part 1 of series) - The avengers have just defeated Ultron, a much needed victory for the weary team, but another storm is coming their way. A new member joins the team and has some very unexpected effects on everyone, especially the Captain himself, Steve Rogers.Secrets are revealed, scars revisited, and new wounds formed as they battle one of their toughest and most personal battles yet. All they can do is hope this wont be their breaking point…

****************

Final Fantasy:

Noctis x OFC:

At Lucis End (part 1 of series) - A treaty. A light at the end of the tunnel that King Regis had been staring down for years. A proposal. A wedding that stands to save the lands. A betrayal. That could tear it all down. And a love. So strong yet so torn.The war between Lucis and Niflheim could come to an end, but much will have to be sacrificed along the way. And in the end, would it even be enough? Would the loss of life, love, and family be enough to save the people of Lucis? Or will it all come crumbling down in the end?

****************

CSI:

Greg x Nick:

Love Undercover - In part one of this series, Nick and Greg get sent on a special undercover mission by Grissom and Brass, an undercover mission as a couple at an all exclusive couples resort. Their mission is to find their targets and keep them safe while maintaining the illusion that they are a happily married couple, but they may end up finding more then they bargained for while at Lovers Lane Resort.

****************

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid x Aaron Hotchner:

I Loved Him... Once - A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys. In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

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bucky-smiles · 7 years ago

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Just Let Me Explain

Throwback to season 6 when JJ had to declare that Emily was dead except in my version, it’s going to be the reader declaring Emily dead. I know that I am in no way original with this concept so I’m going to make it original and say that the reader and Spencer are already in a relationship when this happens. This entire thing is going to range from the moment of declaration to the case in Oklahoma when Reid is being the passive aggressive bean that he is.

I didn’t realize how long this was, sorry. It legit took my two hours and once I started typing, I just lost all track of time. Also don’t get mad at me for this thing bc it’s highkey just ajdfrenfhncghalf if you get what I mean. It’s two in the morning soooooo. I think Hotch is slightly OOC in this but he’s barely mentioned so it cancels out :3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Emily’s death, angst, mentions of drug use, mentions of blood

I hope y’all enjoy my second one shot :)

(I couldn’t find that gif of him doing the whole ‘watchu gon do about it’ gesture to JJ so enjoy this cute thing. GIF CREDS TO THE OWNER :))

You knew this was wrong.

Right away when Hotch came to you with the orders, you knew that this wasn’t going to end well. But when you and Spencer had first got together 8 months ago, you both swore that your relationship wouldn’t get in the way of work and Hotch was using that to make sure you did exactly as you were ordered. So of course, being the perfect agent that you are, you put on your sad look and let your eyes well up with tears as you entered the waiting room where your team, including your boyfriend, sat. They all rose at the sight of you and Spencer immediately knew that something was wrong, “Y/N?” His voice was quiet as he waited for you to deliver the news.

You cleared your throat a little as you glanced at him and then at the rest of the team, “She never made it off the table.” You couldn’t give yourself away and you knew that. So you never kept your eyes in one place for too long, you observed and felt guilt at seeing how everyone believed you. It broke your heart to see the tears and reaction of your team- your family. But a job was a job and you knew that.

When Spencer made a move for the door, you instinctively grabbed him arm with a gentle touch, “Spence...” You couldn’t say more.. You knew that your voice would betray you if you did. Your heart nearly shattered upon hearing his next words.

“I never got a chance to say goodbye.”

You let out a quiet breath and pulled the man you love close to you. It was a way to comfort him over the ‘loss’ of a friend and a way to assuage your growing guilt. You didn’t sign up to see your boyfriend break down... That wasn’t part of the job description.

When the two of you arrived to the apartment you both share, you had an arm around his waist as a sign of support and when you let go to close the apartment door behind you, Spencer left your grasp and moved to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. A small sigh escaped your lips as you followed behind him. Seeing him like this was pure torture and as of now, you’d do anything to make him feel better.

A Few Weeks Later:

“I just.. If we’d been quicker to find her, she’d probably still be alive right now.”

You angle your head so that you’re looking at Spencer. It’d been a few weeks since the lie had been told and the guilt had yet to go away. Spencer still had so much regret in his heart and was coming up with all of these situations in which she would’ve survived. They usually always came up when the two of you were in bed. Tonight was no different and seeing him like this made you want to tell him everything, but you made Hotch a promise and telling him could compromise Emily’s situation. You lean onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow while using your free hand to cup his cheek, “Don’t do that to yourself, Spencer.. What happened happened and no what if situation can bring her back.. No matter how much we want it.” You remained as quiet as you could, your voice not going above a quiet tone. You tried being comforting but all you could hear was your guilt and that gave you a feeling that had you sick to your stomach.

“I miss her so much, Y/N. Every time we go into the office and pass by her portrait I-” He cuts himself off, his voice breaking at the end as he begins crying once more.

You lay down again, bringing him to your chest as you hug him tightly. You were crying too because seeing him like his tore you apart piece by piece. “I miss her too, Spence.” You tried comforting him the best you could, whispering quiet nothings into his ear, rubbing his back gently, letting him soak your nightshirt with his tears. Eventually, he fell asleep but you were there wide awake, wondering what you’d gotten yourself into and how this was going to change everything once the truth came out.

Everyday when the two of you entered the BAU building, you’d both stop in front of her portrait and have a quiet moment. You could feel the judgement coming from Emily’s eyes as you watched her unmoving face. Time would pass and you’d take Spencer’s hand, leading him to the Bullpen before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and going to your own desk. You’d offer small smiles to your team members and when case debriefing would happen, you’d be sure to sit by Spencer and hold his hand under the table. The guilt had slowly began going away. The special trick was repeating a phrase like a mantra until you believed it, Emily is dead and whatever you’re doing is for the sake of the team. They’ll understand if the truth ever comes out. Oh, if only you were right.

The Reveal:

You were walking down the hallway when Hotch approached you. His beard was still a look you were getting used to and you offered a small smile to him as he approached you. 10 weeks and your guilt had transformed into a dull throb that you’d gotten used to over time. The circumstances had made the pain more stabbing but nonetheless, you were toughing through it one step at a time. Your small smile dropped, of course, when Hotch told you it was time.

Time for the reveal. Time for the team to find out they’d been lied to. Time for them to find out that you lied to them.

When you stood by Hotch’s side with your hand clasped behind your back, you kept your eyes trained straight ahead. Never once did you look at any single member of your team. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you when Hotch was talking and you could practically hear the hurt and betrayal come out of him when the truth was revealed. But of course, that guilt was forgotten when Emily was seen standing at the doorway.

When the hugs and reunion were done, you grabbed Spencer’s hand, holding him in his spot before whispering, “Let me explain, Spence..” He pulled away at your words, going to the seat in between of JJ and Derek. You gulped a little, swallowing your tears as you sat at the opposite side of the table, glancing at him on occasion with the hope that he’d look at you.

It didn’t work.

The two of you worked the rest of the case involving Declan and Doyle like you did any other, but it wasn’t the same because Spencer only interacted with you when absolutely necessary.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. But you pushed through it for the sake of the child whose life was in danger.

Sadly, like when all cases end, the two of you went home. Spencer had left the building only moments before you, but by the time you reached the parking garage, he’d driven right past you without even glancing at you. Thankfully, you were able to get a ride with Emily who dropped you off home. When you entered the apartment, the lights were out and you slowly made your way to your’s and Spencer’s bedroom. He wasn’t there. Quickly, you pulled out your phone and texted JJ to ask if she had any knowledge of his whereabouts.

Y/N: Is he with you?

JJ: Yeah, he’s here. He brought his go-bag and it’s packed for quite a bit of time.

The text caused tears to well up in your eyes and you quickly typed out a response,

Y/N: Take care of him, please..

JJ: I’ve got him, don’t worry.

You accepted what you had and proceeded to prepare for bed. It was hard to get to sleep, but cuddling with one of Spencer’s pillows gave you the comfort you needed and helped you get a couple of hours.

The Oklahoma Case:

Working with Spencer the past couple of days has been hell.

You take the bus to work and you always try to initiate some sort of conversation with him. But he ignores you and simply brushes past you to get to his desk. When Garcia was doing the briefing of the latest case, you took the seat by him and he simply moved from his current seat to a different, open one. You let your head hang in shame for a few minutes, calming down before looking up at Garcia expectantly.

On the jet, you sat by Emily who was obviously trying to make you feel better. She felt some guilt to because the problems that were occurring were partially because of her. You made her promise not to blame herself and when Hotch paired you and Spencer to go to the abduction site, you wanted to melt into your seat.

The tension between you two was so thick at the abduction site that it could’ve been cut through with a knife. Any suggestion you had was immediately met by a passive aggressive comment from Spencer.

Spencer started off as the two of you approached the bus stop, “So, Beth got off the bus here and headed northwest toward class.” He let his hands do part of the talking as he pointed towards the bus stop and then towards northwest.

Attempting to be useful, you pitched in, “It’s amazing that no one saw her abduction.”

Reid simply shrugged and spoke with a high level of bitterness in his tone, “Emily was buried six feet under and wound up in Paris, so I guess anything is possible, right?” You stiffened slightly, “Spencer you’ve got to let me ex-”

He cut you off as you tried defending yourself, “You know, maybe our UnSub's a little bit like Bundy and he feigned an injury in order to get her to help him.”

You began speaking again but before one syllable had escaped you lips, Spencer cut you off again, “Maybe he tried another tactic. and was like, ‘Wow, you're really pretty. You should be a model. I can take your photo.’”

You didn’t say anything after that. You simply let him talk out his ideas while watching him with a look of both attentiveness and guilt.

At the station, you finally sucked it up and tried explaining yourself in the office, “Spencer I had to do my job.” You could hear your voice breaking as you began and Spencer was quick to shoot you down.

“Yeah and you did a great job at that. Was it easy? Hm, Y/N? Was it easy for you to lie to me every second that we were together? I cried into your chest for 10 weeks! 10 weeks and you gave me all of that comfort.. Was that a lie too?”

Your eyes widen at that accusation and you’re quick to shake your head, “What?! Of course not, Spence! I love you and every moment I was lying to you was nothing but torture to me! Most of my tears were over what this was doing to you, not that Emily had left us!”

You’d grabbed his arms while you spoke, desperate for him to understand you.. But he was quick to pull away, “How can I know that that wasn’t a lie, hm? It’s all you’ve done for the past 10 weeks. What if I started taking dilaudid again, hm?”

At the mention of the drug that’d nearly ruined Spencer’s life, you stiffened before proceeding to speak with a hesitant tone, “But you didn’t... Right?”

He scoffed a little, shaking his head as he backed out of the room, “No.. But I thought about it.” He walked out before you could apologize and you felt the waterworks coming through.

After the Case:

Thankfully, you didn’t cry when Spencer had left the room. You simply put on a strong face and worked the case like you did any other. You could hear Hotch trying to stand up for you to fix whatever’d happened, but you knew it wasn’t going to work. You thought the same thing when Emily approached Spencer on the plane. Spencer’s back was to you and you were sitting on the opposite end of the plane so you couldn’t figure out what he was saying. Eventually, you gave up at figuring anything out and turned back to your lengthy book, letting your eyes move over each word one by one... You weren’t comprehending anything but the fact that you were doing something helped calm you down.

At Rossi’s house, you didn’t expect him to show up. You were only there for the wine, if you were being completely honest. Truthfully, you’d given up hope that Spencer would forgive you. The thought of him being mad at you made your heart throb so you simply focused all of your energy on watching Rossi as he cooked. When the doorbell rung, you felt your heart drop into your chest. Emily greeted Reid as did the rest of the team but you kept your back to him. Rossi was about to continue when Spencer interrupted once again, “Actually, before you resume, I was wondering if I could talk to Y/N? Alone?”

You felt eyes on you and you simply set down your wine glass. He was going to break up with you officially, you knew it. You offered Prentiss a weak smile as you turned to Spencer, “Lead the way, Spencer..” You followed behind him as he took you a couple of hallways down. You braced yourself for what was to come next, keeping your gaze on your feet. To say that you were shocked when Spencer lifted your face by the chin would be an understatement.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.. I was mad and I didn’t mean half of the things that I was saying,” Spencer’s voice is filled with regret as he speaks, his eyes searching yours for any form of negative reaction. Your reaction was simply priceless as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a tight hug.

“I deserved, it Spencer. I should be the one apologizing to you..” He simply returned your hug tightly, pressing a few gentle kisses to the top of your head as he did.

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N” Was all he mumbled quietly to you and you smiled brightly, whispering the same thing back.

Of course it was Rossi that had to kill your moment, “Are you two lovebirds done there or do we have to continue this without you?”

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