#the way she got recruited too?? the same way garcia did.

[sappy-detective]

when i say i want miu to be apart of DICE i mean it in the way garcia is apart of the FBI

[letarasstuff]

Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 ���Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I��m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,196

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, George Foyet, Multiple Unsubs and Victims

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' story line.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) remebers her first day in the job and recounts all the cases and events that led to the downfall of George Foyet. 

A/N: I decided to say fuck the anxiety of posting and put up my Aaron fanfiction. It’s been gathering dust in my documents folder and I love writing too much to keep it to myself. I’m not sure how many chapters this will have but there’s already 8 chapters all finished up. Soon I’ll be posting ff of all the fanfictions I enjoy also! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

“Good morning, BAU!” I said as I walked through the doors of the elevator and entered the bullpen. I could still remember how it felt the first time I got here.

I walked out of the elevator and made my way to the first office on the left. I was to meet

SSA Aaron Hotchner for an interview to join the BAU. My hands were shaking, and my body was getting warmer by the second. But I remembered my father’s encouraging words. “You’re gonna do great, mia bella.”

Not only was I extremely young, but I also had a lot to live up to. Being the daughter of SSA David Stephen Rossi was no easy task. He was an amazing agent, mentor, and father. He always pushed me to be the best at everything I did. When I started high school, I decided to get a head start on my college studies and applied to dual enrollment. When I graduated I did so with a Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Then, I worked my way to a Master’s in Psychology and Social Work, and a Doctorate in Criminal Justice. At the same time, my father trained me as a profiler. All my life I knew I wanted to be in the FBI, just like him. I was always impressed at all he did and wanted to be just like my hero. The day I told him I had been recruited by the FBI and was set to work in the BAU he said it had been the greatest day of his life.

Now my shaking hand raised to softly knock on the door before me.

“Come in,” someone said from inside. The door softly creaked as I opened and was met by a tall man with dark hair and a shorter blonde woman. “Agent Rossi, welcome.”

“Thank you, it’s an honor to be here.” I smiled and shook Aaron Hotchner’s and Erin Strauss’ hands.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Agent Rossi,” Erin smiled. “Have to say, you have a very impressive curriculum and your disinvolvement in our past interviews and tests have been outstanding.”

I smiled and turned the bracelet on my wrist for comfort.

“I must concur with Chief Strauss,” said Hotch. “I believe you will be a great addition to the BAU team.”

After sharing a few pleasantries and being handed my badge and gun, I was following Hotch to the briefing room to meet the rest of the team. Formally, at least. I had heard everything about them when I spoke with my father. He left no detail out.

“Morning, everyone,” Hotchner started. “I called you all in early today so you could meet the newest addition to the team. This is Agent (y/n) Rossi.”

To the sound of my name most of the mouths in the room dropped.

“Rossi, as in David Rossi?” The slender, messy haired agent said. I could only assume that was Spencer Reid. As my father had described him, a curly mess dressed in vests.

I nodded.

“Rossi, you didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful daughter.” That would be Derek Morgan. The hottie Casanova with a silver tongue.

“I hadn’t?” My father questioned and smirked, knowing full well the answer.

“Well, he’s talked a lot about all of you,” I smiled.

“All good things I hope,” Emily smiled.

“Great things,” I returned the smile. “I could probably make out who is who by the things he’s told me.”

“Go ahead,” Aaron challenged.

“Alright,” I cleared my throat and started going around the table. “Curly hair, vests, analyzing everything I’ve done and said since I walked in… you’re Spencer Reid.”

He smiled brightly.

“Tall, dark, handsome, and a silver tongue. Plus, you checked me out as soon as the doors of the elevator opened… Derek Morgan.”

He smirked.

“Calm, cool, and collected. Quiet but present, inspecting my presence here… you’re Emily Prentiss.”

“She’s good,” Emily muttered to Morgan beside her. I continued.

“And last but not least, bright colors, fun accessories,” I said looking at Garcia. “Even though you’re smiling, you’re not sure about me yet because you don’t like change and are probably going to dig up everything you can on me as soon as you can… Penelope Garcia.”

She stiffened and Derek chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I get it. I do not like change that much either. And here,” I reached my hand into my bag to pull out a rather thick folder. “I’ll save you the work. Background check, complete internet history, social medias, and all the whatnots you would need to build a very extensive profile.”

“Oh, thank you,” she reached out her hand and grabbed the folder, smiling at the floor.

“And well, I already know Agent Hotchner and my father, so they don’t need much of an introduction.”

“No, but you do,” my father said joining my side. “Tell them a bit about yourself.”

“Well, I have a bachelor, two masters, and a doctorate degree: I’m 23, I’m Rossi’s daughter…” In the middle of my thought process dad cut in.

“She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, and she’s the one I call when I’m stuck on a case.” I smiled.

“She also passed every test with flying colors,” Aaron added. “And her profiling skills are exceptional.”

“Thank you,” I blushed. “I think it runs in my blood.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” Aaron continued. “Let’s get to work.”

That was almost three years ago. A couple of days after, I met JJ who had visited with her newborn son Henry.

In very little time I had grown attached to this family. I was most of the time partnered with Spence and we developed an amazing bond. It did help that I loved playing chess and we could have highly erudite talks. Also, I very much enjoyed his over sharing of facts. But really, I was close to them all. On my spare time I was found watching movies with Derek and Penny, perusing book shops with Reid, having girl nights with JJ, Penny, and Emily, or sipping on top grade scotch while finishing paperwork with Hotch.

Spending time with Hotch was my favorite pastime of all.

I realized I had developed feelings for him the day he was captured by Foyet and left at the hospital. Receiving the call from Emily that she had found blood at his apartment literally knocked the air out of my lungs. Reid could tell that my reaction would not have been the same where it had been any of the other members. For some time, he had deduced my attraction to our unit chief. Once we had captured Patrick Meyers and Reid had been sent off to a hospital, we sped off to St. Sebastian Hospital. I could feel my heartbeat going faster and faster as I felt time slipping by. More than once I had asked Morgan to go faster and with sorry eyes, he told me he was going as fast as he could.

Seeing Hotch on a hospital bed, greatly hurt, broke me. I knew everyone on the team, just like Reid, had figured it out. I was the first one in when the doctor announced he was waking up. His eyes fluttered open as JJ, the last one to enter, made it in.

“Where am I?” He groggily asked.

“In the hospital,” dad answered.

My eyes could not leave his face, even as all I wanted was to imagine him in a different state. Derek told him how he made it to the hospital and Emily asked Hotch what had happened. Closing his eyes, Hotch explained step by step how everything had gone down. Upon more investigation, we quickly figured what Foyet had taken and, a page from his planner that held his ex-wife’s and son’s current address and a picture of them, respectively.

Once we had that information, the team knew exactly what to do. Emily and I volunteered to stay behind and update the team if anything changed. As soon as he went to sleep, we let out a locked breath. But the relief was short lived as his pulse started to get exceedingly fast.

“What happened?” The doctor asked.

“I don’t know,” I croakily muttered out. Emily put a hand on my back as I softly touched his arm.

“Agent Hotchner. Can you hear me?” The doctor called out. “Agent Hotchner?”

He finally opened his eyes and responded. “I’m okay.”  

The doctor asked us out of the room as she checked on him and Emily helped stabilize my walk as we made it out. I saw the doctor and a nurse check him as I picked the skin of the thumb of my right hand. Emily noticed and grabbed it, knowing well of my nervous ticks. The other being closing my fist hard enough to dig my nails in it.

“He’ll be okay,” she smiled. “You know he’s a fighter.”

I softly smiled at her, not knowing if she said it for me or for her to believe it too.

Once we knew Haley and Jack were safe the three of us let out a relieved sigh. Hotch squeezed the hand I had been holding as he slept, needing the reassurance of a trusted presence next to him. He asked Emily about the scene at his apartment, but she could not give him definite answers. In a moment of silence, she excused herself to go buy coffee and I took this chance to ask him what had been going through my head.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” I asked worry evident in my eyes.

Sighing, he responded. “I don’t know. After he stabbed me the first time, it all goes blank.”

He looked straight into my eyes and I could tell he knew more than he let on, but now was not the time to push him. He had been drained: physically, emotionally, and mentally. In that moment, Haley walked in and I let go of his hand to leave them to talk. From outside of the room, I could hear the heartbreaking moment and knowing he was in pain shattered my heart. That day had absolutely devastated us as a team, but it only made us more determined to find Foyet and end him.

But life and work went on. The whole month he was off, I spent most of my free time helping in his recovery and his healing, using the little training I had in wound treatment. The other part of my time I spent with Reid, who was also in recovery. A far less pressing injury, but an injury, nonetheless. And he was my best friend, so I could not completely abandon him.  

We were all worried about him coming back to the team with Foyet still out there, but dad reassured us he would only be more motivated. Yet the first case back, he was different. He was usually professional and understanding, now it seemed that no matter how well we worked, we would make a mistake. And when we finally tracked down the unsub and he made his way inside the house, no vest, and no gun, I knew there was something different in him. I tried to follow him inside, but dad stopped me.

“We have to trust him,” he told me. Even with those words we were all unsure of the outcome. My head was working 1,000 miles a minute coming up with different ways this could all end up in, and when I heard the gunshots, my mind only went to the darkest end. Quickly we stormed in the house and saw Hotch putting handcuffs on Darrin, and a very dead Jarvis on a recliner.  

My father spent most of his time with me reassuring me that Hotch was still the same man he had been a month before. And I spent most of my time with Hotch reassuring him that he was not alone.

At the end of most cases Emily, dad, and I sat with Hotch in his office to drink a cup of scotch and unwind after a stressful day. I stayed nights overtime often and was there on the night that Strauss had landed a surprise visit to his office. The next day he became hyper focused on Derek’s work, which later he revealed to me the reason why. The bureau was questioning his leadership and he meant to step down as unit chief at the end of that week. This ended with Derek becoming active unit chief whilst Hotch was being investigated.

The days that followed were quite strange. We were used to taking orders from Hotch and now taking orders from Morgan was completely different. But business went on as usual. We worked on cases just as hard and solved them just as efficiently. With one case always hanging on us like a dark cloud. George Foyet. With every case we finished we knew he was still out there, which meant that Hotch was still hurting and hunting.  

But the dreaded day had caught up to us. With the last case we had been on in Hampton we knew Foyet had found Hotch. He was taunting Hotch, dangling his life in front of him. Once he had sent us that calling card, we pressed harder on our investigation, pulling at whatever string we could find.

Thankfully, JJ pulled our medication string harder when she found out about the ability to substitute prescriptions with over-the-counter meds. We worked tirelessly and strongly to shorten the investigation part of this case. We needed to catch him, fast.

“Wait a minute, guys. Foyet likes things that have meaning to him,” I said looking at the map presented in front of us. I could see that Reid knew where I was going.

“The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led back to him,” Spence added, and I nodded.

“Maybe he’s doing the same with his name,” I said as Reid wrote down George Foyet on the board.

“Like an anagram or something,” Emily chimed. Quickly, Reid got to work on the theory crossing out and circling letters. Adding ‘The Reaper’ onto the board and utilizing it, once Hotch had pointed out Foyet gave himself that name. He kept up this process until the name Peter Rhea came to existence.

Garcia tracked down the name and quickly found an address in Arlington. We had found him, but it was just too easy.

We were waiting outside of the apartment building for too long, waiting for something, anything. Once Morgan had given his orders, the plan was set in motion. Still, something in the back of my mind kept telling me it was too easy. We stormed the empty apartment and searched for anything that would help us find his actual location. His computer was quickly deleting files, but Garcia was better. Haley’s protection unit was in trouble.

As soon as it clicked, we were on our way to the stash house. Inside the house Marshal Sam Kassmeyer was hurt, losing blood quickly. With the little he was able to tell us we knew that Haley and Jack were in danger. Sam had not told Foyet anything, but George was smart, unfortunately. He had disguised himself as a Marshal and lied to Haley to get her where he needed her. Only him had communication with her. Everyone was on edge wanting nothing more than to find this man.

In the office we heard Hotch’s conversation with Foyet. He was working hard to buy some time for us to find him but knowing George he already had a plan set in motion. He had eyes on the pair, he was with them. I could only imagine what Hotch was going through.

“Alright, Foyet has to be in control,” Derek said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “He had Haley come to him.”

“Yeah, but where would he take her?” Spencer asked. We all started thinking and speculating. There was something in the call that told Hotch where to go. That was the key.

“Reid, what did he say, exactly?” I emphasized on the last word.

“Haley’s hair looks good dark. She’s lost some weight. It must be because of all the stress you caused her. Where’s the little man? Oh, there he is now. Do you think he likes Captain America because of you? That’s your wife on the other line. Hold, please. Hi. Open the gate and I’ll drive in.” Spencer recited in a monotone voice.

“Open the gate?” My father questioned.

“It would be someplace with the biggest emotional impact for Hotch,” I said looking down to organize my thoughts.

“And Haley has access to the gate,” Derek added, and it clicked.

“Their house,” I said. “Where they lived together.”

“Of course,” Emily said. “Foyet planned this all the way to the end. It’s everything to him.”

“He wants to take over Hotch’s house, to be in control, to prove his dominance,” I finished. We knew where he was going, and I was sure Hotch knew too and was already on his way.

On the way, Hotch got a call from Foyet’s phone. It was Hayley. I heard the emotion grabbing him by the throat. We could hear the whole conversation and my heart broke when he asked Hayley the magic words.

“Tell Jack that I need him working on the case,” Hotch breathed out. One drunken night he had told me about how he had found Jack inside a storage bench in his office after he had knocked on it. The smiling kid had told his father that he was working the case with Hotch. Hotch knew what was going to happen and so did I. This was the best chance Jack had at survival.

When Hotch told Jack to hug his mom and he said I love you, I let out a loud sob and Emily grabbed my hand tightly for support. But I was not the one that need the care. Hotch did. Haley’s words would forever be engraved in my head, and in the heads of our friends.

Three gunshots rang through the line right before it cut. Then I could not hold back the tears. I knew. I just knew.

Hotch was the first one on the scene and all I thought of was that he did not have a vest or any backup, so god knows what could have happened. For the second time in a matter of months all I could ask for was that Morgan drove faster.

At the house, Morgan was the first one in and the scene that unfolded in front of us was heartbreaking. Hotch was hitting Foyet over and over, and Derek had to hold him back. He was dead. I surveyed the scene and instinctively went to Hotch’s office, Hotch following close behind. Jack had to be there. I let Hotch walk past me and watched as relief overtook him when he lifted the lid.

“I work the case, daddy,” Jack said. Unbeknownst to everything that had happened. “Just like you said.”

“You did a great job buddy,” Hotch lifted his son out of the bench.

“What happened to you, daddy?”

“I’m okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau. Ok?” The child walked to JJ and she took him out in her arms.

And Hotch let go. He silently cried and I helped him make his way to where Haley laid. I stood by the door and turned away a police officer. Morgan stood up and squeezed my shoulder as he left the room behind the officer. I stayed outside of the doorframe, listening to the sobs of a strong man.

Next->

[disturbedbydesign]

The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter Two

It’s almost midnight by the time Garcia is officially gator food, but you’re too wired for sleep. You head out, driving the hour and change to Miami, with a stop on the way to clean yourself up a bit in a gas station bathroom. You check in to the swanky South Beach hotel you’ve decided to treat yourself to, because you’ve earned it. The world is a better place without that man in it, the impressionable young girls of Miami are a bit safer tonight, and that’s enough for you. For the moment, it’s enough.

Your next target is a man you’ve been searching for for a long time, and he’s your own personal project, but tonight you aren’t going to think about him. Tonight you’re going to allow yourself a moment to breathe, to celebrate your victories—a party of one, as usual, but satisfying all the same. You don’t have that much time left before last call at the clubs so you get yourself together quickly and hit the spot closest to your hotel. Even at this time of night, there’s a line to get in, but one look at you and the bouncer is opening that velvet rope and beckoning you inside.

The place reeks of sweat and unchecked hormones as you make your way to the bar, the booming bass drowning out any and all thoughts you might have, which is exactly the way you want it tonight. You order a double vodka rocks and you wait to see what kind of man will approach you this evening: angel or devil. Of course, none of them are really angels, not in the club at this time of night, but some are far worse than others.

You have no problem with decent men. There’s nothing wrong with trying to get laid. It’s normal, it’s natural—you know that now. You’ve even learned to enjoy consensual sex with strangers. At first it was difficult for you—your body having belonged to others for your entire life. But it wasn’t long before you started to enjoy the power of choice, of having control over what your body did and who with.

A man approaches you—brown hair, blue eyes, muscular—and you hate that your first thought is of him but you can’t help it. The Winter Soldier had always been the stuff of nightmares—a ghost story to some, but the Widows knew better. He was terrifying, yes, but the few people who had seen the man’s face and lived to tell about it had always remarked on how handsome he was, even with that cold, dead-eyed stare. You’d seen pictures of him after he came out from under all that brainwashing, and they had proven the reports correct, but you’d never seen him in person until tonight. You couldn’t stand the sight of him in some ways, but in others…

You turn to the attractive stranger and smile, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he yells over the music. You raise your nearly full cocktail in his direction and he smiles awkwardly. “That’s the best line I got,” he says, and he introduces himself with a name you don’t commit to memory.

You give him a fake name and he reaches his hand out to shake. He’s got a disarming personality, but that doesn’t mean you trust him. You know better than anyone that there’s no better tactic than to appear non-threatening. Still, he’s incredibly attractive and you’re in the mood for a party of two tonight.

You let him talk for a while—about his job, about his family—and you pepper in a few lies here and there. He hasn’t laid a hand on you or invaded your personal space in any way that isn’t necessary among the crush of people at the bar. When the bartender signals last call, you decide that he’ll do. You’re rarely wrong about people, and even if you are, you could snap his neck like a twig if necessary.

You allow him to walk you out, expecting him to make a move, but he doesn’t. He just stands there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, rocking a bit awkwardly on his feet.

You smile and tilt your head. “Nightcap?” you ask, and he follows you like a puppy to your hotel room.

You don’t want another drink and neither does he, but he waits for your signal before he tries anything. You try not to make it all seem transactional, but it’s not like your heart is in it. You let him kiss you and touch you, albeit briefly, and you pretend to enjoy it even though that’s not what you want. What you want is to be on top of him, using his body for the pleasure of your own, and it’s not long before you’re doing exactly that. Your beautiful stranger certainly doesn’t mind, not even when you close your eyes and allow yourself to think about someone else inside you—what his face might look like all twisted up and blissed out, what sounds might spill from his pretty lips, what the cold metal might feel like against your hot sweaty skin.

You make yourself cum and then kick him out (kindly). You’re gone by sunrise. You’ve got places to be.

*****

Natasha sits cross-legged on her couch, a pint of ice cream in one hand and scrolling her tablet with the other. After Miami, you’ve been a ghost. None of her usual contacts have been able to give her anything useful. You’ve gone underground, and she knows she won’t find you if you really don’t want to be found. Whoever your next target is, it has to be somebody big if you’ve covered your tracks this well.

She doesn’t regret not taking you in, even though Bucky had complained the entire ride back about how leaving you there was a mistake. But, as she’d told him, you have to want to come in. Trying to force your hand is not only incredibly dangerous, it defeats the purpose. Natasha doesn’t want to retraumatize you; she wants to help you. There’s no point in trading a floating cage for a gilded one.

She doesn’t realize she’s finished the pint until the spoon hits the cardboard. When she goes to pull another one from the freezer, her phone rings.

“What’s up, Rogers?”

Steve’s voice holds a barely contained anger that Natasha knows well. “You need to come in.”

She should have known Bucky would rat her out, but it still pisses her off. “Steve, it’s getting late. Can we do this in the morning?”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “Are you gonna steal another jet in the middle of the night?”

“Technically, I didn’t steal-”

“Natasha, please,” he says, and she can picture the set of his jaw on the other end of the line.

She sighs. “Alright, fine. I’m leaving now.”

When she gets to the tower, most of the usual suspects are gathered around the conference table. Steve looks pissed. Tony looks amused. Sam and Wanda look concerned. And while, to anyone else Bucky would be wearing no expression at all, Natasha can tell that he’s feeling a bit guilty—as he should, he gave her his word. He mouths “I’m sorry” when she sits down at the table and she raises an eyebrow at him that he knows to translate as a middle finger.

Steve tries to speak but Natasha cuts him off. “Save me the lecture, Rogers. I’m not going to apologize.”

Steve’s voice is stern but not unkind. “This needs to be a group decision, Natasha, and as of right now, you’re the only person who thinks this is a good idea.”

“That’s not actually true,” she says. “Wanda? Do you want to tell Steve what you told me?”

Wanda looks a little shocked to be called out but she answers, if a bit hesitantly. “It sounds like she needs help, Steve. Like she’s lost. I… I know what that feels like—when everyone thinks you’re a monster.”

Wanda and Nat’s eyes both turn to Bucky, looking for any recognition whatsoever that he, too, knows exactly where they’re coming from, but he’s completely stolid. Underneath his blood is boiling and he feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin, but the surface remains placid.

Tony pops a blueberry into his mouth and swivels in his chair to face Natasha. “So, let me see if I’m understanding this correctly, Romanoff. You want to bring in one of your former compatriots who has spent the last… what?... year or so on a globetrotting murder spree? Am I getting the general idea here, or am I missing something? I have to be missing something, because if I’m not missing something, this is categorically batshit.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Stark. But essentially, yes. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

Tony laughs. “Wow. OK. Well, Rogers—you and I rarely agree on… well… anything, but I gotta say, I’m Team Cap with this one.”

Natasha crosses her arms and huffs her displeasure.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, looking around and addressing the room, “but don’t we usually catch mass murderers? Isn’t that kind of our thing?”

The longer the conversation goes on, the more uncomfortable Bucky gets. It wasn’t lost on him that Tony’s eyes lingered on him when he threw out the term “mass murderers,” and he’s learned that it’s better to just let Tony go off when he feels the need. Still, he needs to get out of the room. He needs to take a walk, get some air, push all thoughts of you and this whole mess out of his mind, because if he doesn’t, he thinks he might go crazy.

“Are we done here?” Bucky asks.

“No,” Steve replies. “Sam? Anything you want to say?”

Sam takes a minute to gather his thoughts. “Look, Nat, I understand where you’re coming from on this. I really do. And it would be different if she was willing to come in on her own. But it sounds to me like she isn’t interested. She wants to be doing exactly what she’s doing. You can’t rehabilitate that. You just can’t.”

Steve looks apologetically at Natasha. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but it’s a no. I’m not necessarily saying we go after her-”

“I am,” Tony interjects. “I’m saying that. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Steve glares at Tony and it shuts him up. “Leave it alone, Tony.”

“You’re seriously telling me you want to leave this girl on the streets knowing what we know? Come on, Rogers.”

Everyone starts to raise their voice at once—everyone except Bucky, who is already sneaking out and halfway to the door—when Natasha shouts, “Enough!”

She takes a deep breath and blows it out, speaking softer now. “I’ll find her and I’ll bring her in, whether she wants to come or not. But it stays in this room—no cops, no agents, just the team. When I get her here, I’ll figure out what to do with her.”

“Fine,” Steve says, and the rest of the team assents. “Buck, you go with her.”

Every cell in Bucky’s body is screaming not to do it, but he never could say no to Steve. He grunts his agreement, refusing to even look at Natasha before storming out of the room and out into the humid mid-August evening. He walks all the way from Midtown to Brooklyn, but he still can’t shake the malaise that’s settled over him ever since Natasha first came to him with her plan.

Bucky knows that he should understand—and, in a way, he does—but he just can’t bring himself to feel anything for you except disgust. Natasha sees something in you that he just doesn’t see. All Bucky wanted to do when he finally got free of it all was prove to everyone that he was a good man—that he was not the things that he’d done. It took a lot of work and a lot of time, but he’s finally in a place where he’s separated himself from the Winter Soldier. That isn’t who he is; it never was.

Steve always knew that, and Natasha hadn’t taken much convincing. The others, though—some of them still don’t fully trust him, and if he thinks about it for too long, it cuts deep. So when Bucky thinks of you—free now, but still violent and bloodthirsty and absolutely unrepentant—it makes him sick. After all the work Bucky has done, how can Natasha look at you and him and think that you’re the same?

Not everyone comes out of their traumas unscathed. Sometimes people can’t come back from the things that have happened to them. That’s you. That’s who you are. You’re not good, you never will be, and as sad as it may make him, Bucky truly believes that you are beyond redemption. You don’t need to be saved; you need to be stopped.

Bucky gets a text as he unlocks the door to his Brooklyn Heights apartment. He’s been waiting for it, hoping for it, and now he has it. Natasha doesn’t know where you are yet, but he does. One of his contacts in Bucharest has a line on you, and he’s not going to let you get away this time. Much as it pains him, he doesn’t trust Natasha to keep her word to the team and take you in against your will. No, Bucky is going to handle this himself. You may be a Widow, but you’re no match for the White Wolf.

CHAPTER THREE >>>

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-First Day Jitters (Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None.

A/N: There will be a Part 2 to this piece based on S3E10 in order to give some groundwork to the dynamics amongst the team once the reader joins them. Enjoy reading! I had so much fun making this piece. 

The Purest Things Masterlist

au! october 2007

"Criminal profiling is more of an art than a science. Modeling a criminal profile demands the precise marrying of psychological and rational instincts with the crime scene's particulars. What steps would you take in the process of analyzing a suspect to form a solid profile," the stoic BAU Section Cheif asks.

"First, I would want to accumulate all attainable information about the crime to help explain the "how" and "why" of the offense," you counter.

"What kind of information?"

"I'd want to acquire knowledge on the victim to examine the victimology. For example, I'd determine the victim's career and place of employment, friends, family, social status, criminal records, and daily routines and habits. Then, I can look at the connection between the victim and the unidentified subject. Did they know each other, or are they strangers? Why was the victim targeted, and was it them specifically, or are they just one quarry in a tangled web of attacks?"

You look for some signal in Cheif Strauss's attitude as to whether or not you should continue. 

Let’s ramp this up a notch. 

Taking the liberty of doing so regardless, you continue.

"Then, I want to know more about the attacker. I want to classify him...or her, as well as the offense. Why did it take place at a specific location? What is the motive? Is the suspect an amateur or a professional? This collection of data helps to assemble a proper crime assessment. I can now paint the picture of what happened before, during, and after the attack. Next, I can start to hypothesize and formulate a complete profile; I can deduce the kind of person we are dealing with. This assessment includes the age range, social status, what type of career he or she may hold, their I.Q., anything that describes the attacker. Now, I can give the profile to investigators and work to capture the assailant. The profile not only helps track him down but also helps refine the interrogation process."

Pausing the video recording, David sets the remote on the table.

"Academically, she's perfect for the job, Aaron. But will she fit in with the team? She seems too well trained, too straight from the textbook."

"That's why I wanted you to see this next part."

They both watch you in expectation.

"If I may Section Chief Strauss...as much as academic training benefits a student in laying the foundations for their selected career field, all of the studying and laboring over perfect grades becomes virtually obsolete once on the job. Instead, implementing the mechanics and learning through experience, trial, and error is far more beneficial. Executing what you've learned in the real world and refining your expertise in the field is the only way to accurately reveal whether or not you are capable of doing your job."

Rossi snickers at your straightforwardness. Aaron crosses his arms, struggling to fight back the urge to smile.

"Care to expound on that?" Strauss proposes.

"You don't trust the current...organization within the BAU. You feel as though Unit Cheif Hotchner and his team pose a threat to the unit. However, I think you put more emphasis on the chain of command. Specifically, you don't trust Agent Hotchner. In the entirety of this vetting process, you have continually undermined the Unit Chief's role in selecting a new agent. He has not been included in any of our telephone calls. Never once have you cc'd him on our emails. Nor has he been invited to sit in on our in-person interviews. I think the only time I've set eyes on him was in the lobby. He seemed to be completely unaware of my presence and purpose here. I'm sure that were I to be hired TodayToday, I could walk right into his office, and he would be blindsided entirely by my arrival and position on the team. Now, if I am to be apart of this renowned group of individuals, I want to know that I will be a part of it. I do not intend to be an outsider in my field or a pawn for higher-ups' ulterior motives. So, with all due respect Cheif Strauss, I would like to withdraw my application. If any of the aspects that I have touched on prove true and impact my role within this unit, I have no interest in undermining an established team that has no place for me."

Rossi claps Aaron on the shoulder, "She'll do just fine."

**********

You step inside the lobby of the FBI Academy. Although the sight is not new to you after your intense vetting process, it now takes on a new meaning. You have a new purpose. Processing your surroundings, you regard the entryway's clean efficiency. Considering the darkness that looms over this bureau, the lobby is welcoming all the same. 

So this is what my tax dollars have been paying for.

Noticing that an elevator has arrived, you call out to the person inside one of the many lifts. They hold it open for you. The sound of your clipping heels progresses as you run across the glossy tile floor. High heels may not seem like the most logical choice for your first day of work in the FBI, but when wearing them, you feel elevated. As if the world is your stage and you are the ballerina dazzling the crowd in her pointe shoes. Sure, they are uncomfortable at times, but wearing them can almost be considered a superpower. A quintessential accessory of the iconic femme fatale.

The woman in the elevator gasps as you climb on board, startling slightly.

"Are those Jimmy Choos?" She squeals.

You laugh and shake your head, peering down at the patent leather footwear, "No. I wish, though! They're just some old Steve Madden's I got on the clearance racks." Seeing her shoes, you imitate her enthusiasm, "Those are unique! I've never seen a green...quite that color on shoes before."

Chuckling, she thanks you, "Shoes are one of the many ways I express myself. I'm pretty sure at this point I have a pair of shoes in every color for every mood. Today I was feeling a little envious, so I chose this lime green."

"Envious?" You ask.

"There is a Doctor Who convention going on this weekend, and I have meet and greet tickets for the entire cast, but I've been called in on a case. Meanwhile, three of my friends from counterterrorism are on their way to meet David Tennant as we speak. So yes, I am envious."

"Oh my gosh, I heard about that! Catherin Tate is going to be there too. God, what I would give to meet Donna Nobel in the flesh."

"You watch Doctor Who?" Her eyes widen.

You shrug my shoulders, "I'm a bit of a self-proclaimed Whovian."

Shoving her bags underneath her shoulders to free her hands, she stretches them to you, "Penelope Garcia. We are going to be the best of friends."

Taking her hand in yours, you introduce yourself, "I'm Y/F/N/ Y/L/N. I look forward to having a best friend in the building. Today is my first day."

"Oh sweetie, you are going to do amazing," she looks up at the floor number as the elevator dings, "Well, this is my stop."

Stepping off alongside her, you notice her slight surprise. "Mine too," you announce proudly.

"Wait," she whispers, holding a hand up to your face in a stopping motion, "Today is your first day. Oh! Are you the newbie?"

"Today is my first day as a profiler at the BAU, yes."

Stomping her feet repeatedly, she cheers, "Oh, this day keeps getting better! My darling, you will fit in just fine. Now come with me. There's another fellow Whovian I'd like for you to meet."

Following her through the enormous glass doors and into the department, you can't help but feel slightly overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle. "Welcome to the bullpen," she turns around, beaming, "Oh! Spencer, come hither, the new girl is here!"

The young man spins around in his chair and raises his eyebrows, giving you a once-over; he strolls across the office to meet you. You can't tell if he is too tall or too thin. Perhaps, his head is just considerably big for his body, or his lengthy hair gives that illusion. When he nods at you, holding his hand out to greet you, he looks slightly like a little bobble-head doll.

"Dr. Spencer Reid at your service!" He melodically sings.

Nerdy pipe cleaner. I like him.

"It's a pleasure, Dr. Reid. I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N."

"I read you got a full ride through college and graduated from Berkley with a semester completed at the University of Kent for Psychology of Criminal Justice, and you have a degree in Forensic Psychology."

You nod, impressed by his research—time to dazzle him with yours.

"And you, Dr. Reid, attended Caltech. You completed your undergraduate degree at 16, and you hold Bachelor's degrees in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy. Very impressive."

"You forgot PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering," he adds.

You nod, "My apologies."

Breaking a tiny smile, he shifts his gaze to the floor as you notice the light tint of pink shading his cheeks. Unable to resist, you feel the heat rise to yours as well.

"Ah! You must be our newest recruit—Benvenuto nell'esperienza della tua vita," a gentle voice echoes from behind you.

Turning around, you see a familiar-looking, dapperly dressed older gentlemen gliding down the stairs to greet you.

"And you are Agent David Rossi. I attended one of your guest lectures at Berkley three years ago," you reach your hand out to meet his.

"Call me Dave, and you can thank me for inspiring your career choice later. Right now, we have a case. It looks like it'll be a first day via baptism by fire for you kiddo," he lifts his thick eyebrows and winks at you. David motions for you to follow his lead, and you eagerly journey behind him.  

In the conference room, you are met with the eager faces of four other new colleagues. The first to catch your eye is the herculean adonis, whose attention fixates on you. You watch as his eyes scour you top to bottom, taking your whole body in.

Four words. Sculpted by the gods. Where has he been all my life?

"Where have you been all my life?" The statuesque man purrs, running his thumb across his bottom lip.

Ha. Jinx. You can buy me a drink anytime.

"Hiding from men who lead an introduction with that," you strut over to shake his hand. A knot swirls in your stomach as your finger-tips touch, but you quickly dismiss it as mere infatuation.

Throwing his head back in laughter, he responds, "I like you already. Derek Morgan."

"It's nice to see you again," the bright, blue-eyed young woman you recognized as the media liaison smiles, "I'm Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me J.J." On the day of your first interview with Strauss, she offered you directions to the Section Chief's office.

Next, Agent Prentiss introduces herself. Her thick, raven-colored hair elegantly falls to her shoulders and encompasses her diamond-shaped face. There is a spirited as well as clever expression in her eyes.

Finally, Agent Hotchner stands up. You are taken aback by his astute and severe manner. He's taller than you recall, although you have only observed him from afar. Like most men, he seems to have become an automaton of the modern workplace, measured and valued just for his productivity and obedience. He is tense, most likely swallowing intense trauma and concealing it so he can get up each day and do the same tedious job again and again. Most men display these traits in the way they parent, becoming domineering companions, stacking decay over destruction until their home-life collapses. What remains is a mass of bitterness resentment.

Yet, he exhibits none of this. Beneath this rather tough exterior, you can discern that he is the kind of handsome that infiltrates your bones, that exudes an air of olden times before he's even said a word to you.

Tag List:

@chellybear98​ @destiny-tsukino​ @wanniiieeee​ @sweetiecake180 @vampiracontessa​ @weexinling​ @spaghetti-dad187 @hothskies​ @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos​ @mac99martin​ @clairedragonessbaker @cecemariee7302​ @halloweenwithreid @megans-txmblr​ @theoldestguard @purpledragonturtles​ @chazubagi​ @frogrrylovebot @agentaaronhotass​ @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @mcntsee @ssagube @softhetixx @kenzies-mr-j @peachyotps @cat11-2 @prettylittlemoonlight @ravenmoore14 @gubs-boobs @spencerreidsoulmate

[diegos-butt]

Electricity Chapter 1

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (curvy OFC)

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: So, I wrote something for the first time 👀 Pls be kind haha. This is written with a plus size/curvy OFC in mind because all my curvy babes, like me, deserve some love 😘 

“Thanks for calling me. I will call you back with my decision soon.” I hung up the phone and stared at it in my hand. A woman from the newspaper in the city a few towns over had just called, telling me they were offering me a job at their crime department. I sat at my desk at my current job, a local journalist for my hometown newspaper. I started working there during college and they offered a job after I finished. I happily accepted, because that meant I could move out of my lovely parents’ house and start my own life.

As I sat at my desk I realized I had never really left this town, and I had always fantasized what it would be like to live and work in a different town. I loved my hometown, don’t get me wrong, but it is small and everyone knows each other. Every day is basically the same here. Miss Johnson walks her dog at exact 3pm, the Millers go to the supermarket at 4pm to buy dinner and the whole town eats at Al’s diner every Sunday.

Also, the men in this town aren’t something to write home about. The decent men are taken by the perfect housewives and the ones who are left, are the type of guys who you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. And unfortunately, no nice men have decided to move here in the last couple of years. The only guy I dated (we were only together for a couple of months) decided I wasn’t good enough and eloped with a pretty, skinny blonde bitch.

While the town doesn’t seem to change, neither does my job. I have been covering the local news for a couple of years now, and it feels like I have been doing the same thing over and over again. Nothing really happens here, and honestly it makes me feel stuck at my job. I feel like my job and this place aren’t helping me to move further. I want to learn more and see something else than this town.

Still staring at the phone in my hand realization washed over me. This was my way out. This phone call could change everything. Not thinking twice, I called the woman (I had forgotten her name, Stacy apparently) back telling her I was accepting their offer. This was my chance of starting something new.

In the weeks after the call, I quit my job and started looking for a new place. Luckily, I found a cosy, affordable apartment. Not too big, not too small. Perfect for me and only me. Not wanting to wait, I moved in quickly with the help of my parents and made the place feel a little like home.

It was a cute apartment with one bedroom and a tiny kitchen. I had everything I needed. A comfy couch, my kettle, my books, a tv for my binge-watching nights and lots of cosy blankets and throw pillows.

After moving in and settling down, I finally had a chance to decorate the place with a lot of fairy lights and plants. I stood in the middle of the living area, wiping some sweat of my face after moving around some heavy plants. Yeah, this is starting to look like home. I thought as I looked around the living area, satisfied with the work I did.

I sat down on my couch and looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8pm. I was tired and hadn’t eaten yet. Tomorrow was my first day at the Minnesota Daily and I couldn’t wait. I was a little nervous, but because I was so tired, I didn’t have the energy to be too nervous or to make dinner.

I decided to make a grilled cheese sandwich and go to bed early. Tomorrow was the first day of a new start and I needed to look good. Might need a full 12 hours of sleep if I want to look a little decent, I thought to myself as I stared into the mirror and noticed my messy hair and the bags under my eyes.

After I ate my ‘dinner’ (I decided two grilled cheese sandwiches counted as dinner), I went to my bedroom and picked an outfit for tomorrow. A simple jeans and a baby blue blouse would do it. Afterwards I brushed my teeth and removed my make up. I put on my pyjamas and fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow.

After parking my car in the parking garage underneath the building the Minnesota Daily is located, I checked my make up one last time in the rear-view mirror. No uneven eyebrows and no smudges of mascara. Let’s go make a good first impression.

I stepped out of the car and grabbed my purse. I walked out of the parking garage and made my way to the front desk where I was greeted by a friendly older looking receptionist.

“Hi, I’m Melody! It is my first day here and I was told to ask for Stacy,” I said.

“Welcome dear! I’ll let Stacy know you’re here! She’ll be here in a sec,” she said with a smile. I nodded and looked around. People were walking in and out of the building, most of them talking on the phone. They all looked like they were in a rush.

Stacy appeared within a minute. She was taller than me, and I’m not exactly tiny, and her long brown hair was tied up in a bun. She walked towards me with her hand reached out and I quickly took it.

“Hi, you must be Melody! I’m Stacy, but everyone calls me Stace. Come, follow me, I’ll show you where we will be working!” she said while we walked to the elevator. While the elevator brought us to the 8th floor, she asked me how my new apartment was and if I liked the city. Before I knew it, the elevator reached the 8th floor.

“Everyone, pay attention! This is Melody and she will be joining our department as you all know,” Stacy practically yelled the second we left the elevator. I already saw some friendly faces looking at me. “Hi, I am Melody, but please call me Mel,” I said while Stacy walked over to a desk and started to introduce me to my new co-workers.

After I met everyone from the crime department, I made my way towards my new desk. Everyone seemed friendly and there was a relaxed atmosphere. Which was a little surprising to me considering this was the crime department. I looked around and thought: yeah, I made the right call to accept this offer.

Yet, I had no idea what this town had to offer me. Or better said, who.

In the first week I worked there I became friends with some of my co-workers. Carmen Garcia practically forced me to go to lunch with her and Gia Park on my first day. They had both been working at the Minnesota Daily for a couple of years now and they were one of the few women in the department. So, they were glad I was recruited to give them another ally in the office.

While we had lunch, they informed me about everything I needed to know. “You seriously need to stay away from creepy Greg, he works for the finance section. Make sure you never go down there alone. He always looks at women like he wants to drag them into an empty alley,” Gia said while pretending to throw up.

“Oh, he is the worst! But Megan, the receptionist, is the best ever. She is so sweet and kind. If you ever need anything, just ask her and she will help you,” Carmen added.

“Definitely! And if you ever need free tickets for a sports game, just let me know and we will visit the guys from the sport section,” Gia told me with a wink.

“I will keep all of this in mind,” I said while taking a sip from my cappuccino. “but tell me something about yourselves!”

Next thing I knew Carmen and Gia told me where they grew up, where they went to school and how they ended up working for the Minnesota Daily. I noticed how easy it was to talk to these girls and we had a good laugh while they told me about their most recent dating disasters. I nearly spilled my cappuccino not once or twice, but thrice while Carmen told me about how she escaped from one of her dates through the bathroom window.

During my first week I spend a lot of time with them. I helped them finish their articles and I got to know them pretty well. Carmen is tough, but sweet and straightforward, while Gia is soft and has a very short span of attention while working. She has visited my desk every half hour just to “catch up”. But I didn’t complain. It was nice to have them as my co-workers, although they began to feel more like friends.

It felt like my life fell into place again. I was making new friends, and I did a pretty good job so far.  Still, sometimes I forgot to do basis tasks like getting groceries. So now I was parking my car in the parking lot of the grocery store.

As soon as I stepped out, I felt the cold chilly air around me, making me pull my leather jacket closer around my body. Hastily I stepped through the doors of the store just a few minutes before they would close. Quickly I grabbed a basket, knowing I should grab a cart, and started to walk through the aisles.

It was quiet inside, just a few people were doing some last-minute shopping like me. I waved hello to the woman at the cash register as I made my way to the first aisle.

So just the basics, some bread, apples, veggies, chocolate. Hmm maybe no chocolate. Okay yes, some chocolate. I deserve it today. What else, milk and cereal obviously. Girl gotta eat some breakfast. I thought as I threw some products in my already way too full basket and made my way to the cereal aisle. I walked passed the apples and picked some up, holding them in my hands.

Walking through the aisle I stopped in front of the many boxes of cereal. Above me I noticed a flickering lightbulb, reminding me I still needed to watch the last episode of Stranger Things. Maybe I should watch it tonight.

Staring at all the different kinds of cereal, I couldn’t decide which one I wanted. After a minute of just staring at the boxes lost in my own world, I grabbed one.

Except, I suddenly wasn’t the only one. Quickly I turned around and bumped into a warm, broad chest which made me drop the apples I was carrying. “Oh shit,” I whispered before I looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen and stared at the man. He had a beard and dark, brown curls. One of the curls dangled in front of his eyes and I had to fight the urge to not wipe it out of his face.

“It didn’t look like you were going to make a decision soon, so I just grabbed the one I wanted,” he said while crouching down to pick up the fallen apples.

“Oh no, no it’s fine,” I stammered, completely overwhelmed by him. “I guess I was zoned out there for a moment.”

While he was picking up the apples, I decided to take a quick look at him. He was a tall, big man wearing a dark blue sweater. Damn it, he is gorgeous. Don’t mind bumping into him more often.. no don’t go there, pull yourself together! I thought as I felt my cheeks burning all of a sudden. I couldn’t even remember the last time I talked to a man this handsome. Get it together Mel.

As he stood up and handed me the apples, I noticed how tired he looked. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, making me wonder when it was the last time he had a decent amount of sleep. Or if he ever had a decent night of sleep.

“Thank you for picking these up,” I said while holding up the apples, making them almost fall again. His reflexes were fast as he grabbed my elbow, helping me keep the apples balanced. The warmth of his hand made my legs suddenly feel a little weak.

“No problem,” he chuckled tiredly making me smile a little. “Maybe you should have gotten a cart instead of a basket, might be easier,” he said while still holding onto my elbow. He pointed with his other hand to my basket that was way too full.  

“You are probably right, but my stubborn ass thought I could carry it all, so here we are,” I answered with a timed laugh, feeling a little embarrassed. He looked at me with those blue eyes and I noticed he had a “don’t mess with me” vibe, that somehow made me feel safe.

As I looked at his hand on my elbow, I suddenly became aware of how close he was. I could smell his musky cologne. He noticed I looked at his hand, and he abruptly let go of me while taking a step back. I immediately missed the warmth of his hand.

“I, uh, I need to go. Take care and don’t drop those again,” he told me with a small smile pointing at the apples in my hands. He grabbed his own basket and started to walk away. As he walked away, I took a good look of him. He was a very muscular man, and I took a mental picture of his ass because that was a sight I did not want to forget. I must tell Carmen and Gia about this.

“I can’t promise that, but I will try my hardest,” I laughed, knowing I would probably drop them again soon. “See you around?” I asked him. Surprised by my own boldness I nearly sank through the floor out of embarrassment.

He looked back at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I felt a spark of electricity going through my spine. “I hope so,” he said with a smirk before he shook his head and turned the corner leaving me speechless in the cereal aisle.

I stood there for another minute while coming back to my senses. My cheeks stopped burning and I realized I had not embarrassed myself that much. I smiled to myself and pictured the smirk he gave me in my head. Then the announcement that the store was about to close in a few minutes blared through the speakers, reminding me I still had to collect some groceries.

Quickly I grabbed the rest of the groceries and headed towards the cash register hoping to see him one more time. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.

I paid for the groceries and walked to my car. Loading the groceries in the trunk I nearly dropped the apples again. Told you, I thought while closing the trunk. It was getting dark and colder outside so I wasted no more time and drove home.

While driving home I realized the mistake I made.

Damn, I should’ve asked his name.

•••

> Chapter two

Taglist: @keanureevesisbae

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[potterandpromises]

The Many Vortexes of Autumn

Surprise @theadorelocksly! I’m your @garcysecretsanta.

This fic is actually a version of a story I’ve had in my head for years. After attempting two separate one shots, it finally came together for you. ( : 

Because of it’s origins, it has a lot of backstory, which I’ve tried my best to interweave throughout the story. It’s also longer then I meant for it to be, so this is chapter one of (approximately) five.

I recommend reading the AO3 summery and tags before continuing.

“Did you know a group of crows is called a murder?”

“I did not.”

The train doors open. Lucy and Iris step onto the open air platform which leads to the local park, the one with nice trees, plenty of space, and purportedly a large bird population.

“Some people don’t like it though,” Iris continues. “They say it gives them a bad reputation, that they’re really a family oriented species and they don’t deserve it, but I think it’s cool.” Iris grins and Lucy smiles too, more to herself then to Iris. Family, murder; the baby bird didn’t fall far from the nest. She even has her father’s smile, and her mother’s expressiveness.

They reach the sidewalk and Iris quickens her pace, half a bag of almonds clutched in her fist. “Just stay where I can see you!”

“I will!”

Iris slows in front of a cluster of trees. Lucy finds a bench, close enough to watch, far enough to not disrupt her, and sits down.

Over the three months Lucy has known her, Iris has adopted interests in wolves, emus, pufferfish, and axolotls. This week it’s crows, and at some point between dinner and breakfast, she came up with the idea of befriending a murder.

With her parents back at work full time, Lucy watches her after she gets home from school. Though, she mostly watches herself. So far that hasn’t meant anymore attempted visits to friends in different towns. Crucially, she hadn’t gotten the idea that independence will get her killed either, like Lucy feared.

She reminds her to do her homework or escorts her to the park. She doesn’t mind it, although the background noise that is a bullet aching her leg has gotten a little louder since they left the house. It is what is.

How did her life get like this? She’s something worse then a ghost and she’s watching Garcia Flynn’s kid try to tame crows.

It’s October and she wants burgundy leaves pooled at her feet. She wants the rasp under her shoes from the year she spent in Chicago or from that day in Salam when she wasn’t hanged. No dice, autumn color won’t show itself in the Bay Area for at least another month.

Sometimes it does help to remind herself how she got here.

She takes her blank notebook out of her borrowed bag, one of two Flynn gave her when she first moved in, opens it, closes it. Something so perfect doesn’t deserve to be ruined with her ramblings, not today. She looks at Iris standing patient. She looks past her into the gray horizon.

To summarize is to put it in it’s place, to make it history, which is something she can understand. Again she tries to explain herself to herself.

October, two years ago, almost to the day, a homeland security agent rang her doorbell. She was recruited— no, recruitment implies she wasn’t whisked off in a car with tinted windows that same night. She wasn’t forced; she wasn’t drafted. Really, she could have said no, couldn’t she? What would’ve happened if she’d planted her feet, stood her ground, sensed she was on the brink?

So a terrorist had stolen a time machine. What an evening! And she was meant to act as the guide, to decipher him, to save history by helping Wyatt kill him (kill the man whose spare room she now sleeps in, what a thought).

Except he was right. Rittenhouse was America and America was Rittenhouse.  They found their ways to the same side, the right side eventually, and— and Rufus was murdered, then he was alive. Her mother was dead, then she wasn’t. Things were looking up. One day in 1726 a 20 year old David Rittenhouse caught a stray bullet and when they got back that day in late June, their farm house was gone.

(She stared until Flynn touched her arm. Slack-jawed, eyes wide, skin blotchy, she didn’t recognize him. But she remembers feeling nothing; in retrospect a hint to his character, perhaps. At the time she thought something was wrong with herself, that’s what monsters do, they don’t care. The pressure of Flynn’s fingers curled on her bicep.)

They didn’t panic at first. They didn’t panic at all, because it was a good thing, because while it was weird their safehouse was gone all they had to do was call Wyatt or Denise or Mason and get the new address. They kept a phone in the Lifeboat in case of something this odd. Or if they had panicked, it was after that burning shot through Lucy and before she woke up on the ground with Flynn’s jacket balled up under her head.

They’d gotten too comfortable, Rufus said later. They’d all heard of the butterfly effect, they’d just gotten lucky before. Mostly lucky, he clarified with an apologetic look towards Lucy. His words rang hallow in the motel room.

Then—

Lorena Flynn found them in the park the morning after. Lucy and Flynn were talking about all the ways life could go and she just... appeared, like an angel, or a reaper (by his eyes Flynn thought she was holy, anyway). Because she’s the sort of person who finds her husband when he goes missing. Said husband wasted no time and explained everything so badly that Lucy is shaking her head from October, not without fondness.

In the motel room they all pitched in and did their best to convince Lorena her husband wasn’t crazy. She listened politely and gently denied all of it. Lucy assured Rufus he did a better job then Mason. In the end it took Flynn pulling his shirt off to reveal unknown scars for the unease of belief to settle behind her features. 

All in all, she took it surprisingly well.

It was as good a time as any to go their separate ways.

Flynn withdrew $500 from an ATM and placed it into Lucy’s hand with the promise of helping her craft a new identity whenever she was ready. Whatever she needed, he said, and they hugged, and she half expected to never see him again.

Rufus and Jiya went home, and after a few days of searching, so did Lucy.

She found the house she grew up in. It hadn’t been easy, the street has a different name and the house is a pale blue now, but it’s there. It exists. Through the internet, she found out her dad, Henry Wallace, lived a decade longer in this timeline then the last one, eight years longer then in hers. She found his grave, picked dandelions and left them atop the marbled stone. She felt silly doing it but the days were long, are long.

It took Jiya’s hacking to find anything recent on Wyatt. He’s alive, deployed on some top secret operation. Maybe it’s for the best Lucy can’t go and see him, but she’ll never know.

Jessica is dead in this timeline. Emma isn’t, or at least none of them could find a record of it. But they hadn’t seen her or Jessica or the goons for at least two hours before David died. Rufus and Jiya can’t find any signal for the Mothership despite persistent investigation. Nothing in Jiya’s visions either. She said it was like all the strings had been cut then thrown away. They should be as safe as anyone else. Still, they’ve been wrong before.

Iris tosses an almond into the air. It lands at her feat and a particularly daring squirrel gets it’s payoff.

When Lucy remembers the past two years, it’s a series of dark rooms, streetlamps, the smell of burnt gunpowder and horse shit. It had the most fulfilling work of her life and a whole lot of nothingness. The word blood raises to the surface, as blood aims to do.

She is a living history. She is a relic that will be destroyed, sooner or later, regardless of what she does or does not preserve.

There is comfort in that.

Iris walks towards Lucy, a skip in her step, almond bag crumpled in her hand.

“Did you make any new friends?”

She crinkles her nose bridge, looking seriously unimpressed. “It takes more then a day.”

“Of course.”

Iris frowns at her, then peers upwards. “Is it going to rain?”

The sky is textured gray with chasms of gold. “Either way, we need to head home.”

They walk together and Iris cooks her head at little brown birds in trees above their heads. What fuels her many short-lived passions Lucy doesn’t know, but Iris sees the world differently then she did yesterday, like stumbling out of the Lifeboat for the first time.

“Can we come back tomorrow?”

Lucy bites her lip. She can bring a book or something, one with words. “Probably.”

Raindrops tap their skin. In front of them, the train screeches to a halt.  

This rail system didn’t exist in the old timeline. She’s grateful it exists now, but every time she boards it, every time she sits on the worn burgundy seats as she does now, she thinks of how Rittenhouse dug their fingers into everything.

She knew they had people in the auto industry, but she’d never considered how it shaped the infrastructure of the city she grew up in.

That’s what gets her: the unknowability. She knows why Amy disappeared, and she knows why, in a completely different way, she also stopped existing. But she’ll never see the wings that flapped this world into being. She’ll never know exactly what Rittenhouse held between it’s teeth.

Thunder rumbles. The downpour’s become vicious, like rocks pelting the windows. She texts Flynn to pick them up at the station on his way home from work. He replies with a golden thumbs up.

Over the loudspeaker, a barely comprehensible voice declares a stop that isn’t theirs, and Lucy smiles. It’s more nostalgic then it has any right to be.

Iris taps the window, imitating the droplets. She’s been awfully quiet since they got on the train.

“Can you teach me the differences between crows and ravens?” Lucy has to speak up over the rain, which earns her a few blunt looks from the other passengers. “I can never tell them apart.”

“Well ravens are bigger, for one thing.” Iris shifts in her seat and stares at the carpet, her face contorting in thought. “Crows have funerals.” At first Lucy thinks she mishears. “Do you think they have, like, wars?”

“I can’t imagine they’d have anything worth that much death.”

She tilts her head back and forth, mulling it over. She leans forwards, her hands on her knees, with much heaver burdens then someone her age should bare and Lucy knows she’s messed up. “What’s worth it then?”

“Iris—”

“Would they kill each other for stealing from each other’s caches if they had guns?”

Iris looks at her like she expects an answer, like she hangs the moon. Lucy wants to scream, just a little. She needs to choose her next words very carefully.

“Iris I don’t know; you know more about crows then I do.” It’s a liberating phrase: ‘I don’t know;’ when not knowing isn’t going to get anyone killed. “But I don’t think you’re only thinking of crows.” She says it as gently as she can bare. “I think you’re thinking of what happened right after we met, am I right?”

“Not just crows,” Iris admits, tears threating their way out of her eyes.

“Do you want me to hug you now?”

She nods and Lucy pulls her in. They’ve hugged before, during happier circumstances, but the last time Lucy held her this tight was when a man pulled out a gun and shot the owner of the restaurant they were eating lunch in.

“Why would a person kill another person like that?”

“He was scared.” Lucy squeezes her shoulders and holds her even closer. That’s all she can do.

“He wasn’t scared.” There’s a bite to her voice, even muffled in Lucy’s shirt. “Why would he be scared?”

“Because it didn’t go the way he thought it would. He didn’t plan on doing what he did.” Lucy needs her to believe the man who murdered someone in front of her wasn’t a monster and that’s not an easy thing to convince a child of. But while she’s here she wants to install radical empathy in her, because one day she might ask what exactly those bad things her father did in order to bring her back to life were, and Lucy won’t be around to act as a witness.

Iris pulls away and gives her a hard look. “How do you know?”

“Because I talked to him.”

That gives her pause. “Before my dad found you?”

Lucy nods. “I tried to talk him into giving himself up.”

That lasted approximately two minutes after Iris ran out the door, but Lucy sees no need to share the timeline. After the restaurant owner’s heart stopped, neither of them saw a point in surrender. One murder sentence isn’t much better then two. Instead, she tried to convince him he could get away if he ran immediately, before the police cars multiplied, and before they could organize to force the entrance. He didn’t listen. He flailed his gun in her direction while he barricaded the back door, as if she could get up and throw herself at him again, as if she could even walk.

“They knew each other, him and the restaurant owner. I’m not sure how, but he said he was sorry, that it wasn’t meant to happen.” But it was meant to happen, wasn’t it? People are fated to die at certain times, although death need not always be permanent. If Lorena and Iris don’t prove that, Rufus does.

That night in the motel room Flynn found a photo of Iris on social media. His fingers creased her digital face.

Less then an hour before the shooting, Lucy saw that girl alone on a train platform. She was so annoyed. What were the chances? Turns out Iris is, or at least was, the kind of kid who keeps plans with her best friend regardless of the distance or whether there’s an adult available to take her where she wants to be. But she chose that specific wrong stop to get off at, the one where Lucy was. If fate is real like she still believes it is, and if the universe hasn’t annulled her like she thought, what then?

“Why would he rob someone he knew?”

“I think he was owed money, or he thought his friend wouldn’t turn him in, but I don’t know. I wish I had a better answer for you.” She wishes she had an answer for herself, too, and she wishes Flynn had tried something else before shooting him. It’s all speculation now. She’ll die with question marks floating above her head.

“The gun was to scare him,” she continues, “but the restaurant owner— his name was Alex, did you know that?” Iris shakes her head. “He was scared too, and he pulled out his own gun. Sometimes people make bad choices when they’re scared.”

Iris is quiet, her eyes still pick and puffy. Lucy has no idea if she’s said any of the right things. She doesn’t know how to talk to children. Before Iris, the last nine year old she knew was Amy. “Were you scared?”

Lucy blinks.

“You seemed scared but also like you knew what to do.”

“Thank you.” She can’t say throwing herself at the guy and clawing his face was just a distraction so Iris could get out, that she’d been ready to die. “And you’re night I was scared. Don’t ever do what I did.”

Iris stares at her, tries to understand her. She isn’t the only one. Lucy gives a man in a business suit an irritated look. She doesn’t feel remotely sorry he finds a child’s trauma inconvenient.

The train slows and Flynn texts her that he’s waiting. She suppresses a smile. As always, he has impeccable timing.

Train’s pulling up, she replies, and puts her phone away.

“So, a group of crows is called a murder. Do you know any other fun animal group names?”

Her eyes light up. “A group of owls is called a parliament.”

“That’s wonderful.” It really is.

They exit the train. Lucy clutches her bag in one hand and Iris in the other. The rain hurts their faces and soaks their clothes, but at least it’s not cold out.

They make it to Flynn’s idling car. Lucy drops into the front seat and silently laments getting it wet.

“Hey.”

Instead of a simple hello, Flynn raises his eyebrows and glances between her and Iris in the backseat. He has a water proof jacket on, the bastard. “Did you have fun?”  

“There were a lot of crows at the park.”

Flynn has this easy smile on his face. He tries to catch Lucy’s eye, but she looks straight ahead. Things are different now. He’s married to someone else. To his credit, he gives her space, it isn’t like with Wyatt. Still, old habits die a slow and miserable death.

One of these days silence will become awkward for them. But not today, because Iris fills it with crow facts, mostly recycled ones. Lucy does learn that crows’ territories can span up to 32 square miles which is why she chose the park instead of staying closer to home, since that park appears to be a core piece of their territory.

Flynn parks in the driveway and Iris opens her door, slams it shut. “Be careful!”

But she’s already half way to the front door. Kids. Lucy probably couldn’t run like that again if her life depended on it. Hopefully those days are over.

Flynn puts his hood up, looks at her, opens his mouth and decides better of it.

She opens her door. The rain is as violent as ever. He saunters. She’s stiff as train tracks.

Not for the first time, she’s thankful for the first floor guest bedroom and bathroom, and the shower chair inside it. She malts into the hot water. This place has a seemingly unlimited supply of it.

Once upon a time, she’d taken that for granted.

It’s better this way, she used to tell herself. She became the person she needed to be for the missions to succeed. But why her? Why not someone better, more qualified?

It’s the blood in her veins, comes her answer. In the end it was a sleeper agent’s bullet and she did about as much as a houseplant. If someone, anyone, had to stand where she stood. Well, she deserves this more then someone better, someone who had nothing to do with any of it.

Lucy washes her legs, really scrubs at them, even the scar tissue on the outside of her thigh. It doesn’t help. She wants Amy back. She wants the beauty of a home that never existed.

Why is she still alive?

She flinches. Someone pounds at the door.

“Dinner’s ready.” She’d locked the bedroom door too, so Lorena’s voice has to really fight to make it through to her. “Do you want us to wait for you?”

“No.” Normal volume, too quiet.

“No! I’m not really...” ready to see people. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” It’s not even that she wants to be alone. If these were the days of the bunker or the farmhouse, she’d make her way to Flynn’s room and she’d drink or else she’d lay her head on his chest, over his heartbeat. “Thank you though.”

“We’ll save you a plate.”

It’s not her, either. Lorena’s amazing. She’s been far more accommodating then her supposed debt would require. And that is what it is, an obligation paired with kindness.

She knows that.

Her first night, she needed help covering her bandages so she could shower. Lorena helped her. She sealed Lucy’s thigh in plastic wrap and Lucy told her she didn’t have to do this, any of this. Gently, with a tight-lipped smile, Lorena said she did.

No, if anything Lucy likes her a little too much. It’s not her or Flynn or Iris. It’s the pressure of a table, the way she keeps intruding on their lives, a constant reminder of what happened.

Lucy cups her knotted skin. Her scar is rigid.

She draws out every part of the bathing process, mostly air dries siting on the bathmat. She pulls on her clothes and collapses into bed, checking her phone.

A text from Jiya, two minutes ago: I have an interview.

That’s great!!

Reading it back, it feels disingenuous, but she already hit send. I’m happy for you, she adds.

She is happy for Jiya. Working for Mason— the old Mason who’s kind of a dick— like nothing changed, has been, at best, bizarre for her and Rufus.

Lucy’s phone vibrates and Jiya’s name flashes on screen.

She’d tell her the details of the job, then she’d ask Lucy what’s new, and Lucy would tell her absolutely nothing is new. She still plans on moving out of the Flynn household. She’s still made no progress on that goal whatsoever since they last talked about it, after she obtained the real-fake documents which prove she is in fact a person born on January 24th, 1983 in the state of California, who was given a PhD and the license to drive a car.

Lucy declines the call, then texts her. I’m really tired. Can we talk tomorrow?

Sure.

Her stomach growls.

No talking, no footsteps, no plates being stacked. Just rain slapping against the house. To be sure, she listens by the door. Silence.

It’s not a guarantee, although to her knowledge Flynn hasn’t spent the night on the couch in several weeks.

The space is empty. She makes her way to the fridge, where she finds a container of pasta with meat sauce. There’s a burgundy post-it note attached. She wants to cry.

It’s her name in Lorena’s hand writing, with a heart for the U.

[avenging-criminal-bones]

After All This Time || Chapter Two

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 1457

Summary: You being a new recruit pissed SSA Aaron Hotchner off. You being smart enough to give Spencer Reid a run for his money pissed him off even more. Really, he just despised your presence. Hated your every move.

Until one day, he just… didn’t.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: general canon level violence, they talk about a new case, more angry Hotch, more angry reader

A/N: I'm excited that so many people want me to tag them! It's technically only like eight haha, but it's still so cool to me that people want to be told when I'm posting.

TAGLIST:

@kingofthetwats @wanniiieeee @uwu-sebastianstan @piggyinthesea @yoshigguk @thatisthemagic @errorcosplay67 @ivebeenthinkingboutu @big-galaxy-chaos @rynfoxsleeps

* * * * *

Chapter Two

Five months later, and you were still sitting at your desk in the late hours of the night. 12:34 AM. Too late. You had been staying at the bureau after hours to make it look like you were already taking this job as seriously as you could. To be fair, you were taking it seriously, but you figured the late hours being noticed would be a benefit.

So when your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"L/N."

"Hey, Y/N, it's JJ. Can you come in for a case? Hotch just called and woke me up. I know it's pretty late, but it's a pretty bad one, we're going to Michigan."

"Yeah, not a problem. I wasn't asleep yet." You don't lie necessarily, but it's a half-truth for sure. JJ doesn't need to know that you were already at the BAU building, less than fifty feet away from the briefing room where you would all be meeting.

"Great, thanks Y/N. See you soon."

She clicks off the phone and you sigh before pushing yourself off of the desk.

"L/N." You almost drop the coffee you had been about to sip as you spun around in your swivel chair.

"Yes, sir?" You ask casually, deciding it was better to play dumb.

"Stand."

Obeying your order, you narrow your eyes and stand up, squaring your shoulders and trying to look bigger than you are.

"Now, explain." Hotchner stands in front of you, arms crossed.

"Explain what? That I'm here and we have a case?" You shake your head as you turn away from him.

"Did I say you could turn, Agent?" His voice sends a shiver through your core and you mentally slap yourself. Now is not the time.

Spinning back around, you catch a glimpse of Derek and Garcia walking in to the briefing room. "We have a case, Hotchner. Let's ignore the fact that I was just doing my paperwork and get in there please." It takes everything in you to turn away a second time. You bend down and grab your shoes, sliding them onto your feet before walking away from him and into the room.

You can feel his gaze on your back, but you ignore it, slipping through the conference room door and letting it fall shut behind you.

"Hey guys." You greet as you sit down.

"Hot mama-"

"Hey, beautiful-"

Derek and Penelope greet you at the same time, causing you two girls to giggle and Derek to stifle his laugh because, 'men don't giggle'.

The three of you exchange small talk until the others walk in, most of them looking like they had been in the deep clutches of sleep.

Spencer's already messy hair looked ten times worse, and Emily wasn't wearing a bra, which she was subtly trying to hide by hunching her shoulders forward.

She sits beside you and you send her the 'you good?' look.

"Don't even mention it, Y/N." She threatens lightly with a laugh before Rossi, JJ, and Hotchner walked in.

You kept your gaze down, but you knew his eyes were on you.

"Garcia, you have the slideshow pulled up?" JJ asks gently, knowing that the other blonde woman absolutely despised cases like this. Really the whole team did.

"Yeah... It's a doosy, team. Not pretty at all." She shakes her head and starts the slideshow before handing the tablet to JJ.

"Okay. Ariel Stanton, Franklin Lewis, and Ella Craft. Three kids, all mutilated with their heads severed and preserved. Their bodies were found in the same area of the Raisin River in Petersburg, MI. The heads-"

Penelope got up then and mumbled a string of 'I'm sorries' before all but running out the door.

Your fingers clutched at the dress pants you were wearing as JJ asked, "Does anyone else need to leave before I keep going?"

A collective shake of the team's heads is enough to convince JJ that she can keep going.

"Their heads were all found beside the river bank, fully intact. Two of the bodies came with a note to the precinct, it read: "Fear me, for I have God on my side. God will help me cleanse the Earth of its sinners. These children had to go, for they were not with God.""

You start speaking when the profile is complete, "Okay, so the references to God and doing His work suggests that this unsub sees himself as holier than thou. Most likely a man, age 30-40 and probably grew up in a family that was very religious; they would have prayed before meals and there would be records of this family donating very generously to the church that they attended."

"No. That profile is wrong, L/N. If you had paid any attention, you'd know that the use of the word 'cleanse' means that he thinks these "sinners" are dirty, he's not thinking that he is necessarily better. I don't need your input again."

"Hotch come-"

"You do not have the right to call me that. My team calls me that. To you, I am Agent Hotchner." His gaze was cold, but there was something there.

"Fine. I'll be on the jet." You stand up and as you bend to pick your purse off the ground, Emily whispers in your ear.

"I agreed with you. I'll brief you on the jet."

You nod once and swiftly walk out of the room, "accidentally" bumping Hotchner on your way out. Luckily, he doesn't say anything about it.

Later on the jet, you have your headphones in and are listening the your favorite song of the week. Your taste in music changes frequently, but right now, you were into the old rock and were listening to Journey.

Your lips press into a hard line when you see Hotchner walking up to you. Taking your headphones out and sit up straighter.

"What do you want?" Your voice is bratty and you sigh, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

"I uh, am here to apologize. Rossi thinks it's necessary that I say 'I'm sorry'. So here I am."

You just stare at him.

"What, Y/N?"

"You had something to say?" You cross your arms and lean back in the seat.

His eyebrows furrow when he thinks about what you said and gets a bit confused. "What do you mean? I just said it."

"Oh, did you?" You turn to Spencer, who was sitting across from you, and said, "Did you hear what Hotchner just said?"

"Uh, yeah. I did, why?" He looks up from the book he was reading.

You smirk slightly at Hotch before saying, "Can you use that amazing brain of yours to tell me what he said?"

""I uh, am here to apologize. Rossi thinks it's necessary that I say 'I'm sorry'. So here I am." Why did you need that?" He says after repeating the sentences word for word.

Hotch glares at you a bit as you shrug your shoulders.

"I don't know... I just didn't hear an apology in that." You bat your eyelashes up at the older man and add, "You said that Rossi told you to apologize, but you never said that you were sorry."

"Really, L/N? You want me to get on my knees and beg you?" He asks, spitting the words out like incredulous knives.

You keep the snide tone as you reply, "If you'd like to get on your knees, I may be more inclined to accept the imminent apology."

"Don't be a brat, L/N. I get that some of your past lovers may have liked that, but it has no place in this team. I am still your superior and I recommend you treat me like one."

He walks away without having ever apologizing, and you're left there with your jaw on the floor from his parting message.

"-Yeah! And then he was like, 'Don't be a brat. Your ex probably liked it but I'm your superior-"

"O-M-G, O-M-G. What did you say back to him?!" A very excitable Emily asks from you shared hotel room in Michigan.

"Nothing. I couldn't say anything to him because he just spun and WALKED. AWAY." You nod your head at her, your eyebrows raising as you conveyed your own disbelief at the story. "Yeah, it was horrible. I was so mad."

Emily wiggles her eyebrows, causing you to shake your head.

"Whaaat? No. No!"

"Yeah, Y/N. There's some MAD sexual tension between you two."

"Oh, get out!"

As you laugh at her statement, you pick up the pillow behind you and hit her in the side of the head with it.

"You're gonna get it now."

Faking a gasp, you stand and say, "Is that a threat, Emily?"

"Yes. Now run, bitch."

Yu both giggle and spend the night acting like teenagers again. You didn't have time to think about Aaron if you wanted to which you... no.

You didn't want to.

[darthkruge]

Hello! I'm kinda new to the whole tumblr thing so sorry if this request is bad but I was wondering if maybe you could do an imagine for spencer reid where the reader is Garcia's younger sister and Garcia brings her in to meet the team because it's her first day there. Maybe Reid recognizes her from somewhere and he will not leet it go until he finds out how he knows her? Btw it's totally fine if you don't get to this! :)

Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Piano

Summary: When a new agent joins the BAU, Spencer knows he’s seen them before but literally cannot figure out where. His memory having never failed him before, he doesn’t rest until he figures it out.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral! Reader; Penelope Garcia x Sibling! Reader

Words: 1973

Warnings: A little bit of language, I think that’s all?

A/N: Hey anon!! First off, don’t worry, love! I’m honestly new to this whole tumblr thing too, but I loved this request! I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner, life’s been a bit hectic. I made it so the reader is Garcia’s younger sibling instead of sister, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to try to make writing as gender neutral as possible moving forward. Nothing against you, of course, I know I haven’t specified in past requests and I couldn’t have expected you to know, so don’t worry! That being said, sorry for rambling and I hope you like it :)

(gif isn’t mine)

“Hello, everyone! I want you to meet the youngest of the wonderful Garcia children!” Penelope led you into the BAU where you waved a bit stiffly. You weren’t a huge fan of being the center of attention, but you knew your sister loved these introductions.

Looking around, you pieced together the people you knew from Penelope’s stories. You recognized Derek immediately. You assumed from his professional stance that the taller and older dark haired man was Hotch. Logically, that meant Rossi was next to him. And Emily and JJ were the two women, smiling and waving at you encouragingly. You smiled a bit broader, immediately sensing you would be fast friends with them. Finally, your eyes landed on what had to be Spencer. You thought he was quite attractive and, from Penelope’s descriptions, he was also amazing, talented, kind, smart, basically everything you liked. You waved at him but noticed he was almost studying you? You weren’t sure, but felt a bit awkward, confused as to why he seemed friendly to everyone else but wouldn’t even smile at you.

“Umm, hi!” You said, laughing nervously and kind of hoping to disappear. Hotch sensed your discomfort and offered you a kind smile before putting you out of your misery.

“Welcome to the team, L/N. Garcia’s told us wonderful things about you. That being said, we’re just closing up tonight, so you could finish up your paperwork finalizing your transfer into the BAU if you haven’t already and then come in for your first day tomorrow?”

“Okay, thank you, Sir.”

“Goodnight, team”

Everyone echoed the “Goodnight” before filing out of the room. You got into the car with your sister and pulled out of the BAU, reflecting on your past and thinking about the next chapter of your life.

After almost everyone else had left, Spencer was still at his desk, thinking. The certified genius, was, for once, completely at a loss. He couldn’t figure it out. Where had he seen you before? He was currently in the process of mapping out every place he’d gone to over the last few months. Every restaurant, every film festival, every face he saw in passing at crosswalks, through car windows, at coffee stands, and, still, nothing.

“Woah, Pretty Boy, slow down! What’s got you so riled up?” Derek says, walking over to where Spencer was hunched over his notebook, furiously writing.

“I can’t figure it out, I know we’ve met before or I’ve seen them before or something. I just,” Spencer put his head in his hands, eyes starting to burn a bit from the strain of writing and concentrating for so long, “I just know it”

“Seen who before?”

“Y/N, the new agent. They’re so familiar, but for some reason I just can’t figure it out”

“Ohh! Garcia’s their sister, right?”

Spencer nodded and Derek came behind him, seeing the messy timeline and pages of notes scattered around the agent.

“Are you sure you’ve seen them? I mean, we see lots of people on the job. You could have just seen someone who looked like them, you know? And come on, Reid, your memory is, like, insane . If you’d met, you’d have remembered”

“I know, that’s what’s got me so messed up.” Spencer sighed.

“Take a rest, kid. It’s late, get back to it tomorrow. Maybe they’ll visit you in your dreams…” Derek said, wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he walked away.

Spencer laughed, hoping Derek was right. He’d do anything to get more time with you, even if it was in his subconscious. Honestly, he felt a bit bad. He’d been so caught up in figuring how he knew you that he’d kind of forgotten to actually talk to you. Normally, he’d have caught a new recruit before they left, but he didn’t get the chance with you. After packing up, Spencer went home and continued his search with you on the forefront of his mind.

Meanwhile, you had just gotten back to your sister’s apartment. You had your own place but you were new to the team and felt a bit lonely. Mentally, you didn’t want to be alone at home, too.

“Hey, Pen, what’s up with Reid?” You asked. You were confused, you knew he was quiet but he seemed to be actively ignoring you. Even stranger, you caught him intensely staring at you, as if he was trying to figure something out.

“He’s just shy, Y/N. But he’ll warm up to you, don’t worry! Honestly, I think the both of you would be a pretty good match. If you want, I can do some of my famous matchmaking!”

“Please, noooooo,” You groaned, dragging out the word.

“Come on! I’m great at it!”

“No! Remember last time? I ended up on a blind date with a guy who, within the first three minutes, told me he liked me because he saw similarities between me and his parents!! Then, he proceeded to detail their divorce for the next 45 minutes!”

Penelope was laughing hysterically, “I mean, you did say you liked emotionally available people!”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at her head, dying in your own fit of laughter.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m going to bed. I can’t be conscious in the same house as you anymore” You say, smiling and jokingly flipping your sister off as you walk away and into the guest room.

Naturally, she returned the gesture.

When Spencer arrived at work the next morning, his eyes were bloodshot, hair was sticking up in a million different directions, and clothes were exceptionally disheveled. Anyone else and you would have thought they had a really bad (or great) one-night stand. Although you weren’t close with him, you just didn’t see him being that type of guy. You laughed a bit as he grimaced, taking a sip of what looked like extremely bitter coffee.

Deciding to try and break the ice, you went over to him. “Long night?”

Spencer’s head shot up. “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that” He said, laughing a bit.

You smiled. Even though he was awkward, you felt at ease in his company. “I get that, I’ve had a few long nights myself. I love the job, don’t get me wrong, but the way the BAU runs is different from anything else I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Yeah. It can be a bit of an adjustment, but you’ll be fine. You’re doing great. I mean, you arrived early, so I can already assume you’re organized. And your desk is a little messy, leading me to believe you’re a creative person. Your handwriting is quite slanted, too. I recognized it from your entry forms. Did you know that’s a sign of high intelligence? Because your thoughts are moving so quickly, your hand can’t keep up in the “perfect” way, so the letters normally slant and become more sloppy.”

You were mesmerized by him. You could watch him talk for hours, truly. Sure, he wasn’t always graceful, but he was so passionate about everything he talked about. You loved listening to people talk about what they love. The way their eyes light up, it makes the energy surrounding them contagious.

Realizing he had just psychoanalyzed you without permission, Spencer looked at your sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to profile you. It’s sometimes hard to shut off, especially around new people.”

“I get that. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You said, nodding knowingly.

As you said that, Spencer figured it out. He remembered one time visiting his mother in Vegas and hearing you say those exact words. You were playing the piano, talking to a patient who had just accidentally spilled some water on your sheet music as they took their medicine. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I was in need of new music, anyway” You had responded, laughing. He was surprised he didn’t immediately recognize you, the beautiful and talented person he’d seen that day. But, it did make sense, in a way. Spencer’s memory is always at its highest and weakest when he’s with his mother. He can remember each of their conversations, verbatim, but everything else fades.

“Spencer? You alright?” He had been kind of spacing out for a few moments and you were afraid you did something wrong.

His attention came back to you and he smiled again, brighter this time. “You play piano.” He stated.

Your breath caught and you let out a small laugh, extremely confused. “Uhh, yeah, I do. I’m sure you’re great, but that seems extreme even for you, Mr. Profiler”

Spencer laughed. “No! I didn’t profile you, I just, I remember you. Las Vegas, March 12th, Psychiatric Hospital, you were playing piano. A patient spilled water on you. I remember you.”

“Oh, right! Ms. Owens! She’s lovely. You were there that day? Well, either that or you just gave yourself up as a damn good stalker”

“No, no, not that,” He said, a shy smile playing on his lips, “My mother’s a patient there, Diana Reid? I’m not sure if you know her.”

“Yeah! She’s quite a character. I always enjoyed playing on days Diana was there.” You reminisced for a second, lost in the memory.

“Were you visiting someone there, too?” He said, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Not exactly. My grandfather was a patient before he passed. He taught me how to play and I kind of just asked the staff if I could volunteer and continue to after he left. They were kind enough to let me. I mean, he always encouraged me to perform and I thought it was a nice way to honor his memory. A few months later I heard from Penelope that there was an opening at the BAU. I moved out, and, well, here I am.” You gestured to yourself, slightly embarrassed after you realized you might have overshared.

Spencer caught onto this, however, and quickly reassured you. “That’s amazing, Y/N. You were amazing when I heard you. I wish I could have heard you play again.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet, Spencer.” You said, resting your hand atop his, a blush forming in his cheeks at the touch.

“Um, if you don’t have plans. I mean, not to assume you don’t have plans, just if you, you know, happen to not be busy, would you want to maybe get dinner sometime? You don’t have to, of course! I wouldn’t be offended! I just kind of want to get to know you more. If that’s alright with you.” He trailed off, not making eye contact and playing with the buttons on his shirt a bit as he awaited your answer.

Deciding to be bold, you gently turned his face to meet yours and smiled. “I would love to. Tomorrow, pick me up at 8:00?”

“Yeah! Here’s my number, text me your address?”

You smiled and nodded, taking his phone. He took the moment to just look at you. You were truly one of the most breathtaking people he’d ever met. He couldn’t believe he’d just gotten you to agree to go out with him. Even so, he wouldn’t question it. If something in the universe gave this to him, he wouldn’t risk it for a second.

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek as you slipped the phone back into his hand. As you pulled away, Spencer cupped your cheek and pulled you back in for a kiss. His lips tasted sweet and soft and a sense of serenity washed over you as you stood in the middle of the BAU, kissing him. Everything faded away and quickly came into focus again as he pulled away, far too soon for your liking.

“More of that tomorrow” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You smiled, “That’s fine by me.”

~requests are open~

[mattmurdocksscars]

Just A Dream

Some Santiago angst with a hopeful ending. Might do a follow-up to this one, not too sure yet. This is based on and uses a cover of the song Just a Dream. I love this cover so much and I hope you enjoy it as well! 

Fair warning, I totally wrote this in one go so if there are grammar issues, spelling issues, etc. I’m sorry 😂

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word Count: 2508

It didn’t matter that it had been over 2 years since the last time you saw Santiago Garcia, you still missed him every day. He had been your everything, the one you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with… but then he’d told you he was going to Columbia. The two of you had fought bitterly. You, wondering why you weren’t enough to keep him here, and him, wondering why you wouldn’t let him do this one last mission. Words of anger had poured from both of your lips, wounding the other easier than a blade or bullet ever could. Santi had slept on the couch that night and was gone by the time you woke in the morning. You had instantly regretted the words you’d said, the feeling intensified by his refusal to answer your calls or texts. You found out from Frankie that he had left immediately for the airport and was already in the air by the time you’d found him gone. Frankie had then held you as you’d broken down, angry and broken over the fact that he hadn’t given you a chance to fix things.

So, for over two years, you missed him. You saw him in strangers on the streets or in coffee shops. You looked for him in every vaguely familiar face you passed. Yet never once was he there. Santiago would contact Frankie occasionally, but never you. You would ask Frankie to pass a message along for you whenever he spoke to Santiago, but it was never answered. Santiago would simply gloss over it. It broke you down, turned you into a shell of the woman you used to be. It took Frankie, Will, and Benny finally sitting you down and giving you tough love for you to snap out of it. You still missed him, oh did you miss him, but you started doing the things you loved again. You started spending time with the boys again and even made some new friends.

When Frankie told you that Santiago was back in town to recruit him and the other boys for some recce, you had waiting with bated breath, hoping he would reach out or swing by. He never did and the five men left to complete one more mission together. When Frankie called you on his way back into the country, you had cried in relief and in sadness. Tom and you had never really gotten along, but he was important to the other boys. You knew that Santiago would be blaming himself, knew that Frankie, Will, and Benny would be too. You met them in the airport when they came back, crying again when you saw the three boys who had become like brothers to you. Despite your joy at seeing them, your heart still didn’t feel whole. Santiago was nowhere to be found and when you had turned inquisitive eyes to Frankie, he had simply sighed and shook his head. Santiago was still not coming home.

You buried yourself in distractions. You worked, taking overtime whenever possible, spent time with the boys, started going out with your new friends. They’d convinced you to start meeting with them every Saturday night and then eventually convinced you to sing karaoke with them. You were no star, but you could carry a tune and had a decent voice and you found that singing was an incredible way to release all of your pent-up emotions. The boys had even come to see you a few times, cheering you on obnoxiously loudly. It was one such night, that your whole world flipped upside down.

Frankie had text you earlier that day to tell you that Santiago was back in town. Your hands had shaken as you texted him back, asking him the same question you always did: Will he talk to me? Frankie was honest, told you that he wasn’t sure, but he would try. When you didn’t hear anything further from him, you continued with your usual ritual of getting ready and heading to the bar with your friends. You lost yourself in the music, singing a few songs with your friends and on your own. It was as you were getting ready for a solo that you looked up and everything stopped. Entering the bar was the boys, one Santiago Garcia in tow. Your name was called, and your attention snapped over to the announcer, your heart pounding as you remembered your song choice. Wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans, you walked up and took the mic, the crowd cheering you on. You took a deep breath and smiled, determined to force the knowledge of Santi being in the same room as you for the first time to the back of your mind. The music started, a piano medley to begin, and you closed your eyes, waiting on your time to come in.

I was thinkin about you, thinkin about me

Thinkin about us, what we gonna be?

Open my eyes

It was only just a dream

Travel back, down that road

Will you come back? No one knows

I realize, it was only just a dream

Opening your eyes, the lights helped blind you to the audience, helping you forget just who was watching you. Swaying gently, you poured your heart into the performance.

I was at the top and now it’s like I'm in the basement

Number one spot and now you found your own replacement

I swear now that I can't take it, knowing somebody's got my baby

And now you ain't around, baby I can't think

You sang through the rest of the verse and the chorus with no problems, but the start of the second verse had your eyes stinging as you fought back tears.

When I be ridin, And I swear I see your face at every turn

I'm trying to get my usher on, but I can't let it burn

And I just hope you know that you're the only one I yearn for

More and more I miss him, when will I learn?

Didn't give it all my love

I guess now I got my payback

Now I'm in the club thinking all about you baby

Hey, you were so easy to love

But wait, I guess our love wasn't enough

I'm goin through it every time that I'm alone

And now I'm wishing that you'd pick up the phone

But you made a decision that you wanted to move on

Cuz I was wrong

It took every bit of strength in you to make it through the verse without crying. This part had always hit you so hard, feeling it so strongly due to what had happened in yours and Santiago’s relationship. Singing through the second chorus, you took a deep breath as you headed into the third verse, opening your eyes again to look out at the crowd. They were like shadows to you but even still, you would recognize your boys anywhere. Forcing your eyes away from them and back to the main crowd, you slowly raised one of your hands.

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

And now they're gone and you're wishing you could give them everything

Said if you ever loved somebody put your hands up

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

Now they're gone and you're wishing you could give them everything

You drug the last word of the verse out, adding your own flair as you always did. Singing the last two chorus, you continued to adjust it and put every ounce of heartbreak and longing you had into it. As your last note faded out and the music finished, you were greeted with thunderous applause. Laughing in shock, you quickly gave the mic back to the announcer and headed back over to your friends. They were ecstatic, congratulating you and telling you about how this was the best one you’d done yet. You grinned, blushing at their praise.

“Hey! Aren’t those your other friends? Who’s the cute new guy with them?” And just like that, your good mood tanked. You looked over at their table, Benny waving enthusiastically at you as he always did, and turned back to your friends before the others could look over.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s them. Umm.. you remember me telling you about my ex?”

“Yeah, the jackass that left you after a fight and has been gone for two… years… Fuck.” Realization had dawned on the groups face and you smiled tentatively at them. Immediately, an arm was wrapped around your shoulders and you were pulled roughly, but lovingly, into one of the girls’ sides.

“Fuck him. If he thinks he can just walk back into your life after the shit he put you through, he’s dead wrong.” Ah yes. That was Zoe. Fiercely protective, she was like a sister to you. Taking a deep breath, you patted her hand that was on your shoulder.

“Relax. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night and I’ll deal with it later.” You told her softly. She looked at you, checking to make sure you were actually alright, before nodding. With a mischievous grin, she flagged down your waitress and ordered the two of you shots, much to your amusement. When they arrived, she handed you yours and held hers aloft. You matched her action and clinked the glasses together, tapped them on the table, and tossed yours back.

“To a good rest of the night.” She told you and you grinned, nodding in agreement. For the first time ever, you never went over to the boys’ table. You stayed with your friends but despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop your eyes wandering every now and then. The first time you caught Santi’s eye, your breath caught in your chest as you tried to figure out what to do but Santi solved it for you, tipping his head and giving you a tentative smile. You had taken a deep breath and given him a shaky smile before your friends had called your attention back to them.

The two of you spend the rest of the night like that. Sneaking glances at the other and looking away shortly after locking eyes. A part of you so desperately wanted to cross the bar and jump into Santiago’s arms, but a bigger part of you was afraid and a little angry. Your friends were right to an extent. He didn’t deserve to just waltz back into your life. You also had no idea if that was even what he wanted. For all you knew, he had moved on.

As the night came to an end, you helped your friends out and got them into their rides safe and sound. Watching the last one leave, you took a deep breath and let it out. Closing your eyes, you stood in the darkness for a few moments but jumped as a voice broke the silence.

“It’s pretty dangerous to stand outside of a bar this late at night, you know.” Every muscle in your body locked up, your spine going ramrod straight, and your breathing halting. Walking towards you was Santiago, hands shoved into his pockets. You stared at him wide-eyed for several seconds, giving him time to approach you and stand across from you. His eyes flitted over your form, seeming to drink you in. It gave you time to get your brain back online and formulate a response.

“Luckily for me, I know three knuckleheads who would kick the ass of anyone who tried to hurt me.” You told him. It was your turn to let your gaze wander over him, and you were surprised when he seemed to be hurt by what you said.

“Just three?” He asked you, voice soft and questioning. Your eyebrows shot up and you stared at him in shock before you furrowed your brows, a spark of anger igniting in your chest.

“You tell me, Santiago.” This time he actually flinched, the use of his full name causing him to look down at his boots. You watched his jaw clench, and it was so hard to keep yourself from reaching out to comfort him. You shoved your traitorous hands into your own pockets and continued to stare at him, waiting for his response. He took a deep breath and dragged his gaze to up to meet yours and you were shocked at the amount of emotion in them.

“I’m sorry. I never should have left the way I did. I regretted it the second that plane took off, but I was too much of a coward to fix my mistake.  Every time I called Frankie, I hoped he would give me an update on you-“

“So why the hell didn’t you call me?” You asked, voice wavering as you felt the past two years’ worth of hurt boil over, tears slipping down your cheeks. The pain on your face was mirrored on Santi’s as he watched you break down, his own tears welling up.

“I knew if I heard your voice, heard how much I had hurt you… nothing would have stopped me from coming back to you but I… I was afraid. How was I supposed to face you after leaving like I did?”

“So what? You think you can just come back after over two years and think all is forgiven?”

“No! I… I want you to give me a chance. I’m not asking for things to go back to the way they were. I’m asking you to let me win you over again. Let me spend every day making it up to you and proving to you that I will never leave you again.” His stare bored into yours, both of you crying now. You looked at him and you saw all of the pain you’d been through in his absence, but you also saw the potential you’d always seen. A bright future, one full of love. Taking a deep, steadying breath you stepped closer to him. Pulling your hands out of your pockets you reached for his, tugging them out of his pockets and holding them. Looking down at them, you marveled how they fit in yours like they used to.

“One chance, Garcia. One. Don’t make me regret it.” Santiago immediately tugged you into his arms, holding you close to him. You clung to him just as tight before pulling away slowly. You put one hand on his cheek, running your thumb over his skin, before stepping back. You nodded to him and smiled.

“You better come at this with your A game. I expect nothing less.” Pressing a kiss to his other cheek, you let your hand fall and turned away, walking away from him, and feeling lighter than you had since before he left.

“I will, mi alma. I swear it.” He whispered, watching you walk away and feeling like he might finally be righting his wrongs.

[hotchley]

the waiting game

Lol, my laptop is at 2%. Look, I’ll be back in an hour to do my masterlist, I just really, really need to get this done because it should’ve been done many months ago.

It’s fine. Umm... yeah, nothing else to say :)

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, references to child abuse, death threats from a parent, bombings

read on ao3!

Jason Gideon always told new recruits that certain things about their jobs got easier with time and experience. He told them their hands would remain steady when they fired a gun and that the noise would not always make them flinch. He told them they would get used to late-night calls and sleepless nights. that they wouldn’t always find it so difficult when the people they loved walked away, unable to handle not knowing what was going to happen.

A lot of things about their job got easier.

The waiting game only got harder.

Because you learnt things

Gideon had been on the team longer than the other members put together. he knew what happened when each of his members ended up in the hospital. He’d made a point of taking Reid each time, just so he could be sure his order of events was correct.

Adrian Bale meant he’d had six less agents to remember.

That was supposed to have been the last time Aaron Hotchner ended up in the hospital, unconscious and barely breathing. Gideon had vowed to himself that no matter how difficult it was, Hotch would make it home to Haley and Jack every night.

But he’d failed.

Aaron hadn’t wanted Elle going home. he’d taken her to the same hotel Haley was in. Elle had felt a little uncomfortable being in the adjoining room, but her discomfort quickly faded. Haley seemed used to looking after Aaron’s second family and Jack was still willing to be held by strangers.

He’d swung by her place to make sure it was safe.

It hadn’t been, but he was the best shot in the BAU. No, not just the BAU, the entire Quantico building. He was so good that when he demanded that they passed Reid with flying colours, nobody questioned him.

There had been- in his words- a small scuffle but he was fine.

Everyone was too exhausted to argue or even notice. But Gideon knew he should’ve said something. He’d known Aaron Hotchner since he had been dragged in by David Rossi, somehow bright-eyed and cynical at the same time.

He should’ve known Aaron was more hurt than he was willing to let on. He always was. and he should have realised before he sent him into another building that contained an innocent civilian and somebody that they couldn’t really profile. Somebody that they couldn’t plan the endgame of.

It felt like Adrian Bale all over again.

Only everyone had known Aaron was going to survive the moment he pulled the oxygen mask off his face, demanded to know who was representing Bale in his trial before passing out again.

Now... none of that could be confirmed.

He hadn’t been able to stay conscious enough to ask for Haley.

“Tell me what happened,” he asked again. Morgan and Reid had refused the other six times he’d asked them. Six hours Hotch had been in the hospital. He still wasn’t awake.

“Gideon this isn’t going to help anyone, least of all you,” Morgan sighed.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“He was carrying Rebecca out of the building because it was on fire. Then he suddenly dropped her on the grass and keeled over, one hand pressed to his side. Morgan grabbed Rebecca, got her out. I tried to help Hotch, but he told me to run. And I did. And then the building exploded and-”

And that was when he’d got the phone call from Reid. Morgan had phoned the ambulance the moment Hotch fell. Reid had phoned Gideon, barely able to string two sentences together. It was as though his eidetic memory and IQ had just been taken from him.

Reid looked away, unable to say another word. His cheeks were stained with tears, his foot-tapping the only comfort he was able to provide himself.

“He wouldn’t have got hurt if I’d gone home,” Elle whispered.

“You can’t blame yourself,” JJ murmured, but she sounded distant. Like she was trying to stay in liaison mode but couldn’t. She hadn’t even been with the BAU for a year the last time Hotch had ended up in the hospital. She’d been terrified then. Now she just looked tired.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Gideon added, wishing he could see what was going on. But the door to the room Hotch was in had been closed, the curtains pulled around. “If you’d gone home, in the state you were in, you wouldn’t have won. It’d be you in there, and Hotch would be pacing outside blaming himself.” Besides, he thought to himself. The only person that should be blaming themselves was him. He was supposed to have Hotch’s back. He was the one that was supposed to be able to read all his tells without even having to try and profile him.

Hotch was still in surgery. In all the cases that had ended with Hotch landing himself in the hospital, the surgeries had been minor. When Adrian Bale had struck, he’d spent four hours in surgery. In Gideon’s opinion, the injuries sustained from that had been more serious.

Hotch had been in surgery for six and a half hours. That didn’t fit the pattern. It didn’t fit the pattern and Gideon knew this time that it wasn’t a good thing.

 “You shouldn’t blame yourself either,” a soft voice said from behind them.

“Haley,” he whispered.

Haley gave them all a hesitant smile. It was clear she’d been sobbing and was only being held together by the thinnest thread. “How are you all holding up?”

The laugh Garcia let out was slightly hysterical. “Mrs Hotchner, we’re not important. You are. So is your husband. How are you doing?”

The corners of her mouth turned downwards. “I don’t feel like it’s hit me yet. I’ve known for a very long time there’s a chance he won’t come down and I’ve always prepared for that, but it just doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting him to walk out that door with his arm in a sling and a goofy smile because of the pain medication.”

“We’ll be here when it does hit. And we’ll help in any way we can,” JJ promised.

Haley nodded, shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I know. Aaron always said that he wasn’t afraid of dying. Not when he knew his team would be there to tell Jack stories and stop me from resenting the only piece of him that I would have left.”

“Where is the little one?” Morgan asked, both to lighten the mood and to change the subject. They’d never realized how much Hotch loved them all. How much he trusted them.

“With my sister. We didn’t- after Boston- oh my god, it’s just like Boston isn’t it? He’s going to, he won’t- I-” she whimpered, the dam finally breaking.

It was Garcia that reacted first. It was a stark contrast, Penelope’s brightness against the subdued pastels of Haley’s pajamas- and Gideon wanted to be sick, she must have been ready to go to sleep when she got the phone call- but it was needed.

When Garcia pulled away, not quite letting go, Haley wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, after Boston, we agreed that Jack- we hadn’t picked his name then, god it feels like yesterday, that we wouldn’t let him see us in the hospital. We wanted to let him believe his parents were invincible for as long as possible.”

Gideon knew that promise. he also knew that Hotch had promised to step down once Gideon returned. He had been selfish when he’d asked him not to.

“He’ll make it out,” Elle said.

She hadn’t witnessed Adrian Bale’s attack on Gideon. That’s how she was able to stay so positive. But everyone else had. They’d watched as twenty-two civilians had been taken hostage, as Hotch had gone into the building to try and negotiate with him, despite Gideon explicitly forbidding him to do so because Haley was waiting at home for him.

That was the one and only time Hotch’s anger had been directed at a member of the team. His eyes had darkened, his voice pitched lower than they’d ever heard it. He’d looked Gideon in the eye, no longer the scared recruit, and told him to go fuck himself.

He’d walked into the building. Without a vest. The only weapon being the gun in the holster that was attached to his belt. One of the hostages had been forced to take it from him. Aaron had given them the same encouraging smile he gave to all the victims they saved, to all the distraught family members that were scared of being the cause of their loved one’s end. 

Adrian Bale had taken one look at him and laughed. That had thrown Hotch off. He had thought that seeing the lead profiler of the elite BAU team would make him sweat and give him what he wanted. He said as much.

Adrian Bale said that when he looked at Aaron Hotchner, he didn’t see the lead profiler or bad cop. He didn’t see the head of the Seattle field office or one of the best shots SWAT had ever seen. He didn’t even see the hotshot prosecutor he’d began as.

Aaron asked him what he did see.

Bale’s response haunted everyone. He said he saw a boy too afraid of his own feelings to ever truly love anyone. He said the only reason Hotch had walked in was because he was too much of a coward to leave his pregnant wife but if he died in the line of duty, well that was different. He said Aaron loved Jason Gideon and all he wanted was his approval.

The camera was grainy, but the tremble in Aaron’s hands was unmistakable.

Morgan had tried to run in. It was Gideon’s arm that had stopped in. It was Gideon that had said they needed to wait to get Hotch out. It was Gideon that had misread Aaron’s body language and sent six of his best agents in.

They didn’t need eidetic memories to have the look of complete fear on Gideon’s face when Hotch was blown away branded in their brain forever. Or the scream he’d released when they finally uncovered the body, the rise and fall of his chest barely noticeable. Or to remember how Haley had arrived two days later because of problems with flight bookings, face devoid of any colour, the swell of her stomach a stark reminder of everything that would be lost if Hotch didn’t pull through.

Elle Greenaway only knew SSA Hotchner: the man that stared down unsubs, barked orders at everyone, carried a back-up weapon because he was just that good and never smiled. She didn’t know him as Aaron, the man that hated hospitals so much that every time he regained consciousness, the doctors had been forced to sedate him for his own benefit. Or that the only person that had been able to touch him was Haley, his mouth trying to form her name but never making it past the first syllable, despite all his years of spinning stories to a jury.

Or that the only reason Hotch carried a back-up was because very few people would notice it was there. John Blackwolf had thrown him off, made him doubt again. Gideon had found it difficult to convince him everything was fine, so he didn’t. He just dropped him home to Haley and watched from his car as Hotch became Aaron, falling apart in Haley’s arms.

“I know,” Haley whispered, pulling Gideon from his memories. 

“Would you like anything to drink? I can go and grab you a coffee if you want,” he said, needing to do something other than watch his team fall to pieces. Aaron was the one that sat and reminded them they were human, that it wasn’t their fault. It was the reason they would call him mom. Gideon was just there.

Haley shook her head. “I want you to be here. In case you’re needed.”

Because of course he would be. Haley Hotchner was Aaron’s wife, so she was automatically listed as his medical proxy. But Aaron never wanted her to be burdened by his job any more than she already was. Which meant if something happened in the field. the doctors were to automatically defer to Gideon. Haley was consulted if it was something non-case related.

“Of course,” he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Excuse me? Are you all here for Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes,” Haley said, the first to find their voice as the profilers tried to work out whether the news they were about to be given was good or bad.

“He’s out of surgery, there were no complications there and we’ve got him through the worst of it. But he’s still not woken up, and his breathing is shallow, hence the reason we haven’t taken him off the ventilator yet. So as much as we want to hope for the best, I want you to understand there is a chance he may not make it. His body has been put through a lot in the past year.”

Gideon did not want to think about every injury Hotch had been forced to suffer through since returning. The collar of his shirts had never quite hidden the bruised skin where Perotta had touched him.

“Can we see him?” Haley asked. She looked so young. So vulnerable. Gideon swallowed. She’d never been forced to hide her emotions the same way Hotch had. She’d never been afraid of being profiled. He doubted she ever had been, Hotch was too honourable.

“My colleagues are still treating him. I think it’d be better if we waited until he woke up. You should all get some rest, you look exhausted.”

Haley shook her head. “I’d like to be here.”

“Of course,” the doctor said, turning on their heel and walking away again.

“I’m just going to phone Jessica and ask her to keep Jack for a little longer,” she said, voice trembling.

Everyone nodded and chose not to comment when Haley vanished for ten minutes, returning with red-rimmed eyes.

“He trusted me to save his life when I hadn’t even passed my gun qualification,” Reid said suddenly.

“I know. He told me about that. He said he knew you could do it, that it would just take a bit of a patience and maybe an extremely stressful situation. Apparently, you do your best work under intense terror. Not that he wanted the two of you to end up hostages He also blamed himself when you didn’t pass. Thought he’d scared you so much when you were practicing that you got in your head and just forgot everything, even though that’s impossible,” Haley responded.

Reid’s head jerked up in response. “He actually said that to you?”

Haley nodded. “He tells me about all of you. He sees Sean- you met him didn’t you, yes you did- in you. You’re both young. Got the whole world to explore and yet you chose to do the one thing nobody expected.”

“I bet he always has bad stories about me,” Morgan teased. 

“He trusts you. More than you think he does. And he wants you to trust him as well. He doesn’t listen when I say you do; you just show it in a different way. All you profilers show things in a different way. That’s what I’ve learnt. That there are some things you will never see the same way.”

“What does he say about me?” Elle asked, genuinely curious. She’d only met Haley in passing; the day they bought Jack in. And the time they’d spent in the hotel could hardly count.

“A lot. He’s scared this job is going to take your sense of humour away. He thinks that you’re going to wake up one day and hate him for letting this job consume your life. He worries about all of you though.”

“He worries about all of us?” that was JJ. 

“Of course. He thinks that he’s taking your chances at happiness away from you by calling you in at ungodly hours, disrupting your vacations, making you look at what happens to happy couples and innocent children- I really shouldn’t say anymore I just always assumed you knew.”

“We don’t profile team members,” Elle said, slightly defensive.

“I didn’t think you did. I just assumed he spoke to you,” Haley said, but there was no accusation in her tone. Just the smallest amount of surprise and confusion.

The members of the team started staring awkwardly in various directions, suddenly aware of how little Hotch actually shared with them. Only Morgan had even known Sean existed, and that was only because he’d knocked on the office door that one time.

Loud shouts from the room Hotch was in drew their attention. Everyone immediately stood, Haley and Jason moving forward so they would be the first person the doctor spoke to. They were too far away to determine the specifics of the conversation, but from the volume and range of voices they could hear told him it was a group of doctors and nurses.

The shouting stopped soon after though, and Gideon immediately knew that the silence could only mean that Hotch had been sedated. A part of him was glad the other man had woken up, but he was mostly wondering it that was the last time it would happen.

A few minutes passed. Garcia was humming to herself. Morgan was sat, staring at the wall, eyes glazed over as he ran through every moment that led up to the explosion. JJ was biting her nails. Gideon wanted to tell her to stop but he couldn’t. That was what Hotch did. Haley tugged her hand away and grasped it. Elle placed her hand on Reid’s knee. He stopped tapping his foot, looking up at her with the same confused look he wore when someone referenced pop culture. Elle smiled slightly. Gideon stood to the side. He didn’t deserve them.

The same doctor as before exited the room.

“He keeps asking after his father,” she said. 

Haley immediately jumped out of her chair and went over before Gideon could get a single word out. Hotch had never mentioned his father after ending up in the hospital. Sometimes he asked if Sean was safe. Most of the time he asked for Haley. Never once had he mentioned his parents. Jason did not know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, but despite every part of him wanting to hope, he knew he was aware of the answer and that he was just too cowardly to admit it

“You have to let me in there,” she said.

“Mrs Hotchner with all due respect-”

“No. I know my husband’s medical history. You can’t keep sedating him, not when he needs to be conscious to answer your questions and not when there are only so many drugs his body can handle. But he isn’t asking after his father because he loves him. He’s asking where he is because he thinks he needs to work out how much more time he’s got before he needs to start pretending again. Let me in there, and he’ll cooperate.”

The doctor seemed to understand that there was no way they’d be able to win that particular battle. They sighed, then extended one arm to the door. Haley ran into the room, everyone else congregating outside.

“The painkillers will wear off in a few minutes,” the doctor told them all.

Haley nodded, immediately going to kneel beside Hotch’s bed, gently taking one hand and holding it tight, He was paler than anyone had ever seen him. His stomach was a mess of bruises and burns, some recent, others marks from a childhood that never should have happened.

Gideon watched, tears forming in his eyes. Hotch looked younger with his eyes closed. The pressures of the year seemed to fade, only to be made even clearer by the damage not covered by the hospital gown.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” Reid asked, five minutes later. His voice was shaky.

Haley’s grip tightened minutely. “Baby?” she whispered.

Aaron didn’t move. His heartrate remained steady, the beeping of the monitor the only sound that filled the room.

The doctors and nurses were preparing to do the rest of what they needed to do. Gideon felt his own heart slowing down. Aaron’s heart was beating but his eyes weren’t opening and the rise and fall of his chest was a shallow as when they’d first found him after Bale and none of this fit the pattern-

“I didn’t mean it, I swear, none of this was supposed to happen-” Aaron murmured, head rolling to the side.

Haley gasped and let go of his hand, just for a moment, before she realised what she’d done and grasped it again. “Aaron?”

Aaron’s eyes fluttered open.  He struggled to keep them like that. “Where am I?” he whispered, southern accent coming out slightly.

That fit the pattern of his recovery.

“Mr Hotchner, you’re in Lockhart Hospital. Can you tell me your birth name and date of birth?” a nurse asked, voice firm but gentle.

“Hospital? No, I can’t be in the hospital, he’ll find me. He said he’ll kill mama and make me watch but I swear I didn’t come here myself, where is he, I can’t let him hurt them, I can’t-”

One of the members of staff prepared an injection.

“Don’t,” Haley warned, shifting closer to him.

“Mrs Hotchner-”

“Just a moment. I promise. Hey sunshine. It’s me. It’s Haley. You’re safe, I promise. He can’t hurt you. He’s dead now. He’s not here, and nobody is going to hurt you. Everybody just wants you to get better. Your team are here. You remember them right? Agent Gideon, Doctor Reid. Garcia and Morgan and JJ and Elle? Yes, you remember them. Well they’re all waiting for you to recover because they love you. I love you too. And nobody is going to hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Haley?” Aaron whispered.

Haley nodded. “I’m right here sunshine. And I’ll be right here when you’re ready to recover. So take a deep breath with me, that’s so good, I’m so proud of you sunshine, just keep doing that. Are you going to close your eyes? Okay. Just please wake- when you wake up, remember that you’re safe. Can you do that for me?”

“Safe,” Aaron repeated as his eyes closed, unable to take the pain he must’ve still been in.

Haley didn’t let go of her husband. 

One of the nurses tapped her shoulder then quietly asked if she’d be okay waiting outside as they prepared the room for the next time he woke up, as they were no longer keeping him sedated and he seemed to be breathing himself, which meant they could move on.

Haley nodded and let go of Hotch’s hand. When she faced the team, Garcia immediately embraced her, and she started crying again.

“Let’s go back to the waiting room,” Gideon said, unable to handle the sight any longer. Garcia didn’t let go of Haley, choosing instead to wrap her arm around her as they left. 

“When Aaron was seventeen, his dad broke his arm and then refused to let him go to the hospital. He passed out in the middle of a lesson the next day and the school were forced to call an ambulance. He didn’t become coherent till they got there, and he wouldn’t stop screaming. I’d snuck in and was the only person he wouldn’t flinch away from,” she said once they’d all sat down.

Elle’s jaw dropped. Garcia started crying herself. Morgan looked away. JJ and Reid grabbed each other’s hands. They’d all assumed something had gone on in Hotch’s childhood- he never spoke about his family, he was always rougher with unsubs that they profiled as being abusive fathers- but there was a difference between making the inference and hearing it from the person that knew him best.

“He’s lucky to have you,” Jason commented.

“Allowing him to feel his emotions and letting him know that he’s safe is doing the bare minimum,” Haley said.

He didn’t have a comeback to that.

Thirty minutes passed before the doctor came back. It was good news. The profilers could tell. 

“He’s awake and stable enough to receive visitors now,” they said.

Everyone jumped out.

“Go on,” Gideon said to Haley, who dashed into the room and hugged her husband.

He made a small sound of discomfort, but still tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Hi Haley,” he whispered.

She laughed, sitting on the bed beside him. “You’re okay.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

The rest of the team filed into the room. Reid looked ready to cry again.

“Spencer, you cannot blame yourself. I told you to run because I wanted you to, and if you hadn’t, I’d be furious at you for always trying to be the hero. Elle, the same goes for you. I took you to the hotel. Nobody asked me to go to your house, so stop looking at me like I’m about to break. I’ll be fine,” he said. 

Hospital painkillers had always made him lose his filter.

Garcia started laughing. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny, but sir your accent is coming through and it’s so hard to take you seriously when you’re laid up in bed with your hair all mussed and your accent but you’re still trying to tell them off and, it’s just, it’s confirmation you’re going to be fine.”

Hotch gave her a grin. Haley ran her hand through his hair, messing it up further.

“Thanks Hotch,” Reid said. He rocked on the balls of his feet for a few moments before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like fuck it and he too went and hugged Hotch. Haley shifted slightly. Hotch raised his arms to wrap around Reid’s back.

“Everything will be fine,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Reid pulled back with tears in his eyes but a smile on his face.

“No more close calls like that. You hear me?” Morgan chastised, patting Hotch’s shoulder.

Hotch rolled his eyes. “You aren’t the boss of me Morgan. I’m the boss of you.”

“Aaron,” Haley said.

He blushed, making everyone laugh. “Fine.”

The women of the team came over. Elle gave him a quick one-armed hug, whispering in Spanish so the rest of the team didn’t understand. Hotch wiped his eyes when she went to stand by the others. JJ hugged him gently, saying that he didn’t get to terrify them like that because he was mom and they needed him. Garcia’s heels made a comically loud sound as she walked over to him. 

“You are the most self-destructive unit chief I know. But you’re also the most handsome, loving, sweet one as well. And I know you won’t stop putting your life on the line for our baby genius and chocolate thunder so let’s compromise: you can do dumb and reckless things but you’re not allowed to complain when we pamper you afterwards, okay?”

Hotch blinked a few times. “Sure Garcia.”

Garcia hugged him again, pressing a kiss to his forehead that left a pink mark behind. Haley laughed, which led to the analyst immediately shuffling over to the rest of their rag-tag family.

Gideon watched from the doorway as the rest of his team and Haley sat with Hotch, laughing and joking. He couldn’t bring himself to walk in there and comfort Hotch. Not when it had all been his fault. The team had saved an innocent girl. Hotch had pulled through again. There was a high that came with that, and he wasn’t about to ruin it for any of them.

But what happened when the high ran out?

 Elle would realise her leader wasn’t the stoic man she once thought he was. Spencer and Derek would be forced to help Hotch pour his coffee and climb the stairs to his office because he couldn’t do it alone but he didn’t want to ask. Garcia would go home to an empty apartment, wondering which one of her family she’d almost lose next. JJ would have to deal with the media fallout of the case.

Haley would hold her husband, wondering how much more he would be able to give to his job before he broke. Before it broke them. Aaron would have more scars that he’d never be able to recover from.

Gideon would be forced to watch as they all returned to work, scared fractured but incapable of walking away. David Rossi had always said there would be people waiting in the wings to take over, but Gideon didn’t agree. Only the people that had seen the depths of depravity were willing to put themselves through the horrors of profiling.

Aaron looked up and met Gideon’s eyes. He looked terrified.

Gideon smiled. He had to.

But he knew. 

He knew Elle would break. He could see she was already struggling with the guilt. He knew that one day, probably soon, he wouldn’t be able to look at his team without seeing their scars or the people he’d failed.

He knew Haley wouldn’t be able to handle her husband’s job forever.

Jason Gideon knew that each member of his team would fall in their own way. He did not know whether or not they would be able to get up. He did know, however, that it would be another round of the waiting game.

And it would only get harder. 

[stxrrywildflower]

disbanded (4)

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - after emily’s death, the still grieving bau team disbands in hopes of the time off doing some emotional healing. however, for you and spencer, strauss recruits you for your own individual team almost immediately. months later, after new case details are discovered, you and spencer are forced to call in your old team for assistance

warnings - mentions of case

note - well this is the final chapter of the disbanded series, thank you all so much for the support with this series and i’m so happy with how it turned out. i hope you enjoy!

series masterlist

just as emily had predicted, her return was proving to be more difficult.

a lot of changes happened in the first week emily was back. j.j. had been promoted to a profile, finishing her courses and case rotation. you and spencer were back, signing your contacts with the fbi and gaining your official badges back along with smaller stuff like your desks.

the biggest challenge was everyone emotions. a lot of trust had been broken. phrases such as ‘psychological counseling’ and ‘therapy’ were tossed around. no one quite knew how the handle it, how were you even supposed to deal with a situation like that?

but like most of the time, work came first.

a case in oklahoma had been presented, a man murdering women and robbing them of there senses. you still weren’t cleared to fly, deciding to do whatever work you could from quantico.

while penelope worked in her own office, you remained up in the conference room. it was mostly just a geographical profile and victimology but it did help in the long run.

you had thought the case was going well, as good as it could be going, but there was a lot of tension and some faults. you didn’t hear a lot of the details, only ones passed through phone calls.

that was, until spencer called you one night, crying into the phone.

“hey?” you started in a calm voice. “what’s wrong?”

spencer took a deep breath. “i have every right to be mad, right? with the whole emily situation and all i mean,” he first asked. “of course, we all do. what happened?”

“j.j. and i got into a fight. it was pretty bad. she said some pretty bad things, i retaliated and i stormed out,” he spoke. his voice was pretty shaky, you could almost hear the tears flowing down his cheeks.

“alright what can i do?” you asked, just wanting to help him calm down.

“just talk to me, please,” spencer pleaded. you smiled, “well penelope and i are about to go out to dinner. we’ve been pulling a few all nighters with this case but we just got the okay to take a break. i’m pretty sure she chose that one indian restaurant we used to go to? i’m still pretty exited,” you rambled. spencer just smiled on the other end, happy to hear your voice.

the team was all in various seats around the jet, some talking while other wanted to sleep. it had been a long case after all. spencer chose one of the corner seats, wanting to relax and wind down while doing some reading.

spencer looked up just to see emily slide into the seat across from him.

“are you going to rossi’s tonight?” she asked.

spencer shrugged as a response, eyes still scanning the pages in front of him. “i’m not sure, i really want to see y/n. it’s the longest we’ve been apart for while and i just want to make sure she’s okay. you know, wirh being back and all,” spencer commented.

“well i mean it’s a team cooking lesson, y/n should be there too. i know it’s still new but you both are apart of this team. that means that you’re both invited,” emily replied.

“are you codependent on each other? not in the extreme sense i mean.”

spencer sighed at that, the question being slightly suprising. “what do you think emily? you’re a profiler. you spend eight months with the person your in a relationship with and barely have any time to even call home.” the genius became frustrated at that last sentence, adding extra emphasis on the words and closing his eyes while taking a deep breath.

“i know everyone’s relationships are a bit rocky right now but it would be really good to see you at rossi’s tonight. i’ve missed you all,” emily spoke. spencer remained quiet, going back to his book to signify the end of the conversation.

a knock on the door interrupted rossi who was showing how to properly sauté the vegetables needed for the pasta dish.

“i got it,” morgan announced, placing his glass down and disappearing from the kitchen.

meanwhile, you and spencer stood outside of rossi’s home, waiting for someone to answer the door after you knocked. it was clear that the event was more casual, you choosing jeans with a tank top and cardigan for that reason. spencer dressed down in a t-shirt and blazer.

“hey guys,” morgan greeted. “glad you could make it.”

you smiled at the agent, moving further into the house, morgan leading you and spencer.

“sorry we’re late,” spencer waved once the three of you arrived in the kitchen. “and this is why i cook alone,” rossi commented. you found a spot in between morgan and spencer, j.j. next to him.

a speech was made after that, you all clinking your wine glasses together for a toast. dinner was next, plates of pasta being dished our to everyone.

as the cooking lesson and dinner had concluded, the team had resorted to various areas of the home, no one wanting to head home just yet. it was rare that everyone got to spend time together outside of work.

j.j. and emily were talking quietly on the staircase, occasionally sipping wine out of their glasses. morgan, garcia, and hotch were in the game room, playing pool with bets placed on the winner. rossi was cleaning up, humming quietly along to the music playing out of the speaker.

that left you and spencer, who had retreated outside to the patio area. you took a seat on the stairs leading to the backyard, spencer sitting beside you. outside was super dark, due to the time of night it was. the backyard did have string lights wrapped around both the trees and beams creating a warm glow.

you leaned into spencer, running your hand over his knee. it was truly beautiful outside, you figured you might as well spend the time you could out there.

“i hope i’m not interrupting anything,” a voice called from the sliding door.

emily stepped out on to the patio, wrapped her jacket a little tighter around her. “just relaxing,” you replied with a slight smile.

“i think i should let you two talk. morgan probably needs someone to beat him in pool,” spencer spoke. with a kiss to your temple, he was up and heading inside.

you stood up before she could sit down, motioning for you to follow with your hand. the two of you walked in silence towards the pool area. you took a seat down on one of the lounge chairs, emily doing the same in the one beside you.

after reclining back, you used one of the pillows to rest your arm on.

“so how did you get injured?” emily asked once she saw you grabbing a pillow. “i’m sorry about grabbing it the other day. i really didn’t realize it was casted up.”

“it’s all good. i was chasing after an unsub and it turned out he had rigged a building with some explosives. it blew up and i got thrown back by the blast. my wrist bent the wrong way which is why it’s in a cast. my shoulder was when that same unsub tackled me and forcibly dislocated my shoulder. spencer got him off before he could do any more damage though he did suffer a nasty cut,” you explained as if it was no big deal.

emily nodded along, playing the story in her head as if she was there.

“isn’t it crazy?” you spoke after a few minutes.

“what?”

“that there were nights where we both could have been looking at the same stars. and neither of us knew.”

that sentence made emily feel extremely guilty. “y/n,” she started. “i mean i get it. doyle would have killed you and us if you hadn’t faked your death. i’m sure we’ll all forgive and forget eventually. it’s just going to take some time.”

“and i completely understand that. i’m not asking for your immediate forgiveness but i just want you to know why i did what i did. that’s all,” emily reasoned.

you rolled to your side, propping yourself up on your good arm to face your friend. “i think it’s just the stress of the team disbanding adding onto spencer and i coming back and finally you. it just became a lot.”

emily nodded. “that makes a lot of sense. the work spencer and you did was amazing by the way,” she complimented. you thanked her quietly.

silence overtook you again, neither knowing exactly where

“so how are you and spencer relationship wise. any plans on engament soon?”

you blushed heavily at that. “you’re asking the wrong person emily,” you grinned. the two of you laughed

the ending point of the night was a bit later, morgan coming to round you two up for a game of poker. you all knew it was inevitable that spencer would be victorious, but it would still be fun.

and it was.

many rounds were played, no one worrying about the time they should be home or their commitments the next day. just being together, arguing over a card game and drinking various alcoholic beverages, felt incredibly right.

the memory of disbanding was long gone. you and spencer were back, emily was back, and the team was finally whole again.

☆ ☆ ☆

tags - @tinylumpiaa @rumplebutterbitch @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @the-quarantine-diaries @ah-blossom @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @aperrywilliams @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @etherealgubler @spenceneedsahug @jjandreidsgirl @zoseph @emilouu @mortallythoughtfulgurl @alexxcorona113 @swiftspaperings @gia-kerks @mggstyles @hurricanejjareau @ogmilkis @pizzarollsfordayz @wtfevenismypage @cm-is-kinda-cool @gdayton28 @ssa-morgan @avaxreid @eldahae @eternalharry @matthewgublerswife @guessthatswhyiliveinhell

[itsthestutterforme]

Better Than Me (Spencer Reid)

Y/N notices that her boyfriend, Spencer Reid, is spending a lot of time with Alex Blake. She begins to think that he has feels for Blake and confronts him about it.

--

"What have you heard about the new recruit?" Garcia asks. "I haven't heard anything about her, baby girl. But I'm assuming you know most of it." Morgan states as he takes a sip of his coffee. Morgan, JJ, Garcia are conversing near the glass doors of the BAU.

Which is probably a bad idea considering she could walk in and hear them at any given moment. But Garcia is eager to know who this recruit was. Reid walks in with his messenger bag and has two cups of coffee in his hands.

As soon as his eyes meet Y/N, a small smile tugs at his lips. In a few strides, he is by her side. "Good morning, baby," he states as he presses a kiss on her temple.

He hands her a cup of coffee and she says, "Good morning." "I wish I could kiss you right now," he whispers into her ear. "And what's stopping you?" "You know what," he says, his eyes narrowing into hers.

The rest of the team goes quiet and her cheeks redden because she thought that they overheard her and Reid's conversation. She look to the group to see that they were looking at the recruit. She looks like she is in the late 30's and attractive.

"She's standing right behind me, isn't she? We're doing this whole thing again?" Garcia asks. Y/N gives her a single nod and she slowly turns around to see the new recruit. She dashes out of her prescene and goes back to her office.

The rest of the team besides Y/N and Derek leaves. "Derek Morgan, it's nice to meet you." Derek greets with a handshake. "Blake, nice to meet you." "Hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N," Y/N state as she shakes Blake's hand. "Meet at the round table in 10," Hotch announces.

Y/N walks to her desk to see Reid leaning against it. "Did Garcia just run away from Blake?" he asks. "Yes, she did." Y/N says with a chuckle. "She wasn't like that with me was she?" "Barely, she loved you before she even met you. Just like I did," he states as he slowly links his hand with hers.

A few weeks later, Y/N has been noticing Reid spending more time with Blake. She understand that it's nice to have someone who is on the same wave length with you. That was how it was with her and Hotch until Rossi got in the picture.

She's trying not to let it get to her because she know that Reid cares for her, but there's a small voice in her head that thinks, "What if he wants to be with her instead of me?" Morgan noticing that there was something wrong almost immediately.

"Hey, you okay?" Morgan says, nudging her arm softly. "Fine," "I knew it," "Huh? Knew what?" "You aren't okay with Reid spending so much time with Blake,". There was a moment of silence before she says, "I'm definitely questioning, and I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted a break,"

"Whoa, slow your roll there sweetheart." "Reid loves you, Y/N. I've seen his eyes sparkle when someone just mentions your name." he adds.

"Yeah," she say softly as she rubs the back of her neck. "Alright, let's go for a little ride." he says, standing from his chair. "What, no, we have to stay here to piece things together."

"And we can't do that with your heads in the clouds, come on." she hesitantly rise from her chair and follow him out of the room. "Hey, is everything okay?" Blake asks and Reid's eyes fall to Y/N. Y/N tries not to make eye contact with him.

"Yeah, just need to get some air." She takes a step to follow Morgan and Reid holds her back by her hand. "Hey," he says softly. "You have the crease on the side of your eyes. That happens when you are too deep in thought, what happened?" he adds.

"Nothing, Reid. I just don't feel well," Y/N explains. He looks into her eyes for a moment to detect any tells that she's lying. "I'll be here when you're ready to talk," he says as he presses a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

He pulls away from her to walk into the conference room with Blake. She sighs and immediately miss his warmth. "Still think he wants Blake?" Morgan asks. "Let's go," I say, taking lead. Later that night, Reid drives Y/N home in hopes of her telling him what was wrong.

"Please tell me what's wrong?" "There's nothing wrong, Reid." "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" he asks. "It's just.. when were you going to tell me?" "Tell you what?" "That you have feelings for Blake," "What?" Reid says in pure disbelief.

"I understand why, she's pretty and closer to your level of intelligence than any of us. I'm not entirely mad about it, i just wish you-" "Stop, just stop, Y/N. What? Where is this coming from?" Y/N notices that Reid speeds up a little. "Why else would spend so much time with her?"

"I see Blake as a friend and only as a friend," "Why?" The next thing that Y/N knows, they are pulling up into Y/N's driveway. "Because I already have a girlfriend that I deeply care about." He holds Y/N's hands into his and caresses the top of them with his thumbs.

"Baby, I went through all the obstacles that you sent my way so that I could earn your trust. I wouldn't do anything to question that, okay? I promise." he adds. "I'm giving you a way out Reid," Y/N says as she pulls away from him.

She gets out of the car and advances to her front door. Reid gets out of the car to say, "I know that it's easier for you to let go than to stay and allow yourself to be vulnerable, but you're not the only one being vulnerable here." Reid says, making Y/N stop in her tracks.

She faces him and he was few feet away from her. "I'm so sorry, Reid. Oh my God." Before she could say another word, Reid engulfs her in a hug. He cups the back of her head as his other arms snakes around her waist.

"I'm sorry that I made you question our relationship," "Don't blame yourself for my insecurities." Y/N says against his neck. "Come on, let's have a movie night." he suggests as he pulls away from her a little.

Y/N doesn't say or do anything because she getting lost in her own thoughts. "Baby?" He adds, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Tears prick her eyes and Reid's heart sinks in his chest.

"I'm so sorry," she says between sobs. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about," he reassures, but there's not much that can get through to her when she gets lost in her own thoughts.

He takes her hand and walks to the front door. He searches for the spare key and uses it to open her door. He walks her inside and has her stand by the couch. He knew exactly what to do to cheer her up. He takes a few steps back and rushes towards Y/N. He ducks his head and wraps his arms around her to tackle her into the couch.

A yelp escapes her lips as her back comes into the contact with the couch. Reid presses many kisses all over her face and lips, making her giggle. She turns her face away and he continues to kiss her cheek and neck as he pins her arms down.

He finally pulls away from her and they look at each other with big smiles on their faces. "Thank you," she says. He captures her lips in a slow, loving kiss. "Any time, pumpkin."

[omnicat]

A Brief Summary of More Seasons of “Timeless” (Inevitably Leading Up to Gladiator!Flynn)

Hey @ununpredictableme, here’s that thing I promised to show you! :D (Again with a delay, but better late than never, right? /o\ )

The thing about time travel was, it was just too damn tempting for its own good. The whole “doubling back over your own lifetime will kill you” thing was an effective deterrent to whims like “that date was a disaster, let’s go give my past self some tips to improve the experience” and “we’re going to try this specific evil plan over and over until it succeeds, dammit!”, but as it turned out, that still left plenty of bigger ambitions.

First, of course, there was Rittenhouse and its covert world domination schemes: the very reason time travel managed to be invented in the first place. Briefly interrupted by Garcia Flynn’s roaring rampage of burning Rittenhouse to the ground and/or saving the wife and daughter they’d murdered. (Preferably both at the same time, but when push came to shove he would’ve settled for going down in a blaze of martyrdom, survivor’s guilt soothed by the knowledge that he’d at least tried.)

/S1; Flynn

Then back to Rittenhouse, their plans by that point out of the development phase and being implemented by a visionary with more flair and philosophy than common sense, but plenty of dangerous ideas either way. Though it didn’t take long for Rittenhouse’s deplorable recruitment practices to come back and bite them in the ass, resulting in a coup by one of its lowest-esteemed members.

/S2; Rittenhouse

Emma Whitmore, driven by nothing but a bitter desire to thrive over the backs of anyone who had ever harmed or held her back with even so much as their mere existence, but no longer knowing what thriving meant after the decades of pressure and manipulation and isolation Rittenhouse had subjected her to, turned the time machine into her personal pirate ship. She looted and pillaged her way through history, taking treasures and torching everything that pissed her off. And there wasn’t much that didn’t piss her off. If Flynn’s strategy had been to blow up especially fishy-smelling rocks and see what Rittenhouse filth came scurrying out from underneath, and Nicholas Keynes’ had been to repaint history in his own image in intricate and meticulously crafted brush strokes, Emma’s was to punish those in history who disadvantaged her and twist the arms of those who could elevate her in the cruelest ways she could think of. It was no wonder Jessica Logan had turned on her, in the end. It had only been a matter of time before Emma would have turned on her – and her baby.

/S3; Emma

For a short while, they thought Jessica’s change of heart was the end of it; Rittenhouse was in ruins, Emma dead, and Flynn mostly well-behaved as part of the Lifeboat crew. The antagonist bench was empty, the heroes no longer constantly preoccupied with defending themselves. The team finally had the time and opportunity to piece their timetravel-mangled lives and families back together. Lucy un-erased Amy, and their parents along with her; Flynn found a way to save Iris and Lorena without erasing all the victories their deaths had led to. Wyatt and Jessica took the Lifeboat to the 1400’s to raise their little family and clear their heads for a while. That while turned into forever. In the end, instead of disposing of the Lifeboat somewhere no modern villain would ever find it, as the initial plan had been, their grandson returned the ship to the 21st century, to a date mere weeks from the day they’d departed from. Sherwin was a bright, eager young man with Jessica’s eyes, Wyatt’s smile, an insatiable desire to see everything the past and future had to show him – and his best friend, Willard, in tow... who proved startlingly quick to be corrupted by the power of time travel.

Willard stole the ApocaLifeboat (thanks, Lucy Croft and Bearded Wyatt, that autopilot was just what they’d needed to make time travel even more of a crapshoot) and jumped from time period to time period, looking for a place and moment where he could install himself as the next best coming since Jesus, and revealing future technology and knowledge everywhere he went. He altered history with reckless abandon and relocated dozens upon dozens of bamboozled followers to eras they had no business being in.

While the team struggled to deal with Willard, Sherwin got attached to the 21th century, Lucy figured out how to deal with her restored family now that she’d uncovered the sordid truth of their ancestry, and Flynn wrestled with the self-hatred and guilt that threatened to tear his own newly-reunited family apart. And after the team returned from a jump with a damaged ship to a timeline where Connor was dead of a disease that didn’t exist before they left, taking his vital expertise and resources to the grave with him, Jiya and Rufus had to A: figure out how to undo his death, and B: develop a way to keep anybody else they cared about but who couldn’t come on a jump from being lost or critically changed by random divergences to their personal history, poofing out of existence because of family tree disruptions like Amy, or being hijacked by the enemy like Jessica. Objective A was accomplished with another jump, and objective B with what Rufus, who had the crucial eureka moment, got to dub the Wellsaday Cage (a portmanteau of Faraday Cage and H.G. Wells, the author of the first ever time machine story). The Cage ensured that everybody inside it shared in the temporal bubble that made it so the team didn’t get swept up by the effects of their actions while they were on a jump and always came back to the altered present as their old selves. BOOM. So many problems and four-dimensional puzzle induced-headaches solved.

/S4; Willard from the 14th Century

No sooner did the team stop Willard and start bickering among themselves about how – if at all – to fix the mess he’d made of history, than the remnants of Rittenhouse (their cult annoyingly unscathed by what Willard’s had wrought) reared its ugly head again. The remaining followers, a motley bunch who had rearranged the once unassailable hierarchy with blood and backstabbing in the wake of the purge of all Rittenhouse’s biggest and most actually influential figures, fought with a zeal only found in true believers who had seen their cult’s long-awaited judgement day pass by without so much as a lightning strike and doubled down on their faith regardless. Nothing the Time Team did could stop them – until finally, after an inexplicable delay of four seasons, they returned to David Rittenhouse and smothered the entire organization in the bud by killing him before he could start spreading his ideology in the first place.

/S5; Rittenhouse Redux

Preventing the birth of the Rittenhouse cult altered the history of the USA beyond recognition and, since it was Rittenhouse’s relentless urging and unlimited funds that made time travel possible, erased everything that had occurred because of it in the previous seasons. The team made a number of jumps to win some lotteries and make some jackpot investments to help themselves and the loved ones they’d saved with the Wellsaday Cage start over, and everybody set themselves to the task of adjusting to their new reality and dealing with the scars left by erased timelines only they now remembered.

Then time-travelers from centuries into the future started showed up. The team hadn’t had to wonder who the good guys and the bad guys were or what side they should be on since they cottoned on to the truth of what Flynn kept saying in S1. Now they were left questioning everything again. Who were these people from the future? What did they want, and could they be trusted to tell the truth about that? When they started contradicting each other and the cracks in their initially united front started to show, who could the team believe? And what would happen when the team fractured along long-dormant fault lines of trust (among themselves, and toward the future travelers) and philosophical disagreements over what time travel should or shouldn’t be used for and allowed to cause??

Much tension, very suspense. Wow. They figured it out eventually, though. And hey, guess what? Flynn’s inexplicable inability to come up with a sensible Plan B to kill David Rittenhouse all the way back in S1 wasn’t so inexplicable after all! Turns out it was a remote intervention by a distant-future scumbag – let’s call him Gabmucs – who read about the dude’s many different deaths in a history book about the Time War Era and the development of the tech that would come to shield The Future He Comes From from being affected by all that temporal chaos from the past. (Based on Jiya & Rufus’s Wellsaday Cage, but applied to the whole solar system past a certain point in time.)

Gabmucs thought all those ideas about oppression and suppression and world domination sounded right up his alley, and set up some kind of outcome enforcer tech (derivative from the Temporal Shield just like the Temporal Shield was a derivative of the Wellsaday Cage) around David R’s life to ensure only one specific fate from the many timelines centered around him would come to pass, and so his ideas would come to fruition no matter what. When the team first discovered David’s existence, Gabmucs’s technology had detected Flynn’s intentions and befuddled his senses until he just couldn’t think straight enough to kill the guy anymore. The eventual failure of this tech was what prompted Gabmucs to manipulate a team from his own time to go back and help him intervene in person. And while he was there, he might as well take some crucial steps toward disabling the Temporal Shield, so he could go home afterwards to a world steeped in glorious Rittenhouse-flavored evil tailor-made to his tastes.

He just wasn’t very honest to most of his team about the motives or objectives of their mission, and they didn’t take kindly to finding out the truth. Especially when one of them (let’s call her... uh... Niwrehs? /o\ I hate character names almost as much as fic titles) had fallen in love with Sherwin. (In the end, Niwhrehs stayed in the 21st century. And my wish of having both a distant past and a far future member on the team was fulfilled! Also, this season definitely has the modern team visiting the future AT LEAST once!!)

/S6; The Future

And just when they thought that was finally the end of it, Stanley Fisher arose from his ever-worsening stupor of visions and turned out to have become a temporal eldritch demi-god. A bored temporal eldritch demigod. Having seen literally everything there ever was to see, in every timeline that had ever been, he started changing things with the biggest impact possible, purely so he could experience something truly new again. And he didn’t need a time machine to transport himself to the past.

Which is what finally brings us to antiquity, and the massive, unimaginable changes he could cause by knocking history off course that far back... AND GLADIATOR FLYNN! :D The special effects budget goes through the roof! Old Rome! Ancient Egypt! The Aztecs! Atilla the Hun! Cavemen and Medieval knights and pirates and samurai and and and... WOOLY MAMMOTHS!! Good thing the far future guys left universal translator tech behind!

Wait, wait, back up, whaaaat?? WELL, you see, because of the accident that gave him his visions, Stanley was never affected by the timeline changing the way the rest of reality around him was. Even though it seemed like he was at first. But actually, every time the timeline changed, he instead absorbed the quantum imprint of the new version of himself and all the memories, visions, viability, and temporal capability that came with it. This slowly drove him crazier and crazier with every edit to the timeline, the human brain utterly unequipped to handle so many realities crammed into one mind – until the last jump of S6. That one tipped him over a critical mass of timelines into near-omniscience, and rearranged his physical and psychic being to finally accommodate it all.

(Look, no time-travel story can be called a real time-travel story unless everything goes batshit insane at some point, okay?)

Jiya had been experiencing the same thing, just on a much, much smaller scale, since she was shielded from most of the timeline changes by either being part of the jump team or being safely ensconced inside a Wellsaday Cage. But when it became clear that the team didn’t stand a chance against Stanley, she made a desperate gamble and told her past self what happened to Stanley... and how she could replicate it in herself. Jiya expected to die when she returned from this jump, but instead of being absorbed by the new timeline’s eldritch Jiya, that Jiya made sure they remained two separate entities. Girl Jiya rejoined her team, Eldritch Jiya transcended into Demi-Goddess Jiya, and between two time machines and a walking force of quantum nature, they kicked Stanley’s ass. Demi-Goddess Jiya absorbed his temporal whatever and became full-blown Time Goddess Jiya, who then merged with the timestream itself and ensured that all the time travel fuckery was finally, FINALLY, fucking over, and this season finale would be the definitive show finale. And everybody lived happily ever after.

EVERYBODY.

Yes, even if they were erased three hundred timelines ago. Yes, even if nobody was supposed to remember them anymore; she’s god now, she can fix that. That and so much more. And she does! Because she’s nice like that. Fuck ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’, the Goddess Jiya’s in charge now, and she makes sure time travel will not continue to or ever newly hurt her friends and family again.

/S7; Temporal Eldritch Demi-God Stanley Fisher

THE END

(Sorry Paulina, your scribbles will never come to anything. Or maybe they will, but your results will be relentlessly trolled by time!Jiya.)

[rosesvioletshardy]

can we do it? - billy /four - prologue

my billy fic is finally here! it took me a while to figure what i wanted it to be called so i’m sorry it too a long time for this to be posted.

i really hope you all like this fic and i apologize if it’s not as good as my other fic

summary: one team. seven people. two lovers. things are about to get crazy and zero and four don’t know if they can do it with everything that’s going on

masterlist

# of words: 2943

warnings: mentions of blood, death, flirting ??, 

inbox me or message me if you want to be added to the taglist for this series

--

“Took you long enough”

“Well sorry we were being chased throughout italy possibly in the brightest car possible thanks to six” one told her not liking her attitude as he tried to look over to see if anyone was coming

zero quickly got into the car managing to fit into the back squished next to two other women as five was trying conduct surgery on two

“it would’ve gone better if one didn’t act like a fucking dick to the lawyer”

“well he wasn’t cooperating so we had to go to plan b”

“I thought me hacking into the servers was plan b?”

“well that was plan c if plan b didn’t work”

“for fucks sake”

The girl had rolled her eyes already knowing that everything has gone to shit and that something or someone will most likely be hurt in the end, except for two where it wasn’t her fault. 

Zero that was her number. She was the first to be recruited after almost being arrested for hacking into the servers to expose some of the wealthiest people of all time for what they have done that the country was keeping quiet about. She was given the option to do something better for the world and she took it. The only downside was she would have to leave her life behind. That meant faking her death and leaving her twin brother, her parents, and her friends behind. She didn’t like the idea at first but she weighed out all her options and realized that she would do more good in the world if people didn’t know who she was anymore. They ruled her death out as suicide and the hardest part of it all was having to watch her family and friends bury an empty coffin six feet under the ground.

Now she was in Italy, a mission she thought would probably go great and all until it all went to shit. she had been sitting near the lawyers office waiting for her signal to hack into the lawyers but one had different plans afterwards when told no

“Please tell me she’s stopped bleeding? I’d like to keep this car clean and pristine, and hopefully keep it” six asked looking into his rearview mirror

“That’s impossible five is trying her hardest to get the bullet out but it isn’t working. Have you seen how surgeries go? I’m sure there’s going to be blood everywhere. Also you’re not keeping the car, you’re going to need to get rid of it”

“we’re going to need a hospital” five said

“it’s getting a little intense in here don’t you think?” one asked everyone causing the women to glare at him

“Where did the other guys come from?” two asked loading her gun

“i told you down from the room you and one were in. they haven’t updated their shit in a long time they must’ve added new rooms” 

“i was talking to one”

“i was covering the door. You were shot from a window”

Zero couldn’t focus on whatever else was happening and decided to look for the other members of her team before putting herself back into the conversation

“It’s true. That lawyer has had guards since he graduated and began working. I fucking told you guys this already.” “Well some people don’t listen” two grits through her teeth

“All that matters is that we got this phone, zero here. Do your little penelope garcia hacker thing”

Zero took the phone from him and began doing her thing. When she plugged his phone into her laptop, she began typing away to try and unlock it. It was too encrypted for her though she had managed to get past the first part of the security system that was keeping her locked out. What she didn’t know was that she also need an eye verification and pictures wouldn’t do it justice unless she had a program that can easily make a 3d model of it

“Please tell me one of you have a device that can make a 3D eye because i truly need it to get past the second part of this wack ass security system” zero had asked not tearing her eyes away from her laptop

“No but we do have something better” two told her trying to ignore the pain she was going through 

“Hey six, you wanna you know, drive faster? Because i think they got us” one asked him sarcastically as more guards pulled up next to them

“Yeah hold on to something” six told them pressing on the gas causing them to almost collide with the busy traffic ahead of  almost crashing and causing multiple crashes and explosions

“i feel like i’m going to throw up” zero said holding her head and trying to convince herself she’s fine

“Me too.”

“What the fuck did you guys do in there anyways? Why are you covered in blood?”

“The head, neck, and face are very vascular so it’s a lot of blood.” “We know basic anatomy one”

“Are you telling me you killed a mafia guy? In italy?” zero asked him leaning over the seat ready to kill him

“I didn’t. Two did. Anyways you should know what his client did”

“I do, I'm the one who told you his shit.”

“Everyone just shut up for one second there’s a BMW chasing us” five yelled

“Is now a bad time to tell you that we have a helicopter on our tail but don’t worry i’m trying to intercept their signal with some Italian children’s tv”

Six continued to drive, while one kept looking out the window praying to god that the mission doesn’t end entirely more fucked up than it already is. Two was under intense amount of pain as five kept digging into her to find the bullet that was inside her 

“Can i just take a moment to thank you? There is nothing else I’d rather being doing with my life”

“I don’t care”

“Hey be nice. If it weren’t for you we wouldn’t be in this shit show right now” five said not looking up

Six made a turn that caused him to think fast and steer the wheel and almost hit a truck that drove against them before it hit one of the BMW that was chasing them. They continued their course on trying to get away before six had almost hit a group of nuns who didn’t so easily forgive him and then hitting a pedestrian on accident claiming he had the right of way. Five was getting annoyed with him while she tried to fix two and zero closed her eyes to prevent herself from throwing up. She was good at reading and driving but in this case, a high speed car chase, it wasn’t agreeing with her and felt like everything she had since being in italy was going to come up from her

“Nice call on the Day-Glo green. It blends right into the Italian architecture”

“Is it too flashy? You don’t like the color?”

“SIX WATCH THE FUCK OUT”

“BABY, BABY BABY!”

“PUPPIES” everyone yelled out at once as six swerved around almost hitting a few dogs, a woman and her baby, and other civilians as they all ran away. They continued the chase until this time someone on a motorcycle started to chase them

“Oh no he’s got a gun”

“Move, zero duck” two told the two women with her and she started to shoot

“She okay?” one asked about two current state

“She’s lost a shit ton of blood”

“This isn’t a shit ton”

“I am the judge of what’s shit ton. You see? Blood. Red.” five told her showing the bloody rags from trying to stop the bleeding

“I can hear it pumping out, please staunch it or whatever you call it” one asked as soon as blood squirted onto five’s face and two yelling in pain. As it happened everyone groaned in disgust as zero tried to move her stuff away to prevent anything from getting messed up. She had managed to dig up more information about the generals and what they were planning to do. Zero continued to listen to her team's bickering as six tried to avoid hitting people on Vespa's. 

“I’m starting to feel it” six said swerving and making a turn

“I’m feeling fucking carsick. Now i know how zero feels”

Zero smiled to herself as she got up a map of the city to hide themselves in for a bit so she can continue in peace using the eye two had cut out 

“One for four?”

“Yeah, go for four”

“We need you”

“‘course you need me. I’m here”

“Remind me where the fuck is “here”?” six asked looking around

““Here” here. Like here?”

“Specificity please?” one said annoyed 

Zero had looked out the window and found where he was talking about 

“Here. right fucking here!” he yelled out to the sky 

“He’s at the top of the Duomo” 

“Top of the Duomo, like we talked about. Look up” four and zero had said at the same time. This caused everyone to look at her with a questioning look

“What he said it in the meeting after one said for him to do his thing and plus i saw someone on top of it and he’s the only person insane enough to do that shit”

“Exactly sweetheart” he said smirking as she turned red as one looked through the rearview mirror

Six continued to drive seeing as they were being chased leaving four behind and having to detour. Zero never understood four and how he wasn’t scared doing stuff like that. She never really got to have a proper conversation with him before too.

“So some good news and bad news. I’ve managed to change the channels so instead of watching us being chased and shit, but the helicopters are still onto us”

“Well this will be a day for the history books”

“Hey guys. ‘M coming north. Down on Via de..Via de... There’s so many fucking vias in Italy”

“Should’ve brushed up on your Italian architecture before deciding to climb it” zero told him

“Well maybe you could give me a layout of Italy and i’ll show what i know” 

“Uh guys i know you’re horny and all but now’s not exactly the time” one told them as four and zero turned red not meaning for it to sound that dirty

The group had managed to go the wrong way and miss four again leaving him behind causing them to think of another plan quick

“Round the corner. That’s it, keep coming, keep coming.” he said before cutting the rope and letting the poles let loose

“One i’m going to need that fucking eye now if you want this shit!” zero had yelled

One grabbed the eye out of his pocket and put it in view so everyone could see it. Six groaned in disgust

“Who knew the optic nerve was so long? Surprised his asshole didn’t come with it. This isn’t going to work. Pull over” he said as six hit something causing it to leave one’s fingers before giving it to zero

“He’s right there’s an empty alley up on this next turn” zero yelled

As soon as the eye left one’s fingers it landed under six’s feet causing him to yell 

“Don’t you fucking squish it!”

“Fucking grab it!”

“You squish it, the mission’s over!” zero yelled. It wasn’t entirely true seeing how she could somehow manipulate it but she needed the real thing. Four overheard everything and all the yelling and commented on how everything was stressful

“can you guys just stop arguing, we need to get this shit done”

“tell that to six and his driving that caused the eye to fall”

Six pulled over to the alley and one handed the eye over to zero waiting for her to download everything from the phone into the computer.

“Who’s eye is that?”

“It’s the lawyers”

“Did you scoop it out or-”

“God, no! I didn’t scoop it out, two did” one told him as two hit her head against the door in pain

“Almost there. Don’t worry.”

“All of rovach’s transmissions are going to lead us straight to the four generals in less than 30 seconds now.”

“I’m getting lightheaded”

“You’re not the one holding it” zero had said glaring at him

“guys? cops are looking right at us” five warned looking back

“Don’t you dare move your foot off that brake or i swear to god”

As the information finished downloading and zero had thrown the eye back to one and yelled at six to go while trying to read about the four generals and where they could find them

“Zero, please tell me you can lose that police chopper?” four asked

“On it. While we’re at it, one? Now’s a good time to get three”

At this point four had started to leave again to find three, who was sitting in a truck trying to learn Italian waiting for his cue. six and zero worked together to try to lose the chopper. They both had a plan in mind but they knew one wasn’t going to like it. As six continued to drive, they began shooting at the team again causing one to yell at two to shoot. Two was already frustrated seeing that she was getting operated on and trying to shoot back wasn’t comfortable especially if she had to turn around. How they were all still alive was beyond zero’s thoughts right now.

“I’ve got a plan but i don’t think you’re going to like it.” zero said ducking avoiding bullets that were going through the car at the moment

“anything’s better than this right now” one told her back

“Well it involves the Uffizi”

“Fuck, no”

‘Yeah, the museum next to where we got those mochaccinos” six interrupted knowing what zero thought of

“I remember the mochaccinos! i’m saying fuck, no!” one yelled back at the both of them

They ignored what one had told them and went into the direction of the Uffizi as six turned the radio on to calm down. One didn’t appreciate it though and ripped the radio and threw it out. At this point everyone’s blood pressure had risen and they were all bound to do meditation soon if they didn’t calm down. as they entered the Uffizi entrance they knew that their faces were going to be on the news everywhere if they didn’t work fast so zero could erase everything.

“You said whatever i needed to do, right? so, i’m just gonna do it.” six said backing up before putting it back in drive

“i can’t believe i died for this shit”

“i’m not exactly that religious so if anyone needs me i’m going to be praying” zero said trying keep her vomit down

Six had driven into the museum, trying to avoid all the statues and art while having way too much fun. He managed to destroy a few statues and  Zero was holding onto the door praying that she will get to have an Italian getaway or just any getaway that didn’t involve them ruining anything. when she opened her eyes, she found them in front of the statue of David. they drove off as soon as three called them to tell them about two black suburban's coming their way and four telling them he’s going to them on his skateboard before hitting them with a grenade and six commenting that they’ve got a superhero on the squad. 

Entering what looked like under a bridge, zero knew this would end here as two yelled at one about not having anymore bullets in French

“i don’t speak that” one said scared

“shit’s about to get crazy” six commented

“NOW?!? I’m conducting surgery!” five yelled 

“i’m trying to lose a thousand cars”

“She’s going to die, you know?”

“you can live for days with a gunshot wound in the stomach. She’ll be fine”

Five had started to yell at one in Spanish as soon as he said that asking if he was suddenly the doctor

“I don’t speak that either”

“Two ran out of bullets and five was asking are you suddenly a doctor”

“Yeah thanks for the input Duolingo. Up top!” one yelled at zero and six as he hit another guy with the car

Five went back to being quiet as zero looked over to see that she had gotten the bullet out of two. “Oh that feels so much better”

six continued to drive as one praised his driving before they were getting shot at in the front making it impossible to see. they had pushed the windshield out of the way before six stepped on the brake causing them to swerve and get hit. when they had opened their eyes and tried to calm their breaths, they saw that six had been impaled by a rod. zero felt sick to her stomach and climbed out of the car before the rest got out. Three and four had stopped as well before they saw zero on the ground crying and shaking before seeing what happened. 

“where’s-” four asked before seeing six’s state and going back to help five and two

one picked zero up and tried to carry her body to where the others were. he knew how much six meant to her and made sure he was somewhere he would feel at peace no matter how he was.

“c’mon, do this for him. he wouldn’t want to see you like this” one whispered to her making sure no one heard him

[mackeydoodledoo]

Forgiveness\Pteradon Champion Zord

(Gif not mine!)

Pairing: Izzy Garcia x (FemKnight!)Reader

Summary: It follows a girl: Y/N Y/L/N, who currently owns the "Pteradon Champion Zord", along with its DinoSoul Key, who is currently a Professional Box Fighter. The youngest ever to be a pro. What she doesn't know is that she is a direct descendant of the supposed Mythical "DinoSoul" Tribe. [Equivalent to the Ryusoul Tribe]. Her partner, she calls him, "buddy" as she doesn't have a proper name for him. The two of them embark on a journey to figure out who she is, finding an old flame and developing a new crush in the process.

Warnings: Slight heartache

----------------------------------------------------------

You tap your foot against the floor, waiting for Izzy to show up. Javi called you not even an hour before; saying that he was going to treat Izzy out to breakfast but told you to step in for him as he got a 'last minute call in' for a BuzzBlast report he was tasked with. You thanked him and immediately made you way to where he was going to meet her.

"What are you doing here Y/N?" A familiar voice calls to you

You look up and see Izzy, her face reading confusion mixed with annoyance.

"Javi got a last minute call in for a BuzzBlast report," you explain, "So he asked me to treat you out instead."

"Weird," she sighs, "Well, I have barely have any time for this-"

"Izzy wait," you sigh, immediately standing up and catching her hand in yours

"What?" She asks

"Why don't I take you somewhere else so I can explain, privately," you suggest

"Fine," she sighs, "You have one hour."

Still having her hand in yours you make your way out of the diner and out to your vehicle; a Forest Green 2001 Ford F 150 XLT. It was run down but it got you wherever you needed to go. You open the passenger side door for her, trying to show her that you really like her.

"Why thank you my knight in shining armor," she smiles

You sigh in relief, you accepted the fact she now says that every time you do something chivalrous for her. You hop into the driver's seat and begin driving to one of your favorite spots you like to be in whenever you wanted to be alone.

Once you arrived there, you again, open the passenger side door for her and hold her hand, leading her to a cliffside, a bench overlooking the ocean. You and Izzy seat yourselves and take the view all in until you look over and notice Izzy beginning to shiver. You take off your jacket and put it around her. Not knowing what to do next, you just look back out to the ocean.

"Amelia wanted me to tell you she wants to apologize to you the next time you see her," you break the silence, "She processed the whole situation and felt guilty for what she did. We talked it over and we both agreed she wouldn't do that again, let alone become jealous."

"Does she now?" Izzy asks, monotonous

"Listen," you sigh, scratching the back of your head, "What happened between Amelia and I- we used to date when we were in high school together. However, she broke up with me near the end of sophomore year; I was recruited to train to become a professional box fighter. She feared we would barely have time to see each other, so broke up with me to not suffer the pain of barely seeing each other. But, I guess it donned on her that she wasn't fully over me."

"And you?" She asks, "Are you over... Her?"

"100% yeah," you answer immediately, "I began liking another girl, though I've only known her a couple of weeks to a month, she's one of the best people I've ever met."

"Do I possibly know her?" Izzy asks, having a hunch on who it is

"Try looking in the mirror," you say

You sat back into the bench to let her process what you told her. You look out to the ocean to avoid Izzy’s eye contact out of fear of being rejected once more. Her arm begins slinging around your neck as she makes your head to turn to look at her. You notice how she was the first time the two of you kissed. You could easily see her contagious smile creep across her face.

"Guess that answers my question," Izzy laughs

The two of you were about to lean into each other for a kiss before the both of your communicators go off.

"They really need to stop interrupting us," you say, sighing, but in a joking manner

Izzy let's out a giggle as she gives you a cheek kiss right as you answer your communicator.

"A sporix beat is located near where you guys are, we're on our way right now." Zayto explains

"Okay," you sigh

"We'll keep him busy," Izzy adds

You turn off your communicator and begin running towards the direction of where the sporix beast is located.

"Link to Morphin' Grid," Izzy says as she morphs

"Ryusoul Change!" You say as you morph

You launch yourself into the air, taking Izzy's hand to have her fly with you rather than her catch up to you.

"Can't wait to drain the earth's entire ocean!" The sporix beast says excitedly

"Think again fish brain!" You say, launching Izzy for the initial attack

The sporix beast stumbles back when Izzy slashes him.

"Who the heck are you two?!" He asks, stumbling to stand back up

"Glad you asked," you joke, "We're the ones who will stop you from... Whatever it is.. You're doing."

Before you could really get into the fight, everyone else shows up. With Zayto jumping into the front.

"T-Rex Fury, Red Ranger!" He announces

"Ankylo Fury, Pink Ranger," Amelia announces

"Tricera Fury, Blue Ranger," Ollie announces

"Tiger Fury, Green Ranger," Izzy announces

"Stego Fury, Black Ranger," Javi announces

"翼の騎士, リュソウル シアン!" You announce, not knowing any other role call except your own [Translation: "The Winged Knight, Ryusoul Cyan!"]

"Dino Fury Power!" The core 5 Rangers say

"せいぎつかいえる,いっぽんのつるぎ!" you say, making a knight-like stance [Translation: "The Single Blade that is pledged to Justice!"]

You follow the rangers into battle as Void Knight appears. He raises his blade at Amelia. You hold your blade on its blunt side as his connected with yours.

"I got him!" You yell, "Go! おれの騎士を見せてある!!" You add [Translation: "I'll show you my Chivalry!]

You lift his blade away from you and slash at his armor. You could see the deep slash you made in his armor and you swore you saw cloth on the inside. IT was... Navy, just like your dad’s before he left on some kind of mission, desappearing.

"You really pack a punch kid," Void Knight, he teleports back to his base

You stand there.... You remember those words when your dad used to get knocked back whenever you were play-fighting with him when you were 4.

"Wow, you really pack a punch kid," he says, patting you on your head, "Maybe you'll be a great DinoSoul Knight when you're older."

Then it hit you. DinoSoul... Ryusoul... We're you...

"Y/N!!" Izzy calls out to you, snapping out of your daze as a Hengemen hit you in the head with the butt of their weapon

You slash them, without your body, with he exception of your right arm, flinching. You turn to Izzy who just came up to you.

"You okay?" She asks, placing her hand on your waist

"Yeah-yeah I'm fine," you sigh, meeting back up with the other rangers

The sporix beast suddenly grows; beginning to absorb the water.

"Leave this to me guys," you say, taking out your Ryusoul, "Bud!"

You see him flying around the corner, letting out a battle cry.

"Ryusoul Gattai!" You and your partner yell, throwing your Ryusoul to him

You launch yourself into the air, emerging into your zord, that transforms into a giant winged mech.

"Yokuryu-Oh!" The both of you announce

"Whoa," Izzy says, breathlessly, "This is really her zord?"

"I've never heard of a Pteradon Champion Zord," Zayto says, "Solon, can you do some research on Y/N Y/L/N's zord?"

"I'm already on it," She says

"Okay partner, let's do this!" You tell him

The sporix beast sends out beams to shoot at you however, using your ice abilities, you freeze them, slashing and kicking at them; letting them disintegrate.

"Yokuryu-Oh, Blizzard Storm!" You call out

Your partner launches the both of you up into the air. His head; that's attached to his chest, lets out a freezing breath, freezing the area of water the sporix beast is standing. However, it doesn't phase the sporix beast as it shoots out another beam. You and your partner raise the "Claw-Shield" and it bounces right back at the sporix beast; falling over into the water.

"Yokuryu-Oh, Blizzard Claw Strike!" You yell out your final move, moving your arm out in front of you; the claw-shield piercing through the sporix beast

The powered-up sporix lands in front of Zayto before mucus could get it.

"Hey! That's mine!" Mucus says, pointing at the sporix

You emerge from your zord and slash at Mucus who falls back.

"Not anymore," You laugh triumphantly

You land between the rangers and mucus, ready to fight him if need be.

"Not you again!" Mucus says before teleporting away

You de-morph and watch your partner shrink back into his egg form and fly over to you. In that moment, Izzy runs over to you and immediately wraps her arms around your midsection, giving you a tight hug; you return the same thing. The other rangers catching up with the two of you.

"That was some fight out there buddy," You smile at him whilst still holding Izzy in your arms

"Why are you complimenting me?" He asks, "It was all your moves after all Carly. When we fight together, my soul merges with yours. So I technically follow your every move."

"Come on buddy I was trying to be emotional about this one," You laugh it off

"I see the both of you kissed and made up?" Javi asks, noting how Izzy was still clinging onto your midsection

Your cheeks flush after you felt her lips gently touch your cheek.

"Izzy, you got a minute?" Amelia asks

She nods and the two of them walk a distance away from the rest of the team.

"Listen," Amelia starts, "I really want to apologize for what happened the other day. Seeing Carly again had made me realize that-"

"Your feelings for her never really went away," Izzy finishes, "And you weren't 100% over her either. It's okay Amelia."

"The truth is too," Amelia adds, "When I see her being around you, she looked... So happy. Happier than she ever was with me and it-it made me jealous."

Izzy instantly gives Amelia a hug; Amelia returning it as well.

"Do me a huge favor and take good care of Carly for me okay?" Amelia asks

"I promise," Izzy smiles

After the fact, you join the rangers in their outing to another one of Izzy's competitions. You haven't been to one in a couple of weeks.

"You know, before I decided to become a pro-boxer, I actually wanted to be a musician," You tell Javi, "Well, in my free time, I'd pick up my instrument and self teach. I can give you some pointers if you ever want to learn guitar."

"That'd be great!" Javi smiles

You watch Izzy as she begins prepping herself for her race. She looks away and spots you; You give her a big smile and a wink like you did at her first competition you attended.