call me s :)

I’m 6’2 and weigh 180lbs

He strikes me as the type of person to sit at his desk and zone out, forcing himself to the brink of an anxiety attack because of the ways he’s failed his team. Reid and Dilaudid. JJ’s fear of dogs. Prentiss and Cyrus “I can take it”. Garcia getting shot– why didn’t he think to get her any formal training? 

Until he convinces himself that they’re a happy family without him. Each time Garcia’s greets them at the doors of the bullpen– fresh coffee, hand-made sandwiches, or drinks– in hand and greets them with a smile and “family” she doesn’t mean him.

She means JJ and Emily. Spending girls nights in one of their respective apartments. Shopping on the weekends. Picking sides in Morgan and Reid’s shenanigans.

She means the brotherly relationship between Reid and Morgan. Inseparable except for every time they disagree. Arguments of the week and prank wars that never seem to end. 

She means Dave seeing right through their lies and bullshit. The arm he puts around their shoulders as he directs them towards the elevator sweet talking whatever brandy or whiskey he’s going to pull out for them.

Until one of them comes knocking on his office door. And he can’t leave. He won’t leave them and have their fun ruined by an outsider who can’t understand that Garcia is above the FBI’s stupid dress regulation. That Prentiss stays late in the office because she can’t stand to go home to her empty apartment but it helps to offer to let her come see Jack. That Dave doesn’t play by the rule but it’s better that way. That Derek can be a hard-head who can make life a living hell but no one can do the things that Derek Morgan can.

“Are you coming Hotch?”

There’s always a split-second when he looks up from his paperwork flooded desk and the words nearly roll off his tongue. He needs to know because he’s not sure. “Do I belong on this team?” In this family?

But he looks up and he looses his will. He just nods, “yeah.” 

And maybe that’s reason enough.