ave🦢

You’re curled up on the sofa, blanket that you’d bought for Jack thrown over your feet, book in your lap. It’s nearing sunset, Aaron has a paper bag of groceries in one arm and his work bag in the other. Jack’s at a sleepover according to your shared calendar on his cell phone, and you had the day off work, so he’s expecting a gentle quiet night of just the two of you. 

You don’t even notice he’s there until he’s discarded his shoes, jacket, tie and bags, coming to sit down with you on the couch. “Aaron,” you brighten, soft smile beaming up at him. You look tired but happy, somehow impossibly prettier since he last saw you four days ago. “You’re home.”

He gives you a matching smile, pulling your feet into his lap with a groan that insinuates more effort than it is. “Hi, honey.” 

Now that he’s properly facing you in the low lamp light of your sitting room, your mouth drops open in horror. “Oh my fucking god, what happened to you?”

Aaron would never say you’re overreacting, especially not when it comes to any anxiety directed at his job. It’s a hard thing to watch him leave for work every morning, knowing that he might not come back, knowing that he might be called away at a moment’s notice for days. But he’d really been hoping to avoid this particular reaction to him coming home from Texas after four days there hunting a woman kidnapping young boys. 

There’s a small cut on his cheek running parallel to his left eye but his right eye is bloodshot and the surrounding skin is turning a sickening shade of green. 

“Got tackled,” he grimaces, more for your benefit than for his own. “Hit my head on an end table. Not very glamorous.” They’d profiled only one unsub, but had raided the house of a woman who ended up having an alibi. The alibi in question, her two hundred pound boyfriend, wasn’t meant to be there. He’d helped Aaron up and apologised profusely, clearly of the mind that he was going to be arrested for assaulting a police officer, but Aaron hadn’t cared, brushing him off to go and call Penelope. That had been almost two full days ago, and Aaron had been sincerely hoping that it would’ve faded by the time he got to see you again. He tells you as such – minus the last sentiment – and watches how your face does not fill with warmth and relief, but instead a deep frown. 

“Two days ago?” You ask him, scrunching your body up almost self-consciously, pulling your feet off his lap and bringing your knees to your chest. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”

Aaron hovers his hand over your foot like he wants to reach out and grab you again, haul you into his lap and murmur sweet nothings to make you forget all about the bruising on his face. You know it’s a little naive of you to expect Aaron to disclose all the grimy details of his job, you usually prefer he doesn’t. But he’s such a sweetheart, and knowing that he’s being tossed around by criminals doesn’t do well to ease your already worrisome mind. 

Aaron sits with it for a moment before speaking up softly. “I am sorry,” he says. “I never want to worry you about my work but I suppose I do often struggle with where the line is between privacy and secrecy. It is never my intention to alienate or hide from you.” He offers his two hands out for yours, giving you more than enough space to take them. “I’ve never found a good balance on what to share, I might need some help with it if that’s okay.”

Your expression softens almost immediately, because of course it does. Aaron could commit arson and sound perfectly sincere. You suppose you’d prefer it over the poor communicators you’ve dated in the past, but it does make it frustratingly hard to stay angry with him. “Yeah, okay, sweet talker.”

He tries really hard not to smile too wide. “Perks of the job.”

“Is that concussion one, too?” You snide, letting him take your hands in his. They’re calloused and bigger than yours, and you love nothing more than when they’re on you. You’re pretty sure Aaron isn’t concussed; you’ve seen him with a concussion or two over the years, and he’s acting annoyingly level about the whole thing. 

Aaron nods importantly. “I get it because I’m the boss.” You crack a smile despite yourself and Aaron relaxes visibly. “There she is.”

You scowl at him and it makes his heart soar. “Don’t ‘there she is’ me. I’m annoyed with you.”

He wants to kiss the frown right off your face, and he’s almost certain you would let him. You’re the loveliest creature he’s ever beheld, urges screaming at him to tug you back into his lap and plant one on you. “You should be. I’m very sorry.”

You huff. “Whatever. Go shower. You smell like crime.”

Aaron uses this excuse to half-stand, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Can I make you dinner when I’m done? I bought things for minestrone.”

Stupid SSA Hotchner and his bruises and his apology and his soup. You look down at your lap, suddenly embarrassed about the fuss you have and will continue to make. “Can I sit in the bathroom while you do?” You’ll sit either on the floor or on the closed toilet lid, behind the shower curtain, just in wanting of being close to him. 

“What do we know?” You swing your bag off your shoulder and take the open seat next to Aaron sitting at the table. 

Garcia turns her laptop on the table so everyone can see the pictures she’s clicking through. 

“Three explosions in the past thirty-six hours, but one was vacant at the time.”

Directly to your left Aaron’s posture straightens. 

“Casuaualties?”

“Four dead from the first bombing, and seven in the second. The third was actually avoided because the coffee shop was closed for a leak in the basement.” 

“What’s the timeline?” Reid asks. 

“That’s the problem,” Garcia admits, “He’s accelerating fast.” 

You flip through the file, "Especially once he finds out that no one was hurt in the most recent bombing.” 

Bombers were bad. They were unpredictable and emotionally detached. An accelerating unsub in such a densely populated city had the potential to be catastrophic. 

You focus on the crime scene photos. A burned-out taxi cab. A destroyed subway platform. And a shattered coffee storefront. Garcia looks pale as she continues to click through more detailed images that include charred remains. 

“The unsub is improving explosives with increasing sophistication,” Aaron observes, “First attack was a low-grade car bomb. The second on the subway showed an escalation in destruction.” 

Reid nods “That suggests learning behavior. He’s gaining confidence.” 

“Or testing response times.” You add. 

Garcia clicks to a distorted image of the New York skyline with 06:00 flashing on it in red. 

“This was also sent to the NYPD. They believe it’s a warning that the next one will be going off at six in the morning today.”

“Which is why we got on the jet at 11:47 at night.” Morgan sighs, wiping at his eyes. 

“It’s a threat.” Aaron ignores Derek and addresses the image. 

The cabin grows quiet while everyone has the same thought. Six hours was not enough time, not in New York. Not with millions of people asleep and unaware someone might be planning another attack. 

“What’s his target type?” Prentiss asks. 

Garcia shakes her head, “Unknown. Right now there aren’t any direct connections, it looks random.” 

“He wants visibility, public fear, and control.” You add, Aaron looking over at you, “He’s forcing anticipation, the waiting becomes part of the attack.” 

JJ sighs, “He wants the whole city scared before he even hits again.” 

“Which means he enjoys this.” Rossi finishes grimly. 

“The head of counterrorism is the one who requested our assistance due to the erratic timeline and timed threat.” 

Your head snaps up to look at Garcia. 

“Mark Hayes?” You ask. 

She types quickly, “Uhhh, let me see. Yes! Mark Hayes, you know him?” 

You swallow, “Mm, you could say that.” 

The team eagerly waits for you to explain and you figure it’s better to explain now than in front of him after landing. 

“We were engaged.” You answer simply. 

The jet bursts with more energy than you thought was possible for midnight on a Sunday. 

“You were engaged? Garcia shouts. 

“What?” Morgan smirks. 

“How did we not know this?” Rossi’s brows furrow. 

Aaron remains perfectly still next to you. Too still. 

“It wasn’t a big deal, it was a few years ago.” You shrug. 

Emily leans forward enthusiastically, “Okay, so he was terrible?”

“No.”

“Toxic?” Garcia asks.

“No.”

“Cheated?” JJ blurts.

“No.” You laugh, shaking your head. 

Reid frowns, “Statically speaking, calling off the wedding becomes significantly less common when those are not relevant factors.” 

You point at him, “See, this is why nobody tells this team anything.” 

Aaron finally speaks, “When did you end it?”

His tone comes out surprisingly calm for how hard he’s trying to keep everything contained. 

“A few weeks before the wedding.” 

He nods once, like that was all. You know him better than that. 

“This is amazing!” Garcia cheers, “I need more details!” 

“We land in twenty minutes.” Aaron’s unit chief voice cuts in, “Let’s focus on the case.” 

Everyone quieted in the cabin, aware of his shift in mood. After landing, the city hit them like a wall. The city never slept and tonight it was actively on edge. Lights and sirens were everywhere chasing false reports and concerned citizens. 

It was after one in the morning when you guys entered the Manhattan field office. Agents were scrambling between briefing rooms and operations centers. In the center of it all, standing tall in a sharp suit, was Mark Hayes. 

You hadn’t seen him since you called off the wedding, but things ended on surprisingly good terms. He had the look of a kind man born for federal leadership, and the team could not deny that you definitely have a type. 

Mark turns when he hears the team approaching, he smiles when he spots you. 

“Well, this is one hell of a reunion.” 

You smile back easily, Aaron notices it right away. You step forward and before the team can prepare themselves, Mark pulls you into a hug. Morgan’s eyes dart back and forth between the hug and Hotch’s reaction. His jaw tightens, but other than that he shows little reaction. 

You pull back first, “You look exhausted.” 

Mark smiles, “Bombers will ruin anyone’s weekend.” 

His eyes shift past you to the rest of the team. 

“And you must be the BAU.”

Introductions happen quickly, he goes down the line shaking everyone’s hands. He reaches Aaron last and you could argue that the handshake looked firm enough to qualify as combat. Rossi noticed. You absolutely noticed. Mark however seemed oblivious. 

“I’ve heard good things about your team.” 

Aaron’s expression stays neutral, “We’re here to stop your unsub.” 

Morgan coughs into his elbow to hide a laugh and you short him a warning look. 

Mark turns back toward you, “Still impossible for you to get sleep before a case?”

“She drank six shots of espresso before a case last month.” Rossi adds, shaking his head. 

Aaron looks at you, mildly alarmed, “Six?”

You turn to Rossi, “Narc.”

The room lightened slightly at the banter, still aware of the threat looming overhead. Everyone except for Aaron, who still remained stiff as a board and glaring at Mark whenever he spoke to you directly. 

Mark had everyone set up in the large conference room with multiple boards containing victim timelines and transit maps. The team worked nonstop for hours. Garcia was scanning the city’s surveillance for any potential cross over of witnesses watching the aftermath of the explosions. 

So far they hadn’t come up with anything solid enough. No identity, target pattern, or clear motive. Six o’clock was getting closer. 

Aaron is standing in the center of the room looking over the boards, hoping to unlock something new. Reid and Morgan are comparing explosive residue reports trying to figure out the unsub’s style. You and Rossi are going over witness statements. Mark is on the other side of the room, directing agents as they rush in and out constantly.

Everyone was moving, but no one was succeeding. 

Garcia lets out a sigh from her laptop, “I hate this guy.” 

She focuses on the seconds passing by on the corner of her laptop screen. It’s almost time if they had correctly understood the unsub’s message. 

Morgan rubs tiredly at his eyes, “Welcome to bombers.” 

“He’s escalating too fast.” Emily exhales, “The next one will be bold after the last failure.” 

Reid nods quickly, “The decreasing cooldown period suggests emotional acceleration and increased confidence.” 

You stand up to stretch your legs and to get a closer look at the boards again. 

You point to the specific attack locations, “They aren’t random high casualty targets. Look at the distance between each of bombings and the closest precinct.” 

You trace your finger between the locations. 

“The first bombing two bombings targeted public transportation, why switch to the coffee shop-”

You’re cut off when suddenly every phone in the room begins to chime. A second later the TV feed cut to breaking news footage. Smoke was pouring out a subway tunnel with screaming people flooding the street. 

“Oh my god.” Garcia cries, pulling up footage of the blast, “It’s six o’clock.”

An agent rushes into Mark directly. 

“Confirmed explosion on the downtown A train.” 

The room froze, Aaron looks up from his phone. 

“Causalties?” He demands. 

The agent swallows, looking between Mark and Aaron. 

“The current estimate is at least thirteen.” 

Silence envelopes the room. 

Mark folds his hand across his forehead, bracing his temples. 

“The A train is a popular commuter train this time of day, the early morning crowd.”

Aaron watched the footage and his jaw looks tight enough it could crack. The unsub had kept his promise, he kept to his time. The field office was controlled chaos surrounding them, phones still ringing. 

“Did we have officers stationed there?” Aaron asks, raising a harsh brow at Mark. 

“I’ll have to check.” 

“You don’t know?” Aaron’s tone easily switching to disrespectful. 

Mark looks at him, “No, I don’t know each individual subway platform’s assignment.” 

“It would be beneficial if you did.” Aaron bites, turning his attention back to the screen where Garcia is pulling up the surrounding area’s footage. 

“Right.” Mark steps out quietly, pulling a couple agents. 

You turn to look at Aaron, you thought the tight jaw was coming from failure of not catching the unsub but it relaxes once Mark has left the room. He’s actually ridiculous. 

Everyone around the room moves, there’s no time for grief. Hours and hours pass and the team was still nowhere near an arrest. Rossi, Morgan, and Emily went down to the scene to see if there were any new clues. Mark eventually dared to return to the room and rejoin the team. 

You pace in front of the board again, thinking. 

“He’s not escalating randomly.” 

Aaron and Mark look up immediately and you step back toward the map. 

“He’s building towards something symbolic. He wants to highlight that we can’t do anything to stop him, no matter how close or fast we are.” 

Mark moves behind you, “Mass casualty finale.” 

“No.” You shake your head, “Something personal. It’s possible the police have let him down, maybe he lost someone and is blaming the police.” 

Aaron picks up quickly, “He wants public fear and anticipation to highlight our failure. He can give us a time of attack and we still can’t prevent it.” 

Reid nods slowly, “Psychological dominance over institutions.” 

“Exactly.” You snap your fingers. 

“So the subway bombing wasn’t the goal. It was a demonstration.” Mark continues as he steps closer to the board. 

Aaron crosses his arms, “Meaning?”

“He wants law enforcement reacting predictably. That means his final target will be federal response infrastructure.” 

Aaron frowns, “No.” 

Mark looks over, “No?”

“If his motivations were to target the real object of his rage he would be targeting precincts. He’s seeking to humiliate and ruin the idea of protection connected to police presence.” 

Mark’s jaw tightens, “Not necessarily-”

“Yes, necessarily.” Aaron counters, “Terrorists seeking symbolic collapse need public recognition.”

Mark folds his arms too, mirroring Aaron’s stance. Your eyes widen watching this escalate. 

“And if he’s not seeking the collapse of the police system?”

The back and forth between them continues, no one else on the team getting a word in. Emily turns toward Morgan and mouths ‘Oh my god’. Rossi looks like he’s getting a headache and you would have to say the same. 

“Your approach is widening the suspect pool unnecessarily.” Aaron spits. 

Mark gave a short humorless laugh, “And yours has gotten us exactly nowhere.” 

There it was. It settles heavy over the room and Aaron’s expression somehow turned colder. 

“Excuse me?”

Mark holds his ground, “You were right about one thing. We’re running out of time.” 

You turn toward JJ, “The testosterone levels in here are getting unbearable.” 

Aaron steps closer to him, “And you think panic improves judgment?”

“Alright-” You stand from your seat, ready to shut the two of them down. It’s clear that neither of them is capable. 

“I think ego gets people killed.” 

“Okay, enough!” You announce loudly, “Speaking of humiliation?” 

With wild eyes you look between the two men who still look like they could hit the other. Neither can break the angry staredown they’ve become locked in. 

“You.” You point directly at Aaron, “Out. Now.” 

Your tone alone makes Morgan sit up straighter in his seat. You march straight out of the room and hear his sharp steps behind you. You push on the heavy metal door that leads to the stairwell. It slams loudly behind him, echoing and leaving the two of you standing there in silence. Plain concrete walls with harsh fluorescent lights. 

You spin around and face him, you’re simmering with anger at this point.

“What the hell was that?” 

His expression remains cold, “We had a disagreement.” 

“No,” You snap, “You picked a fight.”

He scoffs, “That’s not what happened.” 

“No?” You raise your brows, “That was practically a dick measuring contest.”

“Y/n.” He warns your name, anger flashing in his eyes directed at you this time. 

“What? Now you have decency?”

He lets out a long exhale and runs a tired hand over his face. He takes a step closer to you, you don’t step back. 

“This isn’t the time.”

“You’re right, it isn’t.” You scoff, “But you just made it the time when you went head to head in the middle of operations.”

“That had nothing to do with you-”

“Bullshit.” The word echoes through the stairwell. He almost looks stunned that you had said it, “I can sit through your son’s soccer game with your ex-wife, that you left me for-”

“That’s not-” His face softens. 

“Over a decade ago!” You continue with a shout, “And you can’t even work a case with someone I was engaged to but didn’t even marry?” 

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He knows there isn’t an answer for that and you let out a sharp laugh of disbelief. 

“Wow.”

“Y/n-”

“That’s pathetic.” The word hits hard and you intended it to. He actually looks away from you for a second, and you cross your arms over your chest. 

“You don’t get to stare Mark down across briefing rooms like some jealous college boyfriend.”

“I wasn’t.” He argues. 

“You were.” 

He falls silent again. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates. Aaron had seen you angry many times before but this was the first time it was rendering him speechless. The only sound in the stairwell is your uneven breaths following the rapid rise and fall of your chest. 

“You knew I was engaged before I told the team.” You call out, calling to attention the real reason you both know he’s acting like this. His eyes dart to yours, finally shifting his expression.

“You didn’t even flinch when I said I was engaged. Everyone else was surprised, but you weren’t. You were contained.” 

He exhales, “Y/n-”

“How did you know?” You search his eyes, looking back and forth between them. 

The stairwell goes quiet, other than the distant office noise filtering in. Aaron rubs a tired hand over his face before straightening to look at you seriously. 

“I went to see you.” 

You frown immediately, “What?”

His eyes are fixed on you, the mask off. He looks devastated and raw. The most open he’s been since the two of you were in the academy. 

“Years ago when Haley and I first separated.”

You simply stare at him. Haley’s question from Saturday flashing in your mind. Did he reach out to you after we separated? You swallow once. 

“You came to Los Angeles?” 

He nods, “There was a conference on human trafficking.” 

The recognition flashes on your face instantly. You remembered that conference vividly, it was one of the biggest presentations of your career at that point. Aaron offers a short humorless laugh. 

“You were incredible.” The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, “I stayed through the entire presentation. Everyone was in awe, so was I.” 

You continue to stare, your anger now mixing with confusion. 

“But you didn’t talk to me?” 

There it was. The regret on his face was deep enough to drown in. 

“I saw the ring.” 

The engagement ring. Mark’s ring. The very one that lived on your left hand for over a year. 

“I saw you had moved on and didn’t want to bother you. I left because I had absolutely no right to feel devastated by seeing it.” 

You cross your arms tighter, “But you were.”

“Yes.” 

He says it without hesitation or excuses. 

“I left before you even saw me.”

His eyes hold yours steadily now. You laugh sharply once, overwhelmed now more than angry. 

“All this time.” You mutter, pacing to turn away from him. “I thought you never looked back.” 

“I always looked back.” 

That hurts. It’s something you had always wanted to hear, but never expected at this point. With tears in your eyes you turn back to face him. 

“And then I joined the BAU.”

He nods, “Without the ring.” 

And you thought you were clever for catching his missing one. 

“So what? You just haven’t been with anyone since? You just waited?”

“Of course I waited. I said you were what I wanted.” 

You swallow at his admission, his eyes burrowing into yours. 

“And if I never joined the team? If I had married Mark?” 

He takes a step closer to you, you fight the urge to retreat. His figure looms over you and having him this close again reminds you of the warmth that rolls off of him. 

“You told me exactly what would happen.” 

You look at him sharply, “What?”

“Back at Quantico.” 

Your breath catches slightly. The fight. The breakup. 

Someday you’re going to wake up beside her again and wonder why it still feels like something’s missing.

“You were right.” 

Your jaw falls slack in surprise at the honest admission. Aaron is finally admitting something he’d buried for years. The stairwell felt too intimate, too dangerous at this point. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I can’t make myself regret the decision because it got me Jack, but I regret letting you go. Those eight months meant everything to me, and I was foolish to think following the plan was the right thing to do.” 

He shakes his head, “I never moved on after that. Everyone thought it was from the divorce, but the truth is you. I just… It’s only been you.” 

You take a step back eventually to create distance. This conversation was headed somewhere neither of you could afford right now. Not during an active bombing case. 

“This-” You gesture between the two of you, “needs to wait until after the case. We need to focus on catching this unsub.” 

He nods, stepping back and straightening his tie. 

“You acted like an ass in there.” 

He nods again, “I know.” 

“Mark didn’t deserve that.” 

He tilts his head to debate for a second and your stare straightens him. 

“You’re lucky that I’m trying very hard to be mature.” 

He has a quick faint smile. 

“We need to get our heads back on straight.” 

His expression shifts back into unit chief again. Focused and controlled. 

“You’re right.” 

When the two of you walk back into the conference room, the entire team looks up. It was a dramatic exit and no one was even going to bother with pretending to mind their own business. 

“Well, at least you both came back alive.” Morgan leans back in his chair. 

Emily nearly chokes on her coffee, spinning to face away and hide her grin. 

JJ looks carefully between you two, “You guys okay?”

“Yes.” “No.” 

You both answer at the same time and the room erupts. Rossi tries to hide his delight with his hand blocking his mouth. 

“We need to refocus.” Aaron moves back to the board trying to restore order through sheer professionalism. 

Morgan points at him, “See, that voice right there means he’s embarrassed.” 

“I’m not embarrassed.” He frowns. 

“You absolutely are.” Emily presses. 

Before Aaron could attempt to redirect the room, Rossi stands from his chair decisively. 

“Okay, new idea.” He claps, “You all look terrible.” 

Morgan looks offended, “I always look good.” 

“Everyone has been awake too long and tired profilers make mistakes.” He points out, “The unsub hasn’t made his next move and we don’t want to get sloppy now.” 

Aaron nods once, “He’s right.” 

Rossi starts to assign with the confidence of a tired Italian father, all too used to wrangling this chaos. 

“Morgan, Prentiss, and Y/LN. Head back to the hotel.” 

“Why me?” You ask, “If anyone needs a nap it’s him.” 

The team chuckles when you point at Hotch. 

“We’re not giving you anymore caffeine.” JJ admits with a sympathetic smile, “Reid’s been keeping track.” 

You cut him a look, “Of course you are.” 

“Plus you look about ten seconds away from threatening a federal agent.” Rossi sighs. 

You raise a brow, “Who’s to say I haven’t already?”

Chuckles pass around the team but it’s clear you won’t win this fight. 

“Hotel.” Rossi points toward the door, “Now.”

You grab your bag while Emily and Derek do the same. The door opens again and this time Mark walks back in. His sleeves are rolled up and the exhaustion and frustration are clearer now.

His eyes land on you, “You leaving already?”

You sling your bag over your shoulder, "I’m being forcibly sedated.” 

He smiles, “Probably for the best. You get scary after twenty hours awake.” 

Morgan leans back in anticipation, this was dangerous territory and he was pressing on a nerve. Garcia’s eyes widen, drinking Mark in entirely and hiding it behind a big mug.

“Unless you’re being kept up for a good reason.” 

You roll your eyes at his lack of subtlety, shaking your head as you walk over to the door. 

You pat his cheek, “You’re an ass. Everything after this is on you now.” 

Hotch managed to hide his emotions well, he knew he had everyone’s eyes waiting on him already. He said absolutely nothing which surprised everyone, including Mark. After the conversation in the stairwell he knew better than that. He wasn’t willing to risk another argument and it softened your irritation just a fraction. 

“Get some sleep.” Mark calls. 

You head toward the elevator with Morgan and Prentiss following behind. The second the doors close and you start to descend Morgan turns toward you. 

“Oh, Hotch is down bad!” 

Emily bursts out laughing. 

You shake your head, “Don’t ever say that again.” 

“I’m serious!” Morgan continues, “That man was fighting for his life in there.” 

“He was trying not to piss her off again.” Emily corrects. 

You lean back against the elevator wall, letting them go back and forth highlighting everything else. The exhaustion is starting to settle into your bones and Aaron’s words start to sink in deeper.

The hotel room was dark thanks to the thick curtains. A faint line of light escapes the bottom where there’s a small gap, you stare at the ceiling overhead. 

Morgan had disappeared into his room with the simple raise of a peace sign and Emily insisted she was setting three alarms. You changed into an oversized FBI hoodie and managed to stare at the ceiling for a full hour without moving. Your brain could not shut up. 

Aaron had gone to Los Angeles. Years ago. He admitted you were right in the ugliest moment shared between you two. You had spent years furious with him, while still knowing that no one had ever loved you like that. A decade of the two of you quietly carrying unresolved feelings like idiots. He was making it harder for you to hate him. 

You roll onto your side with an annoyed groan. 

Aaron Hotchner had been yearning for you for years. Without the safety net of a wife. Quietly. Patiently. Without saying a word. You genuinely don’t know what to do with that.

-

Exhaustion eventually caught up with you until hours later the ringing of your phone had you violently sitting up. You reach out for it on the nightstand and answer it.

“Y/LN.” 

A brief pause. 

“We got another message.” Aaron’s voice comes in. That wakes you up fully. 

“What kind of message?”

“The unsub posted a countdown.” 

Your stomach drops. 

“How long?”

“Twelve hours.” 

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed. 

“I’m on my way back in.” 

He hesitates for a second, “Get coffee first.” 

You snort, surprised. “Is that an order?”

“The only stuff we’ve got here is the shitty drip that you hate.”

You pause while putting on your shoes.

“Thanks for the warning.” 

“Hurry.”

The line disconnects and you roll your eyes. Twenty minutes later you’re walking into the Manhattan field office with a coffee in hand. The operation center looks even worse now, more clutter and down to a half dozen agents still here working.

Emily and Morgan are already there and it would seem this was a trade out. JJ, Reid, and Rossi went back to the hotel to get some sleep for the night. Aaron clearly had no intention of going with them. A couple more hours crawl by, Derek eventually escorting Garcia back to the hotel before coming back. 

The subway maps all begin to blur after staring at them for so long. 

“The timing isn’t about casualty numbers.” 

Emily frowns, “What?”

You point between the different attack locations.

“He’s following emergency response routes. He’s creating them in places that would require reroutes for emergency routes.” 

Aaron moves closer to look over your discovery. 

“Every attack forces the city to redirect resources. He’s learning response patterns.” 

Morgan’s eyes narrow, “Which means his final target could depend on delayed coverage.” 

You nod, “He could be trying to inflict enough chaos and fear to funnel resources into one spot, and then targeting that location.” 

“We should check the previous target sites and see what he was looking for.” Morgan studies the map. 

You nod, “You and Emily should go check it out.” 

He looks between you and Hotch before getting up. Emily grabs her jacket off the back of her chair and the two of them are off. 

The room becomes quiet again once they leave. Tall stacks of files. Cold coffee sitting in the pot in the corner of the room. There’s a small TV playing the news quietly on a constant cycle. You look up from your laptop just in time to catch Aaron trying to hide another yawn behind his hand. 

“You need sleep.” 

He slowly looks up from the file, meeting you with heavy, tired eyes. Still watery from the yawn. 

“I’m fine.” 

You raise an unimpressed brow, “Aaron.” 

“I’m not leaving.” He insists. 

“I know.” 

Your answer makes him pause slightly. You gesture toward the back wall of the room behind you. There's a small grey office couch along the wall with ugly green throw pillows. 

“I know you won’t go to the hotel, but you do need to get sleep.”

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“You’re exhausted.” 

“We’re running out of time.” He argues. 

“And having a delirious unit chief is going to help?” 

He looks amused briefly before he has to rub tiredly at his eyes. Aaron looks at you for a long moment, still stubborn as ever and clearly weighing his options. 

“I’ll still be working.” You remind.

“And if you find something?” 

“I’ll wake you up.”

Reluctantly he scoots his chair back and stands, “Fine.” 

You try not to look too victorious until he slowly loosens his tie before pulling it free entirely. The movement felt weirdly intimate with just the two of you in the quiet room. You turn your focus back to your laptop and he rounds the table for the couch behind you. 

Without the tie and jacket he looks a lot less like Unit Chief Hotchner and more like Aaron. It felt dangerous. 

He settles onto the couch with obvious reluctance, letting out an annoyed sigh. You spin around in your chair to look at him. He’s laying on his side facing out toward you and the rest of the room, his eyes closed forcibly and his feet hanging off the other end of the couch. 

“You look miserable.” A laugh escapes before you can help it. 

He squints open to peek at you, “You force me to sleep on the couch and now you make fun of me for it?” 

“Yeah, so what?” You smile, spinning back quickly to get back to work. You begin typing again trying to find more emergency city plans for any potential overlap. 

Minutes pass and you know he isn’t asleep yet. 

“You’re still angry with me.” He eventually calls out. 

You don’t move a muscle, still focused on your laptop. Aaron stares at the back of your head, following the outline of your neck to where it disappears into your bureau hoodie. 

“Yes.” You answer honestly. 

He nods slightly like he expected that, “You should be.”

This gets you to look over your shoulder. His eyes are still on you and there’s no defensiveness to it, just acceptance. 

“Aaron.” 

“I meant what I said earlier.” 

Your chest tightens, “You can’t say things like that and expect things to magically be okay.” 

“I know.” 

The frustrating part was he did know. You could see the open regret on his face. 

You exhale quietly and run a hand through your hair, “Go to sleep. 

A smile touches the corner of his mouth. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You roll your eyes instantly and turn back to your work, “Don’t start.” 

His eyes were already drifting shut, he had fought it long enough. Aaron Hotchner finally fell asleep and you sat quietly at the table. Listening to the soft hum of the TV and Aaron’s easy deep breathes. Every once and a while your gaze drifts back behind you toward the couch. 

Toward the man who had apparently been carrying you with him for years. The man that you were still furious with. The man that somehow understood you better than anyone else in the world. 

That terrified you a little. 

-

an// Happy Monday, my loves! Lemme hear it ALL you guys, replies seriously make my day! Aaron is such an idiot but OH my god the yearning PLZ! Also the engagement was in fact real, but sadly we all know no one quite measures up to Aaron Hotchner (even when he is so in the doghouse).

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