🍇grape•crush🍇

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Hiding your limp would be painful, but easy. Your bloody lip on the other hand would be harder to disguise. You winced as you pressed a cold paper towel to the cut in an attempt to help the swelling go down, but it wasn’t working and if you didn’t catch the next metro to Quantico your brother, Derek, would likely assume that someone had kidnapped you. You slung your backpack over your shoulder and limped out of the bathroom towards the metro platform.

For the entire fifteen minute train ride you tried to come up with the best story possible to explain why your lip was busted- so far your best idea was just to tell everyone that you got hit in the face with a dodgeball during gym class- but there were no seats available on the underground car, forcing you to stand on your aching leg. By the time your stop was reached it was nearly impossible for you to walk normally without wincing. Still, you put on a brave face as you got into the elevator and pressed the button that would take you to the sixth floor.

You thought about your story again for just a second. Was there even a point in hiding the truth from profilers?

The elevator doors opened and you decided the best course of action was to hide your limp as best as you possibly could and go with the dodgeball story. You practiced keeping a straight face as you walked into the bullpen area.

Just like everyday they were home from a case, your brother looked over at you as you walked through the glass doors and toward his desk.

“Hey (Y/N), how was- oh what happened?” Derek stood up from his desk as you reached him, touching a gentle hand to your face.

“Dodgeball is what happened,” you said, pulling your face away. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure it’s fine?” Spencer said from his desk.

Ugh, you thought. Profilers. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

You went to move to the empty desk across from Derek’s but couldn’t contain a wince as you sat down. You could feel the looks of your brother, Spencer, and Agent Prentiss watching you carefully as you took out your homework and continued to try to convince them that everything was truly fine.

---

It was almost the end of the work day. Prentiss had already left with JJ and Garcia for girls night. Rossi had gone too- probably to do some rich guy stuff. Your brother was sitting in Hotch’s office, the two of them discussing one last consult before going home. The only people in the bullpen were you and Spencer.

You finished up your homework and put it away, grateful that you could forget about school for the day.

“So, dodgeball?” Spencer asked as you bent down to put your folder in your backpack.

“Yep,” you said. “Dodgeball.”

“And you got hit on the hip too?” Spencer said. You didn’t reply. “I don’t think there’s a formal statistic for being hit in the face with a dodgeball and on the hip at the same time, but I’d imagine the chances are about 0.032% depending on the environment.”

“I guess I’m just that lucky,” you replied, avoiding the agent’s gaze as you sat up, wincing at the movement of your hip again.

“(Y/N),” Spencer said. “Did someone hurt you?”

You sighed. “Not exactly.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows, encouraging you to go on.

“I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“I think you really should,” Spencer retorted. “You hang out around a bunch of profilers and we have Garcia. We’re going to find out what happened eventually.”

You sighed. “You won’t because it’s not on record.”

“So there was a risk of something being on record?”

Shit. You had really given yourself away on that one.

“(Y/N), if someone is being mean to you-”

“They aren’t mean to me,” you started, frustration having built up in your chest. “There’s this kid. He skipped the third grade so he’s a year younger than everyone else. He’s super nice though. I was struggling with homework the last time you guys were on a case and he just came over to me in the library one day and started helping me. I didn’t even have to ask. He reminds me of you.” You sighed. “But the upperclassmen like to pick on him. On the way to lunch there was a group trying to shove the guy in a locker and I- I couldn’t just stand there…”

“So you got in the middle of them?” Spencer asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. I have hand-to-hand training but it was still stupid of me. There were three of them and one of me.”

Spencer shook his head. “I don’t think it was stupid. I think it was brave.” He smiled at you a little bit. “I wish someone would have done that for me when I was in school.”

You were about to reply when Derek called to you from just outside Hotch’s office. “(Y/N)? You ready to go?”

You nodded and rose to your feet, wincing as you put pressure where your leg was still sore. Derek walked out of the bullpen with you and the two of you got in the elevator together.

“So,” he said. “Dodgeball got you good, huh?”

“It did. I think I need another hand-to-hand class,” you said.

Derek nodded. “Alright. We can do that. There’s one on Saturday that has an opening.”

You thought for a second about what Spencer had said before adding, “Do you think I have room to bring a friend?”

Derek smiled. “What kind of friend?”

You shook your head. “Nothing like that, big brother. Just someone who reminds me of Reid and had a run-in with a dodgeball today as well.”

Derek smiled softly. "Alright. I'll make room for your friend. And next time, maybe you should tell the dodgeball that your brother carries a gun."