ok i know revelations was a couple episodes back, but there were a couple things i wanted to explore a little more in depth. specifically the iconic “what’s my worst quality” scene because im insane
this is suuuch an interesting moment because we really get to see hotch stumble as a leader. he’s questioning himself and the way the team views him--
so he asks his question: whats my worst quality
the others are hesitant to answer for various reasons. for emily and jj, the newer members of the team, they know it’s just not a good idea generally to insult your boss. and this feels like a trap. but gideon and morgan have been around him long enough to recognize his body language: frantic, shaky, and a certain strain in his voice. he’s vulnerable. and whatever they say now, no matter what they say, they know will cut him deep. so they don’t want to answer
hotch persists and pushes the others to answer. in his mind, for good reason. he thinks he knows what reid’s message is, but he doesn’t want to presume that he doesn’t have this trait: he has to make doubly sure that the others can follow his logic on this. he has this idea of who he is as a leader and reid’s comment throws doubt on that. he doesn’t want to be a narcissist, he needs to know that’s not how they see him.
it’s so telling that the first to answer is jj. she’s blunt and brutal with her assertion. it’s direct. you. are. a. bully. leaves nothing up for discussion, just saying it as if it were fact. to be fair, she’s gone through (currently going through) some pretty traumatic events these past few days, so she doesn’t exactly have the composure to express this any nicer.
but she answers quickly. too quickly. she didn’t have to give it a lot of thought to it: this is something she genuinely believes.
morgan instantly recognizes it. he may not know to what extent, but he understands at a base level that, even if he really is genuinely asking so they could move on to the next phase of interpreting reid’s message, hotch is going to take what they say to heart.
so he softens the blow. automatically his tone is more gentle. he’s speaking lowly, just under what he’d sound like in a normal conversation. he’s trying to keep it casual. and there’s something much less direct about his answer. “you can be” which, though just a few words, is worlds away from “you are” in meaning. it’s something he’s capable of, but not something that necessarily defines him. it’s a behavior, not a characteristic.
emily’s answer is interesting, and honestly aligns with her character perfectly well. she’s not disparaging like jj, or even hesitant like morgan. she recognizes his intent and chimes in the way she would any other brainstorm session with the group. she’s not worried about his feelings, she’s just going to answer the question. this is just another part of the case, another path to the next stage: finding reid.
hotch has been hostile towards her from the beginning, there’s no doubt about that. it’s understandable that she’d want to see his distrust as something generalized instead of targeted. but, again, even though criticism is just as negative as jj’s (bully and misogynist are not exactly great attributes), there’s no derision behind it. she really answers the way she would if he was asking for suggestions on a profile. it’s.. almost enthusiastic? because she knows he’s onto something and she knows the next step is right there, he just needs their help to reach it.
morgan is apprehensive. emily is, at the very least, not trying to insult him. which makes jj’s response stand out all the more. it’s not gentle. it’s not a suggestion. it’s not something you would say to a good person. “you’re a bully.”
again, we’ve got to scramble to put together scattered crumbs of a backstory for hotch, but i think by now most of us agree that hotch was, at some level, abused by his father as a child. and we know that hotch has taken great strides to keep whatever he may have inherited, whatever perotta relishes in, at bay.
he’s actively trying to be a better man than his father. trying to be a better father than his father. he’s so heartbreakingly gentle with jack. he doesnt yell, he doesnt talk down to him, he doesnt even make sudden movements.
i’ve only capped so many episodes, so i have limited options of interactions with jack. but honestly it doesn’t even matter--you could pull from any scene between jack and hotch and watch how tender, how cautions he is with his son. he doesn’t want to repeat that cycle of abuse.
they have to move on quickly to save reid, so they don’t exactly get to go over the conversation and he doesnt get a chance to process what they’ve said. but we know he doesnt let it go easily. and instead of getting frustrated with them and angry with them for anything they said, he sits and stews in it. bringing up a season later that hopefully their next unit chief “wouldn’t be such a drill sergeant.” knocking on emily’s apartment door to bring her back into the team after finding out how easy it would’ve been for her to throw him under the bus with strauss.
i think he tries. he tries to be better. he learns from others and puts thought and precision and care into his actions. he doesn’t want to be the kind of person his father was. he doesn’t want to be a bully. but that’s exactly what she calls him, and i can’t help but wonder how that particular comment made him feel.
part two of my “hotch is good at everything” hc. penelope’s a little jealous, but it’s outweighed (and outnumbered) by the team’s bewilderment. i tried actually writing fucking dialogue since i realized i hadn’t done that yet, so it was kind of a last minute addition. anyway. pretend this isn’t a day late
Hotch was a good baker.
Not a lot of people would’ve guessed that about him, but if you thought about it a little bit, it’s really not that much of a surprise.
It’s meticulous. Precise. Everything is about following every rule to the letter. It requires patience.
It’s right up Hotch’s alley.
Penelope was the one known for bringing tasty treats to the BAU. She enjoyed cooking for others; she would recipe test weekly, and whatever passed inspection would get mass produced and left on the break table or communal fridge. It was an irregular, but common, tradition.
Common enough that no one questioned it when a platter piled with cookies showed up one day in the kitchenette. Or the next week when a dozen pounds of fudge appeared on the counter. Or the following week when there were stacks of tupperware filled with cupcakes.
Penelope was a little confused when a passing agent would compliment her on her latest creation, but quickly brushed it aside. It wasn’t until the third week of undue praise that she asked Derek if he knew what they were talking about.
She didn’t leave the batcave often—especially when the others were out on a case—and even when she did she was either in the round table room or hovering around her friends’ desks. She rarely had reason to be in the break area, other than the times she dropped off food.
So it came as a bit of a shock to them all when she admitted she hadn’t brought anything recently. Curious, with nothing better to do and a laughable social life, they decided to attempt to ferret out the resident baker.
It took a few days of arriving hours early and staking out the breakroom (they had duos on a daily rotation: Penelope and Derek were today’s) until they finally saw Hotch walk in with a tin of brownies.
They thought they were delirious at first. The others definitely did when they broke the news. They sat on their desks in a circle, uncharacteristically silent, lost in thought as they imagined Aaron Hotchner baking. It was painfully domestic; certainly not unreasonable—they knew he had a family, after all—but such a stark contrast to their mental image of their powerful leader. It took nearly an hour for each of them to shake off their stupor and they resumed the huddle to determine their next move.
The confrontation was as boisterous as expected: not by Hotch, mind you, but by the gaggle of excitable agents tripping over each other to get into his office like crabs trying to get out of a bucket. The small room was suddenly very crowded.
“…Can I help you?” Hotch asked warily, raising an eyebrow as the commotion settled.
For once they were quiet, eyeing each other waiting for someone else to say something first. JJ was ultimately the one to muster the courage and blurt out, “Do you bake?”
It was more of an accusation than a question, and Hotch’s face remained impassive, though he felt a hint of a tug on his lips. So that’s what this was about. “Yes.”
They all knew better than to expect him to elaborate on his own. Emily shouldered her way through Reid and Morgan to stand in front. “And you’ve been bringing stuff here? To the BAU?”
Another question that wasn’t a question. Hotch simply nodded.
Penelope huffed, growing a little impatient and admittedly a little peeved that someone else—their unit chief, no less—had been providing food for the rest of the team. Good food. She’d always been better at cooking than baking, and it was a little embarrassing to be outdone by someone she forgot even ate food. “Any particular reason?” Morgan asked, smartly phrasing it in a way that would garner an actual response.
Hotch shrugged noncommittally, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. If they squinted hard enough, it almost seemed like he was smug. The nerve. “Jack’s been wanting to bake more often. He’s trying to figure out what to bring for the class party. It’s too much for just the two of us.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He could hear Emily smile more than he could see it, which should’ve been enough of an answer in itself. He knew he would be teased no matter what he said, and he wasn’t interested in encouraging them. He remained silent.
Reid, practically married to the coffee machine therefore in the break room constantly, ran through his recollections of food available in recent months. “Did you bring the sugar cookies last June?”
Hotch nodded curtly, growing tired of questions they knew the answers to. If it was possible for five people to collectively wince, they would have. They knew they would wear down his patience eventually. They probably had about a handful of questions left before he sent them away.
“How long have you been baking?”
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, silently counting. “About 25 years.”
“Oh shit,” Emily hissed quietly, earning an elbow in the gut from JJ. Though none of them could really fault her for voicing their surprise.
The interrogation continued. “Have you brought food before?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been bringing food?”
Hotch jutted his chin towards Rossi’s office. “More in the early days. Didn’t have much time when I was adjusting to the unit chief workload. But I still do every once and a while.”
Reid was making a mental note of all the times there had been baked goods waiting in the breakroom. He locked eyes with Penelope and they silently agreed to go over the list later to check what she had/hadn’t brought and figure out what exactly their esteemed leader fed them.
“What else can you make?”
Another shrug, but this one was laced with barely perceivable exasperation. Their time was running out.
An energy sizzled in the air as they all feverishly whittled down their curiosities, trying to decide what to prioritize. It was only a handful of seconds, but with their minds were working overdrive, it might as well have been hours.
Morgan ultimately made the final request. “Will you make something for us?”
A pause. The other silently approved the question, but they feared all they’d receive in return would be a blank glare. But it was worth a shot. It opened the door for future discussions, which they knew wouldn’t go unnoticed by the senior profiler.
The next few seconds were excruciating before he finally replied. “What would you like?”
If the room was buzzing before, it was positively electric now. They turned to each other and whispered in a hushed deliberation. They hadn’t really considered the possibility that they would have options. Seemingly endless options if his vague responses were anything to go by—a known indicator of Hotch’s humility. He was likely more skilled than they previously thought. It was impossible to decide.
“Can we ask later?” They were all wide eyed, brimming with hope and practically pouting. It wasn’t dissimilar to Jack’s kindergarten class.
Hotch hummed and waved them off with one hand as he returned to the paperwork on his desk, taking care not to smile until the door closed behind them.
this is probably the closest I can get to writing a crack fic. the premise might be ridiculous, but I believe they’re wholehearted in their sincerity. it is, at least, by far the silliest headcanon I have
A caffeine shortage would prove deadly at the BAU. The religious devotion to coffee—even cheap, cop coffee—was practically a job requirement. Having “coffee fiend” on your resume was the equivalent of Reid’s several doctorates, maybe even more important. Chugging a red bull laced with five-hour energy is not an experience exclusive to college finals, but at least the fine agents at the BAU had the sense to be discreet about it.
As such, morning coffee was more than an essential. The problem, however, was that not everyone was able to handle temperamental coffee machines available in the various precincts/hotel rooms the team found themselves in. Spencer and Hotch seemed to be the only ones capable of coaxing anything remotely drinkable out of whatever sub-par materials they had to work with. The rest lamented over the slow trickle of laughably watery liquid that filled their mugs. Most had to push away tears as they threw the drink away (other than Emil, who would rip open packets of Splenda and down the drink, pretending not to shudder as she stubbornly refused to admit defeat). It was truly a mockery of a morning ritual.
Many just gave up. JJ could usually bat her eyelashes to get some low-ranked officer to go fetch her a drink. Morgan made a point of waking up early to make a stop at the nearest place offering coffee—whether it’s a coffee shop, gas station, or fast food joint—before rejoining the rest of the team. Rossi followed suit, but was much more comfortable strolling into work half an hour late with a to-go cup from some ridiculously overpriced café, unphased by Hotch’s pointed glares at his tardiness. The lengths they would go to would be laughable, if pitying their desperation wasn’t a guaranteed way of getting shot.
If she called early enough in the morning, Penelope could expect uncharacteristically biting responses to her bubbly greetings. She knew better than to take it personally: they didn’t bother hiding their envy, knowing that she always brought a thermos of ambrosia to savor.
(After hearing JJ complain about breakroom coffee for the umpteenth time, Penelope brought an additional thermos the next morning. Like sharks sensing blood in the water, the rest of the team quickly descended and begged for their own with strained politeness. She woke up early the following day to prepare a gallon to satiate her enthralled coworkers but made sure to tell them it was a one-time thing. She loves them, but there are limits to the effort she’ll go to prove it at seven in the morning.)
Hotch categorically refused to shell out federal funds for a group Starbucks run, which would normally make him a target for violence if he wasn’t the only one capable of making something palatable with the shittiest ingredients available. Spencer was good for a spare mug on occasion (which was usually reserved for Derek), but the young genius typically needed a pot to himself to maintain coherence. The others had no choice but to rely on Hotch’s benevolence.
Because he was really good at making coffee. Rossi credited that to years of training, meaning accompanying senior agents in the early BAU days and forced to make their coffee or risk getting ditched to find his own way back to Virginia—or worse, have to sit in a car for six hours with an ill-tempered Max Ryan. (At least, that was Rossi’s excuse for why he barely knew how to use a coffee-maker in the first place.) Truthfully none of that really mattered to the rest, as long as they stayed on Hotch’s good side long enough (or at least early enough in the morning) to be graced with a drinkable cup of coffee.
If Hotch knew how the others felt, he didn’t let on. His routine just happened to work out so the others benefited from his rituals. He was usually the first one at the office, and even if he was nowhere to be found in the bullpen (why bureaucrats were so adamant about scheduling meetings first thing in the morning was beyond him), there was usually a pot waiting as the others trickled in.
It wasn’t just “the fantastical seven” (or whatever nickname Penelope had bestowed on the group that week) who recognized the unit chief’s skills. It was an unspoken understanding between the agents working in the bullpen that the drinking habits of the floor should be tailored around Hotchner’s schedule: the pot should be empty when he usually took his breaks. If there was an anomaly and he started heading towards the kitchenette area at a different time, someone dutifully distracted him with some inane question about paperwork until the others could drain the remaining coffee before his arrival.
(Whether he knew the reason or not, the most unproductive days at the BAU were undoubtedly his days off. He seemed to know it subconsciously—maybe that was the reason he was so loathe to take a vacation, no matter how well-deserved. They either took too long outsourcing caffeinated beverages or they spent the day agitated and grumpy.)
When they were out on a case, he usually got to the precinct early enough each day to brew the first pot. But the true luxury only happened in smaller towns (or crowded hotels) where they had to double up and share rooms. Of course there were drawbacks to bunking with Hotch: he really was a painfully early riser, and while he remained as respectfully quiet as possible in the mornings, there was an inevitable twinge of embarrassment when the temporary roommate woke to a completely empty room and a bed so neat that it might not have even been slept in.
The team would still silently bicker amongst themselves, however, to decide who would be the lucky one to wake up to the freshly brewed pot waiting for them.
if you have headcanons about jack growing up and how his relationship with hotch ends up i would love to hear it
i think a significant aspect of jack’s transition to adulthood is the process of unraveling his father’s trauma. alkjsdh it’s unfortunate to be stifled by a burden that shouldn’t be his own, but so much about hotch is related to wounds inflicted over the years that he never cared to fully heal. as much as he hates it, it’s inevitable that at least some of it would affect his son. he may be reluctant to address any of it, much less reveal it to his son, but i like to think hotch is a caring enough father to battle his inner demons for jack’s sake. adolescence is difficult enough—hotch’s refusal to recover would drastically impact his son’s life for the worse
for most of the show jack idolized his dad a ridiculous amount akshjdlgakj like it was definitely some media magic how much that boy loved his dad. it was for the sake of keeping hotch on the show—it’s more acceptable for hotch to traipse around catching killers if his son is ok with him being gone all the time (they do a similar thing with matt and his family). and fine, whatever, i’m alright w that. its a clean and easy way to sweep that load of potential problems under the rug. but thats what makes it so much worse when jack Does start to have issues. its heartbreaking that the last time we see hotch and jack, theyre not really on speaking terms
its not like hotch didnt see this coming. as much as id like to see him drowning in misery ashdgljad he’s more practical than self deprecating. he knows what to expect as a child develops, he knows the adoring way his son looks at him will take a sharp turn eventually. at some point all kids realize that their parents arent gods, arent heroes, arent perfect, and that they make mistakes. and they start to resent them. and hotch knows more than anyone that jack has so much to resent him for
witness protection will bring up a lot of painful memories for both of them—maybe ones jack had forgotten about since he was so young. but repeating the same pattern, having his life ripped away and relying on a parent for any sense of stability, has got to be triggering for him. he’s gotta be overwhelmed with conflicting emotions: anger at hotch’s past failures, fear of his remaining parent being taken the same way his mom was. while it sucks for jack aksjhdglj that fear would stop him from cutting hotch off completely, no matter how much jack blames him for
he’s around 10 when we see him last, so he’s hitting his teenage angst a little early, but i think it’s fitting that he gets it out of the way. the very real very present danger will force them to confront issues both of them might otherwise suppress. they only have each other to rely on so they have to clear the air eventually. but i think there’s a lot of stumbling along the way: the sharp venom of vindictiveness has to hit its target a few times before jack’s satisfied, even if he knows it’s unfair. he’s just a kid. forced to mature faster than others, but he can still be petty. he needs to make hotch hurt because he’s young and feels betrayed by his own foolish admiration of a foolish man just as capable of mistakes as anyone
hotch understands. he blames himself just as much if not more for haley’s death. but i think hotch’s acceptance of jack’s anger would only make things worse. he’d react the way haley would (which is extra fun for hotch kajhlfdjg). he’ll be upset that hotch wont defend himself, that hotch won’t deny anything or fight back. that’s because jack, privy to a world broader than he once realized, needs to process the shock of losing veneration for his father before he can come to terms with any sort of sympathetic reasoning of events. he lived his childhood from the rose tinted perspective of absolute trust: he has to see things in black and white before accepting that there are colors beyond that
again, hotch knows all this. he knows it will be a while before jack’s willing to accept any explanation—and that’s if hotch is even willing to provide one. jack may not get the full picture, but hotch might feel like sharing his side of the story would just be hiding behind excuses. i imagine if he ever did, it wouldn’t be planned or thought out at all. likely it’s just jack asking questions during a fragile moment and hotch cant bring himself to deny his son anything
with a direct confrontation, hotch decides it's time to be honest with his son. he wishes he had more time to prepare; jack may be ready but HE’S certainly not ready for this conversation yet, even if he knew it was coming. but he has to think of jack first, the way he’s always tried to. and this is what jack needs now. not excuses or defenses, just honest explanation: a confession of all his weaknesses and failings. the insecurities and doubts. he doesnt want to overwhelm the kid, but jack deserves an explanation of the truth of it all. he talks about what his job meant for him and why he was so devoted to it. he talks about foyet and how it was the fault of a man, not a monster, but including the choices hotch made to get them to that point and why he’s still guilty for it. he talks about the healthy and unhealthy ways to cope with loss and grief and negativity. how you’re not supposed to let it take over your life or liet it control you. how it’s a lesson hotch hasn’t quite learn himself. but how he doesn’t want jack to end up like him. how he wants jack to be better, how he wants the world for him, how everything he does is for his sake, even if he makes mistakes along the way. how hotch isnt a hero, he’s just a man. and man isnt perfect.
i imagine he’s around 12-14 when they have this conversation? jack’s already had to deal with so much and hotch doesnt want him growing up with all those questions burning up inside. he knows jack’s young so he simplifies it a little and leaves out some of the darker stuff (like the extent of his injuries during foyet’s attack and the role hotch’s own childhood plays in all this). but jack doesnt want to be treated like a child anymore. hotch is aware that transparency is what will save their relationship.
things go a little smoother after that. jack will still have his teenage mood swings, he’ll snap at his dad, making some hateful but misdirected comments. but he’ll be more understanding. he’ll say sorry faster, knowing a little more about how his words may affect his father.
hotch of course worries that he’s said too much too soon. he doesn’t want to overburden him with all of his fucking baggage. but it’s kind of an inescapable part of being a parent. their circumstances just happened to call for it earlier than it shouldve been. but it helps hotch too. bc now that he’s explained the problems that he has and the things he’s continuing to work through, he feels more obligated to actually work on himself and show that progress can be made. he wants to set a good example.
i dont think it's until much later that hotch talks about his own experiences growing up. it's not a part of his life he ever planned on sharing—not with anyone, much less his son. but jack is 17-19 and just as quick as his father. he can put the pieces together and has some idea of what happened, vague as it may be. hotch is more subtle than some of the others about the impact his childhood has left on him, but jack has grown up needing to read between the lines to truly understand his father’s feelings: jack can read hotch better than most others because he’s grown up with him. he’s more comfortable being open with his dad now, he’s more willing to ask difficult questions. their relationship is strong and he’s sure it’ll take whatever this conversation leaves them with. they’ll make it. so jack sits with his dad at the table and asks his questions. hotch has barely talked about this with anyone before and he doesnt want to frighten his child with it, even if he’s more of an adult now than hotch is willing to admit. but jack is firm and determined. he thinks he can kelp his father somehow (and god. that just kills hotch. to think that his son is so worried for him. loving and kind, but still naive). taking deep breaths and willing himself not to break down, he begins to answer
found a prompt list for october which i found out was actually made for a specific fandom but whatever so we’ll see if i can actually follow through on a commitment for once. the plan was to keep these anywhere from 500-1000 words but this one already broke 2k so we’re off to a great start -_-
Jack was brimming with excitement, practically hovering over his seat. With all the willpower a five-year-old could muster, he scarfed down his breakfast with slightly less urgency than a starved man. The knock on the door nearly sent him flying. He turned to look over the top of the chair as he watched his father unlock the door.
“Aunt Jess!” He launched himself out of his chair. “Is it time? Is it time? Is it time?”
Jess looked to Hotch, who struggled to hide his smile. “Let me clean up breakfast, then we can go.”
Jess knelt to Jack’s height. “See! Almost time. Why don’t you go brush your teeth while I help your dad wash up?”
Jack ran full speed to the bathroom, hitting the wall with a potentially alarming bang before disappearing down the hall. “A full two minutes!” Hotch called after him before waving Jess off. “I’ve got this, just make yourself comfortable and we’ll get going soon.”
Jess meandered slowly around the living room, probably checking to make sure the apartment was taken care of. Hotch could see her linger by a framed picture of Haley and Jack sporting identical smiles as they beamed at the camera. He grimaced internally: he still wasn’t sure if this was the best idea.
Apple picking was a Brooke’s family tradition: taking a day to enjoy the season by taking advantage of a local orchard and hauling back bagfuls of more apples than they could possibly need. Hotch was 17 the first time Haley dragged him along. It was the first time he felt like part of a functional, loving family. They took him in for the day and he got to join in the festivities.
In order to avoid uneaten apples rotting away, they used most of them for pies. (Not even good ones. Hotch loved them all but absolutely no one knew how to bake in that house, and the somehow overdone and dough-ey concoctions were practically inedible. He wasn’t sure how they managed to fuck up every pie so badly. He was almost impressed.) Instead of mounds of uneaten apples, they had a half dozen uneaten pies left over. Eventually, once they got married, it was just Hotch and Haley picking apples and making pies, with Jack soon to join. (Pie quality vastly improved with Hotch’s assistance.)
The year of their separation was the first time Hotch hadn’t gone to the orchard in more than 20 years. Instead he nursed a drink while sitting on the floor behind the couch, falling deeper into the void of unbearable loneliness than he thought possible. He’d never felt more pathetic in his life as he hauled himself to bed at a miserable 7pm, leaving a stack of untouched paperwork for tomorrow’s (likely hungover) Hotch to deal with.
That was his first year without Haley, but this was his first year without Haley. He felt an obligation to maintain some sense of normalcy for Jack’s sake but he found it hard to partake in such a treasured tradition without the person that introduced it into his life in the first place. Nevertheless, the desire to pass something of Haley’s onto Jack outweighed the guilt he had in doing this without her.
Jack was blissfully unaware of his father’s turmoil. His memory of previous orchard visits were hazy at best, but the promise of baked goods was enough to get him riled up. Hotch had invited Jess, hoping she’d be willing to take part in a tradition potentially marred by Haley’s absence, but Jess had seemed enthusiastic. It comforted Hotch somewhat, but he was still uncertain.
Donning coats that were inevitably going to be discarded once the sun was in full blast, they headed for the orchard. Hotch’s fingers thrummed anxiously on the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at Jack in the rearview mirror. Jess peeled her gaze from the window and glanced between the two Hotchner boys: one giddy, one uneasy, both sizzling with anticipation.
“Hey,” Jess whispered to Hotch under Jack singing along to the radio. “Just breathe. It’ll be fun.”
Hotch wished her smile was convincing.
~
The team had already reserved an area, laying claim to their corner of the orchard with a picnic blanket, courtesy of Penelope, and Derek’s speakers.
“Hey, boss man, you finally made it,” Derek grinned. JJ used baby Henry’s arm to wave at their trusted leader as Will clapped his shoulder in greeting. Emily, Penelope, and Spencer had already started—both the apple picking and an argument. Hotch tilted his chin in a questioning gesture to the rambunctious trio, but Derek just rolled his eyes without dampening his smile.
Jack was enchanted by the sea of apple trees and wasted no time grabbing his father’s hand and dragging him to the nearest tree. With a quick wave to the others, Hotch followed his son and dutifully held a bag as Jack stretched to harvest from the highest branches he could reach. Shifting the bag to one arm, he knelt and raised Jack on his arm, giving him access to a new stratosphere.
It had been a spur of the moment decision to invite the rest of the team. Hotch had mentioned the plans in passing and JJ perked up, chiming in that she’d wanted to do something similar with Henry, even if he was a little young. With mention of Henry, Penelope and Spencer joined the conversation and soon the whole BAU invited themselves to a day at the orchard. It was all a little overwhelming: it happened so fast that Hotch had no time to refuse, before he’d even had a chance to consider if he should refuse.
He called to update Jess with the abrupt additions, hoping she wouldn’t mind the intrusion and mentally preparing himself to face Penelope’s teary pout when he insisted the others stay behind, but Jess had simply laughed and said something about “the more the merrier,” thus sealing his fate. He was a little relieved he didn’t have to break any bad news, but the prospect of babysitting the BAU along with Jack and Jess was more than a little daunting.
He knew he was going to be exhausted.
~
Hotch found himself relieved of Jack-duty when Derek and Emily humbly asked Jack to help them fill their bags. Jack lept at the opportunity to pick more apples and waved at Hotch almost as an afterthought as he followed the two lazy kidnappers. Suddenly childless, Hotch settled on the blanket and sighed deeply, taking in the crisp autumn air and appreciating a moment of quiet.
His mind drifted to the last time he’d been to the orchard. Jack had been wide-eyed and curious, and Haley’s radiant smile rivaled the sun. It was one of the few memories he had of the three of them happy together.
There’s no way Jack remembered. Hotch wondered if Jack had any memory of apple picking the year before with just his mother, but he didn’t want to probe too deeply into any potentially painful subjects. Not that they hadn’t talked about Haley, but Hotch didn’t want to sour the day by reminding the kid of his dead mother.
They’d settled into a routine: wake up, eat breakfast, drive to school, have Jack picked up by Jess while Hotch was at work, return for dinner, help with homework, help with whatever lego set or puzzle Jack was currently working on, get ready for bed, storytime, and goodnight. It was simple and monotonous, and Hotch loved every minute he got to spend with his son.
It had been too long since Hotch was able to see Jack on a consistent basis. Seeing him every day was a blessing, but he wondered if there would ever come a day where he looked at his son without a cold grip of guilt tug his stomach. Jack was his greatest joy, but a constant reminder of his greatest failure. It hadn’t even been a year, so it’s not like Hotch expected to feel normal, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself enough to fully immerse himself in a life with his son. It probably wasn’t fair to Jack, but it didn’t feel fair to Haley either.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lost in thought when his reminiscing was interrupted by a thumping sound and an indignant “Hey!!”
Hotch looked up to see that the generally peaceful activity had devolved into his esteemed agents hurling apple cores at each other in whatever concocted game not everyone was apparently privy to. Emily wiped the lingering apple moisture off her jacket with a few half-hearted swipes and wasted no time retaliating, much to the delight and horror of Jack and Derek. Penelope appeared to be another guilty party, slicing bits of apple to supply as ammunition. Hotch wasn’t sure what the premise or goal of the game was, but the deviants throwing chunks of apple through the air clearly understood the significance.
“You’re making a mess,” he said without any real annoyance.
Derek threw the next half-eaten apple without acknowledging the unit chief’s interjection. Emily at least turned to stick her tongue out at him, and Penelope clapped her hands together in an apologetic motion, “We’ll pick up! Promise!” before breaking off another piece that landed in Spencer’s hair.
Hotch shook his head—though he’d be hard pressed to decide whether it was more weary or fond. At least Jack seemed to be having a good time, if his delighted shrieks were anything to go by. Derek, gripping the small boy under his arms, was using him as a shield against incoming fire. Spencer had fully retreated behind JJ, apparently hoping the baby Henry in her arms would be enough of a deterrent to avoid being targeted. Hotch was sure the young genius was underestimating her competitiveness, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.
Was this alright? To enjoy himself like this? Guilt twisted his stomach. It felt wrong without Haley.
“You can’t make yourself miserable forever. Haley wouldn’t want that,” Jess assured, sensing his discomfort. She turned watch the others with a smile. “You have a good family here. They all love you. It would be ungrateful to reject their feelings.”
Hotch blinked at that. He wanted to speak up, to deny that they considered him as anything other than their unit chief. But as JJ handed Henry off to Will so she could tackle Spencer and hold him down while Derek and Emily came pelting the pinned target, Hotch had to question whether that was true. Would they be here now if they didn’t care for him?
He thought of how they’d supported him the past year: Derek carrying the burden of responsibility as unit chief so he could focus on Foyet, Penelope bringing tupperwares of food to make sure he ate, Spencer digging into Foyet’s files over and over again despite his eidetic memory just in case he had missed something or could find any new connections, JJ missing time with her own family to stay late with him at the office so he wouldn’t be completely alone, Emily escorting him home at night so he wouldn’t have to enter his apartment by himself. Their time, their efforts… it was proof enough of their love.
Hotch finally had to admit to himself that it was never them he doubted. It was his own worth: he didn’t deserve their kindness. He couldn’t comfort Derek after Buford, he took Penelope for granted, he couldn’t help Spencer in Hankle’s aftermath, he had nothing but hypocritical advice to give to JJ when she was troubled, he pushed Emily away even as she stood vigil over him.
He had been harsh and abrasive this whole year. He took out his struggles on them and they stayed by his side anyway. Bully that he was, they suffered silently alongside him.
“It’s selfish to make yourself miserable,” Jess interrupted his usual spiral of self-flagellation. “You’re letting the past keep you the people around you. If you spend too much time mourning the life you lost, you’ll miss out on the life you have now.” Jess looked out at the rancorous group, her eyes distant and glazed.
Hotch forced himself to remain impassive, though that twisting in his gut was back again. He hadn’t been the only one to lose someone important that day.
“Thank you for coming today. It meant a lot to Jack.” He hesitated half a second, barely noticeable, wondering if his appreciation would upset her. “To me.”
She turned her head at that, eyes perceptive as ever. He tried not to flinch under her gaze. “I said it before: you’re my family, too.”
It must’ve seemed so pointless to Jess, all the Foyet business. It was a wonder she wasn’t more angry. He wasn’t sure how to thank her for her kindness, for her understanding.
“I’m sorry.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
“If you say that one more time, I’m gonna smack you upside the head,” she warned, but there was no heat in her voice. Hotch’s lips twitched into a smile—his heart lighter than it had been a few minutes ago.
They spent a little longer basking in serenity before a very pointed command disguised as a question shook the fog from his mind. “Who’s ready for pie?” Emily asked as a extremely unsubtle hint that she was ready to get to Hotch’s apartment and get him baking. (The childless/godchildless ones had been lured to join by the guarantee of pies, despite the fact that Hotch had made no such promise.) Mutters of agreement rippled through the rest before quickly distracting themselves with the much-disputed delegation of clean-up duty.
Hotch leaned back, a whisper of a smile ghosting his lips. He closed his eyes in a rare moment of indulgence: the sun warmed his bones despite autumn’s chill, but his heart was warmed by the echoing laughter of the people he cherished most. His family. He constantly felt unworthy of the loyalty and love he was awarded daily, but with the jubilant ridiculousness around him, he allowed himself to let the radiance wash over him. He was still unworthy, he was still indebted, but hope for a future unburdened by pain was easier to foster surrounded by so many people precious to him.
Just this once, he thought, let me have this moment.
i think the friction between emily and the rest of the team when she first joins is why she becomes such an essential member in season three and i think thats part of what makes her so so interesting. the team had been established in season one. elle slipped in so easily and we didn’t get to see how she changed the dynamic since she joined the first episode. it’s not just that they didn’t know emily in season two: it’s that they hated her.
“hate” is maybe a little strong, but they were definitely wary of her early on. she was an easy target to lay into when they’re having a bad day. they were quick to take their frustrations out on her and she just had to accept it. she took it in stride, willing to take the brunt of their anger partly because everyone was struggling in one way or another this season and partly because she was dedicated to being part of the team.
we don’t know a lot about her experiences at interpol, but we know it was brutal, emotionally grueling, and even more dangerous than her job at the fbi. the bau is a relaxing change of pace compared to what she left, and we know it’s something she specifically wanted. she knew what she wanted to do—how she wanted to use her skills—and picked a less stressful yet still exciting job as a profiler. she wanted this position. she fought for it. she’s not about to back down anytime soon.
she’d worked for so long and put him with so much of their bullshit before finally beginning to feel like she had a place on the team. but when strauss put the pressure on to help her take down hotch, she quit. just like that. even after all the shit she’d gone through to establish her place, she gave it all up so she didn’t have to be part of hotch’s downfall.
a lot of it obviously stems from her strict aversion to politics. from what we know of ambassador prentiss, we can guess it probably wasn’t easy for emily to break away from that world and live her own life. she chose this work because she didn’t want to have to worry about the deceitful political game. (which is interesting that she chose to work undercover and utilized the same skills she would have as a politician: lies, manipulation, constantly needed to watch your back, never being able to trust someone 100% but that’s a different topic entirely. not to mention how she did have to spent this first year trying to establish trust while lying through her smile to keep the secrets of her past hidden) the bau she’d hoped would be a place she could just catch killers and move on to the next without dealing with the messiness of constantly working to push someone’s agenda. for the first time, she could just be… emily.
but what really highlights the dramatic shift in the group is her confidence in hotch as a leader. even if she’d wanted to play strauss’s game to remain in the bau, she firmly believes the team would suffer more without hotch. he’s been abrasive and hostile since day one. sure he’s mellowed throughout the season, but he never gave her a reason to think he wanted her there. and she respects his abilities and the care he has for the team anyway, even if she never thought he considered her a part of it. she’s given up on being accepted and was ready to wipe the slate clean and start again.
which is why the conversation at her apartment is so so important. this is the first time that he’s expressed what a significant part of the team she’s become. honestly it may not have been until she gave him her badge and gun that he realized it himself. it was hotch—stoic leader, ultimately caring but still distant, rarely verbalizing his true emotions—directly telling her that he wanted her to come back. they all wanted her to come back. because even when they hit bumps in the road, dealt with struggles, and coped with losses, they still had each other. and that was always enough to pick them back up again.
the dynamic between hotch and emily still unique and distinct from the rest of the team. each member so far has been nurtured and reinforced by hotch as they developed into the profilers they are now. even morgan, who’s been with him the longest. but it had always been in a subordinate position. emily was already an experienced profiler in her own right when she joined the team, and their initial conflicts set them against each other. but what truly distinguished her from the rest was her
she had the opportunity to further her career and pursue her ambitions, but she threw it all away to protect him. to protect the team. something that hotch had been accustomed to defending all on his own. it would’ve been so easy to betray him—and he honestly might not’ve have blamed her for it. he’d been cold and distant, but she showed him unwavering loyalty despite that, even if it meant ending her career. his recognition of the lengths she would go to to defend them was what won him over completely, solidifying the bonds of the team. of which she was an integral member.
this momentous expression of trust, loyalty, and dedication despite everything that happened between them cemented their relationship, not necessarily as leader and subordinate, but as equals. the foundation of their relationship was based on mutual respect and their unshakable devotion to the team as a whole: they were well aware of the lengths the other would go to. the burden of supporting the entire team was lessened now that she was here and able to be another solid pillar for the others to depend on. and, perhaps for the first time, they each found someone they could trust completely.
@arsonhotchner has been begging me to post the fast food headcanons we were talking about.. since they finally got around to making the dessert post with significantly less explanation mind you!! i guess it’s only fair to write this up asjhlgfdjk
one thing that im almost genuinely upset we didn’t get to see is more scenes of the team eating together. they’re gone for days at a time, most of which is spent working on a gruesome case, with breaks few and far between. they’ve gotta eat at some point, and its just efficient if they all eat together
we see them order takeout sometimes so they can eat at the precinct, and they occasionally go out to restaurants (they stop doing that on cases tho when they always end up getting pulled away). but what about when a case is over and it’s 3am and everywhere’s closed and they havent eaten in days and they just want to get a bite to eat and fucking relax? they either want a place where they can crash for a while and decompress while they unwind from whatever shitty thing happened that day or somewhere they can pick something up to bring back to the hotel. sometimes they just grab some fast food since it’s readily available and easy enough to get. but different people like different things, and they each have their favorites
emily likes mcdonalds. not necessarily for the food itself, but for the consistency. and she has fond memories of hanging out at mcdonalds in other countries she’s lived in, so there’s also a nostalgia factor. it’s kind of exciting to see the different menus. she knows it’s not the best so she’s rarely adamant about going, but it’s a chain that’s basically everywhere, so they inevitably end up going occasionally. it’s no one else’s favorite, but no one’s strongly against it either. a pretty neutral choice!
morgan likes five guys. he likes the sesame buns, he thinks the fries are good, and he loves snacking on peanuts while they wait. the group is pleased with this decision and they go as frequently as they can—even though it’s not always available.
jj likes cici’s pizza bc she’s insane. it’s mostly nostalgia—after games her soccer coach would take the team there for the buffet. the euphoria of eating a shitton of food after working to the bone assuaged any reservations they had of the taste/quality. it didnt matter how gross it was, to them it was delicious. but it does mean that jj rarely gets to pick where they go eat. she cant be trusted
morgan likes popeyes. jj likes kfc. it’s a point of contention between the two and at some point they look to the team to settle the debate. with some sighs and grumbled apologies, everyone unanimously sides with morgan. it’s a popular option and they go often, and morgan will always have a smug look on his face when they pull up to the parking lot.
rossi likes wendys. it catches them off guard and they don’t quite understand it, but rossi says he admires the moxy of a fast food chain that puts baked potatoes on the menu. and he likes the square patties. no one’s upset about it though—the food’s not bad and they like the cheese fries. hotch likes their frosties, so wendys becomes part of the regular rotation.
hotch likes whataburger. dairy queen used to be his favorite when he was a kid, but at some point he decided the blizzards weren’t worth the shitty food. he doesn’t always eat when they go out, but he’ll get at least get a milkshake if the place has them, and whataburger shakes are his favorite. the group likes it, and they like to indulge hotch when he lets them. usually someone else will suggest it so he won’t feel bad for taking a turn at picking
jack likes pizza hutt. the stuffed crust is quite alluring to a six year old. every day hotch prays that his son will get some fucking taste and ask for dominos instead. one day hotch just makes the executive decision to get dominos. the cinnamon twists win jack over
reid likes chipotle. this comes as a shock to everyone. he rattles off about the quality and the health benefits etc etc but still nobody understands why. they don’t stop staring as he eats his little salad bowl.
penelope doesn’t get to eat with them as often since she doesn’t travel with them, and when she does it’s usually homecooked at someone’s house or at a restaurant. her favorite is sonic. not for the food, but for the drinks—plus she thinks there’s something classy about pulling up to a drive-in with her convertible. sometimes she’ll pick up drinks for everyone when she knows they’ve had a rough day. other times, she’ll be working late at the office and it’s getting late (or early) and hotch is the only one left. she’ll drag him out and insist on driving them home, but they’ll stop by sonic on the way to get some drinks and maybe some tater tots or something if he’s up for it.
alex likes panera bread. she’ll go pick up coffee and pastries in the mornings sometimes, but every once and a while they’ll go as a group to eat lunch or something. it’s inoffensive and they’re able to bring back a little snack for later, but it’s not as traditionally “fast” for fast food, so it’s mostly a morning stop.
tara likes panda express. the others tease her a little for it, but she says there’s something comforting about shitty americanized chinese food. they’ll go every once and a while if they’re ever tired of burgers or smth.
walker likes subway. he likes picking out the ingredients in his little sandwiches and he says there’s something about the system of the line up that’s oddly comforting. they’ll go for lunches sometimes, but they don’t go often. not necessarily because of the food, but because usually everyone’s too tired to have to make decisions/talk to someone through the whole process.
luke likes in and out bc he has taste. it becomes a quick favorite for the others and it becomes a frequent stop.
sometimes they’ll eat at the restaurant. they’ll squeeze in a booth or drag some tables together and camp out for a while. it’s usually when it’s late and they all know they’re not getting any sleep that night. sometimes it’s quiet and they sit in silence mulling over whatever case they were working on. its enough to just.. be in the presence of others who understand what they’re going through. there’s no need to explain--they all get it. other times it’s easier to distract each other and it’ll be much more lively: joking around, goofing off, prying into personal lives, kicking under the table, etc. it’s a way to take their mind off things, and laughter over a meal with people you love can be so healing.
sometimes they’ll pick something up and bring it back to the hotel. this tends to be a little more chaotic.. one suv heads to the hotel while the other gets the food, and the accuracy of the order greatly depends on who’s in the car. hotch and reid are the most reliable at remembering what everyone wants, but they’re the least likely to speak up at a drive thru; jj tries but sometimes she’ll forget someone entirely; emily and morgan are liable to change your order if they think its gross or they just want to mess w you. either way its pretty much a gamble.
they’ll usually eat together in someone’s room. it’s a pretty big sacrifice since the smell of fast food is never getting out of there, and it’s not something any of them wanna volunteer for. more often than not it ends up being reid’s room: his protests are easier to ignore. they’ll gather on the bed or the desk or the floor--wherever there’s room. this is the setting where they tend to be more casual. they try to keep their mind off work and talk about other things, but sometimes it’s easier to brainstorm when they’re not at some police precinct. one by one they’ll trickle back to their rooms feeling more settled than they normally would be. family meals are nice like that
one of the great tragedies of hotch’s character is that all his strengths are all his weaknesses. there can always be too much of a good thing and hotch isnt one to do anything by halves. even if he ever got the point where he wants to try to make an effort to be a healthier man, to live a happier life, he’d struggle to justify overcoming his flaws when they’re so intertwined with his virtues
he’s selfless and he cares deeply for others, always putting them first. but only because he’s so used to putting himself last. he does the absolute most to protect the ones he loves and blames his own deficiencies when it proves insufficient. his overzealous sense of responsibility keeps him moving, keeps him from giving up, but he its hard to let himself take a break. it’s difficult, uncharacteristic, to not take everything to heart. carrying his own sins as well as the burdens of others. he knows he can take it. and he doesnt think anyone else deserves it.
he’s dedicated to his job. he’s been pushing himself for years with an admirable but rigorous work ethic as he’s climbed his way from being a successful lawyer to an even more successful fbi agent. but only because he’s afraid to stop. if he stops trying to put good into the world, if he stops trying to help others, then his life on its own doesnt have enough merit to justify living. if he’s not constantly working, then he’s just not good enough. there’s not a problem in the world he won’t try his damndest to fix and there’s no end to the guilt he inflicts on himself until he reaches his goal.
he’s gentle. he’s oh so gentle for someone in a job that encourages aggression and ferocity. while he doesn’t shy away of asserting his authority when he needs to, its not something he throws around for the sake of it. he’s softspoken almost. for the most part only speaking in a low, mild tone. he’s got a white knuckled grip on his temper, careful not to let anger get the best of him. he may get overwhelmed by other emotions sometimes: grief, regret, self pity; but never anger. he’s terrified to think of who he might be if he ever succumbed to that. considering how much guilt he harbors when someone he cares about is hurt, i cant even imagine what he would feel if he was the one who actually did the hurting—even accidentally.
he’s taken everything he hates most about himself and everything he fears of becoming and twists that around to be the exact opposite. he has values and so so much care for others. but it’s not enough unless he sacrifices himself in some way. it’s hard to say he’s wrong for these things, but he’s just chipping away at an already broken man. i dont think he’d ever let himself stop until there’s nothing left
