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Getting the Last Word

Aaron Hotchner x reader

summary: Years after your sister’s departure from the team, you make it to the BAU. Being Elle Greenaway’s younger half-sister wasn’t easy, but you aren’t joining the team to make things easy. Least of all for Aaron Hotchner. word count: 12.4K warnings: enemies to lovers, typical cm violence/death, gun violence, blood, age gap, young!reader, bau!reader aaron hotchner masterlist

-

Monday mornings at the BAU were a mixed bag. Some of them were spent already states away on a case. Some were traveling to solve a new horror. Some weekends they actually managed to enjoy their lives, not stepping through those doors until nine in the morning. This was one of those Mondays.

Morgan holds open the door for Garcia, her laughter carrying through into the bullpen as she teeters in on her heels. Emily drops a file onto Reid’s desk, directly onto the open one he had been looking at.

“You’ve been staring at that page for ten minutes.”

He looks up at her, “I was reading it.”

“Yeah, right.” she rolls her eyes.

Reid hides another yawn and Rossi emerges from his office with a mug that smelled unmistakingly like expensive Italian coffee. Hotch is waiting outside the conference room with an open file in hand.

“The children are unusually energetic this morning.” Rossi looks out over the team settling in for the day just below.

Before Hotch could answer, Strauss steps off the elevator. She pushes through the glass doors and the bullpen quieted almost immediately. She wasn’t carrying a case file, instead she had a dark blue personnel folder. Hotch noticed it first, he has dozens sitting on the corner of his desk.

“Chief Strauss”

“Agent Hotchner.” She offers the room a polite nod, “If everyone could meet in the conference room.”

She leads the way and Morgan instantly looks over at Emily with wide eyes.

“That sounds ominous.” He shakes his head.

“Yeah, which one of us is getting fired?” Emily mumbles quietly.

Garcia whispers dramatically, “Are we being audited?”

“No.” Reid answers without looking up, “Chief Strauss isn’t in charge of internal audits.”

Within minutes, the team is gathered around the conference table. Strauss remains standing and Hotch takes his typical spot at the head of the table.

“So,” He keeps his voice even, “What happened?”

She sets the folder down on the table, “As of today, the BAU will be expanding.”

Emily perks up, “We’re getting another profiler?”

“The Director approved an additional position several months ago.” Strauss reminds, cutting her stare over at Aaron.

She opens the folder, “Seeing as your Unit Chief did not appoint any of the applicants he was provided, the Director asked me to step in. The position has now been filled.”

“Special Agent Y/n” She pauses long enough to look around the room, “Greenaway.”

Silence. Complete silence.

JJ looks from Strauss to Hotch, “Greenaway?”

Morgan blinks and Garcia’s nervous smile disappears.

“Hold on-” Derek holds up a finger.

“No way.”

Emily looks equally confused, “Greenaway as in….?”

Reid speaks before anyone else can.

“Elle’s younger sister.”

Every head turns toward him.

“Half-sister.” Hotch corrects.

The room looks at him, he focuses on the file sitting open on the table.

“Elle requested a weekend off to go to her graduation.” Aaron dazes, still reeling over the idea of you joining the team. It was too late now. If he had just picked someone from the stack, he would have had a say in this.

“You remember one conversation from six years ago?” Morgan raises a brow.

“Seven.” Reid corrects.

“She wasn’t with the bureau back then.” Aaron sets his frown into a firm line. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“She wasn’t,” Strauss picks back up, “At the time Agent Greenaway served this unit, she had not yet entered Quantico.”

Emily nods slowly, “So, this isn’t someone trying to ride her sister’s reputation in here?”

“Quite the opposite, she is impressive all on her own.”

She passes out the sheet inside, all crediting your history with the bureau and your education.

“She graduated at the top of her class.”

Reid looks surprised. Morgan looks impressed. Aaron looks more stressed.

“She spent three years in violent crimes where she led several interstate investigations and more recently the past two she was recruited into Behavioral Analysis Support.”

Rossi leans forward, “Behavioral analysis?”

Strauss nods, “Her supervisors describe her as exceptionally disciplined, highly analytical, and one of the strongest interviewers currently with the Bureau.”

Emily lets out a low whistle, “Not bad.”

“Her clearance evaluations, shooting qualifications, and psychological reviews are all exemplary.”

Aaron raises a curious brow, “So, why leave?”

Strauss stares him down without hesitation, “She requested the transfer.”

“To the BAU?”

“Specifically.”

That caught Hotch’s attention.

He sets down the sheet back on the table, “And you’re approving her transfer without consulting me?”

“I am.” She nods.

“I assume there is a reason.” There has to be. The Director and Strauss had been reminding him to hire someone for months, why go around him now? They hadn’t brought it up in weeks. This is clearly why. Their plan was already in motion and he fell right into it.

“There is.” She folds her hands, “Regardless of anyone’s personal feelings, Agent Elle Greenaway’s departure from this unit remains one of the more public personnel failures associated with this team.”

No one speaks. Garcia looks down at her hands in her lap.

“From an administrative standpoint denying another exceptionally qualified Agent Greenaway a position she has clearly earned would create questions the Bureau has no interest in answering.”

Rossi understands immediately, “The optics.”

“Precisely.”

Strauss looks back at Hotch.

“I’ve already signed the transfer.”

Long silence settles over the room.

Eventually Hotch gives a single nod, “Then she’s a part of the team.”

Before anyone could say another word, there was a knock at the conference room door. Every pair of eyes turned toward it.

“Right on time.” Strauss checks her watch and steps over to the door. She pulls the handle to let you in, letting you face your new team.

For the first time in seven years, a Greenaway was stepping into the room. You weren’t the exact image most of the team had subconsciously expected. There were definitely things that you shared with Elle. The most obvious right now being your walk and the way you carry yourself with confidence.

Your posture is perfect, shoulders back. Your eyes sweep the room once, assessing in a quick and efficient manner.

Strauss steps beside you, “Everyone, this is Special Agent Y/n Greenaway.”

You offer a polite smile, “Good morning.”

The team can tell it wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t entirely cold either.

“Her transfer is effective immediately, her credentials speak for themselves. I expect you’ll extend the same professionalism you’ve shown every member of this team.” Strauss’s gaze lingers on Hotch briefly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She gives one final nod before leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind her. The atmosphere changed quickly, Morgan leans back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. The rooms starts to thaw at the older woman's departure. Your shoulders drop half an inch.

“Well, now we can actually say hello.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, “I was wondering if that was for me or her.”

Garcia jumps up from her chair, “I’m Penelope Garcia!”

She pulls you in for a tight hug and you pat her shoulder a few times, “I know.”

“You do?” She pulls back.

“My sister talked about everyone.” You nod, “She said you could find anyone and their search history.”

Garcia grins, “She was right.”

The rest of the room offers their own introductions accompanied with handshakes. One of them being David Rossi.

“It’s an honor.”

He waves a dismissive hand, “No, that just means I’m old.”

“You’re all over the original case studies.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” He looks to Morgan for help but the smile on his face tells you he’s still secretly proud.

The last person who was still yet to say a word was Hotch. He hadn’t moved a muscle, just observing with a neutral expression. He rises and extends a hand toward you.

“Welcome to the BAU.”

You look at it for a second before accepting. His handshake was steady, but so was yours.

“Unit Chief.”

Not Agent Hotchner. Not Hotch. Just his title.

“You’ve built an impressive career.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Your tone was perfectly even, polite. But there was an edge to it. Enough to make Morgan’s eyes flicker between the two of you. Hotch noticed it too.

“I hope you find this unit a good fit.” Hotch offers, testing the waters.

You hold his gaze, your spine still straight as steel.

“I certainly hope the team has evolved from its past mistakes.”

Silence.

Emily shifts in her chair and Garcia bites her knuckle to fight a squeak of surprise.

Hotch takes a few moments but his voice remains even, “I hope so too.”

“What made you pursue profiling?” Rossi’s question is effective in pulling your focus off of Hotch.

“Elle joined because of our father.” You shrug lightly, “I joined because of her.”

You shift your stance to look back at the rest of the team.

“I grew up with everyone talking about how great my father was, he was a police officer.” The various nods around the room remind you they’ve heard this story before, “I didn’t really know him, I was only two when he died. So what I know mostly came from stories. Elle.”

Everyone listens carefully and you shrug.

“My dad is why I wanted to work in law enforcement, but my sister is why I’m here.”

JJ’s expression softens, “She inspired you.”

“Every day. She hated the phone but would call me after every big arrest. I was in college and still stuck in New York, but I followed every case she worked that made the news.” You admit, “Until she became the news.”

Garcia’s eyes start to glisten.

“I didn’t request to be here because I wanted her desk.” You nod toward the bullpen, “This was the job that made my sister believe she could make a difference.”

You look back at the team.

“I wanted to know what that felt like.” Your expression hardens and the team can only watch as you shift your focus on Hotch, “I also wanted to prove a Greenaway deserved to be here.”

The implication wasn’t subtle but you didn’t mean for it to be. Morgan winces.

Hotch doesn’t flinch, “I never believed it didn’t.”

You tilt your head, “No?”

“No.”

You hold his eyes for another moment, the rest of the room falling to the background as you study each other.

“That’s not the story I grew up with.”

Another beat passes before Hotch says something no one expected.

“Then perhaps joining this team will provide you with another one.”

He’s being diplomatic but you can see the tips of his ears are glowing red. Eventually you let him off the hook with a short nod.

Morgan claps his hands together, eager to change the subject, “So, let’s find you a desk.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you out of the conference room. Garcia follows with the offer of showing where she hides the fun creamer.

The team slowly follows to return to their desks. Only one person carries any real concern for the newest member of the team. Hotch lingers in the conference room for a moment, watching you fit in quickly. JJ throws her head back in a laugh at something you say while unpacking your bag.

It was clear you’re intelligent, confident, and respected. Every bit as qualified as Strauss had promised. However. You look at him like he’s carrying a debt you intend to collect on.

-

Weeks into being a part of the BAU, the team had learned several things about you. You absolutely hate being late. You drink your coffee black. You can spot a lie as easily as you breathe.

More importantly.

You couldn’t agree with Aaron Hotchner about anything.

The first case you worked on brought the team to North Dakota.

“You think he’s organized.” He comments.

“I think he’s methodical.” You correct.

“Same thing.”

“No.” Your brows drop, “Organized offenders maintain systems. Methodical offenders maintain routines.

“You’ve been on this team for a week.” He reminds.

“And I’ve been profiling for years.” You correct.

Morgan coughs into his fist and Emily has to hide a smile behind her coffee.

Hotch manages to keep his expression neutral, “That doesn’t make you right.”

“No,” you smile sweetly, “Being right does that.”

JJ looks down at her file, a quiet chuckle escaping. Rossi doesn’t bother commenting, he just looks back and forth between the two of you like it's a tennis match. Everyone was surprised that Hotch never shut you down. Anyone else who challenged him this aggressively would have received a very Hotch like stare and reminder of the chain of command.

With you however, he engages every time. You gave it just as good as you got it. It had become entertaining for the team because they could see how the two of you pushed each other. You caught inconsistencies that Hotch sometimes overlooked. He saw patterns in your theories that you had never considered.

When the two of you were on the same page, the rest of the team hardly needed to contribute. But when you disagreed the room became a verbal battlefield.

Weeks continued, the rest of the team had found something to bond with you over. All but Hotch. The only member of the team that still received a cold shoulder from you.

The team has spent days trying to wrap up a case in Portland that had gone on longer than anyone had hoped.

“You’re assuming the victimology is intentional.”

“It is.” He doesn’t even bother looking up in your direction.

“You don’t know that.” You sigh.

“I know the unsub chose them.”

“That’s not the same thing.” You shake your head and he finally looks up at you.

He leans back in his chair, his arms stretching above his head. “You’re splitting hairs.”

“I’m profiling.” You roll your eyes.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up. Emily murmurs, “Here we go.”

“What’s your theory?” Hotch finally asks you.

The team raises brows at his bold opening. Rossi wishes he had popcorn for the sparring opportunity Aaron just opened.

“I think he’s choosing people based on opportunity.”

“Then why the consistency”

“Because his opportunity is consistent.” Your finger jabs the file sitting on the conference table in front of you to emphasize your point. You slide a photo across the table, “The locations aren’t centered around the victims. They’re centered around him.”

Reid leans forward and watches you tap the map.

“Oh.”

Hotch studies the map and you watch him. For several seconds neither of you speak.

“You’re right.”

You blink, not sure you heard him properly. Morgan’s eyebrows nearly disappear past his forehead.

Hotch looks back up at you, “He’s commuting.”

You smile. Aaron is sure it’s the first time it’s ever been directed at him.

“Was that so painful?” You ask with a slight head tilt.

“No.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Hotch’s mouth twitches, barely. You catch it and so does everyone else in the room. The case broke two hours later. Nobody had mentioned that you had been right, except for Hotch.

“Good catch.”

He says it quietly as the two of you walk toward the elevator.

“Thank you.” The doors close and you can only bite your tongue for three floors, “That wasn’t so painful, was it?”

He looks over and raises one brow.

“Don’t push it.”

You smile, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

-

The next case of importance came weeks later. Three victims in New Mexico, all women and found within a forty-mile radius. They had all been brutally beaten and found outside Santa Fe. The third was found this morning just north of the city.

There were no obvious connections. No sexual assault, no robbery, and no communication from the offender. Just escalating violence.

The team was already on the jet and working.

“The injuries are the point.” You comment, taking in all of the crime scene photos that reveal the brutality behind the violence.

Hotch looks across the table at you, “Explain.”

“He’s not killing them because he wants them dead.”

Morgan glances over from the couch, “That’s a pretty important distinction, kid.”

“He wants the violence.” You tap the photos, “None of these injuries were immediately fatal.”

Reid nods, “That is correct. This would be considered prolonged assault.”

“Exactly.”

Hotch looks at the pictures again.

“Control.” He looks back up at you to confirm.

You nod, “Total control.”

“Then why leave them alive?” Rossi asks from the seat next to you.

“He doesn’t. He keeps them alive long enough to experience the fear, but eventually he loses control of the assault.”

Emily looks up, “So the homicide is incidental.”

“The killing is the consequence, not the objective.” You lean back.

Hotch studies you openly.

“You’re saying he doesn’t fantasize about the murder.”

You stare right back.

“I’m saying he fantasizes about power.”

He nods slowly, “That fits.”

You look down at your notes.

“There’s something else.”

“Go ahead.”

“He’s getting worse.”

“Escalation?” JJ questions.

“The first victim was beaten. The second was more severe. The third…” You pause, “The third was unrecognizable.”

Rossi frowns, “So he’s losing control.”

You nod.

Hotch immediately picks up on your train of thought, “Which means he’s going to move faster.”

Your eyes meet. Neither of you needed to explain the rest. There was going to be a fourth victim.

-

By the time the jet touched down, you guys had a working profile. Male. Later thirties to early forties. Intelligent enough to avoid leaving obvious forensic evidence but growing increasingly more reckless. Local or at least familiar with northern New Mexico.

The team was settled in the local police department's conference room. JJ stands at the whiteboard while everyone tries to figure out what connects the victims. How is he picking them?

“The first victim was thirty-four, elementary school teacher. The second was twenty-nine and a vet technician. The most recent victim was thirty-eight and a real estate agent.”

Morgan crosses his arms, “Different ages and professions.”

“Different neighborhoods.” Emily comments, “They aren’t even from the same part of town.”

Reid taps the map on the table, “But all three traveled through this area.”

He circles a stretch of road between Albuquerque and Santa Fe.

“At least according to cell tower data.”

Rossi nods, “So that’s our common denominator.”

“Maybe.” You shrug, “All three women were found within ten miles of the highway.”

Emily frowns, “So?”

“So he’s not hunting those neighborhoods, he's hunting along the route.”

Hotch looks at the map. Reid’s red circle highlighting the area of concern.

“Rest stops.” He studies it, “Gas stations, truck stops.”

Reid nods, “Places where people stop while traveling.”

“And places where no one notices someone watching them.” You add.

“Or even following them.” Hotch continues before turning to the rest of the team, “We split up. Local PD has the surveillance footage from two of the locations. Morgan, take Prentiss and Reid to the first location. Rossi and JJ take the second victim.”

JJ nods and you look over at Hotch.

He looks over after feeling your gaze, “We’ll take the third location.”

You glance down at the map, “The gas station with the missing surveillance footage?”

“Exactly.” He stands and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair.

Morgan looks between the two of you, “You two going together?”

He wants to crack some joke, you can see it all over his face.

“Apparently.”

You and Hotch haven’t been alone much in the short couple of months you’ve been a part of the team now. Someone usually gets stuck being a buffer with the two of you.

Morgan falls into step beside you as everyone walks out of the station to the SUVs. Aaron gets in the driver's seat and closes his door harshly.

“Good luck.” Derek warns.

“Concerened?” You smirk. “I can handle him.”

“Trust me,” He chuckles, “That is not what I’m worried about.”

You roll your eyes and give him a mock salute as you back toward the passenger side of the car.

“Just be careful.” He studies you, “You don’t have anything to prove to us.”

You swallow, “I know.”

You really didn’t.

“I know what happened with Elle.” His voice far too soft for anyone else to see, “I’m not letting it happen again.”

You simply nod, not sure you could get anything out after that anyway. You turn back to the car behind you, getting in without a word to Hotch. He pulls out of the parking lot. The two of you have the longest drive, the farthest location from the city’s center.

You sit with the file open in your lap, Hotch continues to drive. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was tense waiting for someone to break it. You decide to eventually after staring at the map long enough to burn it to your retinas.

“Do you think the surveillance footage was deliberately erased?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it was only during the period of abduction that went missing.” His fingers tighten against the wheel. The desert stretches ahead of you, the sun still high in the sky.

“What makes this one different? He wasn’t concerned with the two first victims.”

“Maybe he’s connected to this location more so than the others.” He glances over at you, you can’t see his eyes due to the dark sunglasses blocking them.

“Maybe he works there.” You send a quick text, “I’ll have Garcia check employee records.”

He doesn’t answer and you study him after putting your phone away.

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m driving.” He replies.

“FBI agent who can’t talk and drive?”

He’s still wearing the sunglasses but you can feel the glare when he looks over this time.

“Occupational hazard.” He finally answers, looking back at the road. After a few more seconds he speaks up again, “You’re quieter too.”

You look out the window, “Occupational hazard.”

He almost smiles but tries to hide it when you look over.

“Don’t.”

“What?” He questions.

“That.”

“What?”

“That-” You gesture with your hands, “almost smile thing.”

His brows furrow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do it when you think you’re being funny.” You roll your eyes.

“I’m rarely funny.”

“Exactly.” You bite.

Unexpectedly for both of you in the car, Hotch laughs. It was quiet, but it was there and it was unmistakable. A real laugh and you look at him and forget what you were going to say.

“What?”

You look back at the road, “Nothing.”

The gas station sat outside of city limits, but it was small and busy right off of the highway. The kind of place that had people coming and going all the time without anyone remembering a face. The manager inside met the two of you with an exhausted expression that told you that he had already answered questions to officers previously.

At the end of the conversation, the manager leads the two of you back to the security room. Room was an exaggeration, it was a closet with monitors inside and exactly eight square feet. It was at least ten degrees warmer in there than the rest of the store.

“Someone disabled the camera manually.”

You look over at Hotch.

“So our unsub isn’t just observant.”

“No,” Hotch agrees, “he knows security systems.”

“Or has access to someone who does.”

The manager has to go back to work but the two of you look around the small room for any more clues. Boxes pile up everywhere making the two of you brush shoulders. His phone starts ringing, which makes you both jump.

“Hotchner.” He answers.

He puts the call on speaker so you can hear JJ’s voice on the other end.

“We found something, the second victim took out a restraining order six months ago.”

“Against who?” Hotch asks.

“Against her ex boyfriend.”

“Have him brought in.”

“That’s the problem.” She sighs, “He disappeared three weeks ago.”

-

It took almost a full day to find the ex boyfriend, who ended up being a dead end. Between you and Hotch, it didn’t take long in the interrogation room to see he wasn’t capable of this. Two days later, the fourth victim had turned up.

You stand at the edge of the crime scene, staring down the yellow tape that stretches across the dirt access road.

The victim was twenty-four.

A truck driver found her just before dawn, badly beaten and barely alive. Responding officers got one thing from her before it was too late. She said he talked to her, that was it. He had approached her at another gas station.

One detail caught your attention. It stuck with you all the way back to the station.

“He asked her where she was going.” you pace and the team watches you, “Did all of the victims have destinations? Were they traveling out of their normal daily routine?”

Reid starts rifling through papers on the table, “Yes, the first was heading north from Albuquerque, the second was headed to Colorado, the third was headed to her parents, and the fourth was heading back to her college campus.”

You look at Hotch, “They weren’t chosen because of where they lived.”

“No?”

“They were chosen because they were leaving.”

Hotch nods.

“He’s targeting travelers.”

“More specifically women traveling alone along this stretch.” Your finger traces the map.

“Which means he’s watching them before he approaches.” Derek frowns.

“From where?” Rossi asks.

“The rest stops. He’s watching them leave from a vehicle that can blend in and follow them.”

“What about a trucker?” Reid asks, “That could be how he has the privacy to beat them so severely as well.”

That new development gives Garcia something new to work with and search for and wrap up the evening for the team. Hotch insists on everyone going back to the hotel to try and get some rest. Looking for a trucker who is familiar with the area and is capable of disappearing along a major highway at any moment isn’t easy.

All week you and Aaron have been going everywhere together, it would seem the ride home won’t be any different. You can’t even be surprised by it anymore, you just watch the streetlights pass as he continues to drive in the direction of the hotel.

He clears his throat softly, you automatically look over knowing he’s getting ready to say something. It takes another minute for the words to actually come out, his eyes darting to yours once before looking back at the road.

“I’m sorry.” He quietly tosses out into the void of the car.

“For?” Your brows tighten.

“I never meant for Elle to end up at home alone that day.” He admits, you take a deep breath following his admission. You really didn’t think today would be the time to finally have this conversation. It’s been months, but it would seem he finally has the courage. “I think to myself every day how different things may have been if she wasn’t alone. If Anderson had stayed. If I had taken her home myself. Sent Morgan with her. All of it.”

You swallow, you can tell he means what he’s saying. He has considered the way things could have been different. She never would have killed someone later and given up her career. She could still be on this team. Maybe you wouldn’t be.

“It’s not just because you’re here, even though that is definitely a reminder. For years I have regretted what happened to her.”

A beat passes. The streetlights continue to flash overhead. He looks back again, finally. You can tell he’s bracing for impact. Preparing for the worst. Ready for you to rip him a new one.

“We’ll never know what could have been. Neither of us can change the past.” You offer, surprising both of you. When you first started on the team you would’ve gone straight for the jugular. “I think you made mistakes, but at the end of the day so did she.”

You reminisce on when Elle had just joined the team. Her excitement was undeniable, rattling on and on about the people she was working with and the places she was traveling to. You heard about the infamous Hotchner who was too serious for his own good and terribly good at his job and leading the team. She was different after the case with the Fisher King, too eager to get back and prove herself. She wasn’t the same big sister you grew up with anymore.

“She talked about you. She said you were a pain in the ass, but you always put the team first.” You admit, “She talked about everyone. Gideon. She would call after each case. Towards the end it was clear things had changed.”

“She needed someone to blame.” His shoulders shrug slightly.

“And you’re saying that person is you?”

“I was convenient.” He hesitates with his words, “It was justified.”

“I wasn’t.” You admit, his eyes snapping over to yours, “Some would say I’ve been hostile toward you since I joined the team.”

“Some?” He teases.

“Morgan is afraid to leave us alone because he thinks I’ll do something to lose my job.” You roll your eyes.

“You’re too good at this for that to happen.” He offers.

“Good to know.” You look back at him, “I’ll keep pushing my luck then.”

“Y/n.” He warns your name.

“Seriously.” You lean your head back against the headrest but continue looking in his direction, “Seeing you run this team first hand, I know what she meant when she first joined the team.”

“Which was?”

“You put the team first. You are the job.”

He looks back again, his gaze opening studying you. His eyes look warmer than you’ve ever seen them. The passing streetlights give you a flash of the honey in the darkness. The rest of the drive goes faster than it should, too late for traffic. The hotel parking lot is full but he manages to get a spot before Morgan.

“Funny,” You swing the door open and hop out, turning back to look at him, “Aaron Hotchner, you can talk and drive.”

You slam the door behind you, walking toward the hotel. He watches every move, shaking his head with a smile. He can tell you're laughing too, he gives himself a few more seconds of that peace before heading in.

-

The next morning, Garcia had come up with a list of twenty truckers that the team narrowed down to one. The police spotted his truck and trailer before he could get to victim number five, thanks to the work of you and the BAU.

The team felt the shift in the weeks following Santa Fe. You had stopped being a problem that he needed to manage. Now you were something he wanted to understand. You still didn’t trust him completely, but you were starting to see why your sister had. It was getting easier day by day and case by case.

When the team landed in Chicago, things had changed. You still didn’t particularly enjoy being reminded that Aaron Hotchner was your boss, and he still didn’t like to be challenged by their youngest profiler regularly. But, something had shifted. Your edges weren’t as sharp and the arguments had become almost… fun. Which the team was starting to notice.

“You’re assuming he’s geographically stable.” You look up from the map.

“I’m assuming he has a preference.” Aaron sits on the opposite end of the conference table.

“That’s not the same thing.”

He rolls his eyes, “It is if his preference is consistent.” He points at a map, “Three victims across three different neighborhoods.”

“Four.” You correct automatically.

“One was attempted.”

“Still counts.”

“Not for the geographic profile.” The edge of his lip is barely starting to curl up on one side.

Your eyes narrow, “You’re being pedantic.”

“I’m being accurate.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” You spin around in your chair, eager to get out of the stuffy room where the team was truly getting nowhere.

Morgan looks between the two of you and thinks he’ll go unnoticed, “Are we solving a case or watching a married couple-”

“No.” You and Hotch cut him off simultaneously. Derek’s smile only widens and Emily covers her mouth. JJ shakes her head, pretending to read the file in front of her. Rossi just kept drinking his coffee while looking incredibly smug.

You stop your slow spin to face the table again and point on the map, “The unsub has a comfort zone.”

Hotch nods, “Agreed.”

You look up at him, “See?”

“That doesn’t mean you were right.”

You smile, “I’ll take what I can get.”

Hotch’s mouth twitches.

“Alright, kid.” Morgan suddenly stands from the table and grabs his jacket off the back of it, “Let’s get you out of here before you combust from sitting in this room.”

The table laughs and you shake your head.

“Where are we going?” You stand.

“The second victim’s apartment. The neighbor had to have seen or heard something the night of the attack.”

You glance back at Hotch, “Try not to solve it without us.”

He raises a brow, “I’ll do my best.”

“Ooh, that sounds scary.”

You follow Morgan right out the door to leave the precinct. The room is reeling at your departure and talk as if their boss wasn’t sitting right there.

“Did you see that?” Emily leans toward JJ.

Hotch clears his throat, effectively ending the conversation.

“We have an interview at the hospital in twenty minutes.”

Rossi glances over at him, “Of course.”

The case involved different people attacked in different parts of Chicago over the last four weeks. Three people died, but one managed to get away. Unfortunately she’s on a ventilator and in a coma and unable to point the team in the right direction.

Across town, Rossi and Hotch sit in an SUV headed toward the hospital to interview a potential witness. It was clear Aaron was agitated by the comment and obvious observation earlier from the team. For the first several minutes of the car ride, neither spoke.

“So.” Rossi starts.

“No.”

Rossi smiles, “I haven’t asked anything yet.”

“I know what you’re going to ask.”

“Do you?” He looks over at Aaron, his angry gaze is focused on the road.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“No.”

Rossi chuckles, “Well you either don’t know the question or you’re a liar, Aaron.”

He doesn’t say a word, but he does finally look over at the older man of the two for a brief second.

“What’s going on with you and Greenaway?”

“Nothing.”

“Interesting.”

Hotch looks back at him, “What?”

“It’s the answer I expected.” Rossi shrugs, looking straight ahead.

“Because it’s true.” Aaron defends.

Rossi nods thoughtfully, “Sure.”

Hotch gives him another look.

“Dave.”

“I’m listening.” He smiles.

“There’s nothing going on.” Aaron’s tone remains flat, but Rossi knows him too well.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Aaron.”

“She’s a member of the team.” Hotch reminds.

“I know.”

“She’s an excellent profiler.”

“I know.”

“She’s extremely challenging.”

“I know.”

“She’s still dealing with what happened to Elle.”

Rossi nods, “And you feel responsible.”

Hotch stays quiet for a few long seconds before answering, “Partially.”

“Partially?”

Hotch sighs, “I made mistakes, but there were things I didn’t know.”

Rossi simply nods, letting him continue.

“I don’t want her to think I don’t take what happened seriously.”

“You care what she thinks.” Rossi observes.

“Of course I care what she thinks.”

Rossi smiles, “There it is.”

Hotch frowns again, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means something-”

“It means I’m responsible for the people on my team.” Aaron interrupts.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Hotch knew that. He just didn’t want to say it, Rossi lets the silence sit for a moment. They’re getting close to the hospital now.

“Aaron, you don’t argue with people you don’t respect. You shut them down” Rossi continues, “You don’t tease people you don’t like.”

Another pause.

“You certainly don’t smile at them.” Rossi chuckles because he can’t help himself.

Hotch shakes his head, “She’s Elle’s younger sister. I’m her supervisor.”

Rossi nods along, “And?”

“That makes this complicated.”

Rossi’s eyebrows rise, “Interesting choice of word.”

Hotch looks back at him, “Don’t.”

Rossi holds up his hands in defense, “Fine. But for what it’s worth…”

Aaron waits.

“Whatever this is, it seems healthier than what you two were doing before.”

The buildings continue to pass in a blur.

“I don’t know what it is.”

“Aaron, that is probably the first honest answer you’ve given me.”

-

It took hours for the team to all get back to the conference room later that evening. Everyone was paired off following different leads but coming back now for a bit before calling it a night.

“The neighbor saw a dark SUV.” Derek explains.

“Did they get a make and model?” Reid asks.

You shake your head, “Too dark to tell, one of the streetlights is out. But she remembers the driver.”

Hotch looks up at you, “Description?”

“Male, forties, dark hair, and a gray jacket.”

Reid frowns, “Extremely broad.”

You smile, “Give me a chance, boy genius. She also said he smiled and waved when she saw him outside.”

“Why does that matter?” Emily asks.

“He was watching the neighbor.” You explain, “Which means he’s aware of witnesses.”

Hotch nods, “Which means he’s likely paying attention to the investigation.”

Your eyes meet with that same little spark. That same familiar challenge.

He nods again, “Good catch.”

You smile, “Now it’s getting predictable.”

“So are you.” His frown instantly lifts.

“How?” You question.

“You always have to have the last word.”

You lean back in your seat, eager to say something. Anything. The longer you hold off the better, but it doesn’t last before you prove his point. You're surprised to hear him admit something he's observed about you so easily.

“Someone has to.”

-

By midnight, the team was done. Not because the case had been solved, but because everyone was exhausted. The conference room at the Chicago field office had become a graveyard of coffee cups and takeout boxes.

Hotch finally closes his file, “We’re done for the night.”

“Thank god.” Morgan groans.

Garcia’s voice comes in off the laptop, “I support this decision wholeheartedly.”

“You aren’t even here.” Emily looks at her.

“I’m here spiritually. Peace out my lovely crime fighters.”

She signs out, the screen going black.

You lean back in your chair, “I can keep going.”

“No.” Hotch denies, “You’ve had three cups of coffee.”

“Four.” You correct.

Morgan laughs, “That’s worse.”

“I am functioning perfectly fine.” You argue.

Hotch raises a brow, “You tried to interrogate a vending machine twenty minutes ago.”

“It wouldn’t give me my money back.” You frown.

“You called it an accomplice.”

You squint, “It was behaving suspiciously.”

JJ shakes her head, “Nobody likes a sleep-deprived Greenaway.”

Rossi grabs his coat, “She’s particularly argumentative.”

You point at him, “I’m always argumentative.”

Hotch looks at you, “That’s true.”

Your eyes narrow, “See?”

He almost smiles, “Delirious.”

“I am not delirious!”

“Vending machine.” Hotch blinks, “Conspiracy theory.”

“All I know is I have two less dollars and no snacks.” You shrug.

Morgan comes up and claps a hand on your shoulder, “Come on Greenaway, let’s get you to bed before you start profiling the elevator.”

“Is the elevator also going to rob me?” You swat his hand away, “I can walk, thank you very much.”

The hotel was quiet, everyone disappeared into their room within minutes. You showered, changed, set your alarm, and got into bed. Your eyes were heavy enough that you didn’t even remember falling asleep. It lasted approximately three hours.

At 3:47 a.m. you bolt upright in bed.

You settle onto your back, looking up at the ceiling. Your mind taking you through too many loops to fall back asleep now. The neighbor. The SUV. The witness statements. Dark hair. Grey jacket. The wave.

You had been looking at the wrong part.

You climb out of bed, pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt. Your shoes barely make it on your feet as you grab your badge. You look at the clock one more time. 3:56 a.m. Everyone else on the team is asleep.

You hesitate before leaving your room, walking down the hall two doors. You stop outside of Hotch’s door. Your hand hovers over the wood, debating if this is really worth waking him up in the middle of the night.

“This is a terrible idea.” You mutter to yourself before forcing your hand to knock lightly. Nothing for a few seconds so you knock again. Seconds later you hear the lock turn, the door opens barely four inches.

Hotch is standing there, clearly disheveled. T-shirt and sweatpants, his eyes barely open.

“Greenaway?” He blinks, “It’s four in the morning.”

“I know.”

“Why are you here?” He looks around the hall behind you.

“I figured something out.” You pause before adding a quieter “I think.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Of course you did. And it can’t wait until the sun is up?”

“If I'm right, every minute matters.”

He drops his hand, he knows how true that is more than anyone.

“I want to go over all the witness statements from each victim again. I think we missed the unsub.”

He stares at you, his mind processing at a fraction of what it normally does. You can finally take in how long and dark his lashes are with his slow blinks.

“He isn’t trying to hide, he’s gloating. He can kill someone and wave goodbye and get away with it. He would get the biggest thrill by talking to us directly as a witness.”

His eyes sharpen.

“Do you trust me?” You ask.

“Yes.” He answers without hesitation. You’re not sure if you should blame it on the sleep deprivation or thank it.

“Okay. Get dressed.”

The streets of Chicago were nearly empty. You sit in the passenger seat, Aaron drives with one hand on the wheel. All the lights are green, few other people out on the road yet.

“You know, you’re a lot easier to convince when you’re half asleep.”

He sighs, half a yawn, “Yeah…”

You snort a laugh, “You’re not mad?”

His head is actually resting against the headrest, but he turns toward you for a second.

“You had a breakthrough.”

“At four in the morning.”

His mouth twitches, “Every minute matters.”

You openly smile and he matches it for a second. You catch it before he can turn back toward the road.

“Was that a smile?”

“No.”

“Wow, you must really be tired.”

“Yeah, and you’re using it against me.” He jokes and you actually laugh. He fails at hiding his smile.

“Very effective.”

For nearly two hours after arriving back at the station the two of you go over all the statements. Again and again, using your own resources to look up backgrounds since Garcia is asleep states away.

A few officers looked surprised to see the BAU walking in at four in the morning. Hotch didn’t explain and you didn’t either. It was almost six when you finally stopped on one of the witnesses. You sit up straighter as everything starts to click.

“Wait.”

Hotch looks up, “What?”

“Here.” You get up and read it out loud, “Marcus Bell. Forty five and works for the city doing maintenance.”

He takes the report from your hand so he can look it over himself.

You reach for another picture, “The city maintenance crew wears grey jackets.”

You hand Hotch the picture and he stares it over, “That’s him.”

He’s already reaching for his phone. He makes the call and detectives are moving within minutes. Marcus Bell was at home, his vehicle parked on the street outside. A search warrant was already being prepared, and the team hadn’t even arrived yet.

At seven thirty, the rest of the team walks into the field office with coffee in hand. They pause when they see cops everywhere, moving far too quickly for how early it still is.

Emily walks in behind him, “What happened?”

An officer hurried past, “Marcus Bell was just arrested.”

Morgan blinks, “Who?”

“The BAU got him.” The officer tosses over his shoulder, still in a rush.

Derek throws up his hands, “Okay, now I’m really confused!”

The team moves to the conference room they had been occupying. You and Hotch are sitting at the table, surrounded by files. Both of you look completely exhausted.

You look up, “Morning.”

“Apparently we should have told the two of you not to solve the case without us.” Rossi looks between the two of you.

“What did you do?” Derek questions.

Hotch looks up, “Found the unsub.”

“When?” Emily shouts, “How?”

Aaron looks over at you, “She had an idea.”

“At four in the morning.” You add.

Derek turns toward Hotch, “You let her wake you up at four?”

Hotch stares back before a small shrug, “She had a theory. It paid off.”

Outside of the conference room, officers escort Marcus Bell past in handcuffs. The case was over. The families would have answers and a dangerous man was off the streets.

You lean back in your chair, your neck resting on the back of it.

“You should sleep.” Hotch voices.

You smile, “So should you.”

“That’s an order.”

Now you snap your head back up to look at him. A small smile on his face.

“Bossy.” You shake your head, “Now who’s delirious?”

You laugh and Hotch tries not to, but fails. Everyone notices.

-

Six weeks after the Chicago case, everyone was beyond pretending they didn’t notice things. You found yourself sitting near him on the plane more and more. He somehow always knew when you needed another file, before you could even ask.

Morgan nearly choked at the table during a briefing when Hotch slid you his muffin when your stomach rumbled loud enough for the whole room to hear. Neither of you acknowledged what he had just done.

The banter was still constant.

You were still at your apartment when you got the call. It was 6:14 a.m. Hotch barely got out a handful of words before he was hanging up and calling the next team member.

It only takes you less than twenty minutes from that call to make it into the bullpen. Somehow Hotch and JJ are already here. The rest of the team doesn’t take long to show up, Hotch marches out of his office.

“Everybody to the conference room.”

Morgan looks up between everyone, “What’s going on?”

He doesn’t get an answer until the team is sitting around the table.

“Bomb threat?”

Hotch nods, “DC Metro received an anonymous call at 5:47 this morning.”

“What was the threat?” You look up at him.

“One bomb.” He pauses, “At first.”

JJ frowns, “At first?”

“The caller said there would be multiple devices.”

Morgan sits forward, “How many?”

“Three confirmed.” Aaron swallows, the room stays silent.

Rossi eventually looks over at Hotch, “What are the targets?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

Garcia pulls up the audio file of the call.

“It’s automated.” She types rapidly, “The initial call was directed to the bomb squad for metro, that’s the department he was trying to reach.”

‘You built your city on graves.’ the voice robotically speaks, ‘At noon, four, and twelve they will need to expand. This city will mourn.’

The dial clicks off, not leaving you guys with much.

“He gave us a schedule?” Reid questions with the raise of his brows.

“No,” you shake your head, “He’s giving us a countdown.”

Hotch nods, “He’s controlling the response.”

“He’s not trying to hide the bombs.” You continue.

Hotch follows instantly.

“He’s announcing them.” His face growing more serious, “Because he wants the city looking for them.”

Rossi leans forward, “Which means?”

“He wants us distracted.” You look back at Hotch again, eyes meeting.

The same thought at the same time.

“There’s a fourth target.”

-

Within two hours, the BAU had a task force assembled. Bomb technicians were ready all over the city as highly populated areas were being thoroughly inspected. The first device was found beneath a parked car right outside a government office building.

It was capable of causing significant casualties and there’s only reason to believe he’ll get bigger and bigger with it. The city was shutting down streets and evacuating buildings. Somewhere, the unsub was watching it all.

Hotch walks back into the room after getting on a call, “What’s our timeline?”

“First device is secure.” JJ answers.

“Second target is still unknown, but we bought ourselves some time if he’s still following his own timeline.” You continue.

He nods, “We need to assume the second device is still in place.”

Reid looks up from the map, “We need to consider what other government buildings he’s targeting.”

Your gut pulls at you. Screaming to speak up, even though you don’t have the evidence to back it. Screw it.

“Actually, I think that’s too obvious now.”

The team all looks at you, giving you their attention and the opportunity to continue. You walk over to the map of DC on the wall.

“He wants us to think politically motivated.”

“But?” Rossi questions.

“He chose the first location because of what it represents.”

Hotch watches you, tilting his head, “Not what it does.”

You nod, “Exactly. What if his second target is about quantity? Where would he have the most potential casualties? The biggest fallout?”

It was closer than anyone had wanted, but at 3:38 p.m., the second bomb was found. You had started to sweat thinking you maybe led the team down the wrong path, but it paid off when it was found inside a Metro station.

The evacuation was chaotic, forcing thousands of people out onto the streets. The bomb squad moved in and disarmed it within minutes.

This officially confirmed for the team that these targets weren’t random at all. The first was a federal building. The second was public infrastructure.

“What connects them?” Morgan asks out loud to the room, not to anyone in particular.

Reid points to the locations again, “Both were built during major periods of urban expansion.”

“So?” Rossi frowns.

“Both were built after major government reconstruction projects.” Garcia notes, eyes glued to the screen in front of her, “Post-war redevelopment that became federal expansion.”

“So he’s not really targeting buildings or people.” You sit up straighter.

“He’s targeting history.” Hotch crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the table.

“Maybe.” You turn back toward him, “We know he’s getting angrier with each one of his failures.”

“You think he’ll escalate?” Emily asks.

“I think he’ll do anything to make sure his surprise finale goes off without a hitch.”

-

The third device was in a parking garage for a government housing complex.

The team should be celebrating. You guys knew better than that.

The fourth target was the one that actually mattered to him. The team has spent the entire day pissing him off, if he didn’t have a fourth he does now.

“We’ve already evacuated three highly crowded areas, what would be bigger and more dense?” You think outloud, “Reid, any concerts or big games tonight?”

He shakes his head as the words are still leaving your mouth, “The Nationals had a game but it’s already been postponed.”

JJ gestures with her hands as she speaks, “Where is everyone on a Friday night?”

Hotch’s eyes widen, “The National Mall.”

The room goes silent, he reaches for his phone.

“Get every available unit to the National Mall.”

The team is already in motion, you pair off with Hotch. Sirens were starting to fill the streets. The clock was still counting down, but this time you didn’t know when it would stop. Somewhere up ahead, there was a bomb big enough to change the city forever.

Maybe for the first time since joining the BAU, you weren’t thinking about Elle. Or Aaron. The only thing on your mind was all of the people you needed to save. In the driver's seat next to you Aaron can’t help but think the exact same.

It was too crowded.

Tourists. Families. Joggers. Couples. Photographers.

Thousands of people unaware that somewhere there was a clock ticking.

You look around the crowded area, scanning faces and trying to spot red flags. Hotch does the same, looking in the other direction. There’s a table set up with cliche touristy magnets and T-shirts. No one is standing with the items. Never in your life have you seen a street vendor abandon their stuff so carelessly.

“Hotch?” You ask, nodding in its direction.

It doesn’t take long for him to catch onto what you’re thinking. The two of you move closer, a large tub sits under the table. You look up at Hotch and he nods so you carefully take off the lid. The bomb is hidden inside, time flashing down and two many wires to count.

He drops beside you, “It’s too big to move.”

You look up at the crowd, there’s too many people and with the size of this no one within blocks would stand a chance.

“Less than two minutes.” You tie your hair back and Aaron reaches for his phone to call Morgan.

“Hotch?” He answers instantly.

He hesitates for a second, “We found the device.”

“Where are you?” Derek pants, “How much time?”

“Street vendor stand by the Lincoln Memorial.”

“A minute and twenty-six seconds.” You answer Morgan’s other question.

He sighs again, “I’m not close enough.”

He’s running, you can tell by the sound coming through on the phone.

You look up at Hotch, his eyes already studying you.

“Talk us through it.” You decide.

Morgan’s rough inhale tells you he doesn’t love this idea either.

“Don’t touch anything yet.”

“Too late.”

“Of course you did, Greenaway.”

“Focus.” Aaron reminds.

This device was more sophisticated than the previous bombs. Multiple circuits and backup power. Morgan gave careful instructions step by step. Between that and Aaron’s reassuring nod, your hands stopped shaking.

“There should be a blue wire.”

“There’s three.”

“Great.”

Hotch stares at the timer, watching the precious seconds pass by.

“One should go underneath to the main housing.”

You follow the wire all the way under, “I see it.”

“That’s your primary trigger.”

“What about the secondary?” Hotch asks.

“If she disconnects the wrong one, it accelerates.”

You huff, “That’s reassuring.”

“You’re doing great.” Aaron’s voice comes out softer than you’ve ever heard.

You cut the cord, the timer continues to drop.

“Forty seconds.” Hotch announces.

“Next step, Morgan.” You demand, sweat building at your temples.

“Now the second circuit. There should be another panel of wires.”

Tourists all over laugh and continue taking pictures. Completely oblivious.

“There.” Hotch points his hand coming over yours to guide it toward the panel, “Red and yellow, Morgan.”

It takes a few seconds for him to answer.

“Yellow.”

00:19 flashes in your face.

Derek says it with enough confidence you cut this one without hesitation. Nothing. You both stare at the timer.

“Why isn’t it stopping?”

Morgan’s voice goes quiet, “Hotch, there’s a manual trigger. That’s the last step.”

Your blood goes cold.

“Where?”

“Underneath.”

He reaches under the bomb and with some reaching and the flip of a switch a few seconds later the timer finally stops.

00:06 flashes.

“Got it.” Hotch pants.

“You’re clear.” Derek cheers, Hotch hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket.

Hotch sits back on his heels and you do the same. For a second neither of you move, you start to laugh. He looks over, a smile growing. He pulls your side in against him in a hug. You’ve never touched him like this. You’ll probably have to blame this on adrenaline.

“That was fun.” You laugh.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

You smile and pull back so you can look at him, he’s still closer than he’s ever been. His eyes fall down to your lips for a split second. Your heart starts beating faster than it had been when the bomb was still active.

“Aaron Hotchner, you were scared-”

A gunshot cracks through the air. Hotch looks up immediately, your body drops to the ground. He’s quick to the draw, reaching for the gun at his waist. The man doesn’t get off another shot, Aaron’s impeccable aim settling the score.

Blood was rapidly blooming across your shoulder and spreading across your chest. Hotch is on his knees at your side yelling for an ambulance, your eyes flutter and you see him in flashes. His voice echoes your name but it sounds distant. His hand is held against the wound.

“Stay with me.”

You manage to focus your eyes on his for another second. You hold it as long as possible, but the weight on your eyelids starts to win.

Daniel Erickson was a thirty-nine year old former city engineer. He had no criminal record or any psychiatric history. No obvious extremist affiliation. He had been present for the bomb, waiting for it to explode. He intended to die with it. Some would say he did.

The profile was wrong, everyone had assumed he wanted to witness the destruction. In the end he wanted to be part of it.

The team approaches as the paramedics get you on a gurney. You’re out of it at this point, the team watches them rush you away. Hotch remains hot on their heels, his shirt stained in your blood. He doesn’t even look up at them as he passes, his focused locked on you. They watch all the way until Hotch disappears into the ambulance after you.

Morgan looks over to the body bag being zipped up, “How did we miss that?”

Rossi simply shakes his head, forcing his hands into his pockets.

“We didn’t have enough information.”

Derek looks to where your ambulance has now disappeared.

“She could die.”

“I know,” Rossi reaches out to pat his shoulder carefully, “I know.

-

The hospital waiting room had never felt so small and it had been nearly four hours. Four hours since you had been rushed through the doors and disappeared deeper where Aaron wasn’t allowed to follow anymore. The team joined him not long after he finally sat down.

The bullet had entered high in your chest, just below the shoulder.

The surgeon had already been out to update the team, “If the bullet had been two inches to the right, she wouldn’t have had a chance.”

Two inches.

That short distance replayed in Aaron’s mind a thousand times.

Two inches.

Dried blood was still on Aaron’s shirt. He hadn’t noticed, but everyone else had. Nobody said anything. The team had gone unusually quiet. They had grown used to you filling most conversations, and of course getting the last word in.

Now, no one had anything to say. Even Penelope.

Rossi sits across from Hotch, two untouched coffees sitting between them. Morgan stands near the window, somehow unable to sit even still. Reid was trying to read, but found himself stuck on the same page. Emily was outside, pretending not to have a stress cigarette. JJ was pacing, her phone never leaving her hand.

None of them were good at waiting. Especially for one of their own. Especially for you. You had become one of their own without question.

Morgan was protective of you from the beginning. JJ took you under her wing. You and Emily had developed a beautiful friendship and witty banter that never ceased. Reid was fascinated by your ability to argue against his statistics with remarkable persuasion. Rossi had started lumping you in with his daughter as just another one of his girls.

And Aaron.

He hadn’t allowed himself to say what you had become to him. Not even privately to himself. He knew he cared. He knew part of him was obsessed. He’d known for weeks.

Morgan breaks the silence, “How long has it been?”

JJ checks the clock, “Almost four hours.”

“That’s a long surgery.” His jaw tightens.

“She’ll be okay.” Garcia tries to reassure, but it’s not even a fraction of her typical positivity.

“You don’t know that.” Reid says, without looking up from his book. Still on the same page.

“No.” Garcia swallows, focusing on her knitting needles with tears in her eyes, “But I’m going to keep on saying it.”

It took another hour for the surgeon to appear. Everyone stood at once, the doctor looked exhausted but they could all see the good news on her face.

“She’s stable.”

The entire room sighed in relief.

“Oh, thank god!” Garcia cries.

The doctor continues, “The bullet fractured her clavicle. We repaired the damage and removed the bullet. She’s going to be in a sling for several weeks, possibly longer depending on how the fracture heals.”

Hotch nods, closing his eyes briefly.

“She also lost a significant amount of blood.”

His eyes open.

“But she’s stable. She was extremely lucky.” The doctor nods, “She’ll be unconscious for a while, the anesthesia is still wearing off.”

“Can we see her?” JJ asks.

She nods, “One at a time.”

The team looks to one person.

“Hotch.” Morgan states.

He looks at him, almost embarrassed by how badly he needed it. How easily they all saw that.

“You need to see her.”

He hesitates, Rossi gives him an encouraging nod.

“Thank you.”

Your room is dim, you look too small beneath the hospital blankets in bed. Your arm secured in a sling, and wires all over you. Monitors. An IV. He stops just inside the door. For a moment, he couldn’t move.

You don’t look like the person he’s come to know well over the last few months. The woman who argued over everything. The woman who woke him up at four in the morning. The woman who stole coffee and lied about it. The one who gave him his first real smile in the car.

But it is you.

The thought hit him so hard he almost stopped breathing.

Eventually he can move again, he pulls the chair closer to your bed. He sits slowly, his hand hovering over yours before taking it.

“I-” He clears his throat, his voice sounded strange, “I don’t know if you can hear me.”

He looks at your face.

“But you scared the hell out of me.” He swallows, “I was terrified.”

The monitor continues its steady beeps, he looks back at your hands.

“I don’t know what we’re doing.” A humorless smile touches his face, “I’m not even sure what this is.”

He shakes his head, his voice growing softer.

“But something changed. Somewhere along the way.”

He looks back at you.

“I look for you, when I walk into any room.” He pauses, “I started wondering what you thought before making decisions.”

His thumb brushes the back of your hand.

“I enjoy arguing with you.”

He smiles faintly.

“That’s probably the most concerning part of all of this.”

He sighs again and reaches out his free hand to brush hair off your forehead.

“I care about you more than I should.” He admits, “But I-”

The door opens and he stops himself, looking over and freezing.

Elle Greenaway stands in the doorway.

Her eyes immediately go to you, concerned for her younger sister. Then they jump to Hotch. Then to the joined hands. Her expression hardens within seconds.

“Aaron.”

He stands, “Elle.”

If Hotch had been paying attention earlier he would’ve heard JJ say she got ahold of Elle and she was getting on the first flight. Even if he had been listening, he still would’ve been just as surprised to see her standing in the doorway after all these years.

He needs to thank JJ. That technically should have been his job, but he doubts Elle would’ve taken his call.

She walks into the room, not saying anything else yet. She stands on the other side of your bed. Looking at you again, concern all over her face. Then she looks back at him. She gives him an unimpressed look and it sinks his gut.

“I begged her not to join this team.”

Aaron’s jaw tightens, “I know.”

“I told her this would happen.”

He looks down at you for a second, letting Elle continue.

“She made her own decision.” Aaron says finally.

“I know,” her eyes sharpen, “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No.”

“Because it doesn’t.”

Hotch nods.

Elle looks back down at you, “It’s only a matter of time with this team.”

Hotch looks back at her.

“What?”

“Before someone ends up in a hospital.” Her voice cracks slightly. Her expression shifts again, trying to hide how scared she is. There you lay, in a hospital bed unmoving.

Tears gather in Elle’s eyes, she takes it all in. Aaron steps away, grabbing the other chair and moving it to the other side of the bed so she can sit. He grabs a box of tissues from the table on the far side of the room and sets them down within reach without saying a word.

She waits until he sits back down in his original chair before speaking again.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes fall back to you for a second, “I care about her.”

Elle goes still.

“I care about her more than I should.”

“How long?”

He blinks, “What?”

“How long have the two of you been together?”

“We haven’t-”

“Don’t lie.” She interrupts.

“No.” He shakes his head, “It was just starting. Something. I think.”

He feels more pathetic about it the longer she stares at him.

“You love her.”

He freezes.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Elle’s expression grew complicated. A mix of anger and protective instinct, but some of the hostility faded. She looks back at you, then back at him.

“Does she know?”

“No.” His voice is barely audible.

She nods slowly, “You need to tell her.”

“She’s going to kill me.”

Elle smiles. He’d forgotten what it looked like. He can now recognize how similar it is to yours.

“Hopefully.” She bites, the smile that remains tells him it’s at least teasing now.

For the first time all night, Aaron smiled.

-

It takes a few more hours for you to wake up. Your eyes are still closed, but you can hear people arguing. It isn’t loud, but it’s definitely two people disagreeing. You can’t quite get your eyes open yet, but you’re desperately trying to figure out where you are.

Everything hurts. Your shoulder feels like a truck drove through it. Your mouth is dry and your head feels heavy.

“She’s been chasing this team to prove a point.” Elle mutters “I think she sees what I did as a failure. She’s trying to fix what I broke.”

Aaron’s brows furrow, knowing that is far from the truth. He knows you admire Elle, you’d never see what happened as her failure.

“Do you ever think she’s doing this for you?” He questions carefully.

Your eyes slowly open, the ceiling is white and there's a machine beeping beside you. Elle is sitting on one side and Aaron is sitting on the other.

Both turn immediately to look at you. You blink a couple times.

Your voice comes out hoarse, “This can’t be real.”

Both of them freeze.

“Hell is significantly more creative than I anticipated.” You mutter, your throat dry making it hard for your words to come out evenly.

Elle’s mouth falls open, “You’re awake.”

You look at her, “Potentially. This isn’t very convincing.”

Elle smiles and Aaron’s mouth twitches.

“You two in the same room?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Elle shakes her head. “You’re in the hospital.”

Aaron finally gains the courage to say something, “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got shot.”

“You did.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hotchner.”

Elle smiles, “Well it’s nice to confirm no neurological damage, still sarcastic as ever.”

“How much do you remember?” He asks.

Your face falls a little, “The bomb. You. That’s it.”

His face tightens. He looks awful, like he had aged ten years overnight.

“You were shot by the bomber. He was there waiting for it to go off.”

“We didn’t have it in our profile that he would kill himself.”

He shakes his head.

“Your clavicle was fractured.” Elle twists a piece of hair away from your face.

A soft knock at the door has them both turning, you can’t move much yet but the team comes into view. One by one filtering in, starting with Morgan.

“There she is.” He grins.

You smile, “Hi, Morgan.”

He crosses the room and carefully hugs you from your good side.

“Don’t do that again.”

You wince, “Just for you, Derek.”

He pulls back and immediately looks like he could cry.

“Seriouisly.”

You squeeze his hand, “I’m okay.”

“You scared the hell out of us.”

Emily, JJ, Reid, and Garcia go next. Everyone is gentle, Garcia ends up needing to be pulled away by Derek after her tears start getting on you.

“You should know better,” Rossi leans down to hug you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “It’s cruel to scare an old man like that.”

You smile, “Sorry, Rossi.”

“Be careful, bella.”

The room was full of people who all cared so much about you. They had spent hours waiting in hard plastic chairs after the longest day, but they stay as long as the doctors let them. They ask about the pain. They tell you about Daniel and what ended up happening. Hotch remains quiet when it gets to the retelling of everything that happened after the bomb was diffused.

He stands toward the back of the room, backing off when everyone else came in. You catch his gaze every once and awhile, each time something passes between the two of you.

“How are we feeling?” The doctor asks loudly, entering and weaving through the small crowd you’ve gathered.

“Everyone keeps asking me that.” You sigh.

“That’s because you’re alive.”

You nod.

“Which also means, you still need rest.” She starts waving everyone to the door, “Everyone can come back a little bit later. One at a time again.”

There were groans, everyone shifting up off of chairs and the stiff couch. The doctor smiled, “You guys will have plenty of time to come back and visit.”

Derek steps forward and reaches out for a fist bump on your good side, “Call if you need anything.”

You nod. Everyone begins filing out with various goodbyes. Elle and Hotch were the last ones, he reaches for his jacket, ready to leave you alone with your sister for a while.

“Actually,” Elle reaches out a hand to stop him, “I’m going to run to Y/n’s apartment to get you some clothes for when they let you out of here.” Aaron looks at her and she smirks at him. She digs out your spare key, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Bring back food,” You call after her, “Hospital food is nasty!”

She waves a hand in your direction and walks out without confirming. Like a true sister, you know she’ll bring something anyway.

“Staying?” You ask, watching him hesitate in returning to the seat he had occupied most of the night.

He sits down, moving it a little closer.

“Staying.” He confirms.

“Should I be concerned with how well you and Elle are getting along?”

He huffs a laugh out his nose, “Probably.”

You smile, wincing slightly when you try to turn your head. He moves even closer, reaching out cautiously.

“Don’t move too much.”

“You’re still worried.” You observe.

“I think I’m going to be worried about you for a long time.” He admits.

“Did you stay?” You ask.

“All night.”

“Why?”

Because you’re on his team. Because he’s responsible for you.Because that’s just who he is. “Because I couldn’t leave.”

You go quiet and he takes your hand. Very carefully. His thumb sweeps across your knuckles.

“I thought I watched you die.” He flinches, clearly replaying it in his mind, “I realized I care about you more than I should. I love you. And I am nowhere near ready to know what my life looks like without you in it.”

He continues before you can respond.

“I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know when you stopped being the person who challenged every decision I make and became…”

He exhales.

“Someone I can’t imagine losing.”

You stare at him, he squeezes your hand. A small smile appears on your face.

“That’s inconvenient.”

His mouth twitches.

“Very.”

Your grin widens, “You really love me?”

He nods earnestly, “Yes.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm still going to argue with you constantly.”

This finally breaks a real smile onto his face. Your cheeks hurt from how long they’ve been pulling.

“I know.” He nods.

“And you’re still my boss.”

“I am.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to argue at work and at home?”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your smile softens, “I love you too.”

Aaron’s breath caught. You squeeze his hand this time, he pulls it up to his lips so he can press a kiss to the back of it.

“This feels too good to be true.” he sighs in relief, getting up and pressing a kiss to your temple, then to your hairline, and then the top of your head.

“What?” You grin, “Scared because the last time we had a moment I was shot?”

He huffs a surprised laugh before looking in pain, “Please, no more jokes about you being shot.”

“No promises.” You smirk, “That’s the only fun part of being shot.”

He shakes his head, “You’re going to keep me on my toes.”

“All ten of ‘em.”

an// omg you guys, I am so sorry to all my other work because THIS has been consuming my brain. Holy fuck this was wild lol. I am sorry in advance if Elle isn’t super accurate, I wanted to go back and rewatch her episodes prior to this but this just poured out lol. Also lmk if the italics piss anyone off, i like them but i know not everyone does in a fic.

PLEASE TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS, MY LOVES! THIS WAS FUN! do we need more of them 😙

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