Against Protocol (Aaron Hotchner X Reader)

chapter seventeen: shattered god complex

The next morning, as Anderson clumsily waved at you as you walked by with his folder, you entered the briefing room to see the round table filled with cords and convoluted wires circling the legs of the table, an ominous presentation this early in the morning for you to decipher.

Soft flashes of light from a command board with toggles and switches and green and red buttons circled a phone that sat in the dead-center of the table like an eerie reminder of all the mysterious empty phone calls Hotch had received.

"What is all of this?" you ask curiously, dropping your book bag onto the floor beside you as Garcia and Derek continued setting up the complex system of technology you had failed to understand.

Rossi, who was idly standing in the corner as Garcia and Derek chipped away at the system, answers, "You're going to call the unsub, make it clear you've turned down his offer, and let him know you plan on seeing Hotch later tonight."

A voice comes out from behind you at the door, growing louder as it nears you. "I still haven't agreed to this. We're risking . . . a lot," Hotch stringently reminds as he enters the room, but there's a fearful shakiness in his voice. His fingers flutter behind you, touching the small of your back comfortingly, dropping his hand as he comes into Rossi's view.

"Are we trying to trace him?" you question, feeling the rush of Hotch's delicate touch still circulate as Garcia dramatically joins two wires together. Without her, this case would've gone nowhere.

"It's unlikely we'll get a location," Garcia chimes in cheerily, juxtaposing the pessimistic tone the conversation was taking. "The unsub has been pinging his cell off different cell towers. I haven't been able to get a hit."

"But we need to get the unsub riled up enough to make a mistake and meet you two at the restaurant," Rossi adds, directing his attention toward you. "Make it clear you're not accepting his offer, shatter his god complex."

"And if he doesn't show up?" you ask preemptively.

"He will," Hotch counters decisively, turning out towards the exit again. His shoulders brush up against yours discreetly. "Y/N, can we talk privately in my office? I'd like to go over the phone call and plans for tonight."

"Of course," you answer back, following him out the briefing room as Derek and Garcia continue to flirtatiously set up the phone system. You could hear their witty banter from down the hall.

Shutting the door behind him, Hotch leans against his desk pensively. His fingers tap at the rim of the table, eyes drawn to you in contemplation.

"I'm sure you're aware I still haven't finalized this operation yet. Your safety is our — my — priority. We're forcing you to openly turn down the unsub's deals, which I understand is not an easy thing to do. Your life's on the line, and I don't need you to risk that just to catch the bad guy. There are other ways." His voice is rough, but his words are gentle, hitting the air like it's about to break. "Ways that don't put you in danger."

You stand up, leveling yourself so you're making eye contact with him. He holds it, tethering his stare with yours as he waits for your answer. The corner of your lip quirks upward as you close in on the distance between the two of you. "If you think I'm going to let some cowardly unsub manipulate me into leaving you," you say, jabbing your finger into his chest as you got closer. "Then you're sorely mistaken, Aaron Hotchner."

Hotch shakes his head, a soft grin coming out from under his cold, stoic stare. "You are something else, Y/N L/N." Your full name sounds foreign in his mouth, curling his tongue airily. He leans in forward, hooking his chin to the crook of your neck, his resonant voice lingering near your ear. "You make me question who's boss."