𝘉𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘋 | 𝘈.𝘏. ✔️

• Twenty Six

"I have trust and I know he loves me, he makes it clear everyday," you protest softly, "But transference-"

"Is a psychological term used to describe a feeling a person had for a once present parent is now unconsciously drifted or transferred."

"Do what we have- can it be classified as that?"

"Only if you make it that way. It doesn't have to be, not if you know him. Not if you have trust in what you've built can withstand the weight of the worlds problems."

One point for Brooke.

Maybe you could make her work, for a little while at least. You fall silent, scared that you're contradicting your own feelings even more. It's something you do a lot.

Probably a problem you should talk about but you didn't have the guts to do it in that moment. Cars drive swiftly through the city and you find yourself mesmerized by them. So oblivious to what you're doing. Every driver has a different life from yours, they all grew up in different homes and circumstances with endless ancestors.

You can imagine yourself driving one of those cars. It scares you how well you can imagine looking down on yourself. How clear your face looks in your own mind. That's a way you can conclude you do know yourself inside out. Even if therapy needs to help you better discover it, you know. 

"So what now?" you ask to break the silence.

Brooke slowly slides out of her chair and walks over to you. "I want to uncover what is keeping you on a string."

Even if you didn't fully understand, you nod anyways and let her push you down into a laying position. "I need you to relax and close your eyes."

You do.

"Take yourself back to that night, how you felt, how it smelled, what you saw."

She doesn't touch you as she says that, you're not sure where she is in the room. You imagine the night of the halloween party, in a full coverage outfit after your talk with Hotch in the hallway.

You barely got into the house before you were slammed against a wall with a groan. Axels hand gripped your throat tightly so there was no air circulating at all.

"Who were you with, hm?" he spat calmly.

"I w-was in-" you gasped for a breath, "-the bathroom."

You furrow your brows and take a deep breath, knowing this would bring back every single dying second of these moments.

His eyes looked crazy, rage pumping his blood, making decisions for him. He wasn't acting rationally, he never really was. The fear you felt was like nothing from before. You truly thought this is how you would die, in the hands of a man who made your skin bruise to the bone.

"You're such a fucking liar!" he screamed, "Do you know how pathetic that is?! Someone didn't raise you right, you listen to me!"

Tears streamed down your face, "I'm not lying, please!"

A hard slap came across your face, stringing your wet skin. The rings he wore made the pain worse and broke the skin, blood now mixing with the salty tears. "Who were you with Y/N?!"

"I was in t-the bathroom" you repeated. Your eyes fluttered closed, suddenly you became tired and ready to give out.  "I'm not lying" you whispered more to yourself.

"Yes you are! Do you think I can't see through your lies?!"

You shook your head no as quickly as you could. Suddenly he dropped you onto the floor, your hands catching you just in time, not before he lands a kick in your ribs. Blow after blow, you wanted to die. You thought that anything would be better than this, the pain was so overwhelming.