𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 | 𝘼. 𝙃𝙊𝙏𝘾𝙃𝙉𝙀𝙍

fifteen

Smiler knew at that moment he was caught- just like rats in a sewer. Then, he made his first mistake as he walked backwards and shocked himself as the metal tray crashed with its utensils. You began moving faster with Spencer clipping your heels. Panic spread throughout his veins- he wasn't smiling anymore. Small sectors of light broke through an old door, and the next loud noise sent you running into the room. And there he was. His back was rested against the chair that had tipped over but his face- it was completely purple and swollen, he looked as if he was on the verge of death but still hung on.

'Hotch it's me, Beck! Can you hear me? Hotch, please,' you begged him, untying the restraints on his hands. He didn't respond, 'Hotch, I've found you!' you pleaded again, but nothing. Ahead, another door flung open and you looked from it and back to Aaron.

'Go! I've got him!' Spencer shouted, pushing you into a run. Holding your gun tightly, you followed Smiler into a back exit of the room which lead to an empty area in the darkness- he ran and ran but you paused and called for him.

'Stop!' you shouted, and to your surprise he did, 'Look at me,' and he did so. His hands were in the air as if he assumed he'd be arrested.

'You caught me, Agent,' he hummed and started laughing once again. Morgan too, was now behind you.

'Why was it my family? What did they ever do to you?'

'Your father failed me. I just wanted peace but if the law couldn't do me justice, well, I had to take it into my own hands. My son shot himself, but oh, when your little brother went the same way- man, that was a spectacle,' he chimed.

'It was your gun. It was your fault,' you blamed and he just grinned.

'I'll be smiling when you put me away, Agent. I grant you that.'

'Put you away?'

'You'll come to see my execution, won't you?' he smirked.

A cavity was blown between his eyes.

'Front. Row. Seats,' and the life fled from him as he dropped to his knees and the shot echoed out. Morgan broke the gun from your hands, and you came back into the moment.

'Hotch,' and you rushed back towards the exit.

             Three weeks and five books had passed, and he still wasn't awake. Sedation plus the amount of torture he endured meant he could be out for a while, but you were there every second. Nurses had deemed you his closest relative and offered you pillows for when you stayed there at weekends- or any other chance you could get. One particular nurse came in for your every visit and played chess, checking in on you as well as check mating you; she offered you food and some comfort while you rested with him.

When two weeks had gone by, his beard was rough and you were allowed to clean him up; the blade gliding over his face and gently around his jaw, and yet he still didn't wake up. Flowers were replaced every week by Garcia and sometimes the night wanderers came to visit in the early hours- that usually meant Spencer, but from time to time it was Morgan or JJ. On a few occasions, you brought Jack to see his dad and tried to convince him he was just sleeping- or was that to convince yourself? That he'd be awake soon? Nonetheless, Hotch was still resting and the nurses weren't telling you much- only that the swelling was improving and by week three he was nearly perfect again. You read to him, talked about your day to him, even sang to him from time to time- but nothing.

They always said that the moment you leave somebody something happens, and yes that did seem untrue, but as you walked into the office on that wintery morning your phone rang as JJ met the side of you.

'Anything?' she wondered before you answered the phone.

'No,' you answered, putting the phone to your ear. It was at that moment you dropped your coffee and ran from the office whilst so many eyes were drawn to you. Snow was falling a little as you hustled between commuters and anyone who was in your way. God, this time the ward seemed to get further away but you ran breathlessly through the corridors and found his room- stopping. You stopped, why? You hadn't spoken to him since your date, what would you say? You turned to the vending machine and saw your reflection, sorting your hair and attempting to look less flushed from the distance you ran. Entering the room, there he was, sat upright looking outside until he noticed you. Saying nothing, you walked over and wrapped your arms around him.

'Hi,' you smiled at him.

'Hey.'

'How do you feel, Aaron?'

'Alright, I think I'll be fine' he nodded, rubbing his shoulder slightly.

'Sorry, it's just- you've been gone for a while' you confessed.

'How long?' he sighed, looking around.

'Just over a month. Oh and, I shot him. The man that took you. I did it. He's gone. He's gone Hotch,' you were proud as that corner smile reached his face as he glanced towards the flowers, 'Everyone's missed you so much.'

He looked away and smiled a bit more, 'As have I,' he said, making you smile half-heartedly, 'I'm sorry,' he shook his head a little, 'Who are you?'