"Look, Mr. Hotchner, Agent Hotchner, Hotch, my brother is dead, we've dealt with it already, I have a life, people I need to take care of, the last thing I need to do is throw my family into any unknown water anytime soon bringing this back up," I s...
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~ so much of what we learn about love, is taught to us by people who never really loved us ~
For once we had no case.
Instead, I laid silently on Rossi's couch as he did paperwork.
I had finished mine yesterday with Reid's help since he still felt bad for the Liberty Ranch incident.
I try not to show any nervous signs, like tapping my fingers against my thigh or clicking my tongue but I think Rossi caught onto my apprehensive attitude because it didn't take long for him to set down his pen and look at me.
Feeling his gaze on the side of my face, I reposition so I was facing him, my head on my shoulder, "Yes David?" I ask, my voice monotone, my mind not really present.
It was only a matter of time before Garcia got into that file and everyone would know almost everything about me.
It's a scary thought, a gut wrenching feeling to know that someone you know, knows some of the biggest secrets you have.
That someone might never look at you the same or that a father might finally reject you when he finds out certain decisions I had to make, actions I had to take.
I was highly aware the team knew barely anything about me, I mean sure, they knew the basics.
You know, full name, birthdate, shoe size, height, phone number.
Things they could read from a file, things that I let slip, but the didn't know a lot.
In fact I'm about 100% positive that they don't even know my favorite color.
Which is my fault, I'm distant, I'm private.
And ya, I know that's okay, I don't have to tell them everything, I don't have to tell them anything but they're just so close, and I can't bring myself to be honest with them and them not except that.
I've had enough rejection and abandonment in my life, I didn't need more.
Rossi clears his throat causing me to turn to him.
He was about to open his mouth, but I beat him to it, "What's my favorite color?" I questions earning a weird look.
Even though most of me wanted nothing to do with commitment and trust, a small part of me sought the approval of both Rossi and Hotch.
I guess in the deep corner of my mind I hope that maybe, just maybe they'll make it through my walls.
Opening his mouth for a second, Rossi shakes his head, "Uh, you enjoy baby blue but your favorite color is army green," he states, giving me a small smile.
Turning back around to look at the ceiling I smile a bit, some part of me happy that he knew that small piece of information.
Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I sigh, "I'm scared, Dave." I comment quietly, half of me hoping he heard me and the other half hoping the opposite.
