soft Hotch imagines

M.I.A

Aaron placed the conference room of a police station, doing his best to work things out in his head despite his panicking. You had been checking out the unsubs last known address. He clearly still lived there, but it was obvious that he wasn't doing it legally. Derek had kicked down the front door after seeing the eviction notice, his gun drawn, while you had made your way around the side of the house. You had barely made it to the backyard when everything had gone black. Now, you were missing, Aaron wasn't speaking, and Derek blamed no one but himself.

You woke with a pounding headache, vision red in one eye, tied down to a chair. You pulled at your restraints on impulse, eyes scattering around the room to take in as much detail as you could. Your breathing stopped when you noticed the shadow in the corner.  

Reid was staring at the board with a quizzical look on his face before an apparent lightbulb went on over his head, Emily catching on immediately. "Reid, what is it?"

"The survivor." 

"Yeah, what about her? We already questioned her, she didn't know anything."

"The survivor is the unsub."

Hotch stopped all movement, his head whipping towards Reid before moving to the board to see what he saw. His heart was pounding as memories of Foyet flashed before his eyes, his mind racing a mile a minute as Reid explained his theory. 

The figure didn't move from the corner, your hands slightly pulling at their restraints, trying to make as little movement as possible. 

"Is he nicer to you?" 

You had barely registered the whisper, a small part of you wondered if you were just hearing things, but the figure spoke again. "Is. He. Nicer?"

Truthfully you didn't know how to answer that. Who was she talking about? "I… I don't-"

"Oh, don't play dumb. I've seen you two together. Leaving his house, in his car, I've even seen you food shopping together."

"With who?"

"Steven! I said don't play dumb!"

The sudden gun against the side of your head made your blood run cold, your eyes drifting shut as she started slinging curses at you, before suddenly everything went black again.

It wasn't even an hour later that you woke again, hearing the sounds of a struggle, and the two gun shots. You stared up at the cieling, listening as best you could. You could've sworn you heard Morgans voice. 

"Hotch." Your throat was dry, your yell not as loud as it was meant to be.

"Hotch! I'm down here!" All movement upstairs stopped, before it sounded like a stampede was heading toward the stairs. You didn't realize there were tears in your eyes until you saw his feet first, then his legs, then him. "Hotch."

Your voice was little more than a croak, and he rushed over to you, instantly getting to work on your restraints, and picking you up to hug you as soon as they were undone. He refused to let you go, even though you swore you were stronger than you seemed, but he won the argument of carrying you up the stairs and outside the house to a waiting ambulance. He held your hand in the ride to the hospital, and even had an argument with the doctors when they refused to let him in the room while you got xrays. 

You had a few cracked ribs, and the bruise on your face, along with a bunch of tiny cuts were all you had left this case with. You suffered worse, and made a joke to derek about being unable to add to your scar collection. Hotch had shook his head, but you could see the small smile that came with it. He knew you could handle a lot worse than being held captive at gun point in an unsubs basement. 

That didn't mean he'd worried any less.

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭! 𝐈 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐤 & 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 '𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞.